Bush Visits Wetlands
Staircar Snarls Air Traffic
Episode Transcript
Written by Barbie Feldman Adler.
Narrator: Michael, now able to drive to prison, confronted his father about the permits.
Michael: How come you didn’t tell me that you didn’t file them?
George, Sr.: I’m under a lot of pressure here. I’m trying to get my newsletter off the ground. I’m trying to decide which gang to align myself with.
Michael: Is it pledge week already?
George, Sr.: I’ve got it down to two. But honestly, I don’t even want to choose. I just feel... I feel like the prettiest girl at the dance.
George, Sr.: Hey, listen, about that permit thing, that’s an easy fix. Just break into the permit office, slip the application into the next file and then tell them “Hey, you guys screwed up.”
Michael: I’m not doing that, Dad.
George, Sr.: Michael, you lied to your investors. You got to make that right.
George, Sr.: Call G.O.B. He’ll handle it. That’s what he’s for.
Michael: That’s what he’s for?
George, Sr.: You better tell him I’m asking. I don’t thing he’s going to do it for you after you wouldn’t even give him a frozen banana, Michael.
Michael: Is there a chat room that you guys all...?
George, Sr.: Not charitable.
Michael: Never mind. I’ll tell G.O.B. that you want him to do this.
George, Sr.: Okay. I’ve got a dance I got to get ready for.
Michael: Whoa, there’s really a dance?
George, Sr.: I don’t know. Both sides are making a lot of promises.
Sign: “Proprietor not liable for dental damage.”
G.O.B.: You should call this a “G.O.B.,” guy.
Michael: G.O.B., can I talk to you for a sec? Listen, um... I’m really sorry about before. I said some things, and I got a little carried away. It’s not the way you’re supposed to treat a brother. Especially one that I value so highly. Oh, I need a favor.
G.O.B.: (Tooth whistles.) That was subtle.
Michael: Did you just whistle?
G.O.B.: I had to buy a candied apple when you denied me a banana. So, yes, I’m whistling. Satisfied?
Michael: It’s not that noticeable. Listen, Dad would like for you to break into the permit office.
G.O.B.: Dad? Dad said he wanted me for that?
Michael: Yes, he did. Will you do it?
G.O.B.: Maybe. (Whistling.) I have some conditions. Terms.
Michael: Why?
G.O.B.: One condition and one term.
Michael: All right. Let’s have a condition first.
G.O.B.: A free banana whenever I want.
Michael: Single dip.
G.O.B.: Double dip. But I’ll take one stick.
Michael: All right, what else?
G.O.B.: Creative control, spin-off rights and theme park approval for Mr. Banana Grabber, Baby Banana Grabber, and any other Banana Grabber family character that might emanate there from.
Michael: I retain animation rights and we go back to single dip.
G.O.B.: Done.
Michael: Great. What else?
G.O.B.: You humiliated me in front of my nephew. I expect you to fix that. I want the respect of your son.
Michael: You better let me do the talking. George Michael, your uncle has a request.
