Written by Barbie Feldman Adler.
G.O.B.: One Bluth banana, George Michael.
Michael: Go ahead. Give it to him. G.O.B. deserves your respect, and from now on I want you to do whatever he asks you to do, okay? After all, he is your uncle, and, um... I think we ought to just embrace that.
G.O.B.: Thank you.
Michael: So, I held up my end of the deal?
G.O.B.: I can’t believe I gave you animation rights. I hope that doesn’t come back and bite me in the ass.
Narrator: Meanwhile, Lindsay, wanting to prove to Michael that she was a charitable person joined a group of activists dedicated to preserving the wetlands.
Lindsay: Yeah, hi. I’m gonna need a taxi.
Lindsay: I don’t know if that smell is you, the car, something you ate, or something you’re about to eat, but my God, you’re in a service business.
Lindsay: I’m in the wetlands. I’ve got a poker thing, and I’m gonna clean them up. So the next time you want to tell me that I’m uncharitable, why don’t you just ask yourself, who called you from the wetlands?
Michael: Who is this?
Lindsay: Nice try. You’re the selfish one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some nature to save.
Narrator: While Lindsay was finding it difficult to be truly charitable Michael was looking for an opportunity to rise to Lindsay’s challenge, and that’s when he recognized his mother’s fill-in housekeeper at a bus stop.
Michael: Hello there. You’re not riding the bus today. Get in this car. I’m not taking no for an answer. Come on, don’t make me get out of this car and put you in here myself.
Narrator: Unfortunately, the woman he picked up wasn’t Lupe, but was a total stranger. And upon seeing bones, a shovel and what appeared to be blood... she realized he wasn’t who she thought he was.
Helen Maria Delgado: Oh, mister, please, por favor, dejame salir del carro.
Michael: This is going to be tricky. I don’t speak Spanish.
Helen Maria Delgado: Yo es scared-o. Uh-huh.
Michael: Izquierdo. I know that one.
Helen Maria Delgado: Uh-huh.
Michael: Left turn it is, missus. They call me selfish.
Narrator: He thought he was helping his mother’s housekeeper, but he had the wrong woman.
Michael: I mean, I guess it would just be a guy who you know, grabs bananas and runs. Or, um, a banana that grabs things. I don’t know. Why would a banana grab another banana? I mean, those are the kind of questions I don’t want to answer.
Lindsay: Oh, Michael, it really... it’s so beautiful here. You have to come down and see this.
Michael: Yeah, well, I’m a little busy right now. I’ve got someone else in the car with me, and I’m not going anywhere until she’s taken care of.
Lindsay: Look, I screwed up, okay? I’m lost and I hate them. I hate the Wetlands. They’re stupid and wet and there are bugs everywhere and I think I maced a crane, Michael.
Lindsay: Look, you’ve got Dad’s car, why don’t you come pick me up?
Michael: Crazy. Loco. Listen, we got to make a little detour, okay? So I hope no one’s waiting for you.
Narrator: In fact, the woman Michael thought was Lupe did have people waiting for her, and they had reported her missing. The real Lupe, meanwhile, was leaving Lucille’s for the evening.
Lucille 2: Buster... I’m... Oh. Hello. It appears my one-time admirer’s not planning some grand romantic gesture after all. You know what? It’s his loss. It’s his loss. It’s his loss.
Narrator: G.O.B., meanwhile, was casing the permit office, following the first rule of surveillance: Never get noticed.
G.O.B.: (Tooth whistling.) Carrier Express.
Worker #1: Say, you’re not our regular guy.
G.O.B.: (Whistling.) No, I’m the substitute.
Worker #3: Hey, Gary... get a picture of me with the new whistling delivery guy.
Narrator: G.O.B. realized he needed a new plan.
G.O.B.: So, I need you to give your father a message for me.
George Michael: All right, well, you heard my dad. I have to do whatever you ask me to.