Written by Rob Weiner.
Michael: Still doing that, huh?
Michael: Well, I do think we should go for a run, huh? Some real guy stuff.
George Michael: I’m supposed to go fabric shopping with Ann today.
Michael: I think we can go butcher.
George Michael: Uh, uh, no. We’re making a gown. She’s gonna be in a beauty pageant.
Michael: Yeah, who’s Ann?
George Michael: My-My girlfriend. She’s... You’ve met her so many times— met her and met her...
Michael: No. I know who Annabelle is. Who’s the Ann that’s in the beauty pageant?
George Michael: That’s her. Her name isn’t Annabelle, that’s Ann.
Michael: No, I know her name’s not Annabelle. That’s how I remember her name, ’cause her body’s kind of shaped like a... She’s the belle of the ball.
Michael: What is she doing in the beauty pageant? She’s... she running the lights or something?
George Michael: She’s in it. She’s a contestant. It’s sort of like an inner beauty pageant.
Michael: Ah! There it is. Is it like a Christian thing?
George Michael: Well, it’s half. It’s at the State Fair, which this year is gonna be a Church and State Fair.
Narrator: It seems the state had run out of money and was going to cancel the fair.
Maeby: I got some news for you. There’s no such thing as an inner beauty pageant. They’re just gonna pick the chick with the best T and A.
Narrator: As a child, Maeby had been entered into a number of progressive pageants that claimed to celebrate beauty in all its forms. But the winners still tended to have it “going on” in the conventional sense.
Lindsay: Remember how badly you used to want to win?
Maeby: No, I remember how badly you used to want me to win.
Lindsay: Yeah, we should have.
Tobias: That’s been happening a lot lately.
Lindsay: You know what? This is the perfect thing to do.
Maeby: No, Mom, I’m not gonna do it.
Michael: Tobias. Want to clean up that... mirror? And the vase?
Tobias: Perhaps if I can coach a certain young lady to victory in this pageant I can gain back the respect of my wife. I’ll show them a little T and A.
Maeby: You can’t make me do it, Dad.
Tobias: Tobias and Ann.
George Michael: My Ann? No, I don’t think we need any help.
G.O.B.: Michael.
Michael: G.O.B.?
G.O.B.: Oh, let me get that for you. Um, so...
G.O.B.: A young neighborhood tough by the name of Steve Holt’s gonna be here any minute.
Michael: Your son.
G.O.B.: According to him.
Michael: And a DNA test.
G.O.B.: I heard the jury’s still out on science.