Written by Rob Weiner.
G.O.B.: Anyway, he wants to go to the fair, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. So, I need you to do it. Just tell him that I’m out of town on one of my trips.
Michael: I’m not gonna lie to your son.
G.O.B.: Come on. I lie to yours all the time. Michael, I’m not ready to be a dad. Plus, I’m gonna be very busy this week being a judge for the pageant.
Narrator: G.O.B. had been a pageant judge for years.
G.O.B.: You can’t believe what it does for your sex life.
Michael: I don’t want to hear it.
G.O.B.: I don’t want to say it. First place chick is hot, but has an attitude, doesn’t date magicians. Second place is someone weird usually, like a Chinese girl or a geologist. But third place, although a little bit plain, has super low self-esteem. So I step in and, uh, lay her crown upon my sweet head.
Michael: Have I missed this euphemism?
Steve Holt: Steve Holt!
G.O.B.: I should go.
Steve Holt: He’s hiding from me, isn’t he?
Michael: You know, uh, you got to stop saying your name all the time.
Steve Holt: It’s just, they have this father-son triathlon and... I just wanted him to do it with me. Stupid, huh?
Michael: Oh, that’s a pretty tough race.
Steve Holt: Only for a wimp, a wuss, a bleep.
Narrator: And Steve didn’t mean pussycat.
Michael: Uh, Steve... how’d you like to do that triathlon with me?
Steve Holt: Are you serious?
Michael: Yeah.
Steve Holt: Uncle Mike!
Michael: Steve Holt!
Narrator: Both men felt good about themselves.
Michael: Uncle Mike!
Steve Holt: Steve Holt!
Narrator: But G.O.B. didn’t share their enthusiasm.
G.O.B.: So this is how Michael gets rid of my son? By stealing him? Well, I’ll just have to steal something of his. Like, say, his bicycle. (Menacingly.) As a... placeholder.
Narrator: Michael was trying to prove his manliness with Steve Holt.
Michael: Rita. Hey, it’s Michael. Just want to let you know that I’m running the triathlon at the fair, and if you’re back in t... Oh, I can’t believe I chose this moment to call you.
Narrator: Meanwhile, at the Church and State Fair, Maeby was trying to enroll in the pageant. Sort of.
Fran: Your situation poses a problem. Let me talk to our chairman.
George Michael: Hey, what are you doing, Maeby?
Maeby: It’s Surely. I’m just here to prove that all these pageants care about is looks. Just watch, Surely’s inner beauty will get trumped by her outer icky.
George Michael: What happened to your nose?
Maeby: It’s part of the disguise. Isn’t it cool? The same one Nicole Kidman wore in The Hours.
Narrator: It had been purchased for her at a charity auction she’d attended as a studio executive...
Jamie Kennedy: $10,000.
Narrator: ... by Jamie Kennedy.
Maeby: Oh, you’re such a dear. But I’m not putting you in my remake of A Thoroughly Polite Dustup.
Fran: Miss Woolfbeak, although it costs quite a bit to put in a ramp for you, we got approval. You’re in.
Narrator: As Maeby found herself stuck in a beauty pageant, Lucille was meeting with attorney Bob Loblaw about getting her son out of the Army.
Lucille: My God, he’s already lost a hand. If he loses a leg, how will we ever get him out of the apartment?
Bob Loblaw: Well, the Army does have a one-in-one-out program, where the inductee is relieved of duty once he enlists someone to take his place.