S.O.B.s
Written by Jim Vallely and Richard Day.
George Michael: He pretends he’s the great father all of a sudden and acts like he’s all worried about me, but it turns out he just does it so I can help him with his joke of a career. No wonder Mom wanted out so bad.
Michael: Oh, my God
Donnie: Oh, my God.
George Michael: Oh, my God.
Narrator: G.O.B., meanwhile, was several days into being an accidental waiter. And he discovered that little flirting helped bring in the tips.
G.O.B.: If you didn’t have adult onset diabetes, I wouldn’t mind giving you a little suger.
Mrs. Van Skoyk: Oh, G.O.B... you could charm the black off a telegram boy.
Narrator: Okay, we’ll just tell you now. She’s the one who dies.
Lucille: His name is Andy something. I think he’s Ed McMahon’s kid, a song and dance man.
Woman at Country Club: I hope that isn’t the sort of humor Andy McMahon will be doing.
G.O.B.: Lobster, ma’am?
Narrator: And Michael went to confront Donnie.
Michael: Hey, nice haircut. And thanks for turning my son against me.
Andy Richter: Oh, oh, no, no, I’m Andy.
Michael: Oh. Sorry. Oh, hey. How’d you feel about coming to a fundraiser at our house?
Andy Richter: How much does it pay?
Michael: It’s just a free dinner...
Andy Richter: I’ll be there.
Michael: Great.
Andy Richter: I’ll be in the cafeteria.
Donnie: Ugh, he’s such a pig.
Michael: You should know about bad mouthing family members. I heard what you had my son say out there.
Donnie: He chose what to say. Maybe we should include him in this.
Michael: No need. You’re the one that poisoned him against me How would you like that done to you?
Donnie: Are you threatening to poison me?
Michael: I’m just expressing myself, man.
George, Sr.: What did I tell you? How dare that Donnie Richter. You know, you got to take care of that guy or I will. Yeah, yeah, let me.
Michael: This is not your business, no. I’m just going to pull him out of that school.
George, Sr.: You’re damn right you are. We can’t have this happen, not now. This family has go to stick together.
Lucille: I don’t want G.O.B. coming to this dinner.
George, Sr.: Good idea.
Lucille: Guess where he’s been getting his money.
George, Sr.: Is he following people to their cars again?
Lucille: He’s a waiter!
Michael: He is? Well, that’s great.
Lucille: No, it’s not great.
Michael: Well, am I the only one that thinks that this family is finally starting to become sympathetic and relatable? I mean, that’s what people want to see.
Michael: Lindsay’s taking care of the house.
Lucille: Oh, I forgot about that. Tell the “housewife” she’s not coming either.
