All language subtitles for american.dad.s01 (2)

The Channel 3 Noon Report, with anchor
partners Greg Corbin and Terry Bates.

News that's independent,
proud and unashamed.

- Good news today, Greg.
- Sure is.

The threat level has been lowered,
prompting reductions in security.

The threat level is now blue,

- same as my handsome coanchor's eyes.
- Stop.

- Come on, now. Learn to take a compliment.
- Thank you.

Now, how hard is that?
Let's check the freeways.

Hey, they just lowered the terror level.

- Sweet. Wanna play backgammon?
- Do I.

Well done.
Our country is a full colour-value safer.

Hey. The boss just said
we could take a half-day.

All right. I got stuff to do.

- Wanna ride the escalators at the mall?
- Do I.

- Take something out or close the refrigerator.
- Nothing looks good to me.

You know what looks good?
Francine bent over that sink.

Klaus, calm down. Well, you're home early.

That's my reward
for making the world a safer place.

That and this magnificent paycheck.

- That's my Stan the Man.
- Here's your allowance, champ.

- Wow. A whole five bucks.
- Yeah, I need change.

- I can't buy a GameStation with this.
- You know, when I was a boy, $5...

I'll give you $10 not to tell me this story.

- What's this? Smells like crap.
- It should be empty. I had my soup for lunch.

Honey, why is there a biohazard symbol
on your Thermos?

Lemme see that.

This is not soup.

Langley Falls, where the Smith family is
quarantined in their Georgian colonial home.

Actually, it's a Cape Cod.
The shutters are a dead giveaway.

Thanks for correcting me, that's how I learn.

They've been exposed to a biological agent
which will liquefy their internal organs.

We have an image
of what that might look like,

- but it's not for the squeamish.
- I'm not gonna look.

This is a nightmare.

Don't worry,
the media sensationalises everything.

- Friend, what's the real deal?
- You're not going to die...

- See there?
- What a relief.

...for 24 hours.

Just enough time for you to learn not
to interrupt someone when they're talking.

We'll find a place for that homeless shelter.

Thanks for all your hard work, Hayley.
And thanks for walking me home.

My God.

They let me come say goodbye.

- I'm gonna miss you guys.
- How come she gets to live?

I was helping the homeless
while you were being a loser.

Yeah? Who's the loser now, loser?

- Mom, Steve just infected me.
- Nobody likes a snitch.

I don't believe this. We're all gonna die.

Yeah, tough break.
Can you hold this for me?

- What are you doing?
- Measuring for drapes.

Soon as you're dead,
I'm gonna redo this place.

I'm thinking something vibrant,
like a sea foam green.

Cos I'm gonna need a lot of happy
to get over all this sad.

- Dimmer switches everywhere.
- What makes you think you'll survive?

- I'm immune to all human ailments.
- So explain that cold sore.

- Mind your own business.
- Stop bickering. Time is precious.

We have to make the most
of our last 24 hours together.

She's right.
We should sit together as a family.

And watch
the entire first season of 24 on DVD.

That was bold television.
We still have a minute to spare.

- I can't believe I'll die a virgin.
- Sweetie.

There was a 70-80% chance
of that happening anyway.

- Daddy.
- No tears, dammit. A Smith dies with dignity.

Kids, I've been tough on you,
but only because I love you so very, very...

Right. I should probably wait.

This is it.

Look.

- I was just snoozing.
- You're alive. We all are.

That clock's always fast.
Let's give it a few more minutes.

Good news. That batch of virus was inert.

- So that means...
- We're gonna be OK.

Yes. Although apparently
your manners died years ago.

You're welcome.

- What's wrong, honey? We're alive.
- I know, and that's good.

But, well, when I thought
we were gonna die,

it made me realise
how little I've done with my life.

And now I guess I'm feeling unfulfilled.

I've given you everything
you could ever want.

You clean, you cook, and once a week
we lie together as husband and wife.

- What's going on?
- Hi, Barb Hanson, Exposition Realty.

Your virus scare prompted these folks
to put their house on the market.

- Any questions?
- No, that was very concise.

Call if you ever need a real estate agent.
I'm also a hand model.

Sweet Sean Hannity. Your hands are lovely.

- Come on, Francine.
- Boy. She seems so confident.

The way she wears that smart blazer with her
company's logo. Her life must be so exciting.

- You could do what she does.
- You think?

Absolutely. We will absolutely get you
a real estate costume. You'll look adorable.

And I'll dress up as a sea captain.

- I mean a real job.
- It'll be great.

I'll be Admiral Finch and you'll be
Lady Constantina, my real estate agent.

We'll promenade around,
delighting young and old with our banter.

I can't be a real estate agentjust because
you say so. It takes years to get a licence.

You leave that to me, milady.

- Barb Hanson?
- Yes.

Go.

Wait. Go.

- What's going on?
- Congratulations, you're in real estate.

- This is Barb's stuff. What happened to her?
- She'll be fine.

Hi, Barb Hanson, Exposition Realty.

Mind if I borrow one of your napkins?
Thanks.

- You let your wife get ajob?
- No, it's more like a hobby.

Something to keep her busy
until Stan the Man gets home.

- I worked in real estate.
- What are you, gay?

I was. Once I stopped selling houses,
my sodomy cleared up like that.

You know what's wrong about gayness?
With two men, who has the vagina?

- No kidding. You need a vagina.
- Yeah, vaginas are great. Wish I had one.

I did it, I sold my first house.

Who's my big girl? And such a nice family.

They're just the movers.
The new owners are Greg and Terry.

We don't want their kind
in this neighbourhood.

- You're overreacting.
- Overreacting? Overreacting?

Do you know what those two are?

Reporters. That's right, Francine,
members of the liberal media.

Stan, not all journalists are bad.
You like Brit Hume, don't you?

You know damn well I like Brit Hume.

- Just give Greg and Terry a chance.
- All right, but if I... What the hell?

Dimmer switch.

I'm sorry. Too fabulous? I hate this place.

I haven't even told you the best part.
Look at my commission cheque.

Incredible. That is more
than Stan the Man makes in a month.

And that's just for one house.

You have been emasculated by the superior
earning power of your little Hausfrau.

God. Stud. Stud. Hit the stud.

- Well, you're in a pickle here.
- I agree. In a relationship, money is power.

This is just a bump in the road.
Francine's like a puppy.

She's having fun chewing her new bone,
selling a few houses,

but she'll get bored and go back to ironing
and scooting her ass on the carpet.

- Open your eyes. Your manhood is at stake.
- That's crazy.

Is it? When my wife started working,
I didn't think twice.

But she kept earning more and more money
and then one day, bam!

And I didn't even get to say goodbye.

Your manhood is at stake.
Your manhood is at stake. Your...

We're not gonna car pool any more.

Here's to Mom. She's finally cast off
the shackles of domestic servitude

and realised her potential
as an independent woman.

How would you like a punch in the face?

I have a little surprise.
I bought you all presents.

- A donation for my shelter.
- 50 bucks towards my GameStation.

A tie? When do I ever wear a tie?

- Thank you very much.
- You paid? You were going to the bathroom.

- I did both.
- You can just do it all, can't you?

Yeah, and we still need 100 bucks
for that GameStation.

Don't worry, I have a plan.
Toshi, you have a video camera, right?

Wow, that's a lot of words for "Of course".

I get it. We can sell Toshi's camera
and get the money.

Why do you always make everything so
complicated? The plan is quite simple really.

Toshi will borrow a camcorder
from his parents.

Meanwhile, Snot and I
will find some lovely ladies

willing to "go wild"
in exchange for a little financial aid.

We'll have ourselves a little photo shoot.

After that, we make thousands of duplicates,
market the tapes on late-night cable TV.

And then we retire and live out our days
playing video games.

I wasn't sure about you fellas, but sometimes
you just wanna be around other men.

- It's nice to meet you too.
- Yeah. Thanks for dropping in.

I envy you guys. Just a couple
of unmarried studs enjoying life to the max.

- Actually, Greg was married once.
- I was confused. Is that why you're here?

It's strained between me and the missus.

The balance of power in our relationship
has shifted and I don't like it.

A healthy relationship is a partnership.

Well, it's never equal.
Someone always ends up on top.

- Yeah, but sometimes it's OK to switch.
- Really?

- Down the line.
- I think I hear what you guys are saying.

I'm the man and I have to reclaim the power
in my marriage. Hey, thanks, fellas.

- Take a picture, why don't you?
- I'm being polite. It'd be rude not to look.

Forgive me, Francine.
I'm only doing this to save our marriage.

What am I thinking?
This is the woman I love.

That's better.

Dammit, I'm such a softie. There's gotta
be a better way to put her out of business.

- Excuse me. Are you Francine's boss?
- Yes.

- Go, go, go. You're all under arrest.
- For what?

- Cocaine doughnuts.
- Those are powdered sugar.

Put it in a rap song, jailbird.

- This office is closed.
- What are you saying?

I'm saying you're fired.

For God's sake. Somebody pay Mr Trump.

Sure we can use this house for our shoot?

I heard Mom say it's been on the market
so long, it's been forgotten.

Eavesdropper.
You should respect her privacy.

- We don't expose our breasts without beer.
- Got ya covered.

What?

We are going neither wild nor totally wild
at a shelter.

But we are taking your beer.

You ruined everything.
What are you doing here?

I'm giving these poor, forgotten people
a new lease on life.

I think Phil is dead.

- Now we'll never get a GameStation.
- Au contraire, my dear Snot.

Hey, honey, I just heard the news.

Too bad about your office. Looks like
I'm making more money than you again.

I'd advise you to write an offer soon.
Mortgage rates won't stay this low forever.

- That's real-estate chatter.
- She's closing a duplex at 4% over list.

Francine, what the hell is going on?
You were fired.

That's passive past tense, Trump.
You don't own that.

Stan, I'm on the phone. Sorry, Randy. I'm
working out of my home office these days.

- Here you go, boss.
- "Boss"?

I'm Ms Smith's assistant.
Can I get you something while you wait?

- A bottled water.
- It's not cold. Is that all right?

Forget it.

- Fran Smith and Associate.
- Hold her calls.

- Francine, stop this nonsense.
- Nonsense? This job is my career.

My job is a career.
This is just some silly housewife's hobby.

Yeah? Well this silly housewife
loves her hobby.

She's good at it. In fact, she kicks ass.

- So her husband will just have to deal with it.
- I could've assassinated you.

- What?
- Nothing.

- It was my house first.
- You can't stand in the way of progress.

Hey. What's going on?

Steve's making the homeless men
beat each other senseless.

It's called bum fights.
I'll make a fortune on tickets.

It's exploitation. You're making money
off their pain and misery.

All right, I'll handle this.
Let me get this straight, son.

You're pitting desperate, downtrodden men
against one another for profit?

- Yes, sir.
- I'm in.

- What the hell is going on here?
- Ask Dad.

He stole my bum fights idea.
He won't even give me a piece of the action.

I want this to be a class act.
I introduce you both.

I throw raw meat on the floor. Whoever
beats the crap out of the other gets to eat.

You were supposed to shut this down.
You're degrading these men.

I'm giving them jobs and self-esteem.
I'm giving them costumes and a back story.

This is the Garbage Collector.
He's got his own catchphrase:

"I'm taking out the trash and sorting it."

And this guy, he grew up in the bayou, living
with alligators, wrestling with alligators.

I call him the Aviator.

Fight night's already sold out.
I set up a ring, fans can make bets.

I even put out some nice mixed nuts.

No. Those are for people.

I can't believe you muscled out
your own son. You stink, Dad.

What's more important - your hopes
and dreams, or me making more than Mom?

- This is pure exploitation. I'm telling Mom.
- Go ahead.

Your pals will be back on the street,
where nights are cold and fights meatless.

This isn't over.

Yeah. It's been that kind of week, girlfriend.
But, hey, TGI hump day.

- Roger, who are you talking to?
- Tammy at Mencer Escrow, my phone buddy.

Did you copy those title reports?

Tams, I gotta go. Yeah, the boss
is being a real Catch U Next Tuesday.

Stan the Man is back. Here. Just my little way
of saying you can keep your little job.

- A diamond ring?
- I also got you a mink stole.

My God. But, Stan, can we afford this?

- Well, you can't, but I can.
- But how did you get...

Smile for LeRoy Neiman.
He's painting us right now.

- That's LeRoy Neiman?
- I thought he was black too.

I've got to hand it to you, Dad.
You really pulled it off.

Or did you?

- You unionised the homeless?
- Yup. This is the fighting bums local 302.

Yeah.

- Here are our demands.
- "Longer red lights at freeway off-ramps,

free doggy daycare, human dignity."
I can't meet these demands.

Then start refunding money,
cos there won't be any fights tonight.

- No. You can't take my money.
- Don't sweat it.

I found a bum willing to scab. All you
gotta do is dress up like a bum and fight him.

You're a life-saver. All right, where's the bum
stupid enough to step into a ring with me?

- Who the hell is that?
- He doesn't have a name.

- What do you mean?
- He killed his own name.

My God. You couldn't get me the Aviator
or the Tickler or Pillow-Hands McGraw?

No way, not me. I ain't no scab.

Dad, this is suicide. You're a weapons expert.
When did you last fight hand-to-hand?

You never forget how to fight -
it's like beating up a bicycle.

Don't let it eat my heart.

This is a wonderful starter home.

- I've been saving it for a couple just like you.
- Soon we'll be more than a couple.

Congratulations. I just thought you were fat.

We're adopting.

Let me show you the back yard.
It's the perfect place for a baby to play.

My God.

Stop it. Stan, what are you doing?
Leave my husband alone.

Look. That bum's wife
has to jump in and save him.

What a wuss.

It's a knockout. My dad wins.

I lost a pile of dough
on that one-thumbed psycho.

Me too. Let's exit quickly.

- I did it. I'm Stan the Man.
- Not really.

We paid this guy to take a dive
then bet everything on you.

So this whole thing was a setup?

More of a performance piece.
Hi. Ted Fiedler, method actor.

I'm also a hand model.

No!

- Stan, why did you do this?
- Money.

You make more of it than me.
I'm a failure as a man.

- You dope. Don't you get it? We're a team.
- I know, and you're the owner. I get it.

No, Stan, we're equals.
We share everything, good and bad.

You don't have to feel threatened by my job.

- So, you mean when you succeed, I succeed?
- Exactly.

I was gonna hitch a ride home,
but I bit my thumb off.

- So use your other one.
- Right.

Thanks. Hey, teach a man to fish, huh?

I made you fresh coffee.

Have a good day at work, partner.

Interest rates went up by 20 points,
sending mortgage rates soaring.

- Smart play locking in on that low fixed rate.
- Thank you.

Finally learning his own self-worth.

This hike by federal reserve chairman
Alan Greenspan

has jeopardised the economy and put every
real estate agent in the country out of work.

That's a shame. I'm sorry, hon.

Can I keep this mouse pad?
I'm keeping this mouse pad.

At least I had fun. And you learned there's
no need to be threatened by my success.

Absolutely. Go, Team Smith.

It's Stan. Release Greenspan's schnauzer.

Fanny May.

- That's all for this morning. See you at noon.
- And I'll see you tonight.

- Greg.
- Relax. Everybody knows.