All language subtitles for American.Dad.S19E22.The.Grounch.1080p.DSNP.WEBRip.DDP.5.1.H.265.-EDGE2020-ing

You guys were right.
I read the ad wrong.

It wasn't for a candy-striper.
It was for a candy-stripper.

What is that, a joke?

Check it out.
Snot forgot his vest.

I guess we all know
what that means, right?

Uh, that's a no.

Snot secretly takes off his vest
when he dumps out.

Oh, no. He hides that?

Be proud, guy. It's cool to poo.

What's this?

Hey, this is about us.
It's a list of the family.

We're ranked.

Ranked?

On what, may I ask, did Snot rank us?

Hotness.

Oh, my God.

I'm not last. I'm not last!

I forgot my vest.

Sit the hell down, Snot.

'Tis the season for questions.

Gulp.

Good morning, USA.

What is this, Snot?

First off, isn't some weird ranking
of who I am personally attracted to.

It's just a super normal,
kind of hard to even be mad about, list

of the objective hotness
of my best friend's family.

Just to be clear, I'm ranked number one.

- Does that mean...
- You're the hottest in the family.

Your Honor, I have
no more questions for him,

except to ask if he wants
to stay for dinner.

I see.
I see, I'm seven on here.

I'm just not sure I understand
the numbering system.

Please allow me
to explain my conclusions.

Mr. Smith is ranked first
for his natural "talent."

The man has the perfect body.

Huge menacing torso, and legs
that are mostly an afterthought.

But the showstopper is a chin

that makes you realize
that nothing is impossible.

Hayley is ranked second.

She oozes potential.

A deep beauty lies within,
but it's mostly hidden

because she transcends fashion

and dresses in absolute defiance of it.

Steve came in a strong third.

His silky hair and soft hands are great,

but it's that fat ass
that put him over the top.

Francine, I worry about your drinking.

And even though
it hasn't affected your looks yet,

it's just so... tragically sad.

Klaus is a gorgeous shade of orange.

Gazing upon him
is like watching a tropical sunset.

Jeff's feet are the perfect size
for his body.

And that concludes my list.

What about me?

You've explained everyone's rankings
but not mine.

I just don't think it's fair to say
if it's something you can't change.

Announcement.
I'm skipping work for the month

and this time not just to play
Animal Crossing.

I'm going to finally start my magazine.

Stan Magazine is happening?

Yup. For the first time ever,
there will be a magazine for men.

Is this all because my friend
thought you were attractive?

He's my friend, too, Steve.

Dad, there are already tons
of men's magazines out there.

Stan Magazine will be different.

Stan Magazine will have
reviews of wristwatches

and a sex advice column from, get this,

a woman wearing glasses.

So there is irony at play
in this magazine.

Sorry I'm late for my breakfast.
I didn't get much sleep last night,

- and I'm not feeling too hot.
- I bet you aren't.

I'm going to the zoo.

Dude, one of the gross hippos escaped.

Oh, no, has a hippo gotten out?

Oh, no, they're talking about me.

That's no hippo.

It's a disgusting squid trying to sneak
out of the zoo in people clothes.

My confidence is so low
I don't even look human anymore.

The zoo got a monster.

Well, I've been to every bank
in the Tri-City metro area

and no one has the balls
to loan me money for my magazine.

Goddamn banks.
All they care about is money.

How are you doing, Barry?
I'm so sorry for your loss.

I really miss Nana.

Now all I have to remember her by
is the large inheritance she left me.

Barry, my good man, have a seat.

Francine, we have a guest.
Bring this lard ass some ribs.

I don't know if you've heard,

but I've got a lot of heat
on me right now.

Oh. I heard about Snot's
rankings. Congratulations.

I have
an investment opportunity for you.

Stan Magazine, a magazine for men.

It's luxury but also rugged.

It's political,
I but only for office politics.

- Dad, can you please not...
- Francine, silence the boy!

Do you know anything
about launching a magazine?

That's a great question.
I've got some better ones.

What's Jeremy Renner's
favorite cigar shop?

Where does Gerard Butler
like to scuba dive?

Those are the big questions
Stan Magazine will attempt to answer.

- I'll give you $600.
- Great.

Barry, I'm so sorry
about your grandmother.

That she won't be here to see you
become a magazine millionaire.

Who cares what Snot, the family,
a couple of zoo workers

and an entire Starbucks think of you?

The barista asked me to leave the store,

and then I could hear
everyone cheer when I left.

Klaus, this is the least
confident and sexy I've ever felt.

Oh, no. It's the Wednesday
before Christmas, isn't it?

Tonight's my legendary
Christmas sex party.

Sex! Sex! Sex!

What a disaster.

With your confidence so low and
my bang-tivity scene not finished yet,

I still have to glue on
Joseph's mammoth hog

and arrange
the Three Wise Men's circle jerk.

Upstairs.

So, Rog, when are you gonna
get in on the action?

Not sure. I got my hands full
with these refreshments,

and after that I feel like it's time
I build that Lego Death Star

I got six years ago.

Roger, you're being silly.
You're sexy as hell.

This is your party. Get in there, Santa.

Do I look good?

You are giving me
a full-on Yule log, bro.

Coming through. Excuse me.
Hey, how's it going over there?

There's a hippo in here!

It's clearly
a squid.

Okay. That hurts.

Hey-o, how's the futon crew doing?

- Room for a fifth?
- No!

Oh, God. Whatever you're doing,
can you not do it near me?

Sorry, sorry.

Everyone is just so
obsessed with sex at this orgy.

Whatever happened to
a little something called conversation?

Huh? Sorry, I wasn't listening.

Tuttle is really getting into
the Christmas spirit.

Giving and receiving.

I thought we could take a break
from all that humping

to share a nice Christmas goose.

Do we have to?

Yes. We're going to eat, chat, and enjoy
each other's sexiest body part.

- You mean the ball sack?
- The taint?

- Is he talking about the anus?
- The brain!

Have you read Dune?
I keep trying to get into it,

but I don't know,
maybe I'm just not a Dune guy.

Hey! I run the clapper around here.

Okay. Very funny everybody.
Where did the goose go?

I'm gonna turn off the light again,
and whoever took the goose,

just put it back. No questions asked.

Thank you.

Oh, no, did someone this goose?

Who this goose?

S'up, homies?

Dad, what are you doing here?
And what happened to your face?

You think it's easy to stay on top
of Snot's rankings?

I had all the fat from my feet
and calves put into my cheeks and lips.

Hi, Snot. Always good to see you.

Now, Barry, I wanted to chat
about continuing your investment

in Stan Magazine.

Don't forget your grandmother's
dying words. "Support print journalism."

Her dying words were, "Find my killer."

Look, I'm sorry, Mr. Smith,

but this all seems
like a giant vanity project.

You think I'm gonna take artistic advice
from my money guy? No way!

You suits are all the same.

You're the one wearing a suit.
I'm not giving you any more money.

Very well, you are dead to me.

I'm gonna go finish my lunch
with the sexy religious students.

You know, I always thought that cleaning
up after an orgy would be gross,

and I was right.

Klaus, I can't live like this anymore.

Sex makes everything so much worse,

so I've decided
to swear off sex from now on.

I'm giving it up forever.

I'm with you. I'm sick of sex, too.

I don't wanna get railed, nailed,
Eiffel-towered, pretzel-dipped,

corkscrewed, flat-ironed,

wheel-barrowed or sporked ever again.

I'm done, done, done with sex.

- Sporked?
- Sex, who needs it?

Not me. My old downstairs
is basically destroyed anyways.

I like your vibe, strange woman.

Roger, professional uncle, hater of sex.

Elizabeth.

You know, if we're both really serious
about not having sex,

there's something we can do.

- We got married!
- We got married!

Pum, pum, pum!

- Good morning.
- Good morning to you, sir.

- Companionship.
- Companionship.

Companionship.

Don't forget I'm part of this, too.

It's so nice not worrying
about sex anymore.

I can focus on
the important things in life,

like this flavorless oatmeal.

And I can wear my night guard
all day long.

This homemade apple cider vinegar
is so much more sour than store-bought.

The birds are quite promiscuous
up here in the mountains.

Woodworking. A true lasting pleasure.

I could do this all night.

But it's been a long day.
I think it's time to hit the hay.

Honey, it's 7:15 in the morning.

Shh! He's coming.

Why is Dad dressed like a villainous
emperor from a sci-fi movie?

Thank you, Xerxes.

The venom of this little snake
reactivates my calf fat.

It's what we in the magazine business
call a "compound plumpening".

I have great news.
After a brief bankruptcy,

Stan Magazine will
continue to move forward

thanks to our angel investor, Toshi.

- Don't you have friends of your own?
- Not really, no.

Okay. Let's get an update
from my writers.

Chuck Klosterman, how's that hit piece
on that cheap-ass loser, Barry?

It's a brutal Takedown as requested.

All right. That's enough, chatterbox.
I pay you to type, not to talk.

Stan, how many more tequilas
do you want me to taste test?

Um, I asked you to write about lacrosse.

Finally, Malcolm Glad well,
how are those wristwatch reviews coming?

Stan, I tried to explain,

my writings deal with the unexpected
implications of human behavior

in the social sciences.

Well, now you review wristwatches.

And remember, it's a men's magazine,
so the highest rating is five boners.

You heard the snake. Back to work.

Companionship!

Companionship.

This is the life.

As little sex and as much
apple cider vinegar as we want.

I was kind of hoping that would kill me.

Mmm. Burnt-ass bread. Who needs sex?

Not me and my burnt-ass bread.
We're doing great.

Hi, Time Warner?
Yes, I'd like to lodge a complaint.

Dr. Phil is wearing a tan suit today,
and he looks like a giant fat penis.

There. Done.

We've been here for a while.

I learned to play the piano.

What is that awful noise?
I don't like it.

Elizabeth, can you hear this?

"Uncle Tuttle's Ballsackular
Bang Bash"?

Elizabeth, my Christmas sex party has
been stolen by that pervert Al Tuttle.

Elizabeth, the party seems
bigger than ever.

There's a line around the block
to get in.

Oh, man, Elizabeth,
you're not gonna believe this,

but there's a woman there
that's biting your humdrum style.

What a joke.
She can't pull it off at all.

She even has your same back tattoo
that means "betrayal" in Chinese.

Elizabeth, you gotta see this!
Elizabeth?

Wait a minute.

I've been whatever is
Chinese for betrayed.

What is all the commotion?

Roger,
what is happening to you?

I don't know. I think this
is what happens

when my species had been betrayed.

Or maybe this is what happens
to my species

if they go a year without sex.

- How do you not know?
- I flunked out of school, Klaus.

Whoa, Roger.

I am not Roger anymore.
Call me the Grounch.

The Grounch who stole Sex-mas.

Gonna have sex
gonna have sex, gonna have sex today.

Oh, what fun it is to ride
on a random stranger's face.

Yay!

Now that the Grounch
had been betrayed,

he couldn't stand anyone getting laid.

And every party goer liked sex a lot.

But the Grounch, he did not.

The Grounch hates sex
and the people who have it one and all.

Most think because his boner
was two sizes too small.

The Grounch couldn't stand
to see all these people,

every one of them so horny.

He said to the heavens...

I must find a way to stop this orgy.

Right in that moment,
the Grounch got an idea.

A ghastly gruesome Grounchy idea.

I know exactly what
all these pervs need to get off.

Tonight I will steal
all their sexy things.

The spankaroos, the bungle fondlers
and the strap-on dil-dolls.

I will ruin their big party
and give everyone blue balls.

His mission clear,
the Grounch yelled down the hill.

If I can't have sex, then no one will!

You're a green one, Monsieur Grounch.

You have no sex appeal.

You look like a furry booger.

You're charming as a dead seal
Monsieur Grounch.

You smell like 3-day old gym shorts.

Worn by an incontinent Shaquille O'Neal.

You're an original character
Monsieur Grounch.

That's an undeniable fact.

But if this does remind you
of some other creature.

Don't overreact.

The Supreme Court ruled
that a parody may claim.

Fair use under Section 107.

Of the Copyright Act

1 Where's my Peepee Pump-o Max?

And I'm looking
for my hoohoo wax.

I can't possibly get down
without my rootie-too tie-bootie snacks.

Hey where's my dingle dongle?

And I can't have sex
without my vibro-schlongle.

Has anyone seen my anal tongle?

You're a piece of shit
Monsieur Grounch.

You stink like a Muppet's fart.

You're a real bad apple.

You're worse than Paul Blart
The mall cop.

You're the worst thing to happen
to the local community.

Since Walmart.

Tuck in that shirt.
This isn't fajita night at Applebee's.

This is fajita night catered
by Applebee's

for Stan Magazine's launch party.

All right. It's 8:00.

Time to open the doors
and let the riff-raff in.

Where's my riff-raff?

Dad, I tried to tell you
that no one had RSVP'd.

But you just kept accusing me
of not considering fashion an art form.

Fashion is an art form, Hayley.

Wait, no one's coming?

Put that back on the pedestal.

What's with the Pikachus on every page?

What, you think it's too much
like all the other men's magazines?

I'm sorry I'm not perfect
like you, Steve.

No!

Why must the beautiful suffer so?

The Grounch was happy,
his mission complete.

Till he heard the sound
of sucking on feet.

I don't understand.
How could this be?

They're still having the sex party?

And then he made a realization
that made his face flush.

The spirit of sex is too hard to crush.

The Grounch realized that
a sex party isn't about toys,

lingerie, or lube with spermicide...

It's about feeling sexy inside.

But that's exactly
what the Grounch didn't feel.

I guess before bed, I'll have a sad
bowl of oatmeal.

And that might've been
the end of our pathetic tale

if the Grounch hadn't noticed that
he was standing on a scale.

Holy shit! I've lost two pounds.

It must be all that oatmeal
I've been eating.

Dang, I look skinny as hell.

That was the moment
that everything changed.

Suddenly the Grounch
didn't feel like such a grump.

The Grounch was feeling sexy,
and he wanted to hump.

I want to apologize to all of you.
I'm sorry I tried to ruin your night.

Not good enough. We're mad at you.

You know, you stole
Hideki's heartburn medication.

Not cool.

Well, if words can't convince you,
maybe this will change your mind.

Mmm... Let us talk it over.

We've decided we want
to have sex with you.

Elizabeth... I want you first.

Please come in.

There's snacks in the kitchen,
a shower in the back,

and no finishing on my iguana.

Ah, I guess I screwed off
all my green fur.

Well, I did it, Klaus.
I schtupped the whole town.

Congratulations, Roger.
Glad you got your mojo back.

Yeah, me too. I just don't understand
what lesson I was supposed to learn.

Don't you remember?

Confidence is sexy.

Oh, hi, Jeans.
So this was all about confidence?

Obviously.

Goodbye, Roger.

I must now return to where I live.
Behind the moon.

Merry Christmas...

And happy New Year.