All language subtitles for Family.Guy.S22E02.INTERNAL.1080p.WEB.H264-EDITH

♪ It seems today
that all you see ♪

♪ Is violence in movies
and sex on TV ♪

♪ But where are those
good old-fashioned values ♪

♪ On which we used to rely? ♪

♪ Lucky there's a family guy ♪

♪ Lucky there's a man who
positively can do ♪

♪ All the things that make us ♪

♪ Laugh and cry ♪

♪ He's... a...
Fam... ily... Guy! ♪

Boy, everybody's here.

Why do you think
we're gathering?

This isn't about the soiled
pants in the toilet, right?

'Cause I hadn't heard
about that.

Good morning, employees.

As some of you can tell
by my face,

I have some exciting news.

But first, a pair of husky-size
green pants were found

in the men's room,
positively destroyed.

That's what
I hadn't heard about.

Now the exciting news.

The brewery is transitioning
to an open floor plan

and will be called
the Pawtucket Patriot campus.

To help explain the transition
to our futuristic workplace,

I'd like to share a video
from our investor,

the confusingly charismatic
WeWork lunatic.

Hey, I'm the guy from WeWork.

My foremost goal is
to facilitate

an experiential bandwidth
of synergy.

Hammock desks,
scooter desks,

and the world's first desk-desk.

The only desk that
functions as a working desk.

I have been the WeWork lunatic,
please don't google me.

Our new office will also have

a lady chef
who only makes vegan food,

pinball machines,
and nursing pods.

Lastly, as we transition
to our new open floor plan,

the brewery will be closed

for the next two months
for construction.

Yes, Griffin?

Are the nursing pods,
l-like, for anyone?

If I ordered
a whole Cornish game hen,

would anyone have any?

I'm in for a wing.
What's the occasion?

I just found out
the brewery's closing

so they can turn it into
the kind of workplace

you only see on TV shows.

Work's been crazy for me, too.

We have this case--
guy died on his birthday,

and-- get this--
his family had gotten him

an ice cream cake.

You know, the kind
with ice cream inside

as the cake part?

Wild stuff.
So I'm at the scene...

This story is already
too complicated and boring.

Peter, take over.

My Amazon guy
once delivered batteries

-to Pat Sajak.
-No way!

How did he know there were
batteries in the box?

You know,
whenever they ship a battery,

they got to put that little
warning label on the box?

That's how.

It could've just been something
with a battery in it.

No, he said
he shook it real hard.

I-I think
the focus of this story is

more Pat Sajak than
the battery part.

Hold on. There's no way
that story was better than mine.

Hey, Brian. What's all this?

Oh, just following
in the rich tradition

of Hemingway and Faulkner

and putting a little damage
on the old liver.

Another rosé, Brian?

Put a spritz on it.

So, is, uh, watching TikToks
of underage girls

also part of
your writing process?

The best writing happens when
you're not actually writing.

I just wish
my muse would speak to me.

I'm having a tough time finding
an idea for my next novel.

Well, I'd tell you about
one of my murder cases,

but apparently
I'm a bad storyteller.

-Murder case?
-Oh, yeah, we had one last year.

All signs pointed
to the husband.

-What happened?
-It was the husband.

You know, we have
a whole file of cases in Quahog

that would make great stories.

A lot of murdered women
out there, Bri.

Half of them named Britney,
half of them named Lacey.

That's one piece of advice
I always give young parents:

don't name them
Britney or Lacey.

Yeah, sad stuff.

You know, true crime is huge
right now.

You could be
sitting on a gold mine.

A gold mine, huh?

And this whole day I thought
it was just a smushed dook.

We now return to
Curb Your Enthusiasm,

where Jeff Garlin just repeats
everything Larry says.

So, I put on the shirt.

You put on the shirt!

I paid for it.

You paid for it!

I'm starting to think
you're, uh,

the weakest link in the cast.

Easily the weakest link!

Peter, the bank called
to say we're overdrawn,

and the credit card company
sent us a letter

that just says:
"Bitch better have my money."

Visa sent that?

God, they can do
whatever they want in Delaware.

Thanks for nothing, Sleepy Joe.

I wonder if this has anything
to do with me not getting paid

during the brewery renovations.

Wh-What do you mean
"not getting paid"?

Well, Preston said
we're all transitioning

to being
independent contractors.

The downside is we're losing
our health insurance,

but there's gonna be a pinball
machine in the break room.

Peter, we can't afford
to go two months

without your paycheck.

You're gonna have to
find a job in the meantime.

Lois, don't worry.
I got it all figured out.

"Dear Mr. Griffin,
we regret to inform you

that we cannot offer you
a space."

Another big
dance check in the mail.

I was just five years away
from three figures a month.

Joe, this stuff is great.

Yep, one man's murdered,
estranged wife

is another man's treasure.

Brian, I'm gonna have to ask you
to put down the severed limb.

I brought this from home.

Drop it. Drop it!

Ah, damn it, you said "drop it,"
so now I got to drop it.

You know, we should team up
and write a true crime novel.

You don't happen to have
any cases

featuring pretty blonde women,
do you?

No, those get solved
pretty quickly.

This victim was brunette
and a little heavy.

Okay, getting warmer.

We'll just change a few
key details so people care.

Gutierrez?
Nope, Gordon.

Murdered on
an Indian reservation?

Let's try Beverly Hills.

I'm thinking we go novel,
podcast, docuseries,

then full-blown blockbuster.

But we'd also be doing this
for the families, right?

Is that a new
streaming platform?

No, like, the families
of the victims?

Oh, right. Yeah, sure.

In fact, we'll give them
a sliver of the proceeds.

And I'll give
the fictional version

of their daughter bigger boobs.

Like-like real heavy naturals.

Oh, yeah, that sounds
like a good compromise.

Your special cart, Mrs. G.

Just gave the wheels
a fresh coat of WD-40.

Why, thank you, James.

Oh, Roberto, if you weren't
missing half an arm,

I'd definitely consider it.

Oh, how's the 6029s today, hmm?

Oh, Mrs. Lois, very fresh.

What's she talking about, Mommy?

Kale, dear.

It's insider speak for kale.

That can't possibly be a thing.

Let me just find someone
to make sure.

Oh, looks like someone
got pulled from the night shift

'cause I've never seen
this free sample.

- Peter?!
- Ladies and gentlemen,

we have a plot twist
on aisle four.

I'm the assistant manager
who thinks work should be fun,

and definitely not
a corporate spy

here to keep unions
from forming.

But now that
we're talking about it,

can you imagine
if you had a grievance

and couldn't talk to me
directly?

Anyway, I'm Elliot,

and I'm paying close attention

to who posts what
on the break room cork board.

Peter, what are you doing here?

You told me to get a job,
and they were hiring.

I love it here!

Plus, they let me joke around

with the Wells Fargo guys
who work here.

Yes, I'd like to make
a deposit, please.

Is it another 100 Grand
chocolate bar?

Okay, so I've had you before.

Peter, the grocery store is
kind of my domain.

While I'm glad you got a job,

I don't love
that you got one here.

Don't worry.
You won't even know I'm here.

Unless you're
near the front door,

which I can open
with the Force.

Excuse me,
where are the peanuts?

Aisle seven.

Peter, peanuts are on aisle two.

Eh, I just tell 'em
whatever number,

and then I disappear
into the produce mist.

Peter? Peter?

There was never Peter,
only loose carrots.

The body was discovered
around 9:00 p.m.

Unfortunately, I couldn't
make it down to the crime scene

because there were no ramps.

Okay, I'm gonna write:

"Tonight,
all the streets in this town

were a dead end."

I never saw the body.

It was cold,
so they sent me on a coffee run.

My lap can
accommodate two trays,

and I can't feel the spills.

"She was found in a creek,
her bosoms frozen solid."

She was a heavyset 60-something
in welder's coveralls.

"No one from Beverly Hills
had ever been strangled

by their own cheerleader skirt
before."

Wow, I can't believe I'm seeing
how the sausage is made.

Hey, so when you open a book
and you see "Random House,"

is that something
we come up with?

Uh, no, that's-that's
the publisher's name.

I see.
Just drinking it all in.

And what about the list of
cities you see under that name?

Because I was thinking we should
put New York, Paris, Kokomo.

Those are just the cities
where the publisher has offices.

And Kokomo isn't
a real city, Joe.

Try telling The Beach Boys that.

I don't know what our title
should be yet, but beneath it,

it should say: "Soon to be
a major motion picture."

I always buy the book
when I see that.

Why don't we just focus
on the writing?

Oh, hey, you ever see books

where the edges
of the pages are gold?

-Yeah?
-So cool.

What is going on in here?

Who put price tags
on all the cans?

And why is everything
labeled 69 cents?

Griffin Family Grocery is
currently under renovation.

Please excuse our dust.

Peter? Where are you?

Staring at butts
from behind a one-way mirror.

And why'd you
rearrange everything?

I just want to find my vitamins.

Cupboard four.
No, that's cupboard seven.

No, wrong way.

I'm not...
Is it warmer or colder?

Cupboard four.
Cupboard four.

Ma'am, don't worry,
this happens all the time.

I'm sure you have your receipt.

What? No,
I don't have a receipt.

Okay, then, we're just gonna
go to the office,

call your parents,
and send you on your way.

-Daddy, I just...
-There are gonna be
some changes around here.

First off, no more lipstick.

That's how
all this trouble started.

Okay,
so we just need the ending.

Who was the murderer?

Oh, I have no idea.
It's a cold case.

That's what makes 'em cold--
no one knows how to solve 'em.

Well, how do we finish our novel

if we don't know what happened
in real life?

-Ghost cop.
-No.

Do you know what this means?

We're gonna put on
our Sherlock Holmes hats

and solve the murder ourselves?

Deerstalker hats, Joe.
But yes.

Stupid nonwriter!

Okay, Brian, now,
when you're visiting

the family of a deceased victim,

you need to hold a hat
over your chest.

It shows you care.

All I have is this crown
from our Burger King lunch.

Hat's a hat.

How can I help you,
Officer and Your Highness?

Hi, yes. We're here with many
questions about your daughter.

You know, the dead one?
You-you remember her?

We'd love any details.

Is this some sort of sick joke?

I assure you it's not, ma'am.

We're writing
a future hit novel

based on your daughter's murder.

We just need to know who did it.

And, between us, it'd be great
if one of you did.

What is this?
What do you want?

Did you know
JonBenét Ramsey's dad

dated Natalee Holloway's mom?

What does that have to do
with our case?

Well, nothing,
it's just kind of weird, right?

Do you happen to have
any grainy video footage

of her singing an emotional song
at a talent show?

Maybe Green Day's
"Time of Your Life"?

That would really bust
this project wide open for us.

You're both unwell.

Well, that was a bust.

Sorry, I've been holding this in
since Burger King.

Oh, seriously? You're just
gonna leave that there?

These people have suffered
a terrible loss.

At least cover it with leaves
or something.

Ugh, fine.

Joe, look.
I found something.

-It's a key to a storage unit.
-How do you know that?

Yeah, me and Bonnie have been
doing a fun role-play thing

where she dresses up
like a sexy maid

and then locks me in a storage
unit while guys come over.

-Oh.
-Yeah, it's pretty kinky.

I, uh, I play the role of
a sexy armoire,

waiting in another room.

Sounds like she just wants you
out of the house for a while.

Nah. No.

It's okay, Lois.
It's a big store.

You may not even run into Peter.

Good morning.
How much are the mussels?

$34 a month
at Bally's Total Fitness.

Peter?

Why are you
behind the fish counter?

I got a promotion,
emphasis on the "otion."

Fine.

What do you got that's fresh?

Well, I got
a teenage son at home.

What a mouth on that kid.

That's it! You have
ruined groceries for me!

Get the hell out of my store,
you imbecile!

Um, excuse me, miss, did you
just yell at this employee?

You're damn right I did.

He has no business being here.

This man is a member
of the Stop 'n Shop family.

He has every business
being here.

You, on the other hand,
will have to go.

You're banned from the store.

What? No.

Y-You can't do this.

I have shopped here
my whole life.

Yes, we know.
If it's any consolation,

you'll be in
the "In Memoriam" section

of the Grocery Store Oscars.

♪ I will remember you ♪

♪ Will you remember me? ♪

♪ Don't let your life... ♪

No! No, no, no. You can't
put me after Betty White.

Didn't Brenda Vaccaro die
or something?

No.

I live here in aisle four
with the Kotex tampons.

Still more absorbent
than the leading brand.

The worst part is,
I can't even go back

to my favorite grocery store.

I personally think
you should give Peter a taste

of his own medicine and
get a job at his special place.

The men's room at Logan Airport?

No, the Drunken Clam.

Oh, okay, 'cause he had
this one experience there

that he still talks about
to this day,

but that is an intriguing idea,
Bonnie.

I'm glad you think so.

Well, as white women
in conversation,

we're now obligated
to spend five minutes

talking about Sedona, Arizona.

-Oh, I'd love to go.
-I know.

My friend Linda got a massage
there after her divorce.

And my friend Trish
bought a painting there.

-Oh, we got to go.
-We got to go.

Hey, you two haven't
seen Peter, have you?

Asking as a waitress
trying to teach him a lesson

by working at his favorite
place, not as his wife.

Whoa, check out the turd-cutter
on the new chick.

That's right.
I work here now.

I'm gonna be here all the time.

Oh, how does it feel
to have someone invade

your special space?

It feels great!

Speaking of
invading special places,

how about this?

Hey, sweetie,
when do you get off work?

Me and my wife are more friends
at this point than anything.

Don't get me wrong,
she's a great gal,

raised my children,
but time takes its toll,

you know what I mean?

What? My wife and I have
an arrangement,

so I'm not doing anything
wrong here, technically.

Ah, well, this isn't working.

If you want to meet me
in my car later,

it's the one with
the "Blue Lives Matter" sticker.

But, like, not for cops,
it's for, it's for Grover.

Who's going in first?

Kind of feels like you should
since you're a dog.

Are you scared, Joe?

Would a scared person do this?

Not so fast.

Who is that?

I'm guessing
it's the lady from Serial.

Oh, I certainly wouldn't
recognize a podcaster visually.

-I'm Sarah Koenig.
-Big fan of your work.

No one turns another person's
suffering into profit better.

Listen up, I want this case
for my podcast,

so you need to drop it.

And if you don't,
I could make you disappear.

We're sponsored
by Casper mattresses.

That wasn't a threat.
I have a code if you want it.

Stand down, Sarah.

I'm Keith Morrison,

and I want this case
for Dateline.

There are only a few hundred
unsolved murders left,

and there's a million
true crime content creators.

My grandson taught me that term.

Who's "okay, boomer" now?

We're NPR's team
of women with lisps

and names nobody's ever had,

like Sylvia Delgado-Smith,
and Audie Takahashi O'Shea.

I'm Chris Hansen
from To Catch a Predator,

and I'm just here
in case any of you

turn out to be pedophiles.

Warm chocolate chip cookie,
anyone?

No! I claimed this cold case
for Serial.

Not if I record a Dateline
first.

Please...
rate and review my life.

And someone take care of my dog

you could usually hear
in the background of my podcast.

A foggy night
at a storage unit in Quahog.

The sleepy little town of Quahog

is usually all tucked in
by 10:00 p.m.

You know what?
We're no better than them.

We've been exploiting
the victim's life

for our own personal gain.

I-I think it's time for us
to abandon writing this book.

Or... maybe we set it to rap
lyrics and take it to Broadway?

I think we're done here.

You know, Joe,
even though it didn't work out,

it was nice to spend
some time with someone

who actually believed
in my writing.

Well, as someone who's never
read a book, I absolutely do.

The waitress from the Clam!
Holy crap, has Lois seen you?!

We really don't have
an arrangement.

You got to get out of here!

Oh, Peter, enough.

-What's the matter?
-You wouldn't understand.

Okay.

I'd get back in there, chief.

Chris made me come back.

Oh, honey,
the grocery store isn't just

where I buy food for the family.

It's my escape.

My refuge
from being pestered

with dumb questions
from the kids,

or having to clean up
your messes.

Sometimes, just a stroll
down the ethnic food aisle

makes me feel like
I'm in a North African bazaar.

Yeah, I don't like the smells
on that aisle.

-And I don't know,
it's hard to explain, but...
-There's more?!

It's not just
a grocery store to me.

There's a whole
community of people there

who feel like family.

And now,
now I have nothing.

Aw, Lois, I'm so sorry
for ruining your happy place.

And I'm gonna take care of it.

Just like I've been taking care
of that egg since high school.

Oh, my God, I forgot to pick
him up from soccer practice!

Hey, do you need me
to call your yolks?

Look, you got to let Lois
come back.

Please remove the ban.
She loves this place.

I'm sorry, but I can't do that.

She yelled at
a mentally-challenged person,

and that's unforgivable.

What?
I'm not mentally challenged.

You're not?
But that's literally

the only reason we hired you.

Would a mentally challenged
person be able to do this?

Your name tag says "Big Petey."

Why do you think
we all gather round

and applaud you while you ride

the coin-operated horse
out front?

'Cause I'm good at horses?

Wow.
I really thought...

You know, we don't let
all our employees insist

the customers feel their muscles
after bagging their order.

Right?

Okay, fine.

Lois can come back,
but you're fired.

I need you to turn in
your gun and badge.

Well, I guess
my work here is done.

To the Mickey-Copter!

See, Disney?

Nothing here
but respectful synergy.

What happened to
the open floor plan?

Long story. The WeWork guy
took our entire budget

for the project
as a holiday bonus.

But he has long hair
and speaks confidently

about the Internet,

so he will get about
eight more chances.

Ah, yes, the WeWork guy.

They thought he had created
a $47 billion unicorn.

Turns out it was only
a two-bit donkey.

That's wet paint,
by the way.

Ah, son of a...