Original subtitles

Hey, Dick Neck.

Who do you think is more important?

A chiropractor making six figures or a well -connected taxidermist?

Well, it depends on whether I have a bad back or a dead bear.

What? Well, we're picking potential godfathers for our little prodigy in

progress. So far, we've narrowed the A -list down to 85 of our most prominent

friends and relations.

You got to know where you stand on the latest Harris poll?

Let's see. Loud and loud.

Michael, you're forgetting Dick didn't make the second cut.

Right. Ah, but you did make the B lick. See?

Dick.

So then Prince Philip turns to his trusty butler.

And he says, you idiot, I told you to make the queen rum, not make the queen

mum.

Oh, you got that one, did you, George?

Not even close.

Oh, does this mean I'm losing my favorite chess partner?

Oh, I'm afraid that's a check.

You know, I really enjoyed that story you told about...

Prince Albert in the can.

I mean, I... I was, you know, I was sure that you, you know, you meant tobacco.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

There. Oh,

I say, I seem to be rather low on funds.

That's all right. We take credit cards, traveler checks.

Bet you know.

Dick, you're not letting him get away, are you?

Not if I can stop him.

Reginald is stiffing you on the bill.

Oh, I'm sure this is just another one of Reginald's jokes.

I want my 800 bucks.

I've got it.

For you, my good host.

Well, I'm very flattered, but I'm pretty happy with Joanna.

I'm available.

Oh, sure. I make a joke and nobody laughs.

What is this? It represents my claim to a British lordship. It's legitimate, I

assure you.

Here. The paperwork seems to be in order. I believe what?

Well, it's a very pretty ring, but I couldn't help noticing your...

Gold Rolex?

I don't believe you're grasping the import here, old thing. You see, from

day forth, you're no longer a humble little innkeeper.

You are Richard Loudon, Lord of Stumpworth -on -Thames.

Well, mustache.

Oh, um, welcome to British nobility, Richard. Or rather, your lordship.

Well, I think we just got the shaft.

Yes, but the royal one.

I get that.

It's not a joke, George. Oh.

I'm Larry. This is my brother Darryl, and this is my other... Huh?

My other brother Darryl has cut short my intro.

due to his astonishment in seeing the signet ring of the Lord of Stumpworth on

Thames.

How did you know?

Daryl minored in royal genealogy when he was on his Rowan scholarship at Oxford.

Funny, I always had Daryl pegged as a Cambridge man.

No, that was Daryl here.

Imagine the ribbing my brothers gave me when I ended up going to Montpelier

Trade Tech.

Daryl, I can't believe I'm asking, but can you tell if this is authentic?

It's legit, all right.

Daryl would recognize the queen's teeth stains anywhere.

Tell me, I really am the lord of Stumpworth on temps?

You may be a lord, Dick, but you put your overalls on one strap at a time,

like the rest of us.

I don't wear overalls. Too good, huh?

You know, it might be kind of fun being Lady Loudon.

You know, I'm not sure, you know, if my being a lord,

you know, makes you a lady. I mean, you know, technically.

Technically speaking.

But we could still call me Lady Loudon just for fun, right?

Oh, we could.

But that wouldn't be wrong.

Michael, tell them the good news or I'll explode.

After whittling away at our A -list, we're ecstatic to announce that Baby X's

new god padre is... My great Uncle Tata.

Tata? Yes, Tata.

Not only is he well -heeled and well -preserved, he's Steph's only unindicted

male relative.

Oh, he's been lonely and miserable, holed up for years in that old dark

But when I told him the wonderful news, he took a big hit of oxygen and wept

tears of joy.

Well, he sounds like a happy Tata.

Carry me back to old Wisconsin. There's mucho mozzarella on that pie.

This is extra cheese from Mama Veracella. What are you, royalty or

I was just made a British lord.

It's no big deal, and please don't bow or curtsy.

He's pulling your newly waxed leg, Lampskin.

They don't give genuine lordships to just any old doofus.

Dick is not just any old doofus.

Reggie couldn't pay his bill, so he stuck me with this stupid title.

Calling all Harris's.

Congrats, Lord Loudon. After agonizing deliberation, we've selected you as God

Poppy to our prize project.

We're so happy for you.

Well, what a wonderful and incredibly shallow gesture.

Won't this upset your tata when you tell him?

She's right.

Unless this is handled delicately, it could crush the very life out of him.

We won't tell him. We'll fax him the news first thing tomorrow morning.

You're a softie, you know it.

Well, your lovable lordship, we bid you a royal farewell.

And for you, Joanna, a generic nighty -night should suffice.

A generic nighty -night back at you.

Don't you want to say goodnight to your future godchild?

Good, uh... Good... Goodnight, kid.

There, you see? I told you I smelled pizza.

Oh, you're always smelling pizza.

We'd like to request an audience with Richard Loudon, Lord of Stumpworth on

Look, will you give the bowing a rest? What do you want?

Well, we'd like your highness to use his royal wisdom to settle a dispute.

Chester thinks it's time for me to get a haircut.

But I disagree.

Oh, grab a mirror, Jim. You look like one of those ragamuffin MTV punks.

Admit it, Chester. You're just jealous of my boyish appearance.

This is idiotic. I'm no barber.

We know. You're a lord.

We're waiting, Your Lordship.

I think you could use a little trim.

There you see, Jim.

Now, before we waste the rest of a perfectly good evening, let's go back to

house and finish that game of Battleship. I'm going to destroy your

takes me all night.

I'll meet you in the car. I'm awaiting a decision on my sideburns.

You know, Jim, this is getting kind of sad.

Well, actually...

That was just a device to get you alone.

And an ingenious one.

Well, here's the skinny. Have you heard about the bait -and -tackle shop that's

opening this weekend?

Who hasn't? It's been the lead story in the news all week.

Well, we had a secret meeting of the town council today, and we voted for

our beloved Lord Loudon, to do the ribbon -cutting honors.

Isn't that one of the mayor's jobs?

Well, this is too big for a mayor.

This is Vermont's first in -mall live bait shop.

Boy, you know what that means?

Yeah, it is an outside, which is where a live bait shop should be.

Then you'll do it. Oh, hot dog.

I hope we can also count on Lady Loudon's presence.

I'm sure Mrs.

Loudon might tang along.

Boy, what a coup.

Well, this is going to destroy Chester.

He became mayor just so he could cut ribbons.

Honey, what can I do? The people have spoken.

My people have spoken.

You can still call me Dick.

What's with the new suit?

Giuseppe, the tailor, thought that I should wear something more befitting my

station at the ribbon cutting.

You bought a custom -made suit?

It was free, but I'm letting Giuseppe hang a sign above his shop that says,

the guy that made the nice suit for Lord Dick.

What about a team of ours?

I wouldn't mind a spot.

Hit me.

A spot of tea? You hate tea.

I know, but I feel I should be doing something very British -y.

Before I fetch my lord his scones, might I pick his royal brain?

Pick away, my child.

Michael and I were hoping you could help us select a suitable godmother.

What about Joanna?

Get real, your highness.

A lord for godfather and a common wench for godmother?

Couldn't you just pretend that Joanna was a lady?

I suppose.

But that would be wrong.

Well, I guess it's time for this common wench to go milk the cows and sing some

bawdy songs.

She's simple, but good folk.

Anyway, if it's not a bother, I was wondering if you could call the Queen of

England and ask her to be our baby's godmother.

Well, I don't know that the Queen would want to talk to, uh...

What am I saying? I mean, we are both noble.

Thank you.

I'll see to your scones now.

Long live you, my lord.

And long live you, too.

What is that?

The royal wave.

Ah.

I want to know where... I've been all morning, listening to Chester spill his

guts about this ribbon -cutting thing.

He's that upset, huh?

No, Dick. He's spilling his guts in a happy way.

What a twit.

Thanks to you, my old pal Chester's a broken mayor.

It may sound silly, your fancy -pants lordship, but he loves cutting ribbons

way other men love greasing their snowblowers.

What the hell are you doing?

Just practicing the royal wave.

Boy, stick a fork in you, because you are done.

Wow, he's practicing his royal wave.

No, no, I just, uh, kink.

Well, we came to escort you to the grand event. Your townspeople await your

royal arrival.

I love your feet.

They get me around.

You remember Mr. Resnick from the Circus of Shoes.

I come bearing complimentary footwear.

Would you allow me to slip them on the royal feet?

Hey.

Eight and a half, triple D.

Same width as Maggie Thatcher.

They're top -of -the -line, Korean -made, imitation, leather -like

How do they feel?

Almost like real shoes.

Yeah, most people can't tell the difference until they get them wet.

After you, my lord.

A coach and a dozen ponies await.

Look, guys, don't you think you're going a little overboard? I mean, you know,

it's just a simple ribbon snipping.

He does understand this is an in -mall bait shop.

Well, I thought he did.

I hope you're not backing out. The whole town's turned out for your speech.

I didn't prepare a speech.

Oh.

Well, your presence alone will be enough.

Just say hello, tell a few jokes, and you're out.

Okay.

Are these shoes supposed to stick to the floor like this?

Guess the paint hasn't dried yet.

I saw a beautiful coach outside.

I've always dreamed of riding in a coach.

Yeah, well, keep dreaming, woman.

This coach is SRO Stratford Royalty only.

I suppose we...

Couldn't pretend I was royalty.

Well, we could.

But that would be wrong.

Get out there, people.

I give you Richard Loudon, Lord of Stumpworth on Thames.

Thank you, and hello, hello, everybody.

I'd like to welcome you all to the grand opening of this lovely live

bait shop.

I didn't really prepare a speech or anything.

You know, I just thought I was going to cut a ribbon.

I don't know. Would anyone like to hear a joke? Yeah!

Okay.

A couple of guys walk into... No, I'm sorry.

One guy walks into a tobacco shop and he asks if...

If they have Prince Albert tobacco.

No, no.

He asked if they have Prince Albert in the can.

Yeah, that's it.

And the shop owner says that they do.

And then the other guy, you know, the guy that...

The guy that walked into the shop, he says, well, you better

let him out. He probably can't breathe in there.

I knew that one would go over.

Well, I guess it's time to cut the ribbon. Tell another joke.

All right.

It seems...

It seems that dear Fergie went to this fat farm in Brighton, and

she couldn't pay her bill.

And I can't remember the stuff in between, but the

punchline is something like, she may be short of pounds, but

she certainly isn't short of pounds.

Is that a true story about Sarah Ferguson?

No, that's a... It's a joke.

Oh. So what are you doing, Loudon? Making fun of fat people?

I thought you'd like royal jokes.

You're the royal joke!

Hey, listen, why don't I just... I'll just cut the ribbon. He slams the royal

family and still thinks he's gonna cut the ribbon? Who does he think he is?

What are we going to do? If nobody cuts the ribbon, how will we get in the

store?

Let's go in for the roof.

No need for that.

I'll cut the ribbon.

Please fire this lord.

You can't fire a monarch.

He either has to abdicate his throne or have his head cut off.

since we don't know what abdicate means.

I don't get it. I mean, one minute you're bowing to me and then I tell a

jokes and you turn on me like a pack of rabid dogs.

Well, we're a fickle little town.

Come on, Chester, cut the ribbon.

Well, here goes.

I mean, aren't you going to stay here with me?

I'd rather eat bait.

See, I told you they'd have refreshments.

You scuff them, you bottom.

Well, it's like the old saying, what goes around comes around.

Here, George.

I won't be a lord.

Do I?

Meow.