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♪ 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! ♪
Good evening. I'm Tom Tucker.
Please don't adjust your sets.
I've been sneezing all over the camera.
That's right. The flu epidemic has officially hit Quahog.
So, for the rest of tonight's broadcast,
my mommy will be spoon‐feeding me chicken soup.
- Mommy. - Tommy.
Hey, guys, I brought a sneeze home from school.
You want to see it?
Ah‐ah...
(distorted): No...!
...choo!
- ♪ Do, do, do, do ♪ - ("Ode to My Family" by The Cranberries playing)
♪ Do, do, do, do ♪
♪ Do, do, do, do ♪
♪ Do, do, do, do ♪
♪ Do, do, do, do ♪
♪ Do, do, do, do ♪
♪ Do, do, do, do. ♪
♪
(music stops)
(groaning)
(sneezes)
Damn it, who's secretly an X‐Man?
You know, I'm actually starting to not feel well.
Oh, boy. Guess we better line it up for butt temps.
I'll go first and third.
Peter, you look okay. Would you mind going out
and grabbing some medicine?
Okay, but if I get a DUI, it's your fault.
You're drunk?
It's after dinner!
(shuts off engine)
Where is everybody?
Hmm.
♪ Glass of cold lemonade ♪
("Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?" by Paula Cole playing)
♪ I will do the laundry ♪
♪ If you pay all the bills ♪
♪ Where is my John Wayne? ♪
♪ Where is my prairie song? ♪
♪ Where is my happy ending? ♪
♪ Where have all the cowboys gone? ♪
(sighs) Damn it, I give up.
♪
Paula Cole!
Oh, I hate her. I should've known that.
♪ Why don't you stay... ♪
(crickets chirping)
Two outs, bottom of the ninth,
man on second, Red Sox down by a run.
Peter Griffin down to his last strike.
Here comes the pitch.
Strike three, and he knew it.
Didn't even get the bat off his shoulder.
Griffin will almost certainly be sent down to Triple‐A Pawtucket.
Strike three, and he knew it.
Griffin will almost certainly be sent to Double‐A Bristol.
Strike three, and he knew it.
Griffin will certainly be sent to the dirt field
where they filmed The Sandlot.
Strike three, and he knew it.
Mr. Griffin, maybe it's time to try a different sport.
(shoes squeaking)
Five seconds left, Celtics down by one.
Griffin with a clear line to the basket.
Off his foot and out of bounds!
(dog panting)
Stay.
Sorry, I couldn't find a sitter.
So, I ran some tests and it's official:
you all have the flu.
But luckily you got here in time.
Doc, this is very important.
How long before she can make dinner again?
I only know how to make eggs.
Oh, don't worry. Everyone should make a full recovery
in a couple of days.
Okay, good. I can egg my way through that.
I actually wanted to talk to you, Peter.
It's very rare that someone would be around
so many infected people and not get sick themselves.
So I went ahead and tested you
and I found something very interesting.
(dog whimpering)
Sadie, quiet. I'm right here.
Rescues. Not worth it.
Peter, you appear to have a very strong immune system.
Kegels.
- What? - I don't know.
Anyway, this flu season has decimated the hospital,
and we're severely short‐staffed.
How would you like to be a male nurse?
Do I get to wear those green pajama clothes all day?
- Yes. - I'll do it!
Wow. I've never helped anyone before.
Well, except for that time I picked the last piece of bread.
Whoa. You picked me.
I've been skipped and flipped
and reached over so many times,
I wasn't sure I'd ever get out.
So, what are you gonna put on me?
Jelly? Cream cheese?
Maybe some nut butters?
Actually, I'm just using you to squish a spider.
Aw.
Yuck. Yuck, yuck, yuck.
(birds chirping)
You know, last week's flu scare got me thinking.
I don't know anything about my genetic makeup
or what other illnesses I might be susceptible to.
You know who'd love this story? Chris.
So, it made me want to do a 23andMe genetic test.
- Chris! - It says I'm predisposed
to like caffeine.
So true, so true.
I can't even function without my caff.
I get all grr.
How many more of these are there?
Whew, don't have the Alzheimer's gene.
That's good.
And it says I don't have the Alzheimer's gene,
so that's good.
Hmm.
Wait, what was that?
It was nothing.
Oh, my God. Brian.
You're one percent cat!
And part Black.
- What?! - Whoa!
I was just kidding about the Black thing.
That was a test and you... (blows raspberry)
Morning, family.
I need breakfast stat.
Are you excited for your first day as a nurse, Dad?
I am. Thanks, Mug.
Meg.
M‐Mug...
So, how's this gonna work, Dad?
You don't know anything about medicine.
Oh, there's a lot more to being a nurse
than medical mumbo jumbo.
For example, what's the next holiday?
Memorial Day.
- The next one. - Fourth of July.
- Say "Christmas." - Christmas.
‐(bell jingles) ‐Eh?
That's good nursing.
Yeah, I agree with Chris.
I don't think you have the makeup to be a nurse.
- You're impatient... - Are you done?
...and you faint when you see blood.
I got over that. Pass the ketchup.
"Oh, don't buy a fainting couch, Stewie.
No one in this house is gonna need a fainting couch, Stewie."
Hey, Stewie.
What was that?
Was that a cat stretch?
Oh, my God, is that what that looks like?
I mean, you said it.
I guess that DNA report was right on the money.
Nature over nurture.
(purring)
What are you‐‐ Are you purring?
Do you really think you're a cat?
Yeah. No, I‐‐ I don't know.
Okay? I‐I just feel different.
I don't care what that report said.
You're not a cat.
You're what's called a pretentious absorber.
- What's that? - You remember how Madonna lived in London
for, like, a month and then started talking
with a British accent?
It's that.
If I weren't a cat,
would I be obsessed with this scratch post?
That's not a scratch post.
That's Meg's leg.
(intensely): Don't stop.
Peter, welcome to your first day.
Doc, this may sound silly, but...
(Southern accent): what do I do?
As a nurse, it's important to know
how every department in a hospital works.
So today I need you to observe surgery.
(monitor beeping steadily)
PETER: Boo!
Boo! My sister can attach ventricles better than you!
(chanting): He's not Jewish!
(clapping rhythmically)
Come on, everybody!
He's not Jewish!
Peter? What are you doing here?
I'm your nurse.
So, what brings you in today, Mr...
- Quagmire? - Look, I‐I don't really feel comfortable
sharing my health problems with one of my buddies.
Can I get a different nurse?
You're in a hospital, Glenn.
Anything you say is private and confidential
- and legally protected by HIPAA... - Don't say it.
...potamus.
What's said here stays here.
- So, what's your problem? - (sighs)
Okay. So, I was at home watching Mrs. Fletcher.
- Mm‐hmm. - It's a pretty sexually driven show,
- and it kinda gets me going. - Right, right. - (keys clacking, message sends)
- (clacking) - So, I'm pretty revved up and I decide to...
- you know. - Sure. - (message sends)
- (phone chiming) - And I don't have a prayer of finishing
- Like, weird notches. - Uh‐huh.
- So I look over at my side table and I see the Apple TV remote - (chiming)
- and I think, "Well, that could work." - Right.
- (clacking, sending) - Before I know it, I've got six Apple TV remotes
- taped together and my foot behind my head. - Got it.
And just as I get everything... you know...
- (rapid chiming) - 'Kay. - ...Mrs. Fletcher ends
- and Watchmen starts, which scares me... - Mm. Wow.
...but now it's too late because everything's... you know.
- Oh, my stars. - (phone buzzes)
Uh, hold on a second. I got a text.
- What do we got? - Suspected heart attack.
He's not breathing. No pulse.
I can save him, but we got to move fast.
Give me 20cc's of Music Factory.
Clear!
♪ Everybody dance now! ♪
Again! Clear!
♪ Everybody dance now! ♪
Clear!
♪ Everybody dance now! ♪
(beeping to the rhythm of "Everybody Dance Now")
You did it! Great work.
Don't thank me.
Thank silly '90s songs.
What do we got?
Head injury. He got knocked down.
We'll get him up again.
I need two milligrams of Chumba
and one of Wamba!
Oh, hey, Brian.
You want to come up?
Come on up. Come on.
Right here. Jump up.
Pss, pss, pss. (clicking tongue)
Jump up. (smooching)
Come on. There's a spot right here.
Come on up. Be a friend.
Just jump up.
I know you want to come up here.
Jump the hell up here, you dope.
I demand that you jump up here and be a companion.
Be a companion! Get up here!
Mommy?
All right.
Now I'm gonna scratch your forehead for a while,
so don't seem like you like it at first,
then suddenly bite my hand for no reason.
(purring)
Ow! That's it. I'm gonna go online
and buy you a $70 toy you'll hate.
Enjoy your soup, old man whose butt is out.
(gasps) You!
♪
(coughs)
Geez, what's wrong with you? We usually start fighting.
I'm dying, Peter.
Oh.
Let me close your privacy curtains
to make you more comfortable.
(prolonged flatulence)
That feel better?
I'm sorry, Dr. Hartman, but I can't help this patient.
We're really big rivals.
Peter, if I only helped people I liked,
everyone in this hospital would be dead.
Just do what I do‐‐ help them out,
then angry Footloose dance‐out your frustrations.
WOMAN (over P. A.): Dr. Hartman, please report to Cardiology.
- Dr. Hartman. - I got to go.
♪
(wheezes, coughs)
This must make you pretty happy. (coughs)
Seeing me like this.
I took too much ecstasy in my 20s,
so nothing makes me happy anymore.
- What's wrong with you anyway? - Bird flu.
But there's a vaccine for that.
Yeah, loaded with... (coughs)
mercury and antifreeze. (coughs)
No... thank you.
Ah, I knew I hated you for a good reason.
This is probably for the best anyway.
There's nothing left for me in this world.
I lost my job, I lost my house,
my wife left me for a bigger cock.
- Cocks are chickens. - I'm better off dead.
Oh, that's sad. I agree.
I guess that means I win, huh?
I guess so.
After all these years, who thought it would end like this?
Yeah, it's, uh, kind of anticlimactic.
I always thought it would end with me
- eating you for Thanksgiving. - Eating you for Thanksgiving?
Wait. Birds eat people on Thanksgiving?
- Yeah. - Huh. Cool.
Well, a win's a win, even if it's like this.
And it's too bad. I had an awesome line
I was gonna say when I finally beat you.
Oh, yeah? What was it?
(chuckling): Oh, it was a good one.
Say it.
I got to go.
You get five minutes to say goodbye to your father.
Sup, Ernie?
Holy moly, that's a huge cock.
Chris, no footsy under the table.
It's disturbing.
Good evening, family.
Champagne?
Maybe open that facing...
- (yowls) - Ah, (bleep). My eye!
What are we celebrating?
Is our IRS audit finally over?
Oh, we wish.
Also, we have to put a desk in the garage and the attic.
Every room needs a desk.
Our house has to be more office than living space.
Anyway, this champagne is to celebrate my victory
over the Giant Chicken.
I saw him at the hospital today.
He's dying, which means our great feud is finally over,
and I won.
- What feud? - Wait.
- Peter and the Giant Chicken? - Who?
The Giant Chicken. Come on. Everybody knows we have a feud.
It's like Bart and Sideshow Bob.
Ooh! I love the Bart and Sideshow Bob feud!
Multiple episodes over multiple seasons.
An ongoing story line with a classic guest star
played by television legend Kelsey Grammer.
Giant Chicken is classic!
- Who plays him? - Danny Smith.
- Who? - Danny Smith.
Any‐Anyway, I won. Another bottle?
- You're the only one... - (yowls)
(bleep)! My eye!
The Giant Chicken is really dying?
A‐Aren't you gonna help him? You're a nurse.
- You took an oath. - Actually, I didn't.
I don't get paid, and they don't even validate my parking.
What about a GoFundMe?
We're white people. That seems like the natural response.
No, Lois. I'm not helping him. He's my enemy.
He gave me a bad coupon
in what online idiots say was our best season.
Unforgivable, and I say, good riddance.
Another bottle?
- Oh, that's me. - (yowling)
- You dick! - (yowling)
You need him, Peter.
Everyone needs a rival.
Wilt had Russell, Bird had Magic,
LeBron has his hairline.
Oh, basketball?
I know hair‐related sports things.
Hate is the most important emotion in life next to love.
When you have someone to hate, you have something to live for,
someone to beat at something.
I have blue Subaru 8CXX475.
It stole my spot in a Target parking lot
on Black Friday three years ago,
and I've carried a D battery in my pocket every day since.
This is either gonna break a windshield, teeth,
or in a perfect world, both.
And the thought of that car
somewhere out there gets me up every morning.
Vengeance is a powerful alarm clock.
If the Giant Chicken dies,
a part of you dies, too, Peter!
And you're gonna be searching for something
to fill that void the rest of your life!
That's good, Lois, but I'm not helping him.
- Helping who? - The Giant Chicken.
(mouth full): Oh, yeah, your big rival.
Aah! It was my turn.
Now to curl up on a warm car hood with a book on tape.
MORGAN FREEMAN: Garfield Tips the Scales
as read by Morgan Freeman.
"How did you like your lunch, Garfield?"
"Burp, burp. I give it two burps."
(laughs)
Hey, what the hell are you doing?
Oh. Hey, Quagmire. What, you haven't heard?
I found out I'm a cat.
So, I guess you and I are cool.
(laughs) I don't care what you did
to convince yourself that you're a cat.
You're not a cat, Brian.
I think my genetic makeup would disagree.
Okay, Brian, if you're really a cat,
prove it by jumping off your roof.
If you land on your feet, safe and sound,
I'll agree that you're a cat.
That's it? Just jump?
Done.
♪ Blame it on my ADD, baby ♪
♪ Sail... ♪
Not a cat.
(coughing)
Nope.
♪
(laughs)
♪
Ah. (laughs)
I'm dying.
You need him, Peter.
I haven't been home in years.
Oh, my God.
Lois was right. I have to help him.
- (horns honking) - Aah! I pushed too far.
Hey, Bri, sorry that roof jump didn't work out.
I guess you were right about me.
I'm just a nobody dog.
Well, since you're going to be laid up,
I got you another book on tape:
Marmaduke as read by Benicio Del Toro.
BENICIO DEL TORO: "Marmaduke, get out of that bathtub.
You look like a (bleep) idiot."
Please take this off my head.
Anyway, I just wanted to say
that you shouldn't need a DNA report
to know who you really are on the inside,
so I printed out a new report for you‐‐
a Brian report, and here are the results.
You're 30% beagle, 20% hound,
15% terrible writer, 18% alcoholic,
ten percent Snoopy and...
two percent great guy.
Thanks, Stewie.
I'm ready for another Vicodin and peanut butter now.
(beeping slowly)
(monitor flatlines)
Time of death: Bob.
- 8:08. - I know numbers!
It's just been revoked.
I think he uses that wrong a lot.
Come on! You got to live, damn it! I need you!
You do have something to live for: me!
You hate me, remember?
Remember!
- (blows landing) - Aren't you gonna do something?
He's punching a dead patient.
Oh, yeah. You're right.
Good idea number 47:
Fight Club, but with hospital people.
(gasps)
(beeping slowly)
You...
♪
...saved me? Why?
Because I hate you.
Every day, I wake up not knowing if you're gonna
come out of nowhere and punch me in the face.
I flinch every time a door opens.
I look over my shoulder
every time I bend down to tie my shoes.
And I flip my porch light on every night before I go to bed
just to see if you're standing there.
Do you have any idea how exciting that is?
So I didn't save your life because I like you.
I saved it because...
because I hate you.
I hate you, too, Peter Griffin.
Also, if you die, I'll be solely responsible
for all the destruction we've caused over the years,
so this decision is both emotional and financial.
You can give him his medicine now, Dr. Hartman.
You haven't been giving him his medicine?!
Nah, I'm scared of needles so I've been faking all my nursing.
This guy's nuts.
(refrigerator humming)
(crickets chirping)
Mmm.
Good.
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