All language subtitles for Family Guy s21e14 White Meg Cant Jump.eng

♪ 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! ♪

May I join the Loser's Club?

(sighs) I don't care
what yearbook captions you saw,

we are not yet
an organized club.

(gasps)

Oh, hells yeah!

There's only one reason
the lunch lady

puts the gray oven mitt back on:

second tray of French bread
pizza coming out.

Got to move quick
if you want to get the one

with two pepperonis.

- (grunts)
- Hey!

- Move. (grunts)
- (grunts)

STUDENT: I'll have you know
I'm a Stouffer.

Where you at, pepperonis?

Aha! I hope your affairs
are in order.

- Honey?
- The deed to the house

is in the drawer
under the phone.

(snarling)

Meg, what you did back there,

boxing out those students,
was quite impressive.

Really?

Have you ever considered
trying out

for the girls basketball team?

I've just taken the job
as head coach

in an attempt to build character
for my upcoming divorce hearing.

I thought you were
already divorced.

I was.
I'm getting divorced again.

Turns out the first bitch

might've been right
about my misogyny.

Hey, Stewie,
what are you watching?

The most glorious website
of all time:

YouTube.

I only hope the site doesn't run
out of content for me to watch.

You know, you should really
be careful on YouTube, Stewie.

You never know
what's gonna pop up next.

I mean, there's some
wild stuff out there.

- Okay, boomer.
- I'm not a boomer, I'm Gen X.

Brian, you save back issues
of Costco magazine.

Uh, it's called
the Costco Connection,

and it's how I get good deals
on cruises.

Yeah, you're not
helping yourself here.

Let's see.
"Suggested videos for you:

"'Joe Rogan
interviews Boss Baby,'

'Goodnight Moon:
Fact or Hoax?'"

Whoa, listen to this one, Rupert.

"The Truth About Naps."

- I hate naps,
and I love the truth. - (tablet beeps)

NARRATOR:
On March 7th, 1999,

a resistance took place
at Tree House Day Care

in Atlanta, Georgia,

that would expose the truth
about nap time forever.

Harold "Harry" Brockmeyer,
age three,

refused to nap.

He was not tired,
as he had slept 16 hours

the previous evening.

In fact, after lunch,

he made a finger painting
that, to this day,

still hangs on
his parents' refrigerator.

Well, ho... ly (bleep).

NARRATOR:
The fact is,

naps only exist

for the oppression
of young children

and as a scam to give parents
time to themselves.

Could it be true?

Oh, I must get
to the bottom of this,

like a hard-nosed
police detective.

Jenkins, I'm taking you
off this murder.

You're too close to the case.

Okay, but what if I could get
further away from the case?

- What do you mean?
- What if I could, like,

not care who killed that family?

Oh. Well, then you could stay
on the case, obviously.

- As long as you don't care.
- Care about what?

The ca-- Uh... Nice. (laughs)

Get back to work.

Okay, Stewie,
time to rest your little head.

Here's your bottle.

Mommy's gonna nap, too.
Sweet dreams.

(cork pops)

(gasps) She's not sleeping.

She's scrolling through
old photos of herself.

This is exactly what the video
was talking about.

Ugh, look how young I looked.

Oh, my God, now she's retweeting
Hoover sponsored content,

trying to get a free vacuum.

Oh, and now she's scrolled past
a fundraiser

for "Women of Iran,"
not even a "like."

Hey, Quagmire.
What are you doing here?

One of these gals turning 18?

No, Peter. Believe it or not,
I actually care

about Adam West High School
girls basketball.

I'm a longtime fan of the sport,
and I find it relaxing here.

It's never crowded.

Just me and the goth kids
who come here

to actively ignore the game.

So then I said, "What do you
think of my hair now, Dad?"

- What did he say?
- He said he loved me either way.

Ass.

This could be
that championship season.

Finally get that team photo
up at Applebee's.

Oh, God, I don't want
to get ahead of myself.

I don't care about any of that.
Meg is trying out,

and Lois made me come
because she says I'm her "dad."

(whistle blows)

Okay, Griffin, you're up next.
Take a shot.

- (sighs)
- Yeah, no.

I've seen enough, Griffin.

I guess I was wrong about you.

Hey, Meg, I can see your penis.

- (laughs) She looked.
- She did look.

(growls)

(all gasp)

What, are your feet nailed
to the ground? Jump.

Well, okay. You're on the team.

(excited laughter)

All right!
I'm gonna go tell all the guys

at the brewery, like Rudy's dad.

(over P. A.): My daughter
made the basketball team.

(cheering)

I heard a lady fart while she
was pumping gas this morning.

- (louder cheering)
- A lot, a lot to celebrate today.

Come on,
where's the energy, ladies?

And that was meant
to be an insult.

Ow!

What happened to the Meg
I saw in tryouts?

Our first game is tomorrow,

and the whole team
is counting on you.

- Hey, Meg.
- They just let any strange adult

in here anytime, huh?

Yeah, well, the gym is not
connected to the main campus,

so, uh... But listen, I think
I know what your issue is.

You did much better
at tryouts, right?

- Yeah.
- Well, what was different?

My socks? Wait, no, no.

- Still the same.
- Your dad was here.

Do you think
Dad helps me play better?

"Help" is a more positive word
than I would use,

but, technically, yeah.

Each time he heckled you,
you played well.

I just wanted
to prove him wrong.

Well, there's your spinach, Popeye.

(laughs) Man, am I aging myself.

All right, I'm gonna go
to the gym snack bar

and buy a Dixie Cup
of Diet Pepsi for six bucks.

It all goes
to the student council.

Well, it-it sure goes
to somebody.

COREY (over tablet):
What's up, little guys? I'm Corey.

And today, I'm gonna
teach you how to navigate

the dark web
and undermine the deep state.

Stewie, it's 3:00.
Shouldn't you be napping?

Done with naps.
My eyes are wide open now, Bri,

- and they're never
closing again. - What's gotten into you?

I've been fed lies, Brian.

Vaccine-laced breast milk
and lies.

I recently watched
a video on YouTube...

- Oh, here we go.
- ...and it proved naps were just

invented by grown-ups
so that they can goof-off.

- What?
- And it doesn't stop there.

BabyTruther1776 explained
that my eyes

won't stay like this
when I cross them. See?

Slow down, Stewie.

Yes, there are some white lies
that parents tell their kids,

but that's because
it's for their own good.

Yeah, right.

That's probably what Britney
Spears' father tells her.

Dad, can I have some cereal?

There is no cereal.

Now, jam in that IUD
and go make me some money.

ANNOUNCER:
Family Guy: We're on Britney's side

now that it's popular.

(shoes squeaking)

Here we go, Meg, here we go!

- Are you recording this?
- I can't.

I dropped my phone
down a bleacher slat.

I hope I don't ruin
some teenage sexual encounter.

TEEN:
Ow. The finger I was about to use.

Me! Me! Pass it to me. I'm open.

(gasps)

Hey, Meg, if that pass was HPV,
you would've caught it.

(laughs)

Peter, knock it off.

No, no, trust me, Lois.
This works. Watch.

Hey, Meg, every game you play

is a game of "horse"
with that face.

(laughs)

(growls)

(shrieks)

(gasps)

(cheering)

Oh, boom goes the Babadook.

See you on SportsCenter Top Ten.

(to the SportsCenter jingle):
♪ Giggity. Giggity. ♪

- Whoa. Was that our Meg?
- Hey, Meg,

this is the closest you're
ever gonna get to hard wood.

(growls)

I can't believe I'm saying this,
but, Peter, you're right.

Your insults
are making Meg play better.

See? Told you.

Meg's pronouns
are "yick" and "uch."

Nice! Oh, this feels wrong,

but I don't know
if I've ever seen Meg succeed

at anything like this before.

Lord, forgive me.

Peter, Meg's nipples
are different sizes.

Get her.

PETER:
Wow, what a game!

(sighs) Unbelievable.

Just unbelievable!

It feels so good knowing
I gave birth to a star athlete.

Like... like really good.

- Is this happening?
- Is what happening?

First one to the bedroom
gets to be on the bottom.

Stewie, honey,
don't come upstairs for a bit.

The floor is lava again.

Wow, thank you, Lois.

(grunts)

♪ ♪

(grunts)

Rupert!

(gasps)

Another lie.

That's not deadly lava.

What? I didn't trip. You jumped.

Oh, suddenly the guy
who smokes two packs a day

wants to live forever.

(Lois and Peter laugh)

And now to confront
the deceivers.

Stewie, I don't think
you should go in there.

Stewie, no!

♪ ♪

(Lois and Peter laugh)

I'm David Hyde Pierce.

I'm two layers down,
but I'm in there.

In front of a startling
12% capacity crowd,

the Adam West High Name Pending

Open Administrative Hearing
October Fourths

find themselves
up big at the half.

Oh, suddenly "The Fighty
Whities" is offensive?

Take off the sweatshirt.

(whistle blows)

Hey, Meg, you play
like Kobe... beef.

Jiminy Christma-- (coughs)

- (weakly): What the hell?
- Uh-oh, Peter.

Maybe you'd better take a break
from yelling for a bit.

(hoarsely): Nah, it's fine.
Don't throw it to Griffin.

She su...

Oh, no, Peter lost his voice
at just the worst time.

- Butt scratcher!
- (raspy wheeze)

Butt scratcher here!
Verbal confirmation only!

(raspy wheeze)

Two for a dollar,
but only if you holler!

Butt scratcher!

(raspy wheeze)

Stewie? Buddy?

Haven't seen you in a while.

How you feeling after
the, uh, you know, incident?

I have no idea
to what you're referring.

You mean you don't remember?

(high-pitched):
Leave Stewie alone. He's a good boy.

Cute. But, come on, Stewie.
You want to talk about it?

Stewie's not here right now.

I'm Mrs. Padberry-Wilkerson.

(Southern accent):
And I'm Boone.

I'd be happy to talk
about seeing Pappy

all up in Mama's guts.

You know, sometimes
you just got to smash.

(high-pitched):
It's not polite to talk like that in front of Stewie.

He's just a wee child.

"In front of Stewie"?
You are Stewie.

(Southern accent):
Stewie's a tough sum'bitch. He can handle it.

Could what you saw
in Peter and Lois's bedroom

have been that traumatizing?

(as Kermit the Frog):
Kermit the Frog here to smooth over

some confusing images
with rainbows.

Stewie, I think
your psyche fractured

into multiple personalities.

(deep voice):
I don't have time for this. I got to go.

- Who are you?
- I'm the Jase-Man.

- I give purple nurples.
- CHRIS: Oh, hey, Stewie.

Why are you putting on
a San Jose Sharks hat

and pulling up my shirt?

Ow, my nipple!

Damn it, I hate the Jase-Man!

Well, he lost his voice,
Dr. Hartman.

He's just been screaming at
girls basketball games, and...

I'm gonna microwave
my lunch right now,

but I just want you to know
I'm totally listening.

Yeah, so, anyway, my husband
lost his voice, and...

Sorry, what do you think?
20 seconds? A minute?

It's half a calzone.

30 seconds, then check it.

- (buttons beep)
- (microwave whirring)

Are you gonna help us?
He's barely been able to speak.

He needs to rest his voice.

He absolutely must not talk
for at least a week.

If he tries to speak too soon,

he could damage his vocal cords
and lose his voice forever.

Oh, my God.

What is it?
Is he trying to say something?

No, he just wanted to show me
he drew a Garfield.

That's a very good
Garfield, Peter.

(microwave beeps)

Ugh, not even close.

All right, I'm checking to see
if WebMD can help us, Stewie.

Okay, here it is.
"Multiple personality disorder,

see also,
'Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.'"

(old-timey gangster accent):
Sounds like this Stewie mope is gonna have a heart attack.

Okay, it says here that
the first thing I need to do

is talk to
the dominant personality.

Is that Mrs. Padberry-Wilkerson?

(high-pitched):
One moment, I think you want Rick.

(normal voice):
Hi, I'm Rick.

Hey, Rick.

Ow! What the hell, Stewie?

It's Rick.
I'm just your average guy

who likes to beat up dogs 'cause
it makes me feel in control

when my wife and three daughters
emasculate me.

Ah! Ah! (grunts)

Stop! Wait! I want
Mrs. Padberry-Wilkerson back!

(high-pitched):
Sorry, Mrs. Padberry-Wilkerson is in the loo.

Ah! Bring back
that Southern guy.

(Southern accent):
Sorry, I'm busy watching

- Mrs. Padberry-Wilkerson
use the john. - Ah!

Can I talk to someone else?
Literally anyone?

(as Gilbert Gottfried):
I'm Gilbert Gottfried,

and I was fired by Aflac
for no reason.

Well, there-there
was some reason.

I can't believe
Peter's lost his voice.

How's he gonna insult Meg now?

Well, I don't know
if it's gonna work,

but he brought a whiteboard.

Meg's got the ball.

Peter, quick,
write something mean.

"You're doing to this game
what R. Kelly did to all tho..."

Yeah, no, no, I'm not saying
the rest of that.

(whistle blows)

(sighs) Peter, you're too slow.

Let me try to give her
the business.

Uh, Meg, honey,
you used to walk pigeon-toed

but got better
with the right shoes!

(buzzer sounds)

(crowd jeers)

Well, that'll do it

from the
Adam West High Gymnasium,

where the home team goes down
in a nine-seven slugfest.

We're so sorry, honey.

Yeah, but it turns out

our team is still advancing
to the championship game.

- Really?
- Yeah.

The other team was disqualified
from the league.

I guess one of them
was Gilbert Gottfried.

I have to do something.

Y'all mind if I record this

for teaching purposes
or whatever?

Sure.

Now, Mrs. Padberry-Wilkerson,

can you tell me about
Stewie's "problem"?

(high-pitched):
Well, it's not something a proper lady

is used to talking about,

but I believe
it was something he saw.

(Southern accent):
What's the big deal? It's just sex.

Mrs. Padberry-Winkie-Woo
is just a prude

who's never gotten
enough "vitamin D,"

if you know what I mean.

(high-pitched):
Excuse me.

I will have you know
I am a tigress in the bedroom.

- This is ridiculous.
- Shh.

I find the best thing to do
with multiple personalities

is to summon them all

and let them work out
they differences.

(Southern accent):
Oh, is that so, Miss Tigress?

(high-pitched):
Quite right.

(Southern accent):
How's about you hoist off them BVDs,

and I do you
on a front yard couch?

(high-pitched):
Why, Mr. Boone, you're terrible. Don't stop.

(Southern accent):
I ain't gonna.

- (moaning)
- Enough. Stewie.

You're losing it because
you haven't napped in days.

You're cranky. You're scared.

Listen, what you saw
in Peter and Lois's bedroom

is not what you think.

It was just... Lois looking
very closely at the sheets

so she could check
the thread count.

And Peter was just...
cheering her on from behind.

Really? That makes sense.

I like that. Phew.

Ah, I guess I really could
use a nap.

Sometimes you just have to trust
what your parents tell you.

- It's in your best interest.
- Yes, maybe you're right.

(high-pitched):
Determining thread count with the naked eye would take hours.

Your father walked out
after 30 seconds, apologizing.

(normal voice):
Shut your tea and cake hole, woman.

Let me roll with this lie.

And we've got a tie
heading into the final moments

of this championship game.

Ugh, Meg is really stinking
out there.

If only you still had
your voice, Peter.

COMMENTATOR:
Meg Griffin has the ball,

drives to the hoop,
and she's fouled by

Exasperated Mouthguard Mary.

(muffled):
Come on, that's a charge!

COMMENTATOR:
Meg Griffin will go to the line

with two chances to win
this game for Adam West High.

Come on, you can do this.

Everyone who's not looking at
their phone is counting on you.

COMMENTATOR:
Oh, a wide miss.

Come on, Meg.

This is for immortality
on the Applebee's wall,

right between the vintage
trumpet and the rusty stop sign.

♪ ♪

- Time-out.
- (whistle blows)

COMMENTATOR: And Meg Griffin
is going up into the stands.

Toddlers are roaming free
on the court.

Nothing seems to matter.

Dad, you have insulted me
every day of my entire life,

and now, the one moment
when I need it,

you've got nothing?

Well, guess what,
you tubby piece of crap.

I don't need you.

I'm gonna hit this shot without
your help, and when I do,

I'm gonna experience more glory

than you ever have in your
entire empty, pathetic life.

(weakly):
Shut up, Meg.

What did you say?

Shut up, Meg.

Peter, don't. You could lose
your voice forever.

I still can't hear you,

you sausage-fingered
human hernia.

You listen to your father.

From the bottom of my heart,

I wish we'd never had you.

- There's my dad.
- (whistle blows)

♪ ♪

COMMENTATOR:
And Meg Griffin wins it!

- (whoops)
- That's it for us at Adam West High.

You're now going to
hear us run away

because we're parked illegally
at the bank.

- (microphone feedback squeals)
- WOMAN: That year,

the team had its best season
in school history,

despite being stuck with
a Xanax-addicted head coach.

I'm Felicia Legette-Shepherd,

and I won this voice-over
in the divorce.

Come on, children.

Grab the dinner mints
off the check and let's go.

♪ ♪

Woof.

That was an historic season. Historic.

Excuse me.
I think my steak is overcooked.

This is Applebee's.
It definitely was overcooked.

ANNOUNCER:
Applebee's: Drink your blue drink and shut up.

Repair and Synchronization by
Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0