All language subtitles for Family Guy 16x12 - Send in Stewie, Please

? 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! ?

- Synced and corrected by AlexandreMT -
- www.addic7ed.com -

Send in Stewie, please.

Oh, I can go in now?

Oh, fantastic. He's ready. Marvelous.

Thank you, Barbara.

I hope you get those Adele tickets.

You deserve them.

She won't get them. No way.

She needed to get them,
like, a month ago.

So, um, is that me over there?

- If you like.
- Here we go.

I saw the kid who has cancer leave.

That must've been fun.

I don't know why his parents are
still bringing him to school.

It's uncomfortable for everyone.

I've never seen him
when he's not just thrown up.

Charming. This is charming.

It reminds me of the therapist's
office Bethenny Frankel goes to

on The Real Housewives of New York City.

I hate her.

She looks like a wooden doll you'd find

in an Eastern European toy shop.

Oh, don't act
like you don't know who she is.

Please, that doesn't impress me.

We live in the world.

We all know who Bethenny Frankel is,

whether we like it or not.

You know, I actually don't mind her.

And she's built quite a business
for herself.

You have to hand it to her.

I don't mean to name-drop,
but I kind of know Andy Cohen.

I guess I'm his type.

Which, of course, is very flattering.

He's outrageously successful.

He originally wanted me
for The Rachel Zoe Project,

but I said no, so they went with Brad.

And now look... that could've
been me on Fashion Police

with Melissa Rivers 14 times a year.

Ah, well, hindsight.

I see the tissue box is empty.

Somebody was going through those like...

well, tissues.

Mm, I hope he didn't get cancer
all over this seat.

Ugh. Yuck.

Bad luck.

Although I did hear
Ryan Reynolds visited him.

Something to do with Deadpool, I guess.

So it's not all horrible.

If they don't give us a day off
when he dies,

I'm gonna be so pissed.

Oh, look, you got
your Dunkin' Donuts coffee.

I don't know why those cups
always depress me.

It's-it's like you've already given up

before the day's even started.

You might as well tattoo
"Can't afford Starbucks"

on your forehead.

What do I care, though?

None of my business.

I haven't heard of any
of the schools you went to,

but I'm sure they were great.

I mean, you're here, right?

And why are you here, Stewie?

Uh, that was lame.

You seem to have
a lot of strong opinions.

I do. Mostly because
I come across a lot of dicks.

Or I guess I should say "wankers."

We do like that word, hmm?

Or "tosser," "git," "prat,"

"sod," "chuffer."

Take your pick, eh, Dr. Pritchfield?

- "We"?
- Yes, "we."

I'm not following.

- The accent.
- The accent?

You speak with a British accent.

Yes, I'm aware.

Well, I've often been told
that I have a British accent.

Oh?

That's-that's all you're going to say?
"Oh"?

What is it you'd like me to say, Stewie?

That I have a British accent.

I apologize, but I can't hear it.

You mean to tell me
you don't hear me speaking

- with a British accent right now?
- No.

That's odd, because everybody else does.

Have you spent much time
in Britain, then?

No, I haven't.

- Excuse me?
- I said no!

But you're the absolute only
person who hasn't noticed it.

Really? Everyone hears this?

Well, just the people
who can understand me,

which you appear to be one of.

But that's too complicated to go into.

I'm not even sure I get it.

The point is,
Stewie has a British accent.

That's, like, a known thing.

Ask anyone.

I'm afraid I don't hear it.

Yeah, you've said.

It sounds like it's very important

what other people think of you.

Oh, is-is that what it sounds like?

To me, it does, yes.

To you it does. I see, I see.

So after five minutes, you think
you know me, is that it?

A little, perhaps.

I am trained, Stewie, to observe things

that give me an insight.

And, yes, I do feel I know you a bit.

You do feel you know me a bit.
Mm-hmm. Okay.

All right, all right.
Well, that's-that's fair.

Might I?

I'm not sure how this is going to help.

Indulge me.

Thank you.

I see you're on vacation
in Rio de Janeiro in this photo

with your partner, I'm guessing.

Or is he your husband?

Yes, probably wanted
to make it official, didn't you?

Never thought you'd see it
in your lifetime.

Blah, blah, blah, blah.

At a quick glance,
I'd say there's roughly

a 26-year age difference
between the two of you.

Not quite large enough to raise eyebrows

while still giving you
a younger mind to shape.

"Oh, you mean you haven't seen
All About Eve,

Gypsy, Valley of the Dolls?" Et cetera.

And a younger body
to make you feel more virile.

Taking into consideration the math,

he was probably born at a time

when the most popular name was...

Michael.

From the dog-eared pages
of that volume of Shakespeare,

I imagine you wooed Michael with
a sonnet or monologue each day.

And no one had ever done
anything so romantic

as reciting Shakespeare
for Michael before.

And he was smitten.

While not as physically attracted to you

as you are to him, that's okay...

You each bring something
important to the relationship.

Isn't that what you believe,
Dr. Pritchfield?

I see a prescription

for heart medication on that table.

My guess is you keep that at the office.

You don't want to worry Michael,
you say to yourself,

even though the truth is
it embarrasses you.

Your age, your mortality.

Best to keep appearing
as vital as possible.

And no need to have reminders at home

of what's just around
the corner, is there?

And your office is your haven,

since Michael doesn't work
and is often at home,

perhaps as a result
of a low-level depression

that you don't really want
to get into with him.

Oh, he always planned to have a career,

but he could never settle
on exactly what it was

he wanted to do.

And at first
you liked having him at home

to take care of the house
and plan trips.

So that's just what happened.

"And that's a job, too,"
he reminds you over the years.

Michael likes to travel,
and he prefers the finer things.

And you'd like to give them
to him, wouldn't you?

But it's a bit difficult
on a child psychologist's salary

at a Rhode Island preschool,
I'd imagine.

Fortunately, you don't have children,

so you do have some disposable income.

Oh, you have talked about it
with other couples,

just for show, probably at dinner

with younger friends of Michael's

who are starting a family,

you know,
to be part of the conversation,

to feel included.

But you said you preferred your trips

and your rescue dog
named after a character

most likely from Dickens.

Ah, how accomplished and affluent

you both look in this photo.

Just the image Michael
is so desperate to project.

Let's look a little closer, shall we?

Now, I see you're both wearing
Ralph Lauren Purple Label

dress shirts
that retail starting at $495.

But from the disfigured
button holes on one

and the small discoloration
on the other,

I can see you bought them
at the outlet in Providence.

Probably third markdown,

in which case, $49, give or take.

Since you also have light jackets on,

I can see that you went there
during summer vacation,

which is, in fact, winter in Rio,

outside of the high tourist season.

And I see that you're
on the rooftop pool deck

at the Fasano Hotel in Ipanema,

the most exclusive hotel
in all of Brazil.

Michael would've been dying
to stay there.

Had a friend that went
with his older boyfriend,

who makes a lot of money
in, most likely, banking,

much to your chagrin.

But even in August,
it's almost $1,000 a night.

You tell him people are starving
in the streets in Brazil.

How do you justify paying those prices?

When the truth is,
you simply can't afford it.

It's for another class of gay people.

The window that Michael

is always desperately peering through

and sadly on the other side of.

But you do your best.

You don't go on Airbnb,
because you don't trust it,

even though Michael has stories
of friends

who have found the most fabulous places.

You like a hotel.

Besides, it's more romantic,
you tell him.

But when you take him to the
place you're actually staying,

the one you found on TripAdvisor
that was rated number 27

of all the hotels in Rio

and was having a special rate
of 295 U.S. dollars a night...

Which is still not cheap,
you remind him,

most people never get to visit
half the places he's seen,

you tell him... you can't help
but feel like a bit of a failure

as you see the look
of disappointment on his face

as he enters the room.

So you decide to go to the Fasano Hotel

for dinner and drinks. No, just drinks,

once you've seen
the restaurant prices online.

And once there, you can see
how Michael begins looking

at all the older men who can afford

to take their boyfriends...
I'm sorry, husbands...

To such luxurious hotels.

And you worry a little,
that you're diminishing

in his eyes with each passing year.

But you tell yourself
you're being ridiculous,

as you see Michael
glancing about the rooftop deck,

looking at all the young men,

men that would be 20 years
younger than even Michael,

men that you're invisible to.

But he isn't yet, not completely,

and you're jealous
and you loathe yourself for it.

But Michael wants a photo,

and he says, "Let's take a selfie."

But you say, "Let's ask someone
to take one of us"

and make some tired joke about
selfies that only you laugh at,

wishing that you could take it
out of the air

as soon as you've said it,
as it's just one more indicator

that you're older than everybody here.

So Michael calls over a young
man wearing a tiny swimsuit

to take the photo and makes a
crude joke that embarrasses you.

But the young man laughs,

and he and Michael share a
moment that you're not part of.

And you feel humiliated and unseen.

Which explains Michael's joyful grin

and your slightly disconnected
half-smile.

And you've posted the photo on Facebook,

and Michael's posted it to
his 86 followers on Instagram...

You don't know how that one works...

To at least give the impression,

in your Ralph Lauren shirts,

holding your $20 cocktails,

that you're both way more
successful than you are.

But it makes you feel a little dirty,

the lengths you have to go to
in order to keep Michael happy.

And every time you glance
at this picture,

you wonder,
"How long before he leaves me?"

See? I guess we both know
each other a bit.

You seem like a very lonely little boy.

Oh, my God, I am!

I'm so lonely!

Oh!

You can see inside my soul!

Oh, God!

Thank you.

Thank you, Barbara.

Are you all right now, Stewie?

Yes, I think.

You're very kind.

She's a gem, that one, you know.

I hope you appreciate her.

Try taking some deep breaths.

I do this sometimes in yoga.

I take yoga.

I have a sick body.

I do... I do feel a bit better.

But still lonely.

I'm sorry. It keeps spilling out.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

It seems like you're keeping
a lot bottled up inside.

I am. Nobody here likes me,
Dr. Pritchfield.

I try to fit in with the other boys

and talk about things
like dirt and shapes,

but they won't play with me.

And I-I don't have any friends,

and I have nobody to eat lunch with.

It's very interesting you'd say
that you have no friends,

Stewie, especially considering
the reason you're here.

Oh. That.

Shall we talk about it?

I don't know
what there is to talk about.

You pushed a classmate down the stairs.

It was an accident.
Haven't you ever seen Showgirls?

Yes, of course I have.
But according to Tyler,

it was no accident.

Well, I guess it's my word
against his, then.

It is creating
a bit of a con-trah-versy.

- Excuse me?
- A con-trah-versy.

- I don't know what that is.
- Con-trah-versy?

"Con-trah-versy"?

Oh! Oh, "con-troversy."

Apologies.
Those of us with British accents

pronounce it "con-trah-versy."

But how would you know that?

Yeah, how would I know that?

Look, Dr. Pritchfield...

"Cee-cil," if I may?

It's pronounced "Cess-il."

- Damn it!
- But, again, how would you know?

- It's not as if you're...
- Okay, okay, we got it.

I only pushed Tyler down
the stairs because I like him

and I'm afraid he won't like me back.

And-and not like him-like him.
I'm not gay.

This whole thing isn't because
I'm gay, so-so calm down.

I can already see you
lickin' your chops.

I'm sure you live
for the coming out sessions.

If anything,
I'm less gay than I used to be.

Not that anybody
at this school would care.

But do I think that
Grant Gustin and I would make

the most adorable Instagram couple?

Yes. Yes, we would.

Grant Gustin plays the Flash on
the CW, if you were wondering.

Because, you know, most people over 70

probably don't know who he is.

Think young Anthony Perkins.

Ah. Oh.

There we go.

Anyway, "fluid" is something I hear

being tossed around a lot now.

But I'm confident in my heterosexuality.

- That's a word, right?
- Yes, of course.

Okay, just sounded strange for a second.

It must be difficult for you,
Stewie, being so intelligent.

It is.

Whew! Just that...

just that acknowledgment.

You know, sometimes
I don't know where I fit in.

I just... I just want
to be like everybody else,

but nobody's interested in the
things that I'm interested in.

They think I'm weird.

And I'm so anxious all the time,

but I... I always put on
a brave face and try to hide it,

and I... I give myself
these excruciating migraines.

I actually have way more hair than this,

but I pull it out.

I'm sorry, now I'm getting
all worked up again.

I'm worse than Bethenny Frankel
on her period.

I don't why I keep bringing her up.

I j... it's just I think
about her a lot.

Well, what are the things
you're interested in, Stewie?

Me? Well, I like to talk
about world domination.

Some people don't think
I talk about it enough anymore,

but mind your own beeswax
is what I say to them.

I also like to talk about musicals.

It's hard to find someone
who can converse

on one of those topics, let alone both.

And I really, really,
really want to see Hamilton,

but by the time
it gets here, I'll be 30.

I think I'm still the only one
in town who's even

heard of it, and it's been out
for over two years.

Which just makes me even more depressed.

How do you live in a place like that?

Quahog. What a pile of garbage.

And I've even memorized
some of the songs,

but I have no one to sing
it for, and I'm really good.

- Do you want to hear it?
- Oh. Um...

Y-You mean now?

I really... I really need you
to hear me sing Hamilton.

I'm so good. Why can't I be on Broadway?

I want to be on Broadway.

I want the world to fall in love
with me eight times a week.

I'd love to hear you sing.

Okay, okay, now I'm nervous.

If it's not good this time, just
remember it was good at home.

Don't look at me while I start.

It's hard.

It's a lot of words very fast.

Like Gilbert and Sullivan,
but for Hispanics.

? How does a bastard orphan ?

? Son of a whore ?

? And a Scotsman dropped in the middle ?

? Of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean ?

? By providence impoverished
in squalor grow up to be ?

? A hero and a scholar? ?

? The ten dollar Founding Father
without a father ?

? Got a lot farther
by working a lot harder ?

? By being a lot smarter ?

? By being a self-starter ?

? By 14, they placed him
in charge of a trading charter ?

? And every day while slaves
were being slaughtered ?

? And carted away across the waves ?

? He struggled and kept his guard up ?

? Inside, he was longing
for something to be a part of ?

? The brother was ready to beg, steal ?

? Borrow or barter ?

? Then a hurricane came
and devastation reigned ?

? Our man saw his future drip ?

? Dripping down the drain,
put a pencil to his temple ?

? Connected it to his brain ?

? And he wrote his first refrain ?

? A testament to his pain... ?

? Well, the word got around ?

? And they said,
"This kid is insane, man" ?

? Took up a collection just
to send him to the mainland ?

? Get your education ?

? Don't forget from whence you came ?

? And the world's gonna know your name ?

? What's your name, man? ?

? Alexander Hamilton ?

? My name is Alexander Hamilton ?

? And there's a million things
I haven't done ?

? But just you wait, just you wait. ?

That's all I've learned so far.

Well done!

You're a very special
little boy, Stewie.

I saw you check your watch.

That was a bit emotional
for you, wasn't it?

But it felt good. Like-like,
I got so much out, you know?

- Would you like a cup of tea?
- I would love a cup of tea.

It's hot already?

Yes, it's an electric kettle.

We don't have that at our house.

My mother boils water
in an old Jiffy Pop tin.

She's just a useless old slut.

Hey, my hiccups are gone!

If you liked Tyler and you
wanted to be friends with him,

then why did you
push him down the stairs?

Oh. I... I don't know.

Can I tell you a story
about another little boy?

Um, okay.

When I was your age, I grew up in London

- when the Blitz had just ended.
- Good God, how old are you?

Our neighborhood was reduced to rubble.

And in the chaos, I searched
desperately for my parents.

Mum. Mum.

Mother. Mother.

Mum. Mummy.

Mummy. Mummy. Mummy.

Mummy. Mum. Mother.

- Don't.
- Don't what?

You know what.

But Mother was nowhere to be found.

And neither was Father.

You see, I was
the sole survivor of my family.

So I was sent to live
with an aunt in Cornwall.

But she had too many mouths
of her own to feed, so...

I was next sent to a distant
cousin in Northumberland.

But she didn't care for children,

and off again I went,

this time to an orphanage
in Gloucestershire.

But they didn't like little boys

from London in Gloucestershire.

Or from Cornwall or Northumberland.

So I pretended I was from
Shropshire, of all places.

And eventually,
I became friends with six boys:

Sebastian, Declan, Flibbit, Pipadoodle,

Scudger and Nonsenseword.

And together, we traveled...

Okay, before you say
another name of anything,

I'm going to have to stop you.

- Yes?
- I'm only here for 40 minutes,

and this is already a really long story

with a lot of locations.

And I don't feel like waiting to
see how it links up to my thing.

The point of the story is,

I know what it's like to feel alone

and to have to pretend that
you're something you're not.

Oh, and also, how my first kiss
was with a Nazi.

See? We didn't need
to go back 1,000 years for that.

And I don't pretend
I'm something I'm not.

- I never said that.
- You just said it.

I might have implied it.

I suppose the question is why
you feel the need to do that.

I... I don't know.

I-I guess I hadn't realized it before.

Maybe I'm worried
nobody's going to like me.

Lois left a tissue in the dryer again.

And these are my only pants.
How sad is that?

When I was in the orphanage,
my Sunday shoes were potatoes.

Well, you win that one.

Look, I'm different, Dr. Pritchfield.

I'm not like the other kids.

I realized that
when you picked up that photo

and decimated my entire life.

Sorry. It's kind of
a parlor trick of mine.

Have you ever thought
of just being yourself...

Your real self...
And then see what happens?

I... I don't think I know how.

Everything about me is this
carefully-constructed persona

designed to keep people at arm's length.

This isn't even how I really talk.

This is. This is how I talk.

The accent is-is nothing more
than an affectation,

a-a coat of armor
to get me through the day,

just an image I cultivated
so I could feel special.

Wow. What a relief.

For once, to talk with my real voice

without the... the burden

of trying to sound like someone I'm not.

- What do you mean by that?
- Well, this is my real voice.

I don't hear a difference.

How about now? You freakin' hear that?

What about now?
Sound different? Giggity?

What about now?

Coming up now, this voice.

Ahoy. It's me.

And I'm a gay alien.

I'm sorry. That just all sounds
like the same person.

Well, Stewie, that was quite
a breakthrough we just had.

How do you feel?

I feel... relieved,

like a weight has been lifted.

I-I can finally be myself.

I like this Stewie.

I hope he stays for a while.

I-I've never been vulnerable
to anyone before.

You're the only one
who's ever met the real me.

Well, I'm honored, and now,

the rest of the world is going
to meet him.

Yes. Yes, that's right.

There's no going back now!

I'm gonna talk to Tyler.
I'm gonna make friends.

I'm gonna be a normal boy!

Yes, you are.

You're finally going
to be just like everybody else.

Wha-what? Say-say that again.

You're finally going
to be just like everybody else.

But... But I don't...

I don't want to be like everybody else.

What do you mean?

I-I don't want to be like them.

Like any other zero in this
miserable town, like my family.

I won't do it! I don't want
to be like any other person!

Like you skiing in...

Please don't pick up that photo.

I want to remain
what I've always been...

Superior, brilliant, special.

Oh, God, what was I thinking?!

I'm never going to lift the veil, ever.

Nobody will ever know the real me.

My accent's back, by the way.

It was a very dramatic moment.

If you say so.

Now, let's talk about...

Stewie, can you hand me
my heart medication, please?

Of course!

Except...

there's one person
that does know the real me,

and that's you.

I don't understand.

Why aren't you getting my medication?

Mm, yeah.

Listen, you're not gonna like this.

Please, there's not much time.

I'd like to, really I would,
and you were super helpful,

and this... this kind of seems
like a crummy way to repay you,

but... I'm not going to get it.

Is this because I made you wait?

It's because I can't have anyone
know the real me.

And so, you must die.

I guess that's what happens
in therapy, though.

No, it's not!

Ah, you're right.
That didn't make much sense.

Not to sound ghoulish,

but any indication how much
longer you're going to linger?

I'm not sure.

I think it's different for everyone.

Yeah, because you're still
pretty chatty, is...

is why I'm wondering.

Don't do this, Stewie!

It will stay with you forever.

Mm, yeah, not worried.
For me, this is kind of no bigs.

Barbara! Barbara!

Oh, didn't you hear her go to lunch?

It was like an orchestra
of squeaky chair springs

and groaning floorboards
playing her out.

So... this is how you leave me.

Sowwy.

"Eyes, look your last!

"Arms, take your last embrace.

"And lips, O, you,

"the doors of breath,
seal with a righteous kiss,

a dateless bargain to engrossing death!"

Macbeth?

Romeo and Juliet.

But I wouldn't expect you to know,

since you're not in any way...

British.

I feel less bad.

You've reached the office
of Dr. Cecil Pritchfield.

Please leave a mess-age.

That one can't be right.

It's Michael. I want a divorce.

This is not your day.

Hey, you okay?

Yes, Rupert just had
a nightmare, that's all.

Go sleep on the floor
where you belong, whore!

- All right, well...
- Hey... hey, Bri?

Yeah?

Would you mind maybe
sleeping with me tonight?

- Sure.
- Thanks.

Good night, Stewie.

'Night, Brian.

- Brian?
- Yeah?

I did something awful.

Do you want to talk about it?

No.

- Synced and corrected by AlexandreMT -
- www.addic7ed.com -