Family Guy S11E17 Script

Bigfat (2013)

It was awfully nice of our new neighbors to invite us over for dinner.

I don't know, Lois.

Going to Cleveland's house with someone else living there just seems weird.

Like when a new Pope moves into the Vatican.

Hi, I don't know who to complain to about this, but I'm still getting XVIII's mail.

Yeah, no.

No, he's not here anymore, this is XXIV.

Yeah, no, I don't need Newsweek.

No, I don't need National Geographic.

Oh yeah, no, yeah, we'll-we'll hang on to Boys' Life.

Hello, neighbors.

Joe, you can walk.

How do you do?

I'm Stan Smith.

Please, come in.

Oh, I'm so glad everyone could make it.

Stan, I need $50.

They're selling a biopsy of Celine Dion's uterus on eBay.

What the hell kind of dog is that?

I was going to ask the same thing.

Oh, uh, that's our alien, Roger.

He lives in our attic, but nobody can know.

And don't tell anybody about our attic.

(phone ringing)


Oh, hey, Quagmire.

Hey, you're not gonna believe this.

I'm over here with Joe, and he's got a space alien.

(all screaming)


Peter, wake up.

You're having a nightmare.


Oh, Lois.

Thank God, it was just a dream.


Lois, what's that fat man doing in our bed?

Ugh, damn it, I always wake up before I find out if they can understand the baby.

( King of the Hill theme song playing)

Thanks for helping me set up this jungle gym, guys.

Lois says Stewie's been getting a little chunky.

Ugh, everybody's always commenting on my weight.

This is why I almost died from anorexia.

(monitor beeping)

You... look... fat.

All right, I got the monkey bars all put together.

Aw, God, look at that, they already got Al Qaedas all over them.

Get, get out of here.


Man, they're gonna be so good at swinging bar-to-bar, when they invade.

Wow, Quagmire, how did you build that part so fast?

It was easy.

I just followed the instructions.

I couldn't find the English ones.

These are in Latin and those stuffy Ivy League professors won't help me.


Nullum gratuitum prandium, eh, Peter?

Oh, yeah?

Why don't you catch a football, you nerds?


No, I just read the back, where it's printed in French.

You speak French?

Sure, they love mein Fran.

(French accent): Oh, Quagmire! Shh. Quagmire!

Silence! C'est Quagmire.

(audience laughing)

Quagmire. Aw, Quagmire.

Oh, Quagmire, don't fall near ze mouse trap.

Yeah, and French also comes in handy when I have layovers in Montreal.

That place is the best.

I always wanted to go to Canada, but then South Park went, so we couldn't go.

Oh, man, you guys should come with me sometime.

Montreal has the best strip clubs in the world.

They do?

Yeah, they're unbelievable.

The girls up in Canada are gorgeous.

And they all play ice hockey, so they lose their teeth by age ten.


In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that a Canadian strip club is the most magical place in the world.

♪ Nip nip here, nip nip there

♪ And a bevy of porno stars

♪ There's jugand mugs of Molson beer ♪

♪ In Canadian nudie bars

♪ Dirty ho's put on shows

♪ And a lot of 'em don't have scars ♪

♪ In Canadian nudie bars

♪ You can touch and squeeze 'em ♪

♪ They don't even care

♪ Would they even dye their pubes ♪

♪ To match my hair?

♪ Uh-huh

♪ Color me there

♪ Like me, say "Oui-Oui"

♪ And tell them you're a friend of Bill Maher's ♪

♪ That's how you'll get to watch them pee ♪

♪ In Canadian nudie bars

♪ Ha, ha, ha

♪ Ho, ho, ho BOTH: ♪ Ha, ha, ha, ha

♪ Ha

♪ A guy can get his hockey pucked ♪

♪ In Canadian nudie bars.

That sounds incredible!

We got to go.

Yeah, will you take us, Quagmire?


All right, let's do it!

But I don't want to get any crap from your wives about me taking you to a strip joint.

So you guys are gonna have to lie about where we're going.

Okay, sure. Yeah, no problem.

I'm a great liar.

Okay, we're good this way.

Is it clear in your direction?


HOST: We now return to Stabbed in the Butt, the only game show where if you get the answer wrong, you get stabbed in the butt.

All right, Bradley, here's your question.

What is the atomic weight of nitrogen?

Get him, guys!

Stab him in the butt!

Okay, bye, you guys.

I'm leaving now.

Peter, tell me again why you're going to Montreal?

Hey, do I give you the third degree every time you go for one of those luxurious mammograms?

Dad, why can't we all go?

Because somebody's got to stay here and round up all these rattlesnakes.


(all screaming)


Hey, guys.

Check it out. What do you think?

Wow, a private plane?

How'd you swing that, Quagmire?

Well, let's just say I walked in on John Travolta with not Kelly Preston.

Oh, my God, this plane is awesome, Quagmire.

Hey, who's that?

Oh, that's J. Private Planington.

He invented private planes.

He was also the world's foremost squid hunter.

I've got a lot of big ideas, too, but everybody's just so jealous.

Boy, this is nice.

Hey, Joe, I'm gonna go check out the john.

Oh, my God, have you seen this?

Look how fancy this thing is.

They even got a special map that lets you choose who you wan to dump your poop on.

Geez, the synagogue button's almost worn out.

Oh, my God, Joe, there's a man on the wing.

Peter, there's no man on the wing.

There is! I saw him!

Peter, stop being ridiculous.

I'm telling you, lift up the shade.

There's a man on the wing.

(sighs) Fine.

It's me.

I'm the man on the wing.

Peter, how the hell did you get out there?

Are you crazy?!

Get back in here, Peter!

What the hell's going on back there?

We're losing altitude.

Hang on, you guys; I don't know if I can pull out of this-- giggity!

Wow, from up here, everything looks so huge and coming faster.

Uh, what happened?

Did we crash?

Yeah, we crashed.


Still, you know, we saved so much trouble not flying commercial, I think we came out ahead.


Drive right up to the plane. Exactly.

If we went to Logan, that plane wouldn't crash for another hour, at least.

Oh, they made pretty good time.

(sighs) I'm bored.

Peter, you made me crash the damn plane!

Okay, I know you're a pilot and everything, but not everyone likes to talk about planes as much as you, Quagmire.

Well, we're out of cell phone range and the radio's shot.

This is not good.

No one knows we're out here, and we've got no food or water.

Relax, Quagmire, there's food all around us.

The trick is just knowing what's safe to eat and what's not.

Okay, these are a "maybe."

You guys, I think, for the time being, we're gonna have to start thinking in terms of survival.

Yeah, we're just gonna have to do what Davy Crockett would do.

I mean, that guy killed a bear when he was only three.

Honey, don't you think it's weird that our three-year-old son is murdering animals?


He's a healthy, normal young boy.

Ma, Pa, I killed my pet raccoon.

Why, Davy?

So I could have this cool hat and 'cause it felt like heaven when I was doing it.

Well, it's getting dark.

We should probably start a fire.

Man, how do we do that?

Hey, do you think there's directions about starting fires in the song

"We Didn't Start the Fire"?

I don't think so.

I better go through it all.

♪ Stuff, stuff, stuff and stuff ♪

♪ History and stuff and stuff

♪ People, people, someone's name, history and sports ♪

♪ Big disaster, someone's name

♪ Stuff and stuff and stuff and stuff ♪

♪ History, someone's name

♪ Something I don't know

♪ Famous guy, movie star

♪ Don't know who these people are ♪

♪ Stuff and stuff and history

♪ Yelling really loud at me!

Okay, how's the fire coming?

(frogs croaking, owl hooting)

Okay, this should work.

If it rains, at least we know we can stay dry.


So, now our number one concern is that Predators are watching our body heat.

Peter, that's just a movie.

That's not real.

(distorted): No, I think we need to cover ourselves in mud to avoid being seen.

Peter, Joe's right.

That's only a movie.

Oh, God, somebody farted!

Ugh, it stinks!

We should not rule out the Predator having been the farter.

Okay, we still got nothing to eat, so it looks like we're gonna have to hunt animals for food.

And since we have no weapons, I set up some traps and snares.

Well, I was about to take a leak.

Can I go in that direction?


(screaming, cracking) No.

Ah, damn it, my legs!

I think they're broken!

Yay, Joe.

Now you have a friend.

Damn it, Peter, this is all your fault.

Listen, I wish you had a family to take care of you, too, but that's a choice you made.

Here you go, guys.

First time in a while I've had wood in my lap.

Are... are we supposed to laugh at that?

'Cause it's upsetting.

Man, being out here sucks.

I mean, I'm not a forest guy.

I-I'm more of a

"take-it-all-in- at-the-beach" guy.

(sighs contentedly)

Excuse me, sir.

This is private property. what are you doing?


Just taking it all in.

You're staring at my daughter's bedroom.

She's really grown into her body.

This is gonna be a fun summer for her.

You guys, we've been out here a couple days now, and I don't think anyone's coming to get us.

It might be time for one of us to go for help.

Well, what do you want us to do?

Peter's the only one who can walk.


You want me to just walk out there, straight into the woods?

Peter, if you don't, the only other option is we sit here and wait to die.

(sighs) All right, I'll do it.

If I just keep walking, I gotta hit civilization at some point, right?

Thanks, Peter.


And good luck.



Well, I hate to ask you this, Quagmire, but do you know how to change a diaper?

Yeah, of course I know how to change a diaper.

I saw Mr. Mom four times.

(air blowing)

(laughing): That's not how you dry a baby.

He has to do it 'cause his wife has the job.

But motherhood's a job.

M-Motherhood's a job, too, though.


What the hell?! Where'd you come from?!

Yeah, what are... what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?!

Middle of nowhere?!

No, I live right over there.

What?! A plane crashes in your backyard, and you don't say anything?!

This is Canada, eh?

I thought it might be rude to intrude on your plane crash.

Well, this is great news!

We're saved!

Yes, I suppose so.

Listen, why don't we head back to my place, grab a bite to eat and watch the big curling match on TV?

Canada is in the world final against Mexico.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!


(car horn plays "La Cucaracha")

Okay, well, we have to grab our friend Peter.

He just headed out that way to get help.

Oh. That's not good.

There's nothing in that direction but wilderness for thousands of kilometers.

What?! You're kidding.

Oh, crap. Peter!

Peter, come back! Peter!

(garbled, electronic): Peter! Peter!

I think he's gone.

I'm afraid he might not have survived, Mrs. Griffin.

We've been searching these woods for weeks.

We've got to keep looking.

He's got to be out there somewhere.

Oh, my God, we're in Canada.

I get to use my new passport.

I hope my picture looks okay.

That's Liam Hemsworth.

No, it's not. It's me.

It's just a really good angle.

God, just look for Peter. God.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Griffin, there's been no sign of your husband for two months.

We're gonna have to suspend our search.

But there's got to be something we can do!

Well, the odds were always against us.

Most black men don't possess the skills to survive out here in the wilderness.

My husband isn't black.

Oh, boy.

Well, then, we need to regroup because... we haven't been looking.

Wait! We may have a possible lead on Peter Griffin!

What?! Oh, my God, where is he?!

Well, we didn't find him, but we found this.

And there's some scribbling on the back that says, "Mrs. G."

We figured "G" has to stand for "Griffin."

No. That G isn't for "Griffin."

It's for "Garrett."

This is Mrs. Garrett from The Facts Of Life!

And Diff'rent Strokes.

Why does everyone forget that?

Kids, your father made this.

That's so weird.

Dad gets lost in the woods, and he makes a doll?

Eh, it's not that strange.

It's kind of what Tom Hanks did in Castaway.

(seagull screeching, waves crashing)

I'm sorry, Wilson!


Right here is where we found the doll.

Okay, everybody fan out and look for your father.

Peter! Peter!

Dad! Fat-ass!

(rustling in brush)

(gasps) Peter?!


Oh, thank God! We found you!

Are you okay?!

(grunting and whimpering)

What the hell?!

It looks like he's become some kind of feral beast.

Oh, my God!

(whimpering and muttering)

I can't live by society's rules, either.

(grunting and muttering)

Mom, I still don't get it.

How could Dad turn into some kind of feral creature just from two months in the wilderness?

Yeah, it's weird.

He doesn't even talk.

Well, he was living among wild animals for two months, and you know how impressionable your dad can be.


Peter, this is your home.


This is the couch where you sit.


Oh, yes, that's the television.

Kids, I think he recognizes the TV.

We're all thinking it, and he just does it.

(sighs) You guys, this is gonna be harder than we thought.

I guess we're all just gonna have to work together to reintroduce your father to civilized society.

Well, that's gonna be a challenge.

But it can't be any harder than folding that thousand-mile-long sheet.

All right, I got my corner. Everybody ready?

Ready. Chris?

Ready. Meg?

You know, long ago, before this happened, your father did make some videos in case he ever became feral.

I guess they're worth a shot.

Hello, feral Peter.

If you're listening to this, you've probably become feral, and you're probably thinking of a nice juicy rabbit right now.


But this isn't who you really are, Peter.

We got to get you back on track.

Isn't that right, buddy?

(grunting and muttering)

(gasps) Look, it's working!

Okay, good. So, feral Peter, why don't you put in tape number two and let's get started.

Don't listen to that Peter! That Peter is a liar!

Run! Be free! They will enslave you!

(grunting gibberish)

(grunts gibberish)

(grunting gibberish)

(grunting gibberish loudly)

(grunting gibberish)

All right, now, I've been trying to figure out something we can do together, and I think I've found it.

We're gonna sing a song.

Now, I'll start, and when I point to you, you'll sing your part. Ready?

♪ War! (grunts)

♪ Yeah! What is it good for? ♪

♪ Absolutely nothing!

Okay, all right, good job.

Now, let's try something else.

♪ I wanna get you home and ♪ ♪ Ugh

♪ Double up ♪ Ugh, ugh.

Okay, I like where this is going.

Let's take it from the top.

♪ I like big butts and I cannot lie... ♪

(crickets chirping)

(Peter mutters, thudding)

(Peter gibbering in distance)

(clattering and banging in distance)

Oh, damn it, he's in the garbage again!

Oh, my God!

Come on! Get out of the trash.

Who threw out my sequin top?

STEWIE: You're 43! Accept it!

(knocking on door)

Hey, Lois.

Oh, hi, Glenn.

We just thought we'd come by and see how Peter was doing.

Yeah, has he gotten any better?

I'm afraid not.

He's still only speaking gibberish.

Yeah, and we could live without the semen throwing, I'll tell you that.

I don't know what else to do.

We've tried everything to bring the old Peter back, but we can't break through to him.

Lois, I think you've done all you can.

Hard as it is to admit, it might be time to let Peter be where he belongs.

What do you mean, Brian?

We might have to release Peter back into the wild.

What?! We-we can't do that.

We'll never see him again!

Eh, enough time passes, you'll forget all about him.

Just like Inspector Gadget forgot about that one-night stand.

Suzanne, we have to talk.


Someone has made contact with me.

Someone from my past, and, well, long story short, go, go, Guatemalan son.

(speaking gibberish)

Peter, we all love you very much, but we think maybe this is where you belong and where you'll be happy.

This is barely even a forest.

I can see an Arby's through the trees.


You're free, Peter.

Whatever adventures lie ahead of you, know that my heart will always be with you.

Now, go! Go on! Get out of here!


I always knew, one day, this would happen.

We will never forget you, but you're better off here.

Why are we dragging this out? It's 6:30.

Go ahead, Peter. Go on!

Be with your own kind!

We're all gonna miss you, Dad!

More than you know!

(speaking gibberish)

What? My God, I...

I think he's trying to talk to you.

(gasps) Quick, Meg!

Say something else!

Well, okay, um...

I love you, Dad, and no matter where you are, you'll always be my father.

(speaking gibberish)

Shut... up...


(all gasp) I don't believe it!

Peter, you talked!

(garbled): Shut up, Meg.

Shut... up, Meg.

Shut up... Meg.

Shut up, Meg.

Peter! CHRIS: Dad!

BRIAN: You're back! MEG (flatly): Yay.


Your name is Jim.

Close enough, Peter!

Come on, you guys, let's go home!

(overlapping chatter)


(indistinct chatter and laughter)

STEWIE: Is she... is she letting him drive?

Boy, I sure am happy to be back.

Yeah, Peter, we thought we'd lost you for good.

And luckily, I don't know many words, so I was able to relearn them all in a day.

Don't ever leave us again, Dad.

Aw, sorry, Chris, but this weekend, Quagmire's taking me to a Canadian strip club.

He said he's put together a very special surprise, just for me.

MAN (French accent, over P.A.): Mesdames et monsieurs, all the way from America, please welcome Miss Charlotte Rae!

(applause and cheering)

Mrs. Garrett! Mrs. Garrett!

Girls, girls, girls!