Family Guy S17E12 Script

Bri, Robot (2019)

♪ 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 afternoon, I'm Tom Tucker.

Coming up, we interview a man who went a whole Hawaiian vacation without giving a "hang loose" sign in a picture, and also didn't do the "lei" joke.

You won't believe this incredible story.

Oh, wait, he's a Japanese man? Doesn't speak English.

So... so he just didn't know.

Happy birthday, Brian.

We bought you a cake with the groceries, so it got smashed with a jug of Tide in the car.

Open your presents. Yeah.

You got one from Rami Malek, star of Mr. Robot!

Wow, he gave me the dark circles around his eyes.

Aw, cool! Did he also include his dead-soul monotone?

No, I don't... Oh, oh, wait, hang on.

I didn't see it at first because it was under some tissue paper.

Now open mine. Minions 3?

Yeah. In this one, Gru has been replaced by Harvey Weinstein.

Oh, you like working for bad guys?

I'll show you a bad guy. Now you touch it.

You know what to touch.


Well, thanks, everyone.

What's wrong? You seem a little down.

Nothing, it's just that...

I don't know, my-my birthday is just... it's kind of a reminder that I'm now one year closer to death, with nothing to show for my time here.

Can I get a Minion cake for my next birthday?

We'll see, Peter. Like, a real one.

Like-like, not you makin' it.

Someday I'll be gone, and it'll be like I was never here at all.

Aw, he is depressed.

Sad little guy.

Let's not project people emotions onto animals.

I just want my story to live on, even after I'm gone.

You know, I always did want to write my autobiography.

Yeah, it's hard to work when you get distracted whenever someone says, "What's that?" What's what?!

You know what? Maybe I can lend a hand, Brian.

I'll help you write your biography.

Really? You-you'd do that?

Yes. After all, I helped Cleveland with his wardrobe.

Hey, Cleveland, you know I love you, but those jeans, they ain't for you.

I knew it. I think I just needed to hear it.

Thank you, Peter's baby.

Uh-uh. Copy that.

We now return to Allison Janney in Hello, Sexy.

And, uh, to your left, you'll see a joke about Allison Janney being very, very tall.

Uh, she has an Oscar, and we have a great deal of respect for her.

You know, I had a terrific... Uhp.

No, sorry. You go. Okay.

I found a lump on my scrotum this morning.

You done? Yeah?

I had a terrific sandwich, uh, yesterday.

Boy, they are doing a lot with mayo these days.

I have no doctor.


You know that UPS lady with the super-bruised legs?

Well, one time...

What... Uh, what's going on?

Quagmire, are you okay?

Where's he going?

Looks like Quagmire... I think he...

Boy, you and me today, huh?

He's, like, hypnotized. Do we wake him?

That could be perilous.


I was happy to see that new massage parlor.

But deep down, I was disappointed that we took a shot at Allison Janney, just because she can dunk a basketball.

I mean, she has an Oscar, and we have a great deal of respect for her.

All right, Brian, time to get to work on your biography.

Let's start with an interview.

Who would you say is your hero?

Well, I guess maybe Martin Luther King.

Okay, maybe someone you see every day.

Uh, well, I guess Peter is...

No, no, no. Li-Like somebody younger.

Li-Like younger than you, even.

Like that... Like that kind of hero.

Well, I guess Meg and Chris.

Let's take Meg and Chris as a given.

Anyone else you maybe look up to?

I guess Lois... We did say younger, did we not?

Well, uh, I guess that leaves... you.

Oh, boy, embarrassing. That backfired, didn't it?

So, I should put me, then?

Yes, fine.

Now, another important part of any book: the dedication.

It's not uncommon for an author to dedicate his book to his hero, who you have listed as...

Oh, no, this is...

Oh, this is embarrassing.


We already did this. I got some free time.





Hey, guys, sorry I'm late. It's about time.

Thanks to you, we got leap-frogged by Seamus' foursome.

Ha. Golf club hands.

Hey, could one of you spot me the greens fees?

I blew all my money at the massage parlor.

Sheesh, you're sure spending a lot of money at that place.

How much you pay one of them masseuses?

Eh, 200 bucks.

200 bucks?! That's what I paid for Reading Railroad!

What kinda medical benefits do those masseuses get?

I think they see the Chinese vet down the street.

Well, that's all the information I need to make a binding vocational choice.

Guys, I'm gonna become a professional massage therapist.

What?! Are you serious, Peter?

You bet. I could always use some extra cash.

Plus, I've handled bigger challenges before.

You know, I was once in the Blue Man Group.

Peter, what's wrong with your paint?

Remember when I asked for a five-minute break?

Hey, Stewie, which title do you like for the biography, Barking Up the Right Tree... Did you catch that?

Or, Are You There, Dog? It's Me, Brian?

Oh, about that, I was meaning to tell you, your biography is finished.

Already? Wow. Print me up a copy!

Done, Brian. Look behind you.

Whoa, ass ahoy.

Classic. Stewie, this isn't a book.

Brian, it's 2019. We're living in a post-book, Post Raisin Bran society.

So enjoy your new robot, and enjoy a bowl of Post Raisin Bran.

Post Raisin Bran: like Kellogg's, but worse!

Stewie, what about my biography?

This robot is a living record of you and your history.

It knows you and your mannerisms, and it will exist long after you're gone.

Brian, in every sense of the term, Robot Brian is your biography.

This is how you'll be remembered, forever.

Whoa, ass ahoy.

He says that a lot.

He's also got an interchangeable memory bank, an expandable encyclopedia database, and, as a bonus, the new U2 album.

Oh. I don't want the new U2 album.

You don't get a choice.

So this is a robot version of me?

Not just a robot "version," Brian, it's like another you, uploaded with your genetic code, your cognitive patterns, and your entire life story.

"Oh, no, Stewie's time machine broke, and now we are stuck in the history past."

Well, that is one of my catchphrases.

I don't talk that robotically, though.

That'll go away. He will evolve as he gathers more and more data.

"Fire hydrants, images." "Fire hydrants, news."

"Fire hydrants, near me."

Now what's he doing? Oh, he's also been uploaded with your Internet search history.

"Yahoo Answers: Is Anton Yelchin's jeep for sale?"

Ooh, shame on you, Brian.

It's legitimate memorabilia!

"Applebee's, Brittany, Quahog."

"Brittany, Applebee's waitress, blonde."

"Quahog, Applebee's, Brittany, who is."

"Blonde waitress, Brittany, Quahog, Applebee's."

"Brittany Babbit, home address."

Oh, good, you found it.

Peter? What are you doing here?

I work here now.

You what? Why would they hire you?

I don't know that they did. Nobody ever picks me, though.

Just Bruce. And his towel keeps falling off, and he keeps saying, "Oops."

I dunno, the towels here are very fally-offy.

Dammit. Good-bye, Peter.

Where you goin'? Home.

I can't come here anymore, you've made it weird.

You have one that looks like snowboarder Chloe Kim?

She turned 18, so I can say that out loud now.

Robot Brian, it's so great that you're here.

I need a partner for a project I've been working on.

But, sir, Dogbook was our idea.

It was stolen by Bark Zuckerbark.

And who are you again?

We're the Barklevoss twins. And... scene.

So, what do you think?

I think it's great. I have no notes.

It's called The Barkial Network.

How come you didn't call it Barkbook?

I thought you said you didn't have any notes.

I got you dropped from jury duty.

Oh, great. What line did you use?

"I have read about this exact case... "

That's good. "... on hotsy-totsy Nazi dot com."

That's not good.

Hey, can robots do cocaine? What?

Nothing, I was just, you know.

Can they get cocaine?

Hello, The Girls Aren't the Girls in the Ad Massage.

Oh, yes, the girls are absolutely the girls in the ad.

Freeze! Police!

What's going on? You're all under arrest.

Arrest? For what? This place is a brothel.

What does that mean? Your coworkers are engaged in the world's oldest profession.

Lead singer of The Pretenders?

No, Peter. All these women are prostitutes.

Cuff them, cop with a wife who's taller than him.

Uh, my name's Gary.

I'm sorry, I'm bad with names, but I'm good at remembering gigantic wives.

So, what was Brittany Babbit like?

Oh, you know, at Applebee's, she's all like, "Hi, may I take your order?" and at her bedroom window, she's all like, "Ah, get out of here.

How'd you find my apartment?"

Tale of two Brittanys, huh?

Yeah, I mean, if you don't want me showing up at your house, don't put a smiley face on my receipt.

Uh, Your Honor, the defense rests.

See, you get it.

Have you read my book yet?

I'm downloading it right now.

It's beautiful.

Mm... Mm...

Yeah, this is, this is fine.

This isn't, this isn't weird.

I'm a robot you. Mm.

Post Raisin Bran.

Proud sponsor of whatever the hell's going on here.

Good morning, Brian. Hey.

So, anything unusual happen with Robot Brian last night?

Anything you'd like to share?

N-No. W-Why, why do you ask?

Well, as it happens, your robot has a rear panel sensor.

Every time it's triggered, I get a text, like a Google Alert.

I... This is ridiculous.

I don't even know what you're talking about.

Mm-hmm. You know he backs up his hard drive every night, right?

Though I guess you were also backing up his hard drive last night, eh?

Wiping that history?

Ah, what else? What other computer terms...

What, the... oh, getting some RAM?

A few megabytes?

Logging in and logging out... wow, there's a lot of computer things that sound dirty.

Okay, I admit it. I'm not made of stone.

I fell for me.

I know it seems strange, but I'm gonna give it a chance.

And don't worry, we're not gonna be one of those cutesy couples.

Morning, RB. "RB?"

Yeah, it stands for "Real Brian".

Morning, RB. "Robot Brian."

Well, much like every other "RBs," you are making me sick.

Hey, did you get the license plate of that handsome guy who ran me over last night?

Ha, ha, clever.

So is there anything we need to talk about?

I don't know. Is there anything we need to talk about?

I guess not. Well, I guess not, too.

Thanks, RB. Back at you, RB.

We just click together.

Like all the pieces in Chris's first model set.

Okay, lay out the pieces, find the cockpit, open the glue, take a sniff...

... and this will be my life now.

Joe, you got to help me.

My picture's in the paper and everything.



Well, everybody knew that Bob Iger thing, but you got to help me, Joe.

No way. You should've thought of that before you committed a victimless crime between consenting adults in a commercial arrangement which also created jobs and contributed tax dollars to the community.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go watch Bob Iger drain threes at the local gym.

We've got to think of something to make Joe drop the charges.

I don't know, he seemed pretty insistent.

Trust me, Joe can be pretty easily influenced.

♪ I get knocked down... ♪ Oh, no!

♪ But I get up again ♪ Yeah!

♪ You're never gonna keep me down ♪ Good!

♪ I get knocked down ♪ Oh, no!

♪ But I get up again ♪ Yeah!

♪ You're never gonna keep me... ♪



Sounds like that water's pretty refreshing, huh?

Excuse me? No, nothing, you just made a weird noise after you took that sip of water.

RB, that's the sound you make when you take a sip of water.

What? No way, that's so annoying.

I'd-I'd kill myself if I sounded like that.

Brian, don't forget, I'm you.

Everything I do, I literally got from you.

Well, not that.

I think I know how to take a sip of water without sounding like a rock concert drum solo.

Go ahead. Show me.

Hmm? Mm-mm.



Joe's police rounds bring him down this street.

So the plan is, we trick him into coming in and getting an erotic massage.

Then we blackmail him into dropping Peter's charges.

Right. And if someone makes a joke about my weight, I laugh good-naturedly and then go home and eat my feelings.

O-Okay. That-that's part of the plan you keep on the inside.

Yeah. Next to the pizza you had for breakfast.

Here comes Joe. Places.

♪ La, la, la, la, unsuspecting song... ♪ Huh. "Miracle Leg Massage. Walk Again, Joe."

I don't know. What's the name of this place, anyway?

"Flip Joke Massage Parlor."

Well, tempted as I may be, there is no way I'm going in there for a massage.

Ma'am, I assume you're giving me a great message, but that's where it stops.

I'll be a monkey's uncle before I accept a sexual favor.

And that's the story of how your mother... my sister... got into college.

Oh, Barnaby Bananas.

You're certainly my smartest nephew, but Harvard is only for humans.

No monkey will ever graduate from there.

Barnaby Bananas.

I tell you, Janine, I sure feel dumb for what I said earlier.

Congratulations, Janine. Also, Joe, we got pictures of you getting a sexual favor a while back, so now you got to drop the charges.

This'll never stick, Peter.

I know a top-notch Harvard-trained lawyer.

An M.A. in urban planning?

That's no help. All right, Peter, you win.

Really? Yup, I'm gonna drop all the charges.

And now maybe you could drop a few LBs, huh?

What?! What?

I do not laugh like that.

Again, Brian, I'm you.

I can't do it unless you've already done it.

You can't do it unless I've already done it?

What is this, Bark to the Future?

Oh, my God, I do do that.

Hey, Brian, I think I put in a good day of writing.

Check out what I did.

This is a blank screen. Exactly.

I spent all day working on the margins.

The margins? Oh, yeah, you got to get the margins right.

They frame the page.

They're like the corral, and the words are my wild horses.

It's my job to break those word horses and ride them off into the green pastures of prose and poetry.

Stop! It's just so pretentious.

Well, they're your words.

No way. I would never say that.

Words are my wild horses.

It's my job to break those word horses and ride them off into the green pastures of prose and poetry.

Sir, all I said was your Discover card was declined.

Turn it off, turn it off!

God, I'm such a jerk.

I hate you!

Which means... I hate me.

What did you just say?

I said I hate me. I hate myself.

You've made me realize I hate myself.

What the...

Well done, Brian, well done.

Stewie? What are you doing? What the hell happened to RB?

RB served his purpose. Which was what?

To show you that the last thing you need is a detailed account of who you are and what you do. Excuse me?

Brian, you wanted to write your autobiography.

And I needed to show you that no one wants to read your autobiography, not even you.

Because... Because your best is middling, your worst is intolerable, and when you die, the most you'll want written about you is "He Was a Good Boy" on your tombstone.

And even that will be a complete lie.


I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie.

We now return to The Talking Talking Dead, the show that talks about the show that talks about The Walking Dead.

Okay, so what do we think about what they thought about stuff?

It was awesome. Oh, my God, it was so great how they thought that other show was so great.

Yeah, totally. And that one part of the show where the guy was talking about that one part of the other show and how he didn't see that coming?

I did not see that coming.

This is just too much to process.

I need an aftershow after this aftershow, just to know what I just saw about what I just saw about what I just saw.

Well done, Chris. Thank you.

And Brian, you certainly had yourself an adventure.

I sure did.

Hey, whatever happened to Robot Brian anyway?

He moved down to the marina.

I hear he's doing pretty well.

It's been like this all morning.

I'm actually starting to get a little worried, you know?

It's not a bionic robot.

It can break.

What's that swoosh?

He's got a mouth sensor, too.

And remember, Brian, he wouldn't do anything you wouldn't do.

He's you.

It's rather musical, isn't it?

Sounds like the "Carol of the Bells."

Uhp, I'm getting a call.

Oh, no, it's Allison Janney. Decline, decline.

I tell you, Lois, being a masseuse is a tough job.

But it all just goes to show that basically every licensed massage therapist in this country is a prostitute.

Oh, yeah. You can pretty much do whatever you want with any masseuse ever, because they're all prostitutes.

And it's not just the masseuses.

If you're ever seeing, like, a physical therapist, or doing yoga with a private instructor?

Just go for it.

There's, like, an 80% chance you'll get there.

But Peter, there's, there's one thing I still don't get.

Why did you take the massage job in the first place?

For you, Lois. I did it to earn enough money to buy a comb for your beautiful hair.

Oh, Peter, didn't you know?

I sold my beautiful hair to buy you a bottle of massage oil.

Great. So now I'm an unemployed masseuse with a bald wife.

Merry [BLEEP] Christmas.