(upbeat march plays)
♪ Good morning, USA! ♪
♪ I got a feeling that it's gonna be a wonderful day ♪
♪ The sun in the sky has a smile on his face ♪
♪ And he's shining a salute to the American race ♪
♪ Oh, boy, it's swell to say ♪
♪ Good... ♪ ♪ Good morning, USA ♪
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
Where the hell's my Red Dawn DVD?
I told Steve to alphabetize these.
Oh, honey, cut him a little slack.
He just started his first summer job.
Why don't I alphabetize them?
No! I asked Steve to do this.
And he did a half-ass job.
It may not seem important,
but he needs to learn to do everything with his full ass.
(door slams)
Steve, there you are.
I told you to alphabetize the DVDs.
And I can't find Red Dawn.
Dad, can I unwind for a minute?
I'm walking in from a hard day at work.
Hard day?
You work at a grocery store.
You know who actually works hard?
Machines.
Machines work non-stop for years.
I mean, take my watch.
Where's my watch?
You left it in the hotel room in Orlando last spring.
Wow. You can go a long time without needing a watch.
Dad, Red Dawn is right here.
It just got switched with Red Sonja.
No, I want you to re-alphabetize these.
Switching isn't alphabetizing.
What's the difference? They're all in order now.
What's the difference?!
You do things the right way, you have a good life.
You do things the wrong way, you end up riding the rails.
What?
Wh-What does that even mean?
It means do it the right way!
(groans)
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have a Father of the Year award to accept.
And the Pappy goes to...
(gasps) ...my man, Stan Smith.
Thank you, Alan Thicke.
This is amazing.
Honey!
I told you I'm using the garage for my award show!
Park on the street!
I am so sick of this crap, Alan!
You're ruining my thing!
(crying)
I'm sorry, it's over.
But it's not you.
You know that, right?
It's not you.
It's your body.
(crying)
Hey, knock that off!
I'm dumping this girl, and your sad music is making her cry.
Uh, I don't think it's the music, buddy.
I do. In fact, I'm surprised your crappy playing
hasn't driven everyone in this place to tears.
Oh, yeah? Well, why don't you come up here
if you think you can do better?
I don't even play guitar.
But you suck so hard, I bet I could
be better than you in a week.
Donald! It's okay.
Wait, if you don't play,
why are you wearing a Martin Guitar T-shirt?
That's 'cause I'm a hipster, dumbass.
We pretend to be stuff.
All right, Mr. Hip.
Meet me back here in a week, and let's see who's better.
Loser never shows his face in here again.
I'll do you one better.
The loser never comes back here even in a mask.
See you in a week, Mr. Hip.
See you in a week, um...
Jamal.
Your name's Jamal? But you're white.
So?
Is this really the first time you've had this conversation?
Come on, Jamal.
What do you think's going on?
Seems like everyone's getting called
into Bullock's office today.
(crying)
Uh-oh, I know that cry.
Either they're making budget cuts
or all our parents got in a car accident again.
Smith?
Sir, am I getting fired?
(laughing): I wouldn't say that.
I'd say "sacked."
Because that's more what Austin Powers would say.
I do a great Austin Powers impression.
(poor Austin Powers impression): You're sacked, baby!
But I've worked here 20 years.
You're just eliminating the position?
Oh, no, what you do is important.
I just found someone who will do it cheaper.
Meet Agent Gary.
Gary's a half-wit.
But he only costs half as much.
Gary, stop rubbing the stapler on your pants.
(sniffs)
So, that's it?
I'm out of a job just like that?
Yup, it's pretty crazy how life can change so quickly.
Here's another example of how life can change so quickly.
(laughing)
(thud, crashing)
(strumming guitar)
Ha-hey! Am I in time for a show?
No, I challenged some dick to a guitar duel.
Now get out of here, I need to practice.
Go play in your attic if you don't want an audience.
(groans) Stairs.
All right, how hard could this be?
The shape is pretty self-explanatory.
Roger, I-I thought you knew how to play the guitar.
I used to.
But you know the part of your brain that deals with music?
I took some PCP and just destroyed it.
Hey, why don't you order some DVDs
from that Latin guy with the infomercials?
Lorenzo!
That's genius, Hayley.
Wonder how come I never have any great ideas?
I mean, could it be the PCP?
Well, I don't know.
Let's find out!
Shoot, left my lighter in the attic.
(groans) Stairs.
You know, Mr. Smith, I'd like to give you the job.
And the way you opened an entire pack of Starbursts
with your tongue was really impressive.
But I just don't think you're qualified.
But I've worked for the CIA for the last 20 years.
Yes, I see you put that on your résumé.
But it's not on your permanent record.
"Permanent record"?
That's a real thing?
Well, if it wasn't, how would I know
that in fifth grade you tried
to get out of a math test by putting a slice of pizza
in your underwear and saying it was your period?
That's on there?!
All right, first of all, that never happened.
Second of all, it was a calzone.
I'm sorry, Mr. Smith.
But with a permanent record like this,
no one's going to hire you.
Oh, you know what it must be?
My CIA work isn't on there because it's classified.
Here, talk to my boss.
(line ringing)
Yeah, hi, this is Shaun
over at Buffalo Wild Wings corporate.
I-I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm sitting here
with a Stan Smith, who claims he worked for you.
He-he did?
(laughs) Oh, is that right?
Okay.
Eh, nice try, but that was clearly one of your friends.
He gave me the old "Now that I told you,
I'm gonna have to kill you" joke.
Hi, Stan.
You got to stop telling people, Stan.
So according to my permanent record,
the last job I had was in college sweeping up hair.
Working at a barbershop shows initiative.
Barbershop?
It was a White Castle.
I finished raking all the leaves.
Did you clean the gutters?
There was nothing in them.
Then get a ladder and go up
and stuff the leaves in the gutters.
Then clean the gutters. But that's...
They won't always be clean.
You need to be prepared for that day.
Full ass, son.
(sighs) Fine, I'll do it after work.
Wait, Steve, didn't you say
someone got fired at the grocery store?
Stan, maybe you could take that job.
Oh, no, no, no!
Uh, uh, Dad doesn't want that job.
It's-it's entry level.
Well, I got to start somewhere.
Yay, I don't have to get a job!
Hey, Steve, did you see that guy earlier buying condoms?
And now this lady's getting tampons.
This day is crazy.
I didn't know grocery stores were so sexy.
Have fun.
You know that chick has sex.
Dad, come on, we're working.
Hey, Steve.
Rick just quit.
So, how would you like to be the new assistant manager?
Would I?!
Sir, I've got so much more workforce experience than Steve.
Yeah, but Steve's been here a month.
So, Steve, here's your huge key ring.
Oh, boy, now I have access to the teeth-whitening kits
and all liquor over $40!
Well, congratulations, Steve.
Thanks, Dad.
Now go take the pieces of dead onion skin
out of the shopping baskets.
This totally blows.
I worked for the CIA for 20 years, you know.
(glass breaks)
SNIPER: You really got to put a sock in it, Stan!
(whistling)
I don't like your tune.
Now, when you're done with this,
I need you to go count the tomatoes.
Geez, why are you being so bossy?
'Cause I'm your boss.
Not if I quit.
Yeah? You think your permanent record looks bad now?
Think how it'll look if you quit your only job in 20 years.
(laughs) Quit.
In your dreams.
Steve, they just delivered the butter.
One of your new responsibilities
is to show the baggers how to stock it.
Yes, sir. I'm on it.
So, we're right behind the butter shelves.
Whoa! How long has this place been here?
Get your jaw off the floor and start stocking.
And don't let the butter sit on the ground too long
because the fridges put out some major heat.
Got it?
It won't fit.
You got to take it out of the crate, dummy.
Then you make it fit.
Lay the butter like bricks.
With the labels facing out.
Got it?
Yeah, I got it.
I earned a break.
I'll be napping in the blood pressure chair.
What's this?
Oh, sorry.
No, start over and do it right.
Oh, that poor, mentally-disabled man.
I'm not mentally disabled!
Well, you don't know how to stack butter, so...
Hey, your guitar DVD came.
What the hell are you talking about?
You're battling that guy in the coffee shop in two days.
Oh, my God, that's so important to me!
Quick, put it in the DVD player!
Just skip to the first lesson.
I don't have a lot of time to learn.
(strumming guitar)
Now it is your turn.
Start with the G chord, which you finger like this.
(groans) He's going too fast.
I'll pause.
I think I got it.
Ready? Yeah.
Now strum.
Aah! It's got me!
(grunting)
Well, I guess this is my hand now.
I hate working at that store!
Steve just bosses me around.
The only good thing is that the stock boys
are teaching me Spanish,
so that's pretty cállate gringo.
Dad, why on Earth did you make me
take all of our spare light bulbs out of their boxes?
Stan, is this just to get back at Steve
for bossing you around at the store?
Are you accusing me of being vindictive, Francine?
Because I will destroy you!
Besides, there's a reason
I'm making him do all these things.
Now take off your shoes and sweep up that glass.
Take off my shoes?!
Take 'em off.
Oh, you're in for it tomorrow, mister.
The regional manager's coming for our review
and I'm gonna be busting your ass all day.
I'll just call in sick.
I'll tell them you're faking.
And you'll get fired.
Then how will you support your woman?
How will you keep her glowing in such finery?
(sighs)
(strums badly)
LORENZO: That's right.
Now you're getting it!
No, I'm not, and there's no way I'll learn by tomorrow!
Not learning fast enough?
What the hell?
How are you...
(laughs evilly)
(plays dramatic chords)
I am Lorenzo.
AKA Old Scratch.
I can offer you a shortcut to guitar mastery,
but it comes at an ironic price.
Yeah, yeah, I'll pay any price.
You realize I'm the Devil and... and you're making
what is called a Faustian bargain, right?
Yeah, sure, sure, sure. Really?
'Cause you don't sound like you understand
the gravity of the ironic price.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. No, it's fine.
I mean, I really have to crush this punk at the coffee shop.
He's got this stupid little goatee...
Ah! Enough! Enough.
I'm sure your reasons are terrific
if you are willing to pay with your soul.
Wait, my soul?
My Kia Soul?
How am I supposed to get to my shift at Dairy Queen?
Stacey, it's Roger.
Hey, can you cover my 3:00 to 7:00 tonight?
Oh, my soul!
Never mind.
Hey, are you going to Jake's party?
Tom, I gotta say.
You hit a solid double here.
I'm just happy to get on base.
I make the baseball references...
Oh. My. God.
Holy moly.
Stan, what's going on?
There's butter melting all over the place!
Yeah, I, uh, I could only fit one crate on the shelf.
The rest is by the refrigeration exhaust.
Steve, you were supposed to show Stan
how to stock the butter!
Yeah, I sure could have used some supervision on that one.
Wh-What?
I-I showed you!
Clearly not well enough.
And I'm a sponge, I was waiting for it.
This is not good, Steve.
It's just lucky no one got hurt.
Joshua!
(screaming)
(screams)
I'm sorry, Steve, but I'm gonna have to let you go.
But... No buts.
Now let's have the apron.
(grunts)
It's always hard to see a young boy
tarnish his permanent record.
Hold on.
This'll be on his permanent record?
Uh, yeah.
He was assistant manager
and he didn't show you how to put the butter away.
That's something every employer
for the rest of his life is gonna want to know.
Yeah, if he can even find a job.
Oh, God!
What have I done?
(thunder crashes)
I showed him how to stock the butter
and he did it wrong on purpose.
He got me fired!
But he still has his job, right?
I can keep my finery?
You!
You have a lot of nerve showing your face here!
You're right to be mad, Steve.
And it's worse than you think.
I got you fired...
and now it's on your permanent record.
Good lord.
My future...
He's gonna be ridin' the rails, Stan!
(doorbell rings)
It's come to our attention!
That your son's run out of options.
The Army'll take him!
Get out of here, you damn vulture!
Thank you for your service.
Dad, what are we doing at your old office?
Well, the CIA was able to keep
my 20 years with them off my permanent record,
so they must have access to them.
Okay, but why'd you drag me along?
Well, I don't have my badge anymore,
so I need your help getting into the building.
And how am I supposed to do that?
Like this.
(grunting, groaning)
STEVE: Ow!
(lock clicking)
Okay, I just have to log in
and see how they access the permanent records.
Damn it, they already deleted my password!
Your password was one letter?
Yeah, it's, like, super easy to remember that way.
Well, I guess this was a dead end.
Or...
maybe we could go to the basement,
'cause that's where
the Permanent Record Department is.
BULLOCK (recording): This is Deputy Director Bullock
reminding you that secrets are meant to be kept.
Now, back to the elevator music.
(singing): ♪ Friday night it was late ♪
♪ I was walking you home ♪
♪ We got down to the gate ♪
♪ And I was dreaming of the night... ♪
It's a permanent record!
"Martin McGowan pretended to pick up his dog's poop,
but just grabbed at the air and kept walking."
Wow.
They are on top of stuff.
Come on, let's find yours.
Here it is.
"Fired from grocery store for incompetent management."
Don't worry, we'll fix that.
"And it was totally not Steve's fault."
There.
Now, to spice it up.
"Steve Smith lost his virginity
"after a romantic candlelight dinner on the beach.
"He suggested taking things slow, "but she was voracious,
"with an unquenchable sex-thirst.
And he did a good job."
Solid.
Now, let's get outta here. GUARD: Freeze!
Sir, we were just trying to repair Steve's permanent record.
He shouldn't be burdened
for the rest of his life for something I did.
Well, that's the system.
And when I send this downstairs,
you'll be a virgin again, Master Smith.
You're in charge of the permanent records?
I play many roles here.
I also design the company softball shirts.
It came to me in a dream.
Daddy, the bombs came.
It's C-4, Gary, and I am not your father.
What about the detonators?
They came, too.
I put them in the bombs so Gary wouldn't lose them.
Did you set the timer on these?!
Uh-huh, Gary making oatmeal.
Almost ready. (ticking)
Good God, you're gonna blow up this office!
We've got to get this C-4 out of here!
Uh-oh!
Steve, throw me more bricks.
It's just like the butter!
Oh, yeah!
Go, Dad!
(explosion, glass shattering)
Yay!
Oatmeal time!
Gary, you're fired!
Stan, you got your job back.
Thank you for saving our lives, Smith.
Well, actually, you should be thanking Steve.
I was only able to stack the C-4 so fast
because Steve was so hard on me at the grocery store.
Oh. Well-well, I just did that
because you were such a jerk to me at home.
I'm not trying to be a jerk, Steve.
I'm trying to save you from a life of ridin' the rails.
Dad, that's just an expression.
Tell that to Tony Lura.
He half-assed it all summer on the grill at White Castle.
A lot of people got really sick, actually.
Then he just disappeared.
Last anyone saw of him,
he was hoppin' the Union Pacific Line
with all of his possessions in a sock.
Oh.
Well, thanks for looking out for me, Dad.
I sure wouldn't want to end up like Tony Lura.
No, you wouldn't, son.
And, son, that's why
you don't want to end up like Stan Smith,
the White Castle employee who did everything right.
'Cause what did it get him?
A government job fighting for so-called freedom
from the confines of a cubicle.
Well, this is my cubicle!
(train horn blares)
And this is real freedom!
You understand, son?
Yep.
The world is our oyster!
(acoustic guitar playing)
(applause) They're clapping 'cause it's over.
(playing "Classical Gas")
♪ ♪
You get the drift, I win.
(applause, cheering)
Listen, buddy, you clearly won, but I really need this gig.
I tell you what... you seem like a nice guy.
What if I let you keep playing here
and you just cover the price of my lessons?
That'd be amazing!
Then it's a deal.
(screaming)
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com