"Life of Brian": What Seth MacFarlane Should've Done

My tribute to Brian Griffin, my favorite character on Family Guy. We'll miss you buddy.

Inspired loosely "Hold On To What You Believe" by Mumford & Sons

Brian stood on Quahog Pier. His fur was shaggy, his legs shaky. The world seemed to implode. A gun in his left hand, a pill in his right, the water straight ahead. His life had been nothing but misery. Stewie was in grade school, Chris and Meg heading off the college. Peter was entering his fifties, Lois her late forties. Their lives moved on. Brian's just stood at the edge of Quahog Pier.

He turned, walked away and throwing his gun and pill off the side, watching it sink in the sand.

As he crossed the road, a 1997 Taurus station wagon was approaching. Brian noticed that a tire was loose, he heard the insufferable squeaking, and eventual unscrewing. Still he crossed the street anyway.

The headlights. The honking of a horn. Brian turned and stood shell shocked, unmoving, unwavering. The driver slammed the breaks, which screamed bloody murder. The car stopped three inches from Brian's torso. A pause. One of those awkward moments where you don't know what to say or do, expect stare. Brian did this. Stare. The driver got out of the car. He was a middle aged man with a kindly disposition, a face that told the world that he was an honest fellow, one who would give you money if you asked, food if you needed it, a Good Samaritan.

"You best be more careful there Mr. Griffin." The man said. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind." Brian said, "How do you know my name anyway?" He asked, giving the driver a puzzled look. The man smiled, "Why, I've known you Brian, since you were born. I worked at the puppy mill, I was the only nice bastard in the place." Brian's memory jogged, he was trying to remember him. Of what he could gather, there was only one human being who was nice to him there, the owner of the mill, a woman by the name of Mrs. Julian Godfrey was in every sense of the word, evil. Brian shuttered, the memories, the childhood he never really had. Sure the Peter gave him that, all the things that one could ever ask for, but Brian never really had parents to say to him that it was okay, tell him about the world. He just had to figure things out on his own. "I'm sorry," Brian said, "I don't remember you."

"That's alright Brian," the man said with a disappointed sigh, the kind that a child gives to a parent, vice versa. "I just wanted you to know, that you were loved by somebody and that you're never alone, that's all." He got back in car, backed up a bit, and drove down the street. Brian watched as the car disappeared from view. He smiled, wagged his tail, and walked home.

Entering the house, Brian saw Stewie, watching television. "Hey champ, what are you watching?" He asked, very playfully. "The History Channel." Stewie asked. Brian rolled his eyes and sighed. "No," he said grabbing the remote, "I'm not letting you watch that liberal garbage."

"But Brian, you're liberal." Stewie remarked. "Yeah, so what?" Brian said. "Well, isn't that a bit contradicting?" Stewie replied. "Yes but, it's not the same thing. I just don't want you believing in aliens, and extraterrestrials, and, and whatever the hell the doomsday crap is." Brian said. "It's not history, it's ratings. If you want to learn real history go to the library."

"The library is extinct Brian." Stewie said.

"What? No it's not, it's downtown." Brian answered.

"No, it's not, I destroyed it." Stewie smiled, that devilish smile that he had back in season one, episode one, and only had for that episode but better drawn and more sinister looking.

Brian looked at him, eyes wide in disbelief, but then again, not in too much disbelief because this was nothing compared to the time machine, or the arsenal of weapons, or Ernie the Chicken.

Ernie the Chicken actually works for Stewie. He's paid to beat Peter up. It all started when Seth MacFarlane didn't make a "Road to Italy" episode, making every single "Godfather" reference possible. Instead "Road to Europe" happened. Anyway, Stewie made a brief stop to Italy and in sixteen seconds became the Don of the most powerful mob family in history. The details aren't important. When they got back to America, Stewie recruited Ernie to be the 'big guns' of his operation to take over the world. He signed a contract stating that every time he sees Peter, he must beat him up violently and try to kill him. Ernie, who already hated Peter anyway (the coupons, those damned coupons) agreed to the job. Stewie now discontinues the 'take over the world' thing because he saw it as too big of a job for him to handle.

"You destroyed the library?" Brian asked. Stewie nodded. "They didn't have the book I wanted."

"What book was it?"

"Pride and Prejudice." Stewie answered. Brian sighed and shook his head. "You destroyed a library because they were out of Pride and Prejudice?"

"They said they would hold it and they didn't Bri! They just didn't have the book. I've been wanting to read that book ever since I was-" he started to ramble and complain on and on about how smart he was and how egotistical and how it was all part of a plan and blah, blah, blah. Personally Brian zoned out, no longer caring about Stewie's rants, and looked towards the television. On the entertainment center, staring him right in the face was Pride and Prejudice. Brian rolled his eyes, walked over very nonchalantly, grabbed the book and walked back over to Stewie. Brian swayed back and forth like Daffy Duck, on his heels with a large grin that spanned the width of his face. Stewie turned and noticed this.

"Brian, why are you smiling and swaying like-"

Brian hit him with the book, hard and repeatedly. "Does this look familiar to you!" He said with an evil sort of laugh. "Where's my money man?" Stewie started to crawl to the safety of behind the couch. Brian followed. Stewie quickly pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Brian has lost it, repeat Brian has lost it. Request immediate assistance." Brian pulled him a little and lifted him up. He looked as if he were about to skin the poor kid alive but he just smiled and said. "Were there any copies of Oliver Twist in there?"

"What?" Stewie asked. "Oliver Twist," Brian answered, "the book I despise with a burning passion." Stewie thought for a moment. "Yes actually." Brain closed his eyes and nodded once, "That's my boy." He sat Stewie down and turned the television back on. It was once again, The History Channel, but it was the real History Channel which was basically from whenever the heck it started to about 2005. It was a documentary on canned food. For some reason, Stewie had an engaged interest in this and was glued to the television. Brian smiled and Stewie got closer and closer to the screen. "Don't burn your eyes out." Brian said as he walked into the kitchen. Stewie didn't answer.

Chris was at the table, he was home from college for Thanksgiving break. He was eating a banana, something that he never did. Brian looked over, "You sick or something?" He asked. "Who, me?" Chris asked. Brian sighed, "No the clown behind you." Chris turned and low and behold there was a clown sitting behind Chris, and he was indeed sick. "Yo, Bosko," Brian said, "you sick or something?" Bosko nodded. "Yeah," he blew his horn nose, "thanks for asking." Brian nodded and turned to Chris, "So, how's life with you?"

"Why are you talking to me?" Chris asked. "I can't talk to you anymore?" Brian said. "No," Chris answered, "it's just, you never did it before and I just assumed that you never wanted to is all." Brian sighed, "Look, I know we're not much on speaking terms, and I'm sorry about that but you know, maybe now that you're older we can talk more. I maybe only have a good few years left."

"Well according to Seth MacFarlane you have about thirty more seconds." Chris answered. Brian looked up and flipped off the ceiling. "Gee, thanks Dad." Just then Peter walked into the room, drunk as usual. "HeyguysI'mgoingoutI'mgonnabeawhile." He said, slurring his words together. Brian and Chris said nothing and let Peter walk out.

"So," Brian said, "like I was saying." Screeeech. Silence. "Help, I, I've fallen and I can't get up!" Peter said.

"Life Alert!" Stewie called. Moaning and groaning in extreme pain. Brian and Chris quickly exited the room, rushing outside the house.

Peter was hit by a car. A 1997 Ford Taurus station wagon driven by a middle aged man with a kindly disposition, a face that told the world that he was an honest fellow, one who would give you money if you asked, food if you needed it, a Good Samaritan. The man exited the car and looked at Peter who's arm was twisted, back broken, teeth gone in several places. Blood all across his face, head throbbing, eyes swollen, and a sharp pain in his chest. The man kneeled down and whispered to him soothing words. Brian quickly rushed over, his eyes watering and his face showing no other emotion, than extreme sadness. "Peter, I'm, I'm so sorry. Is there anything, anything I can do for you?" He asked. Peter nodded, "Stay away from Lois." He said.

The hospital room was bleak. Lois was trying not to cry, Meg was too busy texting her friends to care, Chris was shocked, Stewie was trying to keep his mind off things by humming, and Brian was sleeping by the door. The door opened up, Doctor Hartman entered the room. The family stood up and Brain patiently listened, fake sleeping. "I'm sorry," Hartman said. "I'm afraid the injuries are too great to save him, he only has moments left. I am deeply sorry." He walked away, as he entered the hallway he sat down on the floor, like a neglected toy would, and cried.

The Griffins entered, rushing towards the bed. "Oh my God, Peter," Lois said, "I, you can't leave us now."

"Dad," Chris said, "we were going to go to the Super Bowl together." Peter nodded with a smile, "Yes sir. The Patriots and The Broncos. Screw that bastard Tom Brady, I gave the best damn halftime show in history." Meg looked at her father, "Dad, you were going to teach me how to make up a business plan and help me apply for an internship. Who's going to do that now?" She asked. "Shut up Meg," Peter said, looking at her in the same face he always gave her. He watched Meg hung her head, Peter's eyes lit up, "but keep smiling." He said before turning to Stewie, "I'm sorry I'm not going to be there to see you grow up, but I'm glad I got to see you today. You're going to be a man someday, and you're going to have a future. Unlike these bozos over here." He pointed to Chris and Meg. He looked at all of them, each in the eye, with a smile on his face. "I'm glad I got to be a father, I'm glad I got to you know people. You guys saved me, from all the trouble I ever got into, you guys got me out of it, you guys saved me. Go and live your lives, go and make something of yourself, because it's true what the hipsters say, you only live once." He paused and started to sing rather weakly. "Oh well a bird, bird, bird is the word. Oh well a bird, bird, bird, yeah a bird, is the word. Hey don't you know about the bird yeah everybody knows that the bird is the word a well a bird." He smiled and sighed. The Griffins, from Chris to Brian and back started singing. "A ba pa oo ma mow ba pa oo ma ma mow, oo ma ma mow, ba pa oo ma ma mow mow a well a bird. Surfin bird!" At the end of the verse, the beep, the straight line, the silence. The heartbreaking silence...

Brian spoke last at the funeral, he gave the eulogy. He pulled out his piece of paper, and watched the world around him grow silent. The birds that were usually singing were mute, the wind was waiting in anticipation, the entire town of Quahog, every single citizen, was in attendance. "What can there be said about Peter Griffin?" He paused and looked around before he continued, "He was an idiot, but the best damn idiot in the world." Tears ran down his face, he started to choke up a bit, "He was a friend to us all, rather we realized or not, he was a friend. And even though he was a drunken fool, he was the drunken fool we needed." He paused, giving him time to compose himself. "He was everything you could ever ask for in a person. A loving husband, a father, a friend. I know it sounds crazy, maybe even blasphemous, but he was those things to me too. I know I'm just a dog and labeled as pet, but Peter never treated me like one. He took me in and raised me, I owe him everything. It should be me in that box. I shouldn't be here, according to the script that MacFarlane wrote at least. We even had meetings about it. We all knew it was coming. A death, we just didn't know who. Now we do, and there's nothing we can do about it." He folded up his piece of paper. "The world, this city, has just lost a person who would be, who is, among the greats." He looked up at the sky, "So long Peter." He placed his paw on the casket, and for the first time in his life prayed that there would be resolve. "I honestly don't know what I'm doing right now and to be honest I don't care. Whoever you are, just listen." Brian began, "Please don't leave these people, this family without a father. I can't always be there for them. Please, don't have it end like this." The casket was lowered. Roses were thrown, the family and friends left, not bothering to take a car.

Brian stood alone as the rain began to fall on the newly disturbed earth. He lay down in front of the grave like he would if he were home, sleeping on a bed. He cried his eyes out, whimpered, and slept there for three days.

Six months later...

Brian stood on Quahog Pier. His fur was shaggy, his legs shaky. The world seemed to implode. A gun in his left hand, a pill in his right, the water straight ahead.