Chapter 4: Untitled

A few brief bars of the Family Guy theme sound as we see the house. It is starting to get dark.

Stewie tinkers with some various Frankensteined items.

"You see Rupert, this ordinary pair of useless television rabbit ears, when modified, can act as a telecommunication transmitter.

With the use of the 1200 volts – what's that you say? Not enough power to affect the weather? Well, my cotton stuffed chap, it's enough to send it broadcasting to satellite dishes in the surrounding neighborhood.

And that signal it shall send will a set of instructions to send a feedback command through the orbiting satellite's transmitting beam, telling it to reposition and alter it's frequency and power outage.

When redirected – are you paying attention Rupert? I saw you nodding off! Just because you don't have eyelids, doesn't mean I don't see; you fool no one.

As I was saying, when redirected, it will pass through the clouds. One beam to cool it and another to heat it and cause moisture. Thus causing rain! And when that walking womb takes me wit her shopping, I shall tug on the steering wheel causing the car to hydroplane and crash, thus ending the wretched witches life."

He looks at Rupert.

"How shall I survive you ask? It's rather simple really. You se, I have adjusted my baby seat to act as an ejector seat and Elmo here will soften my impact," he squeezes the doll. It sounds: "Ha! Ha! Ha! He, he. It tickles!"

"Yes, I know I already tried this once. If the broccoli dies as a result this time, it will be an added bonus.

How dare you question me! It could just as easily be you than Elmo.

While they are all caught up attending to our native-American guest, I shall be busy implementing my plan."

"Stewie, diner time honey!" Lois calls from downstairs.

"Hummm, really? I thought it was time for you to shut the hell up!"

Lois sets the kitchen table. Big Thinker enters the kitchen and seats himself.

"Oh, hey Big Thinker. You're a little early; I'm still setting the table."

"Miss Griffin, would you like any assistance?"

"Any what? Oh, thank you. You could help put the utensils out. Forks and napkins on the left, knives spoon and scalping hatchets go on the right."

He does not laugh.

"So, how do you like my home?" she tries to change the conversation.

"It is most impressive. I hope to one day have a house like this. Maybe even your-"

"Stewie! Don't make me come up there!" she calls out.

"Don't make me come down there!"

Brian presses the doorbell at Quagmire's house. A xylophone rendition of the song "I'm Too Sexy" plays.

Quagmire gets up from eating some fast food and goes to the door.

The door swings open. Quagmire stands there in a silky red casual robe. He looks out.

"Yeah?"

"Down here."

"Heh, heh, sorry. Hey there … ah … ah…"

"Brian."

"Hey there Brian. How's Peter?"

"He's fine. He's entertaining an Indian exchange student."

"Indian? He didn't happen to bring a sister. Pocahontas, all right," he thrusts his pelvis.

"No."

"Oh well," starts to close the door.

Brian puts his foot in the door.

"Heh, hey Brian, I can't close the door with your foot there."

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?" asks Glenn.

"The alcohol!" he pushes his way in.

"I don't have any."

"Don't lie to me, I'm an alcoholically depraved dog with nothing to lose. Remember … I can smell fear…"

"I had to get rid of it, they caught me drunk while flying a 747. Damn things crash all the time with sober people anyway…"

"If you're lying, so help me, I'll tell Lois about the shrine."

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about….." he shifts his eyes left the right.

"Oh, you know. I have a something similar myself. Now get me the booze!"

"I swear, I don't got anymore."

"Did you ever see the 1st Beethoven movie?"

"Yeah…" he replies uneasily.

"Remember that part in the end where the small dog runs up to the villain and bites his crotch? I auditioned for that part … and nearly got it," he growls.

"All right, all right! I got some emergency chick relaxer in the bar," he flips a switch and a half-circle bar spins out of the wall. He reaches under and pulls a bottle out and hands it to Brian, "ah, there may or may not be something in there, so if you hallucinate and pass out….."

"Is this all you got?"

"There won't be anymore until Tuesday," he watches Brian walk to the front door and says, "hey! How am I going to get chicks to like me!"

Brian opens the door and turns around briefly to say, "Try using wit and charm," and closes it.

"Well, what about the REST of the night!"

He goes back to his fast food. "Darnit, where's the knife?"

Chris stands in Meg's room with his arms out as he talks.

"And the monkey, which used to be the evil money, came over and hugged my leg, smiled and went back into the closet."

"God, not the stupid evil monkey again. How'd you get into my room anyway? I thought I locked it."

"I picked it. Now I don't know what to do!"

"Listen – there's no freakin' monkey in your closet. There are moths in your head though."

"There are!" he tilts his head and starts hitting his top ear, "stop laying eggs in my brain!"

"You tell them. Now go away."

"But what about the monkey?"

"Chris, if we go over to your closet right now and don't find a monkey, will you finally stop believing in it?"

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"He's not here, Wednesday's his day at the gym."

Meg rolls her eyes, "Ow, oh convenient."

"What do I do when he comes back?"

She pushes him out of her room; his feet scraping off the carpet, "I don't know, make peace with it," and slams it shut.

Chris walks by Stewie's room.

"Hey Stewie-"

"DON'T LOOK AT ME!" he points and commands.

Stewie runs out and to the stairs. He stops, gives a menacing look and goes down.

Stewie stops at his diner booster seat. He eyes Lois evilly and commands concisely, "Up," and lifts his arms in anticipation.

"There you are sweetie," she seats him.

"How about a little less non-chalant banter and more food you bit-" he sniffs the air, "is that left over mash potatoes? Oh, your death shall be a joyous one a woman."

"Kids," she yells as she sets down a pot of food in the middle of the table, "diners ready!"

"Greetings Stewie Griffin, I am Big Thinker of the Mezzojaha tribe."

"Hum, yes, you must be that Indian chap from the cultural exchange program. Circle the wagons and all. I say, do us a favor and scalp the woman."

"Here," Brian hands Lois a plate.

"Thank you Brian for cutting the cheese for me."

"It was no problem … relived a little tension even."

Chris walks into the kitchen.

"Oh, cheese!"

"No, not yet. We're still waiting for your father to join us."

Chris turns to Brian and says weirdly, "I wear the cheese; it does not wear me."

"Yes, well, how prophetic. Gosh, I'd like to not be sober right now."

"Perhaps you'd like me to take you to some cigar-fume infested dump, full of rednecks named "Jeb" and "Steve", drinking warm Budweiser. Hummm, yes, that's what you'd like – "Jeb"," Stewie annunciates, "and "Steve", hum?"

"You tell me – I don't go to gay bars."

"Oh, oh – isn't that very clever. It was especially hilarious the first hundred times! Here, you deserve a treat … laced with strychnine!"

Meg comes in.

"Hey sweetie, you're just in time – when your father gets down, we're going to say grace," she scoops out mash potatoes into the family's plates.

"Mom, don't call me sweetie!" she sits next to Big Thinker, "what she really meant was 'sex vixen'."

"Do not be ashamed of your family's love," he replies.

"I say, Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, - that saved a wretch like me … what, don't you like it?" he says to Brian.

Brian eyes him suspiciously.

"How about: Show me the way to go home. Bom bom bom – I'm tired and I wanna go to bed. I had a little DRINK – drink I say – about an hour ago and it's gone straight to me head."

"You'll pay."

"You'll go through withdraw!"

"Where is dad anyway?" asks Meg.

Lois finishes dishing out the food, "I don't know, I thought-"

Suddenly, Peter walks in. He is adorned in brown, tasseled pants; moccasins; a hat with a bunch of feathers glued to it. He is also shirtless – with the exception of a black vest and beaded necklace.

Everyone stares in disbelief, except: Brian, who does not look shocked; Stewie, who is forming the mountain from Close Encounters of the Third Kind in his mash potatoes; and Big Thinker, who is frowning.

"Greetings my people; I am Chief Stay-puffed Marshmellowman-"

"Peter, no," Brian tries to stop him.

He continues as if he didn't hear Brian, "It's been a long day and many moons of planting corn, but now is the time to feast."

"No," Brian keeps on.

"Well," says Lois uneasily, "we were waiting for you to say grace. Peter, what is that all over your face?"

"This is my war face. We didn't have any paint, so I used lipstick and whiteout. Say grace, huh?"

"No," Brian says again.

"Our blasphemous people do not believe in your "god". We worship Mother Earth and other primitive notions!"

"No. Bad owner!" commands Brian.

"But we will observe your white man's customs this once. Everyone, close your eyes…

Dear "god", I'm sorry we slaughtered their people and rapped their women."

"You'll have to excuse Peter, he doesn't mean to offend you. Actually, he says offensive stiff all the time. But I'm pretty sure he doesn't mean it."

Big Thinker pushes his chair back, stands up, sheds a tear and leaves the kitchen, out the back door.

"Peter, I – I don't even know how you even thought this was right. You've made an ass of yourself AND made out guest cry by insulting his heritage and past. Sometimes I wonder if you even have any feelings," Lois takes her lap napkin off and leaves the kitchen.

"Brian – what did I do?"

"Peter, I know you meant well. It's just you employment of it that failed."

"I mean, I tried. I dressed up, read up and even went to that Indian store to get a pair of moccasins. And they were like 30 dollars!

At least I didn't sing that Yankee Doodle Dandy song. Or mention that Indian In The Cupboard movie."

Cut to a kitchen scene: an Indian opens up a cupboard. There is another Indian squeezed in and bended on it's knees. -

"So right?"

"So right."

"Peter, maybe you should go outside and try talking seriously with him.And if you are thinking about saying something you think is offensive, think about it twice. IF that doesn't work, comment on the weather."

"Hey, thanks Brian! Here," he opens the fridge, "have a nice, refreshing, non-alcoholic Zema."

Brian takes it, rips the cap off with his teeth and chugs it. He takes off.

"I hate this family," Meg leaves the kitchen

"This is weird," says Chris.

"Yes," replies Brian, who just walked back in to thank Peter – something he forgot in a moment passion.

"I didn't know dad had boobies."

Brian takes back a swill, "Big ones. And they're hereditary," he walks off after not seeing Peter.

Chris comments to Stewie, "Does this mean I'll need to wear a manssiere? I don't even know how much they cost!"

"Yes, you're a regular Demi Moore. Now get out of my sight you big-chested troglodyte!"

Chris feels his chest and walks off.

Stewie finishes scoulpting the mash potatoes and examines his masterpiece, "Yes … all I need now is that guy from Jaws and John Williams and I'll be a regular Steven Spielberg.

Make Harrison Ford my bitch."

Peter walks out into the backyard, where in the middle, Big Thinker is sitting Indian style.

He stands next to Big thinker and gets down on his haunches. He then places his left hand out and onto the ground. He lowers down and sits. Then he tried to sit Indian style.

"Is it alright if I sit here?" he asks.

"It is your people's country; sit where ever you want," Big Thinker replies.

"Look, I came out here to apologize. I realize now that what I did was offensive to you and your people. I had good intensions, it just didn't come out right – like when I say 'I slit the sheet, the sheet I slit, and on the slitted sheet I sit" five times fast.' "

"Mister Griffin, I am not sure I am ready to accept your apology; fore I am not sure that you either did it to get along with me and your family, or that you truly meant it."

"Look, I'm sorry … it's flooding in Miami and snowing in Kansas."

"Excuse me?"

"Mother Earth is a cold mistress! Anyway, how could I prove to you I'm really sorry?"

"The basement…"

"Oh yeah, Lois set you up a really nice dig down there. You could bring all your Pocahontases down there for a little fire stick – if you know what I mean…"

"You could give me the basement."

"You're already in it."

"No, I mean that you would hand over ownership of it, to me."

"Oh ... okay, I guess I could do that, but Lois has to do laundry down there-"

"Deal," he takes a beaded necklace from his neck and hands it to Peter, "this is for you."

"Oh, gee – thanks Big Tinkler," he smiles.

"Thinker."

"Yeah, I do some of that sometimes too. Peaceful dreams chief," he goes back in the house.

Big Thinker sits … and smiles…