Act Two.
EXT. GRIFFIN HOME
Kelly's first client pulls into the driveway. A shady-looking scumbag man comes to the door.
INT. GRIFFIN HOME
KELLY: Hey! The client is on the way! You can't be here! YOU! CAN'T be here! Get lost!
Oh no! The door opens!
SCUMBAG: Hey! Is this the house that's just here to have girls in it, and just Kelly, and just for me?
KELLY: You betcha!
We look up to the ceiling, to find Chris clinging up-side down to the ceiling.
SCUMBAG: So, you own dis place?
KELLY: Oh, yes, I've had it for three years. My Dad's a . . . doctor. I grew up surrounded by military, yeah. It was tough.
SCUMBAG: Oh, I hear ya! I . . . ummm . . . I own Bank of America!
KELLY: Oh, wow. Nice.
60 Minutes Later . . .
The scumbag drives off in his car. Chris talks into his cell phone, looking out the window.
CHRIS: Okay, Dad, the silver car is leaving . . . leaving . . . gone.
PETER: All right, now get your income.
CHRIS: Hello, Kelly. So, you have the money?
KELLY: Ohhhhh, right. Here's the thing. The guy never showed up.
CHRIS: . . . what?
KELLY: Yeah, the guy . . . whoo. Never showed up. I had no clients today. That is what happened.
CHRIS: Now, come on, Kelly. I saw the silver car leaving. What was he here for?
KELLY: Who, what? What silver car? I don't know any silver car.
CHRIS: Come on, I don't have time for this. That guy was here for an hour, you must have some cash.
KELLY: I do not. I swear.
CHRIS: (sigh) My Dad's gonna somehow find a way to take it out on me, I just know it.
Chris calls Peter up.
PETER: You got the money?
CHRIS: No, I . . . let me explain.
PETER: CHRIS! CHRIS! YOU SCREWED EVERYTHING UP! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING!
CHRIS: DAD, LISTEN TO ME! The girl tells me she made no money. Now, I saw the silver car leaving. I know she saw a client. I know it - I saw him inside the house. She just won't admit -
PETER: Chris, every massage girl does this to me. Every single one of them. They tell me they didn't see any clients, then they pocket all the money. Absolutely, positively, every single one of my girls, 100% of them, have done this tome. This has happened to me with 37 massage girls in the past. Not ONE has yet paid me, to date. So, in a sense, it's like I just do not learn my lesson.
CHRIS: Dad! My God! You can see this massage business is no good for you - mentally, or physically! Think about the strain this puts on your heart, Dad. You don't want -
PETER: Chris, I will be the judge of whether or not I value human life. Now, Chris, let me tell you what just happened here. YOU, lied to me. YOU, pocketed the money, then tried to blame it on Kelly. THAT is what happened, and that's final. You, Chris, are just like the rest of my girls.
CHRIS: But, Dad, no! I would never do that! I don't even have any money on me -
PETER: Yeah right! Liar! Liar! Pocket the money, will you? YOU'RE NOT A GRIFFIN ANYMORE, CHRIS. That was the 10th and final straw.
Peter hangs up his phone.
PETER: Son of a bitch, thinks he can pocket hundreds of dollars and keep it a secret from me. I'll show that son of a bitch!
Chris sighs, upset.
CHRIS: I tried to tell him not to run a massage business in this house. I told him it would end up badly. Now look. Now it ended up badly. But Dad still has no idea of it, and he still blames it on me.
LOIS: Chris, it's okay. I understand the truth.
CHRIS: We made no income, but instead, we lost money today.
LOIS: It's okay, sweetie. Tomorrow the girls will pay up. I promise. Otherwise you gotta slap a bitch. Why don't you just go to bed?
INT. GRIFFIN HOME - CHRIS' ROOM
Chris is laying down in bed. Soon, he's asleep.
INT. HEAVEN - 7TH, HIGHEST LEVEL
"Welcome To Level 7" reads a sign planed in the cloudy ground. Chris and God are talking, one-on-one, at God's wooden desk.
CHRIS: God . . . please don't let my Dad go to Hell. It's not his fault. He thinks Heaven and Hell are just fairy tales. He doesn't think there's a Hell for him to end up in. Just please, let him into Heaven!
GOD: I don't know, Chris. Your Dad . . . I mean . . . fff . . . chooooo! You seen the files on this guy?
God holds up the manilla file folders, which spill out all over the place.
GOD: Okay, look here, look. Look. All the speeding tickets, ever. This one's from when he was 17. These ones are from a few weeks ago. And here are all the bills that were unpaid -
CHRIS: I - I know all that. But my Dad is a good person, and I swear to God - uhhh - I swear to you - that up until this massage business came in, he was a loyal, dedicated family man. 15 years ago, he was nothing like the man who wears his clothes today. He does not deserve the inferno.
GOD: Hmm. Kid, you make a good point. But, like . . . it's just . . . your father convinced women to work in an escort service . . .! I mean, that's just, nooooo!
CHRIS: I mean, yeah, but just . . .?
Tears are rolling down Chris' face.
CHRIS: Please, though. He's a good man. He never intended to hurt anyone, at first!
GOD: Sorry, Chris. A shoplifter's gotta pay the price. An escort service has to pay the price. Otherwise, the universe would just be mindless chaos among animals.
CHRIS: Well . . . y-yeah.
GOD: And Chris - nobody can force you to lead the business or not lead it. That is YOUR choice to make, and don't let anyone tell you any different. Without the freedom of choices, why should I bother to give you guys free will in the first place?
CHRIS: Wow! God, you're right! Uhhh - can I go back down to Earth now?
GOD: (waving him away with one hand) Bye-bye.
The cloudy ground underneath Chris dissipates, sending Chris falling.
CHRIS: Whoaaaaa!
God spins his chair around and goes back to playing video-games.
INT. GRIFFIN HOME - CHRIS' BEDROOM
Chris wakes up in bed.
CHRIS: Goodness, what a strange dream! I have got to stop smoking so much pot before going to bed!
LOIS: Wake up, Chris Griffin! Wake up! You are going to be late for school!
EXT. GRIFFIN HOME - DAY
Another morning at the Griffin house.
INT. WOODEN CABIN
Chris sits in a rocking chair, narrating the story.
CHRIS: So, to summarize what else happened.
Still pictures illustrate Chris's tory.
CHRIS: We tried again with Kelly. She saw two clients in one day. Paid us nothing. After 5 days of Kelly, Dad fired her. We tried again with Micki. We tried again with Alexa. We tried again wih Brandi. But we just got the same result, over and over and over, and it was starting to look like this business would NEVER make us money.
My job, as a driver, involved about 70 miles a day of driving, for the girls.
But I would always end up getting stiffed, with no money.
I quickly saw how my Dad found this frustrating. No idea why he kept at it.
The girls racked up tickets to my car. Stuff went missing around the house.
LOIS: Where the Hell did my jewelry go?
MEG: And where the Hell did my Prada bag from Season One go? I went through a lot of trouble to get that bag!
CHRIS: Look at this! Look at this! She even stole our Aspirin! She left us with ONE Aspirin pill! She even stole our Aspirin! I guess she thought it wasn't Aspirin.
BACK TO the narrator Chris, now dressed as Spider-Man from the neck down.
CHRIS: Lots of bad things happened. But still, my Dad pressed on.
INT. GRIFFIN HOME - LIVING ROOM
LOIS: Oh, Peter, could you please hand me my phone?
PETER: I'M SO SICK OF THIS! YOU GET YOUR OWN DAMN PHONE! YOU GET YOUR OWN DAMN PHONE! YOU STOP TRYING TO DOMINATE ME!
LOIS: Peter, what the Hell! All I did was ask you nicely if you could hand me my phone!
PETER: NO! NO, YOU DID NOT! You were trying to own me, like the rest of the girls! You're ALL the same! ALL of you!
LOIS: PETER GRIFFIN! I am your wife, and lover of MANY years - I am NOT "just another massage girl"! And if that's what you see when you look at me, then you don't even know who I am!
PETER: Ohhhh . . . I'm sorry, Lois, it's just - this business! It's so . . . mentally unhealthy! You know?
LOIS: I know. Chris told you that you really shouldn't -
PETER: Oh, nobody cares what he thinks.
We look away, to find Stewie on the staircase, wearing only a diaper.
STEWIE: I'm sorry, fat man, but this is for your own good.
Stewie gets his cell phone out and dials 9-1-1.
STEWIE: Hello, 911? I'd like to report an escort service, that a certain Chris Griffin is in charge of.
Stewie sets the phone down, and looks at the viewer.
STEWIE: Ohhhhhhhh, I'm bad!
INT. GRIFFIN HOME - LIVING ROOM - SOON
PETER: You, Chris, are on THIN ICE with this family. I'm just afraid that somehow I, a perfect father, am gonna end up in trouble over you and your CRIMINAL actions.
Knock, knock! There's a knock on the door.
PETER: Oh, great! I bet it's more problems I have to deal with because of you!
Peter walks to the front door, and opens it to find two policemen.
POLICE OFFICER 1: Hello. Does Chris Griffin live here?
PETER: Yes, he does. What did he do THIS time?
POLICE OFFICER 2: We've received an anonymous tip that he runs an escort service, disguised as a massage business, out of THIS house.
PETER: What? The son of a bitch! Well, the call certainly did not come from here.
POLICE OFFICER 1: Mr. Griffin, I'm here to stop this business.
PETER: Okay, look. I know. I know my kid Chris is crazy. I know it's pathetic that he's still working at a record store, but come on - try to go a little easy on the kid. You know?
POLICE OFFICER 1: I'm afraid you don't understand, Mr. Griffin. I'm not just here to say this to Chris. I'm also here to say it to YOU.
Peter is silent. Then, like Aladdin's genie, his draw drops all the way to the floor.
PETER: You mean I, also, am in trouble over this?
OFFICER 1: Mr. Griffin, if this massage business that you're running doesn't stop, we WILL be making some arrests. And that includes the girls that work for you. They'll be charged as prostitution, and you will be charged as a pimp, both felony charges.
PETER: Just tell me. How did you find out? My son was my downfall, right? I knew it.
OFFICER 1: I looked you up on Backpage, and pretended to be a girl.
INT. COMMERCIAL
ANNOUNCER: Attention, PEDOPHILES, CREEPS, and CHILD MOLESTORS!
Those three words appear in red letters against white.
ANNOUNCER: Tired of being judged and look down upon for your sexual tastes? Tired of being told to stop touching children? Then BACKPAGE is the place for you!
A 50-year-old man and 10-year-old girl smile and give the camera a thumbs-up.
ANNOUNCER: Backpage serves ALL your child-molesting wants and needs! Search for little boys, little girls, or BOTH!
We've got women who tickle your feet with a feather for $500!
We've got women who will punch you in the stomach for only $200!
And for a limited time only, these grown women WILL go out to dinner with you, and pretend that the two of you are dating, for only $400 an evening!
CUSTOMER: WOW! A pretend girlfriend for the evening, who's flesh and blood? For only $400? I'd be stupid NOT to spend my money on this upgrade to life!
ANNOUNCER: So what are you waiting for? Go on BACKPAGE - and start molesting children today! (Might Be FBI Agents.)
INT. GRIFFIN HOUSE
PETER: Chris, if you're not on Backpage by tomorrow morning, posting ads for my girls, you are grounded. Forever.
POLICE OFFICER 1: Now, look. Mr. Griffin, we personally feel like . . . it's not really fair, for your son Chris to be stuck into the middle of all of this, by you. So, I'm giving you one day. When I come back tomorrow, if you're still pulling this massage business game, then I'm going to arrest you, Peter Griffin. And if you still have your son involved tomorrow, he's getting arrested, too.
PETER: I understand. I understand that Chris could end up arrested for this. I agree, it's not right, what Chris does.
POLICE OFFICER 1: This is your final warning. We are not tip-toeing around with you anymore, Mr. Griffin! Your friendship with Officer Swanson does NOT give you unlimited privileges or entitlements.
PETER: Aww! But I thought that was how I would float through life!
INT. AIRPORT - MIDDAY
At Terminal 8-C, a dozen people sit in chairs and wait for their plane to arrive.
OVERHEAD VOICE: Attention, passengers in Terminal 8-C. Flight 417, nonstop to Chicago, is being delayed by 10 minutes. Repeat, Flight 417, nonstop to Chicago, is being delayed by 10 minutes.
Peter Griffin walks in, naked.
PETER: Hey, guys. Uhhh. I was wondering. Can I be the first to get on this plane?
WOMAN: What the -? Good heavens! That man is naked!
PETER: Oh, it's okay. I know Officer Swanson.
WOMAN: Oh! Okay! Keep going, then!
Flash! She takes a Polaroid photo of Peter.
PETER: Also, I'm gonna need several free drinks, a little bit of food, an in-flight movie . . .
INT. GRIFFIN HOUSE
POLICE OFFICER 1: Oh, right! Right! The naked airport guy! This is the guy! Right! I remember that. Huh. Wow! So, it seems you ARE dressed this time, Mr. Griffin.
POLICE OFFICER 2: Now, this is the last time we're gonna be all nicey-nice about it. Next time we come out here, tomorrow, there better not be a massage business going on!
PETER: Right. I understand. Chris is an utter failure at life, I get it.
The policemen leave. Peter shuts the door.
CHRIS: So, Dad, now do you think I might have been right earlier, about how you should stop the -
PETER: Chris, no one cares about your college degree, OR your opinion. You still were in the wrong.
CHRIS: But, you will stop the business NOW, right?
PETER: Chris, if you think I'm gonna stop this massage business, you have got another thing coming.
CHRIS: Hey. Who called the police, anyway?
PETER: Wasn't me.
CHRIS: Do you think it was Stewie?
PETER: OH, COME ON, it was not Stewie! It may have been Meg, or Lois, or possibly even you, but it WOULD NOT have been Stewie! It WOULD NOT! I have had ENOUGH of your slandering of my innocent kid, Stewie!
CHRIS: But - don't you think -?
PETER: Chris, it was obviously one of YOUR friends that called the police and reported you. Obviously they don't really care about you. YOUR friends are the cause of all this. THEY are the problem here!
CHRIS: Dad, now come on. It was obviously not my friends.
PETER: You don't know that! That . . . that sneaky . . . Matt . . . or . . . or Brandon, or . . . or Chris, or whatever your friends' names are. Anyway. This conversation is over. I'm not listening to some . . . some KID from a record store, just barely out of college, with some . . . college degree. No thank you, I will talk to 18-year-old massage girls that I met off of Backpage instead.
INT. GIRL'S HOUSE - BEDROOM
An 18-year-old girl with long black hair is pointing and clicking away on the computer.
GIRL: Back . . . page. Hmm. Let's see. SECRETARY WANTED. Legitimate secretary job needed. Makes $200 per session. Must be willing to do happy endings. Not a REAL secretary, read between the lines. Hmm. Well, okay! Here goes nothing!
Click. A close-up of the computer's mouse, as she clicks the left button. On the computer screen, a pixelated image of Peter Griffin loads.
PETER: Hey, everyone! Tired of being laughed at for working at Denny's? Tired of being labeled pathetic because you work at a record store selling MUSIC all day? Tired of your job and life in general being a sad, pathetic joke? Then BECOME AN ESCORT!
INT. WOMAN'S BATHROOM
A woman is brushing her teeth in front of the mirror.
WOMAN: Gee. I am bored with my life. I never get to go out and do anything.
A flash of white light! Now she is wearing only sexy lingerie. All the mess and clutter of items in the bathroom is gone. Nothing is visible in the bathroom except the atmosphere-setting decorations: red petals all over the floor and bath, red heart-shaped pillow, a dozen candles lighting the dark room, and an incredibly skimpy outfit hanging from a hook on the wall.
Now the woman is counting her $20 bills.
WOMAN: Wow! Now my life is 10 times what it was before! THANK you, escort service!
INT. GYM
A fat girl is running on the treadmill.
GIRL: I used to be laughed at and picked on. But now I've got all KINDS of creepy guys stalking me, and wanting to marry me, and give me fake names and fake histories. THANK you, escort service!
EXT. BRICK BUILDING - DAY
A police officer, criminal, and colorful clown all look at the viewer and smile.
POLICE MAN: Escort services are the best thing that have ever happened to planet Earth! Ever!
The clown reaches down and squeezes his own crotch twice, making a honking noise both times.
INT. GIRL'S BEDROOM
GIRL: I'm convinced. This is the job for me!
She uses her cell phone to call Peter. Riiiing! A two-way split-screen view commences, with Peter Griffin in the right half.
PETER: Yello?
GIRL: Hi! I'd like to be a massage girl! I can send you photos of myself in lingerie, with my face blocked out by a black square. But no nudity, of course.
PETER: No nudity. Right. Huh! All right, whoever you are, what is your age?
GIRL: 18.
PETER: Excellent. All right, you can start "secretarying" first thing Monday morning.
GIRL: I don't have a college degree, though -
PETER: No, no, you don't need that. Only losers get those.
GIRL: All right, Mr. Griffin! I look forward to massaging guys for you!
PETER: And I look forward to meeting you!
He hangs up the phone, and only Peter's half of the view remains.
PETER: Just don't tell Chris about this, you viewers at home.
INT. GRIFFIN HOME - LIVING ROOM
All the Griffins are sitting on the couch together, except Lois.
CHRIS: Huh. And all these years, you guys acted like I would be the one that would probably meet girls off the Internet. But really it's you, Dad, who meets girls off a web-site.
PETER: Well how the Hell else do you expect me to run a business remotely in Alaska?
CHRIS: What? Alaska? Dad, hold on. We're in Rhode Island. We're far from Alaska.
PETER: Chris, obviously you do not get how things work. I have many, many girls working for me. Some right here in Quahog. Some in New York. But mostly in Alaska.
CHRIS: And you met them off of Backpage?
PETER: Technically, I have not met them. But we do business, and it's been working out quite well.
CHRIS: Really? For how long has this been going on?
PETER: About 4 years now. Where the Hell were you?
CHRIS: About 4 years? Dad, I never knew this about you.
PETER: Chris, there's a lot of things you don't know about me. In fact, you barely know anything about me at all. Now be quiet. You don't need to know anything. Go back to your kid games, your . . . your record store job. Go back to college, college kid.
STEWIE: Yes, you know, I always found it odd how Alaska became integrated into the United States.
INT. MAP OF EARTH
A white gloved hand moves around a map of Earth, around Canada, the USA, and Mexico.
VOICE: Yes, over here, to the west, is Russia. To the right, far east of there, is Canada. But in between the two is Alaska.
All the USA territories become red.
VOICE: Yep. So this area, right here, Alaska, will be counted as U.S. territory, and all this, right here, on the east side of the dividing line, the Yukon, will be counted as Canada. Yep! Makes sense.
An interior shot of any town in the Yukon. Cold, and snowy, with people dressed warmly. White captions identify the area as "the Yukon".
An interior shot of the British Columbian territory.
An interior shot of Quebec.
An interior shot of Alaska, looking just as cold and snowy.
SINGING VOICE: Alaaaa-as-KA! How-does-it-count-as-U.S.?
CUT TO Peter in a gray suit.
PETER: When I was a kid, watching TV, Alaska and Hawaii were not part of the U.S.
EXT. OUTSIDE A ROW OF STORES - EVENING
Gray sky. Rainy weather. Chris is walking through the rain, depressed. A slow, depressing version plays of: "Gonna gonna gonna gonna gonna gonna buy me a rainbow . . . gonna gonna gonna gonna gonna gonna wrap it up in a great big bow . . . the time is right, it's day, not night . . . just open up your heart, it'll be all ri-ight . . ."
INT. GRIFFIN HOUSE - SOON
Chris walks inside.
PETER: Ewww. What do YOU want?
CHRIS: So, I getcha. You talk like that to everyone.
PETER: No. Not everyone. Just you.
CHRIS: Yeah right. Obviously you've got the whole family involved in this "massage" business. Remember? No one can be a Griffin unless they're in this "massage" business.
PETER: I don't say that to all the Griffins. Just YOU.
CHRIS: Why? With six and a half billion people to choose from, why pick me, to single out?
PETER: Well, Chris . . . it's just . . . you see . . . all these years, I've been abusive to Meg. And I've known it. I've been well aware of the cycle of abuse. But all this time, I had neglected to be abusive to you, too. And for that I'm sorry, Chris. So now I'm gonna make sure that I give you Hell, just as much as I used to give Meg Hell. And in the future, I promise, I'm gonna make an older Stewie's life a living Hell too. That is my promise, as a father!
Stewie, playing with blocks, suddenly freezes still.
STEWIE: That feeling, when you realize what the future of your life really has in store for you.
MEG: All right, guys. I'm gonna go buy tampons. I'll be back, at some point.
LOIS: No one CARES! God!
Meg leaves.
LOIS: God, that Meg! It's like . . . no one cares that you're buying tampons! You know? I'm just so sorry I ever had her.
PETER: Yeah, that Meg is a bigger disappointment than that time I built that robot.
STEWIE: (to Rupert) Yes, well, this conversation leads me to assume that, indeed, this is how they will speak about ME when I'M not around. (pulling out a ray-gun) I must establish preemptive measures.
A close-up on Rupert.
RUPERT: (subtitles) Preemptive measures? What is that? Is it like candy?
STEWIE: No, Rupert, "preemptive measures" are not like "candy". (rolling his eyes) God! That teddy bear of mine! So impressionable.
LOIS: So, anyway. Peter, whatever happened with, uhh, with that robot that you built, you were say-
PETER: (standing up) SO GLAD YOU ASKED!
INT. BATTLEBOTS SET
The theme video plays for: BattleBots.
ANNOUNCER: And in this corner . . . the metal death machine on wheels, BUZZSAW McRUIN!
A metal battle-bot thrashes its metal limbs all around.
ANNOUNCER: And in THIS corner . . . Peter Griffin's robot . . . Android Peter Griffin.
ANDROID PETER: I PREFER THE TERM ARTIFICIAL PERSON. IF YOU DON'T MIND.
Buzzsaw McRuin approaches Android Peter, destroying him quickly.
ANDROID PETER: OW! OW! WHAT A CRUEL WORLD THIS IS FOR US ROBOTS! Gaaah.
Android Peter raises one hand up to the sky. Buzzsaw McRuin quickly cuts the arm in two.
ANDROID PETER: THIS IS WORSE . . . THAN . . . HIGH SCHOOL.
EXT. JAMES WOODS HIGH SCHOOL - DAY
James Woods High School, on a normal day.
INT. HIGH SCHOOL - CLASSROOM
TEACHER: Class, I'd like you to meet our newest student, Andrew Oid. Where are you from?
ANDROID: UMMM . . . UMMM . . . CANNOT PROCESS QUESTION. TRY AGAIN LATER.
KIDS IN THE CLASS: Ahh, this guy's being weird. Look at him! What kind of guy talks like that?
ANDROID: HIGH SCHOOL IS UNCOMFORTABLE THUS FAR.
In the corner of the room, he eyes an android girl robot, also somewhat fat, looking depressed. Their eyes meet. Gasp! She feels it! Gasp! He feels it, too! Android Peter Griffin feels love for her!
INT. HIGH SCHOOL - HALLWAYS - LATER
Android Peter and the girl robot are making out passionately in the hallway. Clack! Clack! Clack! Metal tongues touch.
PETER: THERE you are, Android Peter Griffin! I hereby forbid you from having a relationship with this girl robot! And you! You are not to see my robot any longer!
ANDROID: But, Dad! I love her!
PETER: . . . You . . . do? You . . . you really do mean it?
ANDROID: I really do mean it.
The two robots hold hands. Peter smiles, nodding his head.
PETER: I approve. God, this is like a robot version of that play I saw at that theater.
INT. STAGE THEATER
All the actors and actresses in Romeo and Juliet, as well as Peter and Brian, are floating in the air, moving very slowly.
PETER: Now. If we are in a flashback clip, within a clip, within a clip, that is Level 3 of Inception.
BRIAN: What does that mean? What's happening in Level 2?
PETER: Brian, Level 2 is still proceeding on its own, like normal. But 10 seconds of time, in Level 2, makes over 2 minutes here in Level 3.
Peter Griffin knocks on the wall, knocking it down, revealing the Brooklyn Bridge. Slowly, the edge of the bridge raises up into the air, creating an impossible landscape.
BACK TO the high school, with Peter Griffin and the male and female robots, still making out.
PETER: Ah-chooo!
INT. STAGE THEATER
The people are all still suspended in mid-air, but now, with Peter's sneeze, they are forced to fly ahead.
BRIAN: Wait a minute. So what's happening in Level 1 of Inception?
INT. BATTLEBOTS STAGE
Buzzsaw McRuin is slicing Android Peter.
ANDROID: Ahhhh! Ahhhh! But at least I got to have what time I had!
EXT. GRIFFIN HOME - NIGHT
A normal night, on Spooner Street.
INT. GRIFFIN HOME - LIVING ROOM
STEWIE: Yes, well, whatever the fat man and his eldest son are doing, I can only imagine. Maybe . . . maybe they're talking about how to make puppy dogs.
BRIAN: I guarantee you they are not talking about how to make puppy dogs.
STEWIE: Okay, well, I don't know! Okay? . . . Just . . . try to remember, you were my age once. You had no concept of how stuff works, at some point.
BRIAN: Huh. Yeah, boy is that true.
EXT. NATURAL OUTDOORS
Brian, in his puppy years, races around back and forth. He sees another dog. He races forward.
BRIAN: RUFF! RUFF! Tag, you're it!
He races back, away. He races forward again.
BRIAN: Tag -
OTHER DOG: GAAAHHRAAAH!
Jaws snapping, the other dog attacks Brian. Immediately, Brian is in the middle of a fight, both dogs locked in mortal combat, trying to kill each other.
BRIAN: You son of a bitch! I'll kill you! You hear me? I'll kill you!
OTHER DOG: You stupid dog, I'll teach you to bark at me!
BRIAN: ARR ARR ARR!
Brian sinks his teeth into the other dog.
BRIAN: I'm seriously gonna kill you! I'm seriously gonna kill you! This is your FINAL day on Earth! You hear me?!
They fly up into the air, like in Dragon Ball Z, and each one flies into the air at each other. Both dogs growing closer together, they swing punches at one another.
BRIAN: Come here! I'll - I'll -
Peter suddenly grabs Brian and lifts him higher up into the air.
PETER: Whoa! Whoa! Brian, you do NOT fight! You hear me? You do NOT fight!
Peter strikes some cymbals, causing a sound that is hurtful to Brian, making him stop.
The other dog attempts to bite Peter.
PETER: STOP IT! STOP IT! Go away! Go! Go home!
BRIAN: Arr arr arr! Arr arr arr!
Kicking, and thrashing, trying to escape Peter's grip, Brian still tries to fight the dog. Peter walks away.
PETER: Wait a minute, we didn't know each other this long! We met when you were a homeless adult!
BABY BRIAN: But in a parallel dimension, we met when I was a puppy! Huuuh? Huuuh? Pretty clever writing, huh?
INT. GRIFFIN HOME - LIVING ROOM
Back to Brian and Stewie on the couch.
BRIAN: All right, fine, so it's true. So I used to be your age once, and not know how stuff works. Huh . . . I used to get a lot of battle marks on me, back in the day. I just hope you don't end up in as many physical altercations as I did.
STEWIE: No, I - I don't think I'll be involved in many fights in my lifetime. One future timeline of mine involves working at an office, having Go-Gurt Day. It's up to me to shape which future materializes.
LOIS: What's that, Stewie? Baa baa? Here's baa baa!
STEWIE: No, no! I don't want Baba right now! Ehhh!
He pushes his bottle away with both hands. Lois tries one more time, but again he pushes it away.
STEWIE: Ehhh!
Knock knock! Brian's ears perk up as he looks toward the door.
BRIAN: ARR ARR ARR! ARR ARR ARR!
Brian races to the door, and opens it, to find Quagmire hovering in the air.
BRIAN: Oh, hey Quagmire! What the . . .?
QUAGMIRE: Yep! Turns out that what you THOUGHT was Level 1, is ACTUALLY Level 3! NOBODY's gonna figure out THIS movie!
Brian slams the door shut.
LOIS: Brian, who was that?
BRIAN: Uhhh . . . nothing.
INT. LOG CABIN
CHRIS: And so the police forced my Dad to stop running his business, and they only succeeded in shutting down the Spooner Street house. The rest of the business goes on in 17 different states.
PETER: Yep! That's right, 17 states.
CHRIS: So, now we learned a valuable lesson. My record store job, and my college degree, are what's valuable in life, because that is a real job, and is not selling drugs or prostitution.
PETER: Chris, you're wrong again. We have learned yet again that college degrees and record store jobs are for losers, and these girls make real money. That's what we learned. You gotta make money somehow, Chris. You gotta do something. You gotta do something.
CHRIS: Dad, that's not the lesson.
PETER: Well it is to me. Good night, America!
BLACK.
CHRIS' VOICE: Ohhh . . . wait!
BACK TO Chris and Peter. Chris is holding up a large red shimmering jewel.
CHRIS: It turns out red kryptonite is what caused all of this devious behavior lately! But as the red kryptonite is now wearing off, things should be back to normal again!
PETER: Yes, by next episode I'll be saying this never happened. Good night, you pathetic losers who work at restaurants!
BLACK. END OF ACT TWO. END OF EPISODE.