American Dad! (2005–…): Season 16, Episode 9 - Mused and Abused - full transcript

Bricks might be hard.

But growin' up
is harder.

Like a super-hard brick.

Thank you!

What's wrong with me?

I should have put bricks
in my story.

Klaus, relax.

Your story has nothing to do
with bricks.

- It's about a brick layer!
- It is?

Next on stage...
Klaus Heisler!

When I was 10,
all I wanted to be



was a wall-building guy
like my grandpa.

He would stack these...

eh, y-you know,
they-they go on each other,

but never right on top?

They'd be like this and this
and then here and here...

Why are you
telling stories?

Mm.

Eh, t-this is
a storytelling event.

Are you Mother Goose?

Okay, I'm going to continue.

Continue boring everyone?

Eh, n-no one's bored.

I'm actually pretty bored.

Then get the out!



Sir, the bathrooms
are located in the back.

Why are you taking a dump
on stage?

Not bored anymore!

♪ Good morning, U.S.A. ♪

♪ I got a feelin' that
it's gonna be a wonderful day ♪

♪ The sun in the sky
has a smile on his face ♪

♪ And he's shinin' a salute
to the American race ♪

♪ Oh, boy, it's swell to say ♪

- ♪ Good... ♪
- ♪ Good morning, U.S.A. ♪

Aah!

♪ Good morning, U.S.A. ♪

*AMERICAN DAD*
Season 16 Episode 09 (IMDB)

Episode Title: "Mused and Abused"
Aired on: June 14, 2021.

Ugh,
nothing but junk mail.

Letter from Francine's mom,
biopsy results,

cease and desist...
Ooh, it came!

It came! It came!

Francine, a reply
from the Bazooka Sharks!

Don't move!
I'm headin' your way!

Eee!
What's this now?

Your father and I wrote a letter
to Bazooka Sharks' management

outlining our concerns
and suggestions

for the future of
the franchise.

Okay.
Moment of truth.

I love you, baby.

"Dear Sharks fans,

thank you for your interest
in the team."

Hell yeah!
Great start.

"WE appreciate your passion
and continued support,

and hope for a better result
next season."

Go on.

That's... That's it.

Are you guys okay?

I know you can go a little
cuckoo over your beloved Sharks.

Okay. Good.

Just... checking.

Good morning, everybody.

Well, look who it is...
Mother Goose.

Get your cocoa and blankies,
everyone.

It's story time.

Ooh, my blankie's
in the dryer!

Oh, you want a story?
Here's one.

It's about an insignificant
grey douchebag

who ruins his friend's
storytelling event.

Roommate's
storytelling event.

Face it, Roger.
You're just a hater.

You have no real talent.

Sure, you know how
to tear down,

but you can't create.

Uh, I can create.

My personas?

Masks.

Costumes.
Wow.

You don't have the balls to
put yourself out there like me,

to risk ridicule contributing
something meaningful

to the world.

This is a brutal takedown.

Deep down,
you are a coward.

Wha... Y-Y... Y...

Th... That's not...

Guys?

Room for one more?

This letter sucked.

It didn't address
a single one of our points.

And we had
a lot of good ones.

It's like they're obsessed
with the forward pass.

Why?
It's so risky.

Whatever happened to
establishing the run?

To smashmouth football?

To ground and pound, baby!

I'll tell you what happened...
Analytics.

Moneyball.

Nerds.

We don't need eggheads.

We need leatherheads, Stan.

I know that, my queen,

but the bean counters
runnin' the show don't.

Well, maybe we need to
make them understand.

Ground and pound them.

Oh, yeah!
Let's smash 'em!

Yeah!
Kill 'em?

No. Smash their
corporate offices.

Okay!

How?

My friend Nerfer's got
an armor-plated bulldozer!

Oh...
Oh, yeah!

...yeaaaaaaaa-agh!

It's been a while
since we've done this, Klaus...

Watched TV together
in total silence.

It's nice.

Klaus, about yesterday...

No, let me go first.

You were a huge dick
at my reading,

but I
was very hard on you.

It's okay.
No, no, please.

I owe you an apology.

But I'm only going to give you
the apologetic tone..

Because I'm not sorry.

Thank you for the tone.
It's more than I deserve.

I thought about it,
and you were right.

You have the courage
to put yourself out there

in a way I never do.

Here.
W-What is it?

Ugh! It's me putting myself
out there.

Just open it. God!

It's... beautiful.

Steve, look.
It is good.

But is it better than
being quiet and watching TV?

I don't know.

What's good, my man?

Oh, say, where can we find
the corporate offices?

Do you want to do something bad
to them?

With your Killdozer?

Once sec.

No? In that case,
here's the address.

Their offices are
in South Dakota.

Oof.
That's a schlep.

- Big time.
- You wanna call off the rampage?

Does this
answer your question?!

Killdozer rampage
still on!

- Yea-ha-ha! Yeah!
- Whoo-hoo!

Yeah!

R-Roger?

In the back!
Through my secret door!

Wow.
What is this place?

In the '40s, it was
a button factory.

Now?
My art studio.

You made this?

I had no idea.
You're an artist.

Well, I don't know about
"artist."

I'm...
I'm just dabblin'.

Goofin', really.
Goofin'?

I-It's incredible.

The weathered gills,
the pain in the eyes.

It's a window to my soul.

Phew.
That's what I was going for.

Is that a painting of me?

They're all you, Klaus.

You are... my muse.

Oh, shit.

- Family announcement!
- Family announcement!

- Where is everyone?
- I don't know.

Something about establishing
the run. What's up?

Roger's an artist,
and I'm his muse!

Oh. Mazel tov.

Well, the important thing is
the world needs to see your art.

You're doing
a gallery opening.

Ha! As if.

Who'd be interested in
my silly little scribbles?

Prolly no one.

I sold all my art!

A toast...
to everyone who made

my first gallery opening
a success.

Of course, Hovek...
Beautiful Hovek...

For providing
such a dynamic space.

Carl, a man I met
just moments ago...

Um, hello?

Aren't you gonna mention
your muse?

Klaus, zip it.
Go back to the muse table.

Um, there's no
muse table.

What? But artists need to
quaff wine

and belly laugh together,

far from the din
of their simpering muses.

- Have one set up.
- Me?

Just get it done!

Look at him, sucking the marrow
out of life.

And I'm sitting here
like a schmuck.

Why would he treat me
like this?

Oh, listen to you.

Isn't it enough to be
a part of something artistic,

something meaningful?

Wow.
You're right.

I should be
thanking

- Roger...
- Hey!

Why am I hearing
the muse table?

I'm trying to tell a ribald
anecdote over here!

Sorry.
Now, how far did I get?

We got the priest,

we got the urinating
up and down the back,

we got my great joke...

"Christening?
More like pissening."

Maybe that's it.

Maybe that's
the whole thing.

Another home-run story
in the books.

We are rampagin'.

Hayley, toss me
another 5-hour Energy.

My rage is dipping.

Maybe it would help
if I read the letter again?

- Yes.
- Great idea.

- "Dear Sharks fans..."
- Ooh!

Those mother****...

We must rise and attack the day,
my friend.

The world wants our art.

You're the dumbest person
of all time.

What?
We sold every painting.

And now I have to come up
with new paintings.

Uh, Earth
to tortured artist.

It's your muse talking,

ready to inspire.

But not ready to cook me
breakfast, apparently.

I have access
to Fig Newtons.

Fig Newtons are good.

I forget that sometimes.

Well, you have a lot
on your mind.

Eh, not really.
But let's work.

Sorry,
I just need a sec.

Hold that pose, though.
It's perfect.

What the hell?

Had to run out
and get some more Newtons.

BRB.
Do not move.

Ugh!
The life of a muse.

This is ridiculous.

What do you think
of this dance?

Ba-da.
Ba-da-da-da-ba.

Kick the salad.
Roger!

- What the hell are you doing here?!
- What the hell are you doing here?!

What am I doing here?

You kept me in that damn chair
for six hours!

Paramours, take five
while I deal with this guy.

"This guy"?

I'm your muse!
Your inspiration!

And what do you do?

You abuse me,
treat me like a dog.

We were supposed to work,
damn it!

Is this what you want,
Klaus?!

Is this what you want?!

It is what I want.

That's why I just gave you
all the money.

Stop yelling at me.

Uh, sorry!
That's my fault.

I made him mad
back at the bistro.

Forget about the bistro.

Let's take a beach stroll,
maybe have a beefstro.

That's what I call
beef stroganoff.

- Seagull.
- Majestic birds.

Not the most majestic,
though, Klaus.

I-I wasn't suggesting...

It's fine. It's fine.
Just... Just be careful.

Eat your stroge.

You changed my life,
Roger.

And you, mine, Klaus.

Your brutal takedown was
the nudge I needed

to finally
put myself out there.

Your paintings...
They move people.

Our paintings.

Thank you.

I'm finally a part
of something meaningful.

You saw the real me.

That I did do.

I guess I feel
a little less lonely

on this big orb
they call Earth.

Who calls it that?

E-Everyone?

Huh.
I call it Gaia.

But I'm a special person.
An artist.

I-I was hoping we could
also talk process.

I was thinking maybe
there's a way for me

to feel less like shit
at the end of every day.

There is, and that's actually
why I brought you out here...

To tell you you're fired.

- You're fired.
- What?

- Why?
- Let's go alphabetically.

"A" is for albatross.

You're an albatross
around my neck.

"B" is for bore.
You bore me.

That's an easy one.

"P" for puke-inducing,

"Q" for quick-to-make-me-barf,
"R" for rascal.

Well, that's... that's the one
thing I do like about you.

You're kind of a rascal.

You fired Klaus?!

Yeah, but not for reals.

Just to break his heart.

It's all part
of my process.

Your process?

Yeah, I torture Klaus,
crush his spirit,

and then paint
his sad face.

Rinse, repeat.

How long have you been
doing this?

Oh, gosh. Years?

Probably since day one,
yeah.

You've been... torturing me?

Ruining my life
for paintings?!

And sculpture
and mixed media.

Stop motion's
on the horizon.

Perhaps a line of puppets?

Why would you do this?

For my art, dummy!

It comes only from pain...
your pain.

I can't take this anymore.

I hope
I never see you again!

Wait, Klaus!

Yes?

Wow.

That's gonna make
an amazing puppet.

Look, no one's saying me
or my work has suffered

from not having a muse,
but the times,

they are a-changing...
Oswaldo,

and they require
an experienced muse.

I have never
done this before.

Ugh. Go ahead
and get naked, Oswaldo.

Right here?
In Coffee Bean?

It's fine.
I'm an artist.

Unfortunately, I won't be able
to pay you to start.

Business is slow.

You can thank my old muse
for that.

- What did he do?
- Ruined my art.

Destroyed my life.

Toxic guy, Oswaldo.

My only solace is knowing
wherever he is now,

he's miserable, too.

Let's go, people!
Get 'em while they're hot.

Gluten-free for m'lady,

and chocolate-chip for
my man Brandon in the house!

Yes!

Where did you even come from,
Klaus Heisler?

Mwah!
Hey, when I get home,

we're gonna tackle
that algebra.

- Deal?
- Deal.

How we lookin' on that Tuscan
Grilled Chicken, Shaneese?

It's close, boss.
Love it.

Are we having fun?

- Yes!
- Yes!

And remember...

It's only paninis!

Mother Goose?

Roger? Uh...
What are you doing here?

Me?
What about you?

Well, I work here,
at Panera Bread.

I'm actually the manager.

Still pursuing
your storytelling?

Nah. Between work
and Denise and Brandon,

I don't have time.

Whoa!
"Denise and Brandon"?

Who am I talkin' to,
Ward Cleaver?

Right?

All I need now is a basset hound
to bring me my slippers.

Too funny.

So, what are you up to
these days?

Ah, still doin' my art thang,
so that's been good.

Really jammin' on that.

Also doing a lot more heroin

than when we were
working together,

which has been nice.

Well, I better get
back in there.

Yeah, no, I should probably
do this heroin.

It was good
bumping into you.

For sure, yeah.

Hey, uh, if you ever get
that muse itch,

swing by the studio.

Yeah, I-I probably
won't be by...

Yeah, probably best.

I don't want the studio
to smell like a Panera.

Have a good life, Roger.

Havin' one, my dude.

♪ Oh, it's spaghetti night ♪

♪ And the feeling's right ♪

♪ Oh, it's spaghetti night
Oh, what a night ♪

Klaus, I need you back!

Is this your friend
from the Dumpster?

Brava, Denise.

You've got it all figured out,
don't ya?

Well, did you know I was gonna
bring this plastic sword?!

I'm calling the police.

Pastor Mike did say

to look for opportunities
to bear witness.

Roger,
why don't you join us?

Mmm. Oh.
Oh, I bet you'd like that.

Ah. You'd just love
to see me choke

on Denise's
shitty meatballs.

This guy hates me.

Not true.
I want to thank you.

You set me free.

Oh... Oh, free to get your balls
cut off by Denise here?

I'm aware of you, Denise,
just as you are of me.

My whole life,
I thought I was a miserable guy.

Worse, I thought I brought it
all on myself.

Turns out, it was you.

What's your point, Aesop?

Aesop tells fables,
Denise.

I never had a chance
to be happy.

You were sabotaging me!

Can we just cut the bull
and get back to work, Klaus?

Don't you see?
I'm finally happy.

What about "meaning"?

This guy is so horny
for meaning.

I found meaning,
with these two whackadoos,

and all the lives I touch
at Panera.

Enough! I can't stand to look
at you one second more.

So, with my dignity intact,
I will now take my leave.

Forever! Ah!

Oh, God! Oh, no!

Oh, I'm doing both kinds
of bathroom!

Denise, what kind off flooring
we dealin' with?

If it's linoleum,
bring the hose in here.

In the meantime,
gather anything absorbent...

Beach towels, bath towels,
shop rags.

Oh, if you have a shop,
sawdust would be a godsend.

That's perfect world.
I could make cotton balls work.

Now, we do need someone to
take the lead on ventilation...

Opening doors, windows,
gathering fans.

- I can do that.
- Wow, Brandon.

Way to step up.

Everybody look at Brandon.

There it is!

Ramming speed!

The Sharks won
the Megabowl?

Yeah.
Hey, you're Stan Smith.

Uh, m-may... maybe not.

You're famous here!

We took another look
at your letter

and realized
you were right.

Smashmouth football was the key
to our undefeated season.

You listened to us?

So... rampage over?

But... no rampage.

But Killdozer need to eat.

Welp, I'll leave you to it,
then.

Go, Sharks!

Go, Sharks.

Wow, honey.
Check out Roger.

You were skeptical
when he reached out,

but he looks like
a new man.

Thank you all for coming.

First, I'd like to give
a shout-out to my sponsor, Mark.

30 days sober
thanks to that amazing human.

I'd also like to acknowledge
Klaus Heisler over there.

Klaus was my muse,
but I hurt him.

I thought great art
came only from pain,

but beauty isn't born
from misery alone.

There's also
the wellspring of joy.

You taught me that, Klaus.

You continue to inspire me.

Thank you.

And now, art.

Feast your eyes
on my greatest masterpiece...

"Spaghetti Night"!

Woof.

This one's a dog.

Oh, wow!
"Spaghetti Night"!

Pretty awesome, right?

The eyes.

They're dead.
They're meatballs!

I think it's cool because
it's a statue of you... Dad.

You're an imbecile,
Brandon.

Klaus!

There's no depth, no pathos.

It sucks!

I'm not this corny-ass
Mr. Rogers.

Uh-oh. That's a quarter
for the swear jar, Klaus.

Here's 50 cents.
Go buy some new tits!

Excuse me?!

You did this to me!
We're finished!

Brandon, why did you even
bring a football?!

It's an art gallery!
I hate you!

I hate you!

I hate myself!

There he is!

There's the Klaus
I know and love!

I knew the misery
was still inside you!

You obviously didn't know when
you squeezed out this turd.

Oh, didn't I?

It's me.

The real me.

Thank you, Roger.

I am your muse,
now and forever.

Yes!
We're back, old friend!

But about that...
We're not back.

I've given up art
to follow my true passion...

Doing heroin.

We're back, old friend!

Denise?

Ah, she headed out.

Dad, this was
a great idea.

Well, it would have
been a shame

making the thousand-mile
journey home

without
rampaging something.

Feast, Killdozer!
Feast!

Why?

Then again, why not?

Have a great night!