Family Guy (1998–…): Season 9, Episode 11 - German Guy - full transcript

♪ It seems today
that all you see ♪

♪ is violence in movies
and sex on TV. ♪

♪ But where are those
good old-fashioned values ♪

♪ on which we used to rely? ♪

♪ Lucky there's a family guy. ♪

♪ Lucky there's a man
who positively can do ♪

♪ all the things that make us ♪

♪ laugh and cry. ♪

♪ He's... a...
Fam... ily... Guy! ♪

♪ Family Guy 9x12 ♪
German Guy
Original Air Date on February 20, 2011

Everyone, we need to discuss
our problem with Chris.



His little habit of, uh,
personal amusement

is getting way out of hand.

I mean, look at this.

What's that,
some kind of board?

It's Chris' blanket.

We've got to do
something about this.

I'm pretty sure our washing
machine is pregnant.

I don't even know how that's
scientifically possible.

Uh, life, uh, uh,
uh, uh, uh, uh...

finds a way.

You know, maybe you guys
should help find Chris a hobby.

Wait a minute, Brian,
that's a great idea.

Chris needs a hobby.

Hey, Chris, get in here.



Yeah, Dad?

We are gonna
find you a hobby.

- What do you think of that?
- Okay.

There you go,
that's the spirit.

Yuck.

Hey, Christopher.
What are you up to?

Hi, Mr. Herbert.

My dad's helping me
find a hobby.

Well, you sure got a
pretty morning for it.

Chris, don't waste
our time with the elderly.

They're dying.

Please, God,
let me just sniff his hat.

Let me just sniff his hat,
that's all I want.

(sniffs)

Now I want more.

Here's a pile of stamps,

carefully culled from swap
meets and garage sales.

And look at this.

It's a Bolivian airplane.

Now, it says it's worth
eight cents, but really...

it's worth twelve.

See that? Already ahead.

Came right out of the blocks
with a winner here, Chris.

Now, we'll just paste this very
carefully into the book.

And that's where it belongs.

Now this is a
loaded handgun.

And what we're gonna do
now is kill ourselves

because this is horrible.

Couldn't we just stop
philateling?

Too late.
(gunshot)

All right, Chris, this is
one of the oldest hobbies

in existence: Drinking.

Hey, hey, good times
just walked in.

(applause and cheering)

HORACE: Oh, hey, he can't be in here.
He's not 21.

All right, just hang out here
for a little bit, huh?

(slurring words): All right,
see you later, gang.

Chris, what are
you doing here?

You're supposed
to be at camp.

What am I paying for?

I could have gone pro
if it wasn't for my bum knee.

(snoring)

(sighs)

(gasps)
Wow!

That is so cool. What is it?

MAN (with German accent):
It's a puppet.

Welcome.

I am Franz Gutentag,
and this is my puppet shop.

Puppets.

And I thought I'd
seen everything.

My name is Chris.

Well, Chris, puppetry
is a wonderful art form.

You can create an entire world
right before your eyes

and watch it come to life.

Wow.

What's that one
over there?

Ah. That is a work in progress.

It is waiting to become
anything we wish it to be.

My name is Chris,

and I like candy and jumping
and colorful birds.

Wow! What else do I like?

You like the pop singing
of today.

(synthesized pop music playing)

♪ Two, three,
ich berleg' bei mir ♪

♪ ihr' nas'n spricht daf
whrenddessen ich noch rauch'. ♪

♪ Die special places
sind ihr wohlbekannt ♪

♪ ich mein', sie fhrt
ja u-bahn auch. ♪

♪ Dort singen's dreh'
dich nicht, um... ♪

♪ Ooh, oh, oh... ♪

♪ Schau, schau... ♪

♪ Der kommissar geht, um... ♪

♪ Ooh, oh, oh... ♪

Yay!

That was the German-est
thing I've ever seen.

I'm so glad
you like it, Chris.

Would you like to try?

Oh, boy, would I?!

I'm a vampire, and I'm in love
with this unattractive girl.

Grr, I'm a werewolf,

and I am also in love
with this unattractive girl.

- Boy, she sure can act though, can't she?
- Nope.

The end.
(laughing)

Bravo, Chris!

You have really
tapped into

the wonder and enchantment
that is puppetry.

Plus I move these dolls and
make like they're talking.

Yes. Right.

Thanks for showing
me how to do it

and being so nice to me,
Mr. Gutentag.

Call me Franz.

Okay. Franz.

You know, Chris,
seeing a young person like you

enjoy puppetry
makes me so happy.

I feel like we could
become good friends.

That sounds like fun.

Wow, I think you're just
about my most favorite guy

who's gonna die soon.

That's the nicest thing
anyone has ever said to me.

Oh, no!

(knocking on door)

Mr. Griffin,
I'm sorry to bother you,

but there's a...

Well, there's a situation,
and we need to talk.

Look, if this is about those
droppings in your yard,

it was, uh, uh, Brian.

Yeah, Brian.

No, it's this man Chris
is hanging out with.

He's bad news.

Why? What's
the problem?

- Chris is friends with a Nazi!
- What?!

At first I wasn't sure
it was him,

but I got a closer look, and now
there's no question in my mind.

Franz Gutentag is really

Lieutenant Franz Schlechtnacht,
the most sadistic S.S. guard

in all of Hitler's
concentration camps.

That's a very
serious accusation.

How do you know this man
was a Nazi prison guard?

'Cause I was there.

It was 1944.

I was a young Air Force pilot
assigned as part of an escort

for a bombing raid
over southern Germany,

when we encountered
the Luftwaffe.

At first we thought
we were in the clear

because the Germans
were frightened

by the scary shark face
on the front of our plane.

Ah! A shark!

How did it get all the way
up here in the sky?!

Who cares, you fool?!

Do you want to get eaten?
Retreat!

But there was one
stubborn pilot

who saw through our disguise.

(machine guns firing)

Most of the surviving American
pilots were taken to POW camps,

but for some reason,
they thought I was gay,

so I was taken
to a concentration camp.

Behind those walls,

there was one guard
who decided everyone's fate.

If he pointed to the left,
you did hard labor.

If he pointed to the right,
you died.

That man was
Franz Schlechtnacht.

I was spared death,
but I was given hard labor.

He made me sort
the camp recyclables.

But some of those bottles

still had a little bit
of soda in 'em.

It would spill out on my hands
and make 'em kind of sticky.

Dear God, how my hands
would get kind of sticky!

(screaming)

(evil laughter)

No one should have to suffer
the way I suffered!

So that's why Chris should stay
away from that puppet store guy.

That all sounds
kind of sketchy.

Wait, are you
Jamie Kennedy?

Am I... Am I being skunked

or puked or whatever
some (bleep)?

I'm telling you the truth.

I swear on my nephew's grave.

I don't know, Franz seems
like such a nice old man.

Y... You know, maybe we should
just invite him for dinner

and clear this
whole thing up.

Yeah, you know, we got
no right passing judgment

without getting to know him.

Isn't that right,
Scottish Chipmunk?

Yeah, he doesn't talk,
but, uh, he's a chipmunk,

and he's Scottish, and he
would back me up on this.

Chris, wait.
Where you going?

I'm going to
Mr. Gutentag's house.

- You can't.
- Why not?

Chris, his name
isn't Gutentag,

it's Schlechtnacht,
and he's a Nazi.

What?!

It's true.

You got to stay away
from that terrible man.

Mr. Gutentag
isn't a terrible man.

He's my friend.

Chris, you don't understand,
I'm trying to help you.

Help me what?

Clean your pool
with my shirt off,

or wash your car
in jean shorts,

bend over in front of you

to get little bits
of lint out of the rug?

I know what you're about,
Mr. Herbert:

Free labor,
and I'm not into it.

Chris, you have to choose.

It's either Franz or me.

Chris, what's the matter?
You look upset.

Mr. Herbert was saying
terrible things about you.

He said you liked Hitler, and
your name isn't really Gutentag.

Oh, Chris, you can't always
believe what you hear.

For example, everybody thinks
that prostitution is illegal,

but there are ways around it.

All right, let's do it.

Both of you are under
arrest for prostitution.

It's not prostitution.

You paid her to have sex.

No, I paid her to have sex
and we're filming it.

So, technically it's not
prostitution, it's a porno.

Oh, well,

as long as you're filming
and selling it, it's legal.

Enjoy your day.

Remember kids, she's not
a whore if she's an actress.

ANNOUNCER:
This has been a message from:

The Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter Day Saints.

(knocking on door)

Oh, that's probably
mean old Mr. Herbert again.

Dad?
Excuse me, Chris,

I got to talk to
Mr. Pupenchest here.

Good day to you,
Mr. Griffin.

Say, listen, my wife and I
appreciate how nice you've been

to my son with all
the puppets and whatnot,

and, uh, we wanted
to invite you over for dinner.

Oh, wonderful.

And I shall celebrate
our friendship

by giving you a hand-carved
German wall clock.

Oh, yes, yes,
yes, yes, yes.

I could not
find the clock.

Aw.

But you got three of them
on the wall over there.

Yes, those are mine.

Oh.

Yeah, I need those.

Uh-huh.

I just don't know why
you said it then.

Mr. Gutentag,
can I use the bathroom?

Of course.
Down the hall to the right.

It's the door marked:

"Gluckmachnichten-
mechwerchtichlieber."

What the...?

So now you know
the truth.

I promise I won't tell anyone!

Just let my dad go!

Oh, I am afraid that
is quite impossible.

You're not gonna get away
with this, Mr. Googlesearch.

Oh, but I think that I will.

You two know my secret.

I must be sure no one
ever finds out the truth.

So what?
Are you gonna kill us?

Perhaps, Mr. Griffin.

I have not yet decided.

Well, you might want to do
something about that first.

What?

Quick, shoot him, Chris!
What are you waiting for?!

I... I... How do I know
which one to shoot?

What?

How do I know
which one is the real Dad?!

I... We... We never switched.

We don't even look the same!

All right, when's my birthday?

Ah, crap.

February eighth.

(gasps)

Dad!

There. That's more like it.

You idiot!

Well, learn my birthday,
(bleep)!

Mrs. Griffin!
What a nice surprise!

Come in!

Mr. Gutentag,
I'm sorry to bother you,

but Chris and Peter
didn't come home last night.

Have you seen them?

Oh, wait, is he a
great big fat person?

He's a large man,
yes, sir.

No, I have not seen them.

Well, if you do,
could you please contact me?

I'm just worried sick.

Of course, Mrs. Griffin.

I will let you
know immediately.

Dad, I want to go home.

All right, let's try
and figure a way outta here.

Look around.
See if you can find something

to break the door down with.

(gasps)
Dad, there's a window here!

Oh, my God,
maybe we can get outside.

No, it's too small.

Wait, Dad, look.

There's Meg walking down
the street.

Hey, Meg!

Hanging out with
all your friends?

(both laugh)

Hey, whale,
the ocean's that way!

That's a good one, too.

All right, let's figure
a way to get outta here.

Now we can't fit
through the window,

but maybe there's
some way we can let

people know
we're down here.

We gotta make
as much noise as possible

to get people's attention.

And nothing makes more noise
than unwanted salsa music.

Hand me that radio.

(loud salsa music plays)

(loud salsa music continues)

What the hell?

Oh, for God's sake, where's
that white noise machine?

(woman screams)

Help!

Oh, my God, help!

Somebody help me!

(sighs)

(music turns to static)

Aw, man,
the battery's dead.

Now what do we do?

(gasp)
Oh, my God.

Mr. Herbert! Mr. Herbert!

Oh, he can't hear me.

Jesse! Jesse!

(barks weakly)

Jesse, what is it, boy?

(gasps)
Chris!

Chris, what happened?!

You were right, Mr. Herbert.

Franz is a Nazi.

And he's keeping us prisoner
down here.

Get help.

Oh, and if you
see Meg, tell her

"Thunder Thighs
are on the move!

Thunder Thighs
are loose."

You know, I gotta say, Chris,

all my life I wanted
to see you locked in a basement,

but now that it's happened,
all I want to do is get you out.

Don't you worry.
I'll be back with help.

You want me to write that Thunder
Thighs thing down for you?

Ah, he's not gonna do it.

I'm here for the boy.

Who are you?

Oh, you don't remember me?

Well, I remember you,
Lieutenant Schlechtnacht.

(gasps)

But then why should you
remember?

There were so many of us.

But, frankly,
I don't give a damn.

And I'll tell you this:

only one of us is gonna
walk outta here alive.

Bring it on!

(dramatic action music plays)

(snoring)

Wake up. Wake up.
We're fighting.

Where... Where am I?

It's okay.
We're fighting. Wake up.

(rapid beeping)

Uh, hang on.
Hang on. Pills.

Yeah, me, too.

Wednesday, right?

Yeah, it's Wednesday.

Uh, you know what?
You know what?

What?

I'm having some trouble
getting up.

Would you mind
calling my nurse?

Her name is Frieda.

Her phone number
is in the kitchen.

(dramatic action music playing)

(singsongy):
Oh, gosh,

look who's stuck
on the couch again.

I'm not stuck on the couch.

Okay, Mr. Cranky.

One, two... three!
There we go!

You didn't need me.
You did that yourself.

Good for you.

You need anything else?

No, I'm fine, thank you.

Okay, you guys have fun.

Franz, grab my hand!

(mournful music plays)

(bones cracking)

Say good night,
you Nazi bastard.

(birds chirping)

Thanks for everything,
Mr. Herbert.

If only I had
listened to you,

none of this
would've happened.

You were my real
friend all along.

I'm sorry.

It's okay, Chris.

Sometimes the only way to really
appreciate what you have

is to see what life is like
without it.

And there's nothing I appreciate
more than your friendship.

Dad, Mr. Herbert called
me "Thunder Thighs."

Oh, you did it.
Thank you.