Home Improvement (1991–1999): Season 1, Episode 6 - Adventures in Fine Dining - full transcript

I want you to sit down so I
can wash this horrible jacket.

Enough! I don't want to hear
another word out of you guys.

Sit down.

Boy, you really did it
this time, didn't you?

You really did it.

I just want to thank you boys

for the most embarrassing
night of my life.

We are the only
family in 12 years

to have been kicked out of
Wacky Jack's Pizza Pagoda.

Takes a lot of work to get
kicked out of a restaurant

that has a trampoline
and a batting cage.



But, Dad... No buts. That's it.

It was Wacky Jack's fault.

He was making those
stupid faces at us.

He's a clown. That's his job.

We didn't do anything.
(mimics) We didn't do anything.

Does this look familiar?
Wacky Jack's nose.

You pulled it
right off his face.

It's not his real nose. I
don't care whose nose it is.

Don't pull things
off people's faces.

Hey. You know what
you guys are gonna do?

You're gonna take this nose,
you're gonna put it in an envelope,

you're gonna sign a little apology
note and send it back to Wacky Jack.

And right now you're
gonna get out of my sight.

Go up to your rooms.
March. March. (Jill) Hup. Hup.



(Jill) If I hear any noise
upstairs, I'll be up there.

And if I have to come up there,
you won't want me up there.

We weren't even
doing anything. Now.

We want to watch Full
House and we didn't do it. No.

I just want you to
know I'm innocent.

Innocent?

Pouring salad dressing
down your brother's pants?

Oh. You saw that?
Yeah. I saw that.

Tim, this is pathetic.

We've sunk to a new low.

Pizza.

Yeah, if you take off
those mushrooms first.

Those aren't mushrooms,
honey. I'll pass.

Would you nuke that
for me? Nuke it yourself.

(makes chimp noises)

Don't give me that. You
cook for us all the time.

Me barbecue. Cook
outside with flame.

Microwave inside,
cook with magic.

Flame good, magic bad.

Microwave good, man stupid.

(chimp calls)

Easy, monkey boy.
Fire's our friend.

Hey.

(chimp calls)

Tim, come on.

You're gonna drip
cheese all over my stove.

Not to mention burn the hair
right off my knuckles. Man.

(children arguing)

I'm gonna count to three

and then I'm gonna
be up there! One, two...

Dad, Brad and Randy
are doing bad things.

Unless it involves
human sacrifice,

I don't want to hear about it.

OK. I'll let you know.

Little baboons. Where
do they learn this stuff?

Possibly from the big baboon.

(inquisitive grunt)

Yes, you. You encourage
their bad behavior.

I don't encourage bad
behavior. Oh, yeah?

Tonight, when Brad
spit his chewing gum

across into that
plant, you cheered.

Jill, that was a 10,
12-foot arc, easy.

Right into a six-inch pot, man.

Michael Jordan couldn't
have made that shot. Huh?

And I did tell him to stop, too.

Oh, yeah, after you gave
him a standing ovation.

I may be wrong, but I think
that's sending a mixed signal.

Enough said.

Now, what are we gonna do
about our boys' table manners?

You should give a refresher
course. Me? What about you?

Honey, I'm a man. What
do I know about manners?

I see. So, table manners
are the woman's job.

Historically, Jill,
yes, that's the case.

Emily Post, Amy Vanderbilt

and, of course, who
could forget Miss Manners?

I don't recall an etiquette
column called "Ask Chuck."

"You know, Chuck, I've been
eating pot roast all my life,

get that little gristle piece
stuck in the middle of my tooth.

"Do you suck it out with the
tongue or ask somebody to do it?"

"Help me out with
that..." Tim. Tim. Listen.

You are the one that
encouraged their bad behavior,

therefore you should have to be
the one to teach them good behavior.

We should do this together.
No, no. You're the transgressor.

I never wear your clothes.

All right. I do like that
taffeta gown. I feel...

You know what I'm
talking about... so pretty.

What do you want me to do?

I want this family to
get through a meal

without the boys
throwing their food

or gargling their milk
or talking about boogers.

A meal without boogers. Hm.

That's it. Never gonna happen.

I can give you a perfect
meal. Yeah, when?

When's gonna be
this perfect meal?

Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night,

I'll sit the boys down, we'll
have a man-to-manners talk.

You are going to have
three perfect gentlemen.

(Randy) Come on! (Brad) Wow!

That's it. (boys) Look at that!

What is this?

What are you...
Where are you going?

Brad and Randy threw
my mattress out the window.

That's it. I'm coming up there!

Honey, honey, honey,
you don't have to...

So... Al and I have
finished that subfloor.

And next time we'll
show you how to lay down

tongue-and-groove
hardwood flooring.

Al, what size floorboard
do we use on that, Al?

Tim, they're three inches wide
by one eighth of an inch thick.

They'll be fastened down by
driving a nail at a 45-degree angle

through their
longitudinal tongue.

Ow! That's gotta hurt, huh?

But we do that to
hide the nail, don't we?

That's right, Tim.

I know that sounds
complicated, but it's not.

And what you'll end up with is an
absolutely beautiful dining-room floor.

Speaking of dining
rooms, that brings me

to today's Tool
Tip for Tool Time.

It's about etiquette.
It's a big word,

so get out your dictionary.

See, a dining room need
two things to be complete.

A floor... (chuckles)

and manners.

See, when men are
together by ourselves,

we don't worry about
manners, do we,

'cause, hey, we don't need 'em.

You're at the ball
game, what's better than

a mustard fight with
your buddies or...

spitting beer.
"Hey, buddy!" Hey!

My personal favorite,

jamming two big French fries
up that nose, act like a walrus.

(honks)

Hey! It's guy stuff.

And women don't appreciate
guy stuff, and that's the truth.

I don't think a woman
really understands

the diaphragmatic
control it takes

to do all of the
vowels in one belch.

A-E-I-O-U-fff...

Manners. Use manners.
It shows you're civilized.

It tells women you're civilized,
and they'll keep doing things for you.

So always remember that.

Use the correct fork,
put the napkin in your lap.

And always -

I do mean always -

excuse yourself when
you lose a little pressure.

Because I want you
to remember, men,

the first three letters
of "manners" are...

(grunts)

See you next week! (grunts)

(♪ theme music)

Look, Tim. I found this
broccoli in Randy's dirty clothes.

Hm.

Either he's hiding it or
not digesting properly.

Oh! You are so disgusting.

What is all this? Teaching
my men some manners.

With wooden blocks. Rehearsal
food, that's what that is.

Well, gee, I hope
they don't like it.

I don't have any
recipes for wood.

Sure you do. That meat
loaf that you like so much.

I don't mean to criticize,

but is this where you
want to put the napkins?

No, I want it in
the proper spot.

There you go.

That was right in
the first place. Hey!

You don't really think
I can do this, do you?

I didn't say that, Tim.

Come on. You don't
really think I can do it.

Say the words. Say it, say it.

Sweetheart, I just think
that you cannot teach

that which you do not know.

Really? Really.

I'll have you know that

that which you think I do
not know is that which I know.

No, no, no.

If I can't whip these boys
into shape... What, what?

I will give you anything
you want. Anything?

And I think I know
what you want.

No, no, no, Tim.

That would be the
consolation prize.

I was thinking more
along the line of,

uh, season tickets to the opera.

Argh!

(Jill laughs)

That's a Greek word, isn't it?

"Death by music."

You said anything. If
that's what you want, fine.

But if I want to see a
screaming fat lady with horns,

I'll go to your
mom's house. Yeah!

Now, listen, buddy.
A deal is a deal.

I'm gonna go call the
Michigan Opera Theatre

for ticket information.

(♪ hums "O Mio Babbino Caro")

You're wasting your time.

Mark!

Mark! Yeah, Dad?

Mark?

What are you doing
under there, sweetheart?

Smelling the inside
of the trash can.

Why are you doing that?

Brad said he would
give me a quarter if I did.

What, is Brad, like,
the garbage fairy now?

You go inside and wash up. OK.

Randy. Brad!
(distantly) Yeah, Dad?

Home now! How
goes it, good neighbor?

Hiya, Wilson. What are
you making over there?

Building a porcupine trap.

Really? Mm.

I don't think there's a
whole lot of porcupine

in the Detroit area, are there?

Aha. But if you build
it, they will come.

What do you want, Dad?

I want you to go sit
down at the table, all right?

Hey, Brad. Can I have a
moment with you, please?

What? Your little brother

was underneath that
garbage can, smelling it.

Where do you get these ideas?

They just come to me.

Why don't you go sit down? I'm
gonna teach you boys some manners.

You owe me a quarter! No way!

Dad! That's enough.
That's enough, you guys.

Cut it out. Stop running
around. Stop, stop.

Come here. Sit down.
We've got work to do.

Sit, sit, sit. What
are we doing?

We're sitting down is
what we're doing. (groans)

Now... I love you boys,
but you are bad news

in the table manners department,
so we're gonna have a crash course.

Why? Why?

Because of what happened in
the restaurant last night. That's why.

I told you, it was that
stupid clown's fault.

You ought to go back
and punch him out, Dad.

Hey.

Never hit anybody with
makeup - that's the rule.

Bottom line here, we are
gonna have a civilized meal...

and I set this table
nicely. Put those back.

A civilized meal means, Brad,

no hitting, pinching, kicking,

all that jazz at the table you
don't think I see. I see it. Don't do it.

And, Randy, none of
these gross-out stories.

The boogers, the scab stuff.
Scabs that talk to boogers...

Dad, you want
to talk about food?

Hey. Hey. Food.

Perfect. Let's talk food.

OK. Well, today
in the cafeteria,

we made Bobby
Devers laugh so hard,

he shot peas out his nose.

No way! It was excellent.

Yeah, but did it
have snot on it? Ohh!

We're not gonna
talk snot tonight.

You're gonna come down
the stairs like little princes,

sit down, clean and
washed up, and look around

and say, "Good evening, Mother."

Mom's not here. Yeah,
pretend she's here.

I'll be Mommy. No, you
won't. Don't be Mommy.

That scares me when
you say stuff like that.

Have a seat here.

Don't mind me - just
pretend I'm not here.

It'd be a lot easier to pretend
you weren't here if you weren't.

I won't say a word.
Do you need any help?

Thanks, honey, but I've
got it all taken care of.

By the way, I did call
Michigan Opera Theatre.

There are plenty of
good seats available.

You guys gotta help me
out. Gotta help me out.

Let's take care of this.
If we don't do this right,

I'm gonna spend the
next year at the opera.

(both yell)

All right, focus, focus, focus.

Eating is not just a
necessity - it's a job.

And like any job, you
need the proper tools.

These are the
tools of the trade.

Fork, knife, weaker
sister - the spoon.

Help me, help me, help me.

Almost useless, crude
instruments by themselves,

but together they form
the mealtime triad of power.

(all grunt)

Tim, I hate to
interrupt this gruntfest,

but dinner is less
than two hours away.

Thanks for reminding me,
pookie. Thanks. You're welcome.

Now we gotta hustle up. We
gotta hustle up. Just the ba...

Take the knife out of your
mouth, please. Please?

Just the basics,
quick. All right.

Tonight's dinner, do
not eat with your hands.

Well, what if we're
having chicken?

Well, for...

Chicken outdoors
- use your hands,

chicken indoors
- knife and fork.

What about live chicken?

A live chicken?

Brad, who the hell
do you hang out with?

Mom! What?

Dad's cussing. I'm not cussing.

He said a bad
word. It wasn't bad.

Yeah, he said "hell" and "damn."

I did not say
"damn." Now you did.

Control, here. Control.
Control. That's it.

You guys now...

(shudders)

We do exactly as
Dad does. Listen up.

Sit up straight.
Sit up straight.

Straight. Sit up straight.

Elbows off the table,
Randy. Randy, elbows.

Stop that. Stop that.

Stop that. Stop that!

Stop that. Stop
that. Stop that...

Enough. Enough. Enough.
Stop that, that's enough!

Stop that, that's enough!
Stop that, that's enough!

Don't repeat me! Stop
that, that's enough!

Stop that, that's
enough, don't repeat me.

(♪ opera)

Stop that, that's
enough, don't repeat me.

Stop that, that's
enough, don't repeat me.

(bang cutlery in time)

(cat yowls)

Wilson? Hiya, Tim.

Sounds like you caught
your first porcupine.

No, just Mrs. Foley's
cat. (cat yowls)

Easy, Fluffy.

I'm trying to calm him down a
little bit before I set him loose.

He's not hurt, is he?
No, no, no, no, Tim.

This is a humane
trap. (cat hisses)

Course, that's my
opinion, not Fluffy's.

So, how was the powwow with
the boys about the table manners?

Wilson, I don't know.

Those kids sit down to
dinner and they go nuts.

Tim, Tim, Tim. The
problem with your boys

is they don't know how to
channel their mealtime aggression.

Mealtime aggression?

See, Tim... primitive
man was a hunter.

He had an intimate
relationship wit his food.

Lot of dating with wildebeest
going on? No, no, no.

I'm talking about
a spiritual intimacy.

They were at one
with their meat.

(inquisitive grunt)

The hunter would
stalk and kill his prey,

then pay homage
to the animal spirit.

He would give thanks to
the animal for giving its life.

But the primitive
man in us is confused.

Today our food
comes to the table.

We don't know how it got there.

Hm. Gives you
something to think about

when you open a can
of Spam, doesn't it?

Yes.

Thanks, Wilson. I think
Fluffy has calmed down now.

There you go, little
buddy. Freedom.

(cat meows)

(dog barks)

(cat yowls)

Well, with freedom
comes responsibility.

(all talk at once)

Enough. Enough. Enough, guys.

Your mom wants one quiet
meal and I'm gonna give it to her

if I have to duct-tape you
yard apes to those chairs. Quiet.

OK, we'll do whatever you
want tonight. Can we go now?

No, no. You can't go now, because
I'm gonna tell you something,

I know the reason why you
guys get nuts at the dinner table.

Because you don't have an
intimate relationship with your food.

You don't respect
what you're eating.

You're not getting this. Let
me show you what I mean. Hm.

This is the chicken we're
having for dinner tonight.

Oh, yuck. That looks gross.

That's exactly my point.

This bird gave its
life so you could eat.

You should thank the bird.

Dad, have you lost it?

You're just missing it.

You don't get it. It's simple.

You guys would lose
your mealtime aggression

if you had to hunt it
and kill it yourselves. Hm.

Tell you what.

I'll be the chicken, you
be the mighty hunters.

Stalk, hunt me,
kill the chicken.

(clucks)

(high voice) What a wonderful
day to be a chicken and alive.

Buk buk buk.

Oh, God, it's
hunters. I'd better run.

Flee. Run. Flee.

So they couldn't catch me. Flee.

(normal voice) Run.
Stalk, hunt, kill me.

Kill the chicken!

(all) Kill the chicken!

(panicked clucks)

(Tim, high voice)
Kill the chicken.

Kill the chicken.

(normal voice) All right. I
think the chicken's dead.

The chicken's dead.

But the spirit of the
chicken's still alive!

Aw.

We gotta eat this thing now.

I am not eating that.
There's grass all over it.

Does that bother you? Yeah.

It's all dirty,
gross, disgusting.

Ho, ho, ho.

Haven't we learned something?

You know what?

I think what's dirty and
disgusting and gross

is when you guys
come to the table

and tell all your
booger and scab stories.

Fight, kick, yell.

I think manners
aren't respect for food,

but respect for people
around you, maybe.

You guys understand
any of this stuff?

Yeah. Yeah. Kind of.

Well, why don't you think about
that before tonight's dinner?

Now what do we do?
Whatever you want.

Kill the chicken again!

Randy, honey, do you want
some more mashed potatoes?

No, thank you. How
about you, Brad?

No, thank you. ( ♪
"Madame Butterfly" playing)

"No, thank you."
"No, thank you."

That's very polite.

Tim, I got to apologize. I
thought you couldn't give me

one quiet meal with
the boys, and you did it.

We can kiss off Madame
Butterfly, can't we?

Not so fast.

I mean, you didn't really
teach them manners.

You just exhausted them.

Take what you can get.

I might just do that.

(grunts)

I'll be going upstairs now.

You want company?

No. Just you.

(grunts)

Shouldn't we take
the boys to bed?

Nah, leave them.

It'll only take a minute anyway.

I'm feeling pretty spry, honey.

Maybe a minute,
five, a minute, ten.

When laying down
that hardwood floor,

you could use a hammer and
nails, but (snorts) why would you?

That'd take forever. I think
what we need here is...

(audience) More power!

I was thinking right
along those lines myself.

And look what Al
brought us out here.

The Binford 3-11 series
B power nail driver.

Thank you, Al.
You're welcome, Tim.

That's etiquette. Always
thank your coworker.

Try to say something nice.
Al, good-looking slacks.

Whoo!

That bad boy's
raw power. (grunts)

The kind of power you
need to attach a phone book

to a cinder-block
wall. Doof, doof, doof.

Tim? You might want
to remind our viewers

that the Binford 3-11
has that new safety lock.

I'm sure it does, Al.

Well, it's been completely
redesigned. Doof, doof.

Al, I grew up with these things.

Heck, that is a little different to
what I'm used to seeing, isn't it?

Well, all safeties
are basically similar.

Very impossible to shoot it
when you don't want to shoot it.

(gun goes off)

Ow. Hey.

(high-pitched) Tell you what.

We're goin' to a
break right now.

Get me out of this.
Boy, that's gotta hurt.

Yeah, Al, it does. Feels
kinda like that. (gun goes off)

(Al) Argh!