Married with Children (1986–1997): Season 6, Episode 26 - England Show III: We're Spending as Fast as We Can - full transcript
The Bundys are cornered by both towns. Upper Uncton wants them dead so they can continue to profit as a tourist trap while Lower Uncton wants them dead so they can end the curse. Al moves to defend himself and soon finds himself in a medieval joust opposite Igor. Who will emerge triumphant? And will the curse ever be lifted? The fate of all rests in the hands of the lowly shoe salesman from ...
Last week on
Married With Children:
Al and Bud were
being hunted by killers
from two different towns,
each wanting to kill them
in their respective villages.
Bud was warned
by some new friends.
You will die in the morning.
As if things aren't bad enough,
their only hope
of rescue is Kelly.
Marcie and Jefferson have
sought salvation elsewhere.
Bad Americans.
And for you Buck fans...
Would it have killed
them to pay an extra dollar
so I could eat?
And now, Married
With Children continues.
♪ Hang 'em high Hang 'em high ♪
♪ Hang them till
They thirst and die ♪
♪ Hang 'em high Hang 'em high ♪
♪ Hang 'em till
They thirst and die ♪
I welcome you all here
on this wonderful
Lower Uncton afternoon
to witness the deaths of
the hated Bundy males.
Their excruciating deaths
will usher in a new era
of prosperity and sunlight
on this peaceful village.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
Kill! Kill! Kill!
Ha, ha, listen to 'em, Peg.
They're chanting "Al, Al, Al."
Just like my old Polk
High School days.
You know, these people have
been so nice that during my speech
I'm throwing in an
old football story.
Why don't you tell them
about your 3.25 an hour?
That'll wow 'em.
You're just jealous
because I'm a god here.
Watch this.
How do you like that, babe?
They'll stop screaming
when you lower your arms, Al.
Most people do.
Heavy is the head that
wears your mother, son.
Dad, don't you sense
there's something wrong here?
And I'm not just
talking about the ghosts
who danced around
in my room all night
removing their heads
and telling me to get out.
I mean, haven't you noticed it's
daytime and yet there's no sun?
Hm.
Time to go.
Sorry, madam, no women allowed.
Huh, well, thank God they
don't have that attitude in Paris.
Oh, man!
Son, I could die a
happy man right now.
Al Bundy, have
you, uh, any words
for the assembled
villagers here?
My people,
today I feel...
like the luckiest man
on the face of the earth.
As you know, I played
high school football.
I was great.
And I know you kids out there
would like to be just
as great as I was,
but beware.
There's a killer out
there, a temptation.
It infests your country
the same as mine.
It'll eat up your money
and your will to live.
I know you've
heard about it before,
but you can't hear
about it enough.
Kids, please just say no
to marriage.
Uh, Dad, I've got a gut
feeling they're gonna kill us.
I'm trying to talk here, son.
Football builds men...
Oh, enough of
this football drone!
Kill them!
Kill them! Kill them!
Kill them! Kill them!
Son, I'm beginning
to think you were right.
Forsooth, woodsmen,
spare those men.
Fear not, Daddy,
there's no business
like show business.
Hi-yo, Silverware, away!
Well, I just saved
your worthless hides,
and I think I deserve a hearty
"Good job, Kelly, thank you."
Well, you might have
gotten a nice thank you
if you didn't say we
could travel faster
if we lightened the load,
then unhitched the horse.
Well, he did go
faster, didn't he?
So should we, 'cause
here they come.
Kill the Bundys!
Kill the Bundys!
Kill the Bundys!
Kill the Bundys!
They've stopped.
We must be safe.
Well, we are safe.
A man told me to bring you here.
What man?
That man...
holding a gun
and pointing it at us
with a whole load
of townspeople.
Uh, don't worry, Al.
Whatever happens,
I'll be right by your side.
The women are free to go.
We only want to kill the men.
Have a nice life, Al.
I hope your death is
less painful than your life.
Bye, Daddy.
Hey.
Come over to our side, yeah?
Yeah. Your death'll be quicker.
No. Come to our side.
At least we won't
eat you afterwards.
That is an ugly rumor started
by people who are jealous.
Besides, it... It's
dark over here.
We couldn't tell.
I mean, it's hard to know
what we were eating.
Wh...? Why aren't
they killing us, Dad?
I don't know, son.
We must be on the borderline.
Right, then. I'll settle this.
Now then, come over here
or your wife and
daughter are through.
You fool.
That didn't work with
the other Bundys, either.
All right,
we'll just wait them out.
Thank you.
It was really nice
meeting you. Thanks.
Thanks.
Oh, thanks for such a good time.
Now, you really
must come to America
and experience our theater.
Jefferson...
come on.
I'm sick of the theatre, Marcie.
Let's go get somethin' to eat.
There's a nice place
across the street,
The Whipped Puppy.
Mmm, sounds good to me.
Now listen, I have wired
my mother for money,
but this was the only
address I had to give her
so I guess we'll just
have to sit and wait.
Well, that could take hours.
What are we gonna
do in the meantime?
Bad Americans?
Bad Americans.
Dad, I just want to say it
was brave of you to say:
"Take me and let
the boy go free."
I didn't say that, son.
Don't you think it would
be a good time to do it?
Why would I say that?
What better way to die
than with my only son?
I love you, Dad.
Yeah, right.
But I feel this
is the right time
for a final father-son chat.
Great. Much better than my
dream of dying in the saddle.
Don't make me push
you off the borderline.
I won't be able to die in peace
until I've been
able to pass down
the accumulated
wisdom of my lifetime.
So listen, son, and listen good.
Ah, never mind.
Oh, we're getting nowhere.
Let's just beat them with clubs
and see which side
they collapse on.
Oh, no, no. No, no, no, no.
What if one of
them fell your side
and one of them
fell our side? Huh?
Be in a fine pickle
then, wouldn't we?
Look, I'm sure we could work
out something mutually beneficial.
Oh, right.
We have them killed on your
side and you promise to share.
But you won't, will ya?
You can't trust a light-dweller.
Moon people! Sun people!
Maybe we're taking
rather a narrow view of this.
Maybe we should be looking at it
from the point of view of
true entrepreneurs, right?
All right, look, it's the
grave of the Bundy
whose death ended a
400-year-old curse, hm?
That's gotta be worth
a little bit, hasn't it?
Custard sales.
Right.
Banners.
"My dad saw Al Bundy killed, and
all I got was this lousy T-shirt" T-shirts.
Perfect, I love it.
Partners.
Partners.
Peace has been found
after all these years.
Oh!
Kill 'em.
Wait... W-w-wait. Wait
guys, before you shoot,
I just wanna say one thing.
The blond over there is a boy.
Come on. It's not that
dark over here, lad.
Well, uh... Uh... E-e-excuse me.
While we're all in
such a jovial mood,
may I offer just a...
A little suggestion?
See, I-I think a great
idea would be pretending
to have killed the last Bundy.
Yes, well, I'm... I'm sure
something could be worked out.
I mean, we're not barbarians.
We're not the French.
Well, I demand vengeance.
Shamus McBundy insulted my
great-great-great-grandmother,
and I want revenge.
Hey, I'll buy you an Orange
Julius in London, buddy.
That's a brilliant idea. Okay.
Igor, you kill the big one
and in a typical rush
of English bloodlust,
we all kill the rest of 'em.
W-wait a second.
That's not fair.
I was once a mighty athlete,
and I demand to
go out like a man.
All right. What about
a... A medieval joust?
Just think of the
promotional possibilities, hm?
Buttons. Fanny packs.
Videotapes for the spectators.
Hey, Igor, before you kill him,
try and do something
funny with him, all right?
Then we can sell a
separate wacky blooper reel.
Oh, Al, do it.
I love those.
A medieval joust it is then.
They will fight to the
death in Upper Uncton.
Uh... But... Pfft,
why Upper Uncton?
Well, we could hardly film ever
in your village, now could we?
Was that another "dark" crack?
Let's not get testy.
We've got a man to kill.
Al, I'm afraid.
Don't worry, babe.
This Igor don't look
too tough to me.
Well, it's not him
I'm worried about.
They're gonna be filming,
and I left my bright-sun
makeup in the castle.
And you guys thought
you were cursed.
I can't believe my life depends
on Dad's ability to joust.
Well, it's better that than
his ability to earn a living.
And besides, who says Igor's
any good at this jousting stuff?
So long, Tiny Toon.
Uh, come on, Al.
It's time to go.
What could that man
be doing in there?
I think he's getting
into his battle gear.
Let's joust.
Al.
Uh, honey, before your death...
I mean, uh, certain victory.
There's really something
that I must say to you.
What is it, babe?
Do you have our return tickets?
You know, just in case
you lose 'em during your, uh,
"victory dance."
Don't worry about me, babe,
I played high-school football.
Besides, if I should die,
it will comfort me greatly
to know you'll be
stuck here for life.
Wish me luck, kids.
Oh, what good would it do?
Pumpkin, what do
you have to say?
Daddy's dying.
Well, that's comforting.
Let the tournament commence.
Pennants. Get
your Igor pennants.
Get your "I saw Al
Bundy die" T-shirts.
Here you are, sir,
one for the lady wife.
Here you go.
A couple for the kiddies.
Lovely, smashing.
That's it.
All right, very good.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Let's get ready to rumble!
Welcome to the
thumpin' in Upper Uncton.
On my left,
five-time all-European
undefeated jousting champion
going by the name of Igor
"The Truth" Deathshire.
And on my right,
from the Windy City of Chicago,
U.S.A.,
Al "Stink-foot" Bundy.
When I say begin, begin.
Begin.
Go back to England, Igor!
I can't look. How's he doing?
He's doing great.
What do you mean,
Dad's doing great?
Dad? I thought you meant Igor.
Okay.
Enough rope-a-dope.
Let's rock.
Now for the deathblow.
Next time you play a man's
game, wear a man's uniform.
And the next time
you insult an American,
make sure he didn't
play high-school football.
Oof!
Now let's rock.
You stink, Bundy!
Ooh!
You did it! You did it!
It was so great. Yay! Yeah.
Oh, Al.
Well, this is a fine
how-do-you-do.
What do we do now?
Well, I suppose we'll
just have to, uh, flip a coin
to see which side
we kill him on.
Look, it's the sun.
It's coming out
over Lower Uncton.
The curse must have been
lifted when Bundy defeated Igor.
Hooray for Al Bundy!
Oh, Al.
Oh, yay!
This is terrible.
We've always prospered
as a... As a tourist attraction.
"The town next to
the land of darkness."
Now we have nothing.
Uh, what about us? I mean,
now you can see. Look.
We've got no crops.
There's no paint on the stores.
We're just a couple of little
burgs in the middle of nowhere.
We can't sell any T-shirts now.
We can't even sell the
bloody video we made.
He's ruined everything, he has.
Let's kill him.
Why not?
Let's kill the whole
bloody lot of 'em.
Go! ALL: Yeah!
Vacation's over.
Thank your father, kids.
BUD & KELLY Thanks, Dad.
Americans coming through.
Excuse me. 'Scuse me. 'Scuse us.
- Americans coming through.
- Please move.
Excuse us. Excuse us.
Move. Move. Excuse me.
Excuse us. Excuse me, pardon me.
Americans coming
through. Excuse us... Oh.
Hi, you made it.
Hi. Yeah.
So how did you enjoy London?
Oh, it was great, Peggy.
We managed to take
in a lot of, uh, theater.
Oh, my goodness.
Someone has switched
our luggage and given us
many erotic forms of punishment.
But rather than hold
these good people up,
we'll be glad to pay the duty.
Do you have anything to declare?
Yes. My husband is an idiot.
Come on, kids.
Mom, what happened to Dad?
Oh, he got caught
stealing a hotel towel.
Hm, like he'll ever use it.
What do you think
they'll do to him?
Oh, please, it's a hotel towel.
What can they do?
What are you in for?
Stole an ashtray from the Ritz.
You?
Towel from the Savoy.
What do they feed ya in here?
Bread and water.
Then it's truly the best
vacation I've ever had.
Married With Children:
Al and Bud were
being hunted by killers
from two different towns,
each wanting to kill them
in their respective villages.
Bud was warned
by some new friends.
You will die in the morning.
As if things aren't bad enough,
their only hope
of rescue is Kelly.
Marcie and Jefferson have
sought salvation elsewhere.
Bad Americans.
And for you Buck fans...
Would it have killed
them to pay an extra dollar
so I could eat?
And now, Married
With Children continues.
♪ Hang 'em high Hang 'em high ♪
♪ Hang them till
They thirst and die ♪
♪ Hang 'em high Hang 'em high ♪
♪ Hang 'em till
They thirst and die ♪
I welcome you all here
on this wonderful
Lower Uncton afternoon
to witness the deaths of
the hated Bundy males.
Their excruciating deaths
will usher in a new era
of prosperity and sunlight
on this peaceful village.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
Kill! Kill! Kill!
Ha, ha, listen to 'em, Peg.
They're chanting "Al, Al, Al."
Just like my old Polk
High School days.
You know, these people have
been so nice that during my speech
I'm throwing in an
old football story.
Why don't you tell them
about your 3.25 an hour?
That'll wow 'em.
You're just jealous
because I'm a god here.
Watch this.
How do you like that, babe?
They'll stop screaming
when you lower your arms, Al.
Most people do.
Heavy is the head that
wears your mother, son.
Dad, don't you sense
there's something wrong here?
And I'm not just
talking about the ghosts
who danced around
in my room all night
removing their heads
and telling me to get out.
I mean, haven't you noticed it's
daytime and yet there's no sun?
Hm.
Time to go.
Sorry, madam, no women allowed.
Huh, well, thank God they
don't have that attitude in Paris.
Oh, man!
Son, I could die a
happy man right now.
Al Bundy, have
you, uh, any words
for the assembled
villagers here?
My people,
today I feel...
like the luckiest man
on the face of the earth.
As you know, I played
high school football.
I was great.
And I know you kids out there
would like to be just
as great as I was,
but beware.
There's a killer out
there, a temptation.
It infests your country
the same as mine.
It'll eat up your money
and your will to live.
I know you've
heard about it before,
but you can't hear
about it enough.
Kids, please just say no
to marriage.
Uh, Dad, I've got a gut
feeling they're gonna kill us.
I'm trying to talk here, son.
Football builds men...
Oh, enough of
this football drone!
Kill them!
Kill them! Kill them!
Kill them! Kill them!
Son, I'm beginning
to think you were right.
Forsooth, woodsmen,
spare those men.
Fear not, Daddy,
there's no business
like show business.
Hi-yo, Silverware, away!
Well, I just saved
your worthless hides,
and I think I deserve a hearty
"Good job, Kelly, thank you."
Well, you might have
gotten a nice thank you
if you didn't say we
could travel faster
if we lightened the load,
then unhitched the horse.
Well, he did go
faster, didn't he?
So should we, 'cause
here they come.
Kill the Bundys!
Kill the Bundys!
Kill the Bundys!
Kill the Bundys!
They've stopped.
We must be safe.
Well, we are safe.
A man told me to bring you here.
What man?
That man...
holding a gun
and pointing it at us
with a whole load
of townspeople.
Uh, don't worry, Al.
Whatever happens,
I'll be right by your side.
The women are free to go.
We only want to kill the men.
Have a nice life, Al.
I hope your death is
less painful than your life.
Bye, Daddy.
Hey.
Come over to our side, yeah?
Yeah. Your death'll be quicker.
No. Come to our side.
At least we won't
eat you afterwards.
That is an ugly rumor started
by people who are jealous.
Besides, it... It's
dark over here.
We couldn't tell.
I mean, it's hard to know
what we were eating.
Wh...? Why aren't
they killing us, Dad?
I don't know, son.
We must be on the borderline.
Right, then. I'll settle this.
Now then, come over here
or your wife and
daughter are through.
You fool.
That didn't work with
the other Bundys, either.
All right,
we'll just wait them out.
Thank you.
It was really nice
meeting you. Thanks.
Thanks.
Oh, thanks for such a good time.
Now, you really
must come to America
and experience our theater.
Jefferson...
come on.
I'm sick of the theatre, Marcie.
Let's go get somethin' to eat.
There's a nice place
across the street,
The Whipped Puppy.
Mmm, sounds good to me.
Now listen, I have wired
my mother for money,
but this was the only
address I had to give her
so I guess we'll just
have to sit and wait.
Well, that could take hours.
What are we gonna
do in the meantime?
Bad Americans?
Bad Americans.
Dad, I just want to say it
was brave of you to say:
"Take me and let
the boy go free."
I didn't say that, son.
Don't you think it would
be a good time to do it?
Why would I say that?
What better way to die
than with my only son?
I love you, Dad.
Yeah, right.
But I feel this
is the right time
for a final father-son chat.
Great. Much better than my
dream of dying in the saddle.
Don't make me push
you off the borderline.
I won't be able to die in peace
until I've been
able to pass down
the accumulated
wisdom of my lifetime.
So listen, son, and listen good.
Ah, never mind.
Oh, we're getting nowhere.
Let's just beat them with clubs
and see which side
they collapse on.
Oh, no, no. No, no, no, no.
What if one of
them fell your side
and one of them
fell our side? Huh?
Be in a fine pickle
then, wouldn't we?
Look, I'm sure we could work
out something mutually beneficial.
Oh, right.
We have them killed on your
side and you promise to share.
But you won't, will ya?
You can't trust a light-dweller.
Moon people! Sun people!
Maybe we're taking
rather a narrow view of this.
Maybe we should be looking at it
from the point of view of
true entrepreneurs, right?
All right, look, it's the
grave of the Bundy
whose death ended a
400-year-old curse, hm?
That's gotta be worth
a little bit, hasn't it?
Custard sales.
Right.
Banners.
"My dad saw Al Bundy killed, and
all I got was this lousy T-shirt" T-shirts.
Perfect, I love it.
Partners.
Partners.
Peace has been found
after all these years.
Oh!
Kill 'em.
Wait... W-w-wait. Wait
guys, before you shoot,
I just wanna say one thing.
The blond over there is a boy.
Come on. It's not that
dark over here, lad.
Well, uh... Uh... E-e-excuse me.
While we're all in
such a jovial mood,
may I offer just a...
A little suggestion?
See, I-I think a great
idea would be pretending
to have killed the last Bundy.
Yes, well, I'm... I'm sure
something could be worked out.
I mean, we're not barbarians.
We're not the French.
Well, I demand vengeance.
Shamus McBundy insulted my
great-great-great-grandmother,
and I want revenge.
Hey, I'll buy you an Orange
Julius in London, buddy.
That's a brilliant idea. Okay.
Igor, you kill the big one
and in a typical rush
of English bloodlust,
we all kill the rest of 'em.
W-wait a second.
That's not fair.
I was once a mighty athlete,
and I demand to
go out like a man.
All right. What about
a... A medieval joust?
Just think of the
promotional possibilities, hm?
Buttons. Fanny packs.
Videotapes for the spectators.
Hey, Igor, before you kill him,
try and do something
funny with him, all right?
Then we can sell a
separate wacky blooper reel.
Oh, Al, do it.
I love those.
A medieval joust it is then.
They will fight to the
death in Upper Uncton.
Uh... But... Pfft,
why Upper Uncton?
Well, we could hardly film ever
in your village, now could we?
Was that another "dark" crack?
Let's not get testy.
We've got a man to kill.
Al, I'm afraid.
Don't worry, babe.
This Igor don't look
too tough to me.
Well, it's not him
I'm worried about.
They're gonna be filming,
and I left my bright-sun
makeup in the castle.
And you guys thought
you were cursed.
I can't believe my life depends
on Dad's ability to joust.
Well, it's better that than
his ability to earn a living.
And besides, who says Igor's
any good at this jousting stuff?
So long, Tiny Toon.
Uh, come on, Al.
It's time to go.
What could that man
be doing in there?
I think he's getting
into his battle gear.
Let's joust.
Al.
Uh, honey, before your death...
I mean, uh, certain victory.
There's really something
that I must say to you.
What is it, babe?
Do you have our return tickets?
You know, just in case
you lose 'em during your, uh,
"victory dance."
Don't worry about me, babe,
I played high-school football.
Besides, if I should die,
it will comfort me greatly
to know you'll be
stuck here for life.
Wish me luck, kids.
Oh, what good would it do?
Pumpkin, what do
you have to say?
Daddy's dying.
Well, that's comforting.
Let the tournament commence.
Pennants. Get
your Igor pennants.
Get your "I saw Al
Bundy die" T-shirts.
Here you are, sir,
one for the lady wife.
Here you go.
A couple for the kiddies.
Lovely, smashing.
That's it.
All right, very good.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Let's get ready to rumble!
Welcome to the
thumpin' in Upper Uncton.
On my left,
five-time all-European
undefeated jousting champion
going by the name of Igor
"The Truth" Deathshire.
And on my right,
from the Windy City of Chicago,
U.S.A.,
Al "Stink-foot" Bundy.
When I say begin, begin.
Begin.
Go back to England, Igor!
I can't look. How's he doing?
He's doing great.
What do you mean,
Dad's doing great?
Dad? I thought you meant Igor.
Okay.
Enough rope-a-dope.
Let's rock.
Now for the deathblow.
Next time you play a man's
game, wear a man's uniform.
And the next time
you insult an American,
make sure he didn't
play high-school football.
Oof!
Now let's rock.
You stink, Bundy!
Ooh!
You did it! You did it!
It was so great. Yay! Yeah.
Oh, Al.
Well, this is a fine
how-do-you-do.
What do we do now?
Well, I suppose we'll
just have to, uh, flip a coin
to see which side
we kill him on.
Look, it's the sun.
It's coming out
over Lower Uncton.
The curse must have been
lifted when Bundy defeated Igor.
Hooray for Al Bundy!
Oh, Al.
Oh, yay!
This is terrible.
We've always prospered
as a... As a tourist attraction.
"The town next to
the land of darkness."
Now we have nothing.
Uh, what about us? I mean,
now you can see. Look.
We've got no crops.
There's no paint on the stores.
We're just a couple of little
burgs in the middle of nowhere.
We can't sell any T-shirts now.
We can't even sell the
bloody video we made.
He's ruined everything, he has.
Let's kill him.
Why not?
Let's kill the whole
bloody lot of 'em.
Go! ALL: Yeah!
Vacation's over.
Thank your father, kids.
BUD & KELLY Thanks, Dad.
Americans coming through.
Excuse me. 'Scuse me. 'Scuse us.
- Americans coming through.
- Please move.
Excuse us. Excuse us.
Move. Move. Excuse me.
Excuse us. Excuse me, pardon me.
Americans coming
through. Excuse us... Oh.
Hi, you made it.
Hi. Yeah.
So how did you enjoy London?
Oh, it was great, Peggy.
We managed to take
in a lot of, uh, theater.
Oh, my goodness.
Someone has switched
our luggage and given us
many erotic forms of punishment.
But rather than hold
these good people up,
we'll be glad to pay the duty.
Do you have anything to declare?
Yes. My husband is an idiot.
Come on, kids.
Mom, what happened to Dad?
Oh, he got caught
stealing a hotel towel.
Hm, like he'll ever use it.
What do you think
they'll do to him?
Oh, please, it's a hotel towel.
What can they do?
What are you in for?
Stole an ashtray from the Ritz.
You?
Towel from the Savoy.
What do they feed ya in here?
Bread and water.
Then it's truly the best
vacation I've ever had.