Married with Children (1986–1997): Season 6, Episode 8 - God's Shoes - full transcript

Dad's coming. Dad's coming.

Now, don't giggle.
You'll give it away.

He's not supposed to know

Mom commissioned a
painting of herself for $2500.

Really. Don't.

Okay, okay. Did you
leave the price tag on?

No, really. Really, don't.

This could kill him, you know.

Wait. Bud, don't we
have a loyalty to the man?

That's a good one.

Shh, shh, shh. I
think he's coming.



Okay, keep a
straight face. Okay.

Hi, kids.

What?

What?

Nothing, I guess we
just love you so much.

I've had a rotten day,
and I'm in a foul mood.

A fat woman came in and
said she was a size five.

I shoved her hoof into a shoe,

my thumb got stuck
in the back of the shoe.

She panicked, reared up,
and galloped around the store,

dragging me on
the floor behind her.

Thank God a stick of
butter popped out her purse.

I was able to grease
my way out of there.

You know, we can't
do this to the man.



We have to warn him.

Daddy? What?

Nothing.

Oh, by the way, is
your mom upstairs?

No, Dad.

Good. Thank goodness I
don't have to look at her tonight.

Feet. Women.
Women's feet. Women.

Painting?

I don't understand.

Now, surely you'd think
he'd be screaming by now.

Well, maybe we don't
give Dad enough credit.

I mean, maybe he realizes

that he's been
neglecting Mom lately

and he's probably pondering
that now as he gazes fondly

upon the face of
his one true love.

Oh, no!

Or maybe not.

How do you feel, Daddy?

Like any man who
just fell two stories

and landed on his head.

I'm grateful not to
be with your mother.

How long was I out?

Two hours.

Well, why didn't you call 911?

I couldn't remember the number.

Well, it doesn't matter.

Do you know what happened
when I was unconscious?

Well, yeah. Kelly opened a
Coors bottle with your teeth.

Don't listen to him,
Dad. It was only a soda.

You had some too.

Shut up. Right in front
of Dad. You started it.

Oh, please. It doesn't
matter what you did.

It only matters that
I actually saw God.

Okay.

Kel, he may not be able
to sell shoes anymore,

but we can get him a gig
going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.

But I really did see him.

Look, Dad, please don't
tell anybody else about this,

because nobody is
dumb enough to believe...

What did God look like, Dad?

I don't know.

I couldn't take my
eyes off his shoes.

You saw God's shoes?

They were perfect, kids.

Close-fitting, surrounding
each toe individually.

Probably a
soft-worked kid leather.

Well, what did you say to God?

I said, "Where'd you
get those shoes?"

You had one chance to
talk to the eternal creator

of time, space and
the infinite universe,

and all you asked is
where he got his shoes?

Well, did you tell him
your football stories?

It was God, you idiot.

He knows my football stories.

Actually, I asked him
something very important.

I said, what socks did he wear?
And you know what he said?

"Don't need 'em.

They're sewed in."

Zowee.

Must I be the meat in
an imbecile sandwich?

Bud, this is important.

Now, Daddy, the next
time that you talk to God,

ask him who's really
buying Dockers.

Come on. God can't be
concerned with these trivialities.

We're talking shoes here.

Now, kids, I now know
what my mission in life is.

God chose me to
make the perfect shoes.

God's shoes.

Kids, bring me pen
and paper at once.

Thank you. Take
this down quickly.

Thou shalt have shoes
with toes stitched in.

Thou shalt have socks
attacheth to yon shoes.

And thou shalt have
a lot of other stuff

that will come forthwith.

It is I.

I, Al Bundy,

who shall shod the
unwashed masses.

I shalt not rest
until every foot

sings the praises
of thine shoes.

Hallelujah, I say. Hallelujah!

I don't think I've ever
been prouder of him.

Well, God created both of you.
Think of the pride he's feeling.

So let us understand.

Your father has locked
himself in his room

to build God's shoes.

And Peggy?

Well, sensing Dad's
delicate condition,

she took back the painting,

kept the money and
went to the Mardi gras.

He's really been up there
40 days and 40 nights?

Well, actually, 40
days and 39 nights.

He took a break to watch
Planet of the D Cups.

He said God told him to.

Think he'll be all
right, Mrs. D'Arcy?

How much worse can he be?

Behold, I hold God's shoes.

But who holds Dad's brain?

Yea, so it cameth to be

that I labored 40
days and 40 nights.

Let the rains come.
Thou shalt have shoe.

This should do wonders
for my property value.

Are thine worthy to
gaze upon yon shoe?

Brush your teeth.

Nobody cares about
your stupid shoes,

and nobody for a
minute believes...

Let me gaze upon the shoes, Al.

Surely you cannot be
serious! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Marcie, don't you understand?

Don't you see the
glory and the majesty

of what I just saw?

The perfect marketing hook.

And I'm in on the ground floor.
I can see the billboards now.

"Al knows God, and
God knows shoes."

It's a sales bonanza, Marcie.

How much money do we have?

Well, I have several
thousand dollars.

You have change for coffee.

I shall go forth unto the
people to reveal God's shoes.

♪ And multiply upon them ♪

Let me come with
you, Al, and learn.

How much are we
gonna charge per pair?

I will hear nothing of price.

That's your job. You're
the marketing guy.

Right.

Yeah, babe, this
is Grandmaster B.

I was wondering if
you'd like to join me

in the back seat
of a moving vehicle

for a ride so wild
you gots to be 21.

Uh, yes, that was my father
walking the freeway in his robe.

Goodbye.

Boy, you know, they talk
about an illiterate society.

Well, it seems to me that
everyone reads the newspaper.

Well, I don't, and I
still believe in Dad.

Well, not quite as much
as I did with his failure

to walk across Lake Michigan
to spread the shoe to Canada,

but he is going into
production on these shoes.

Five thousand pairs.

Wonder where he got the money.

Did I leave my new
Rolex over here?

God, I am just so
scatterbrained lately.

I mean, first, I
misplace my watch.

And then I can't
seem to remember

this $25,000 check
made out to cash

that I seemed to have written
in someone else's handwriting.

By the way, has anyone seen
my soon-to-be-late husband?

Well, who wants to
touch the prototypes?

We got thousands of these babies

rolling off the
assembly line now.

Uh, Jefferson,

before I tell the baby
why its father is buried

in four or five separate graves,

can you tell me where
every cent I have is?

Advertising, baby. Hm?

We contacted all the big talk
shows too about having Al on.

He should be on any minute.

Just what big-time talk
show did you book him onto?

Welcome back to Scary Mary's
Real Scary Mummy Movie Matinee.

Now, before we get
back to our feature called

What's That in the Bathroom?,

we have a special
treat for you kids.

Our special guest is Al
Bundy, shoe salesman.

I've seen this
show. It's excellent.

This is what you booked him on?

Well, every time I called
Oprah it seemed to be lunchtime.

We're on our way,
baby. We're on our way.

Kids, Al here says
that he was scared

out of his bedroom window

by a picture of his wife.

Al says he saw God
after he hit the pavement.

Uh, then what happened, Al?

Well, Scary Mary,

I saw God's shoes.

Tell us all about it, Al.

Well, Mary, believe it or not,

people mock me for me
having seen God's shoes.

They throw things,
shoot pellets at me,

sic dogs at me...

And don't think I don't know
some of you kids out there

are the ones responsible
for it. I'll get you, I swear.

But I just persevere
with my message.

Uh-huh. Well,

there you have
it, boys and girls.

Al Bundy.

You might want to check
under your beds for him tonight.

And now, back to our movie.

Wait a second. I was told I
could sell my shoes on the show.

Your producers promised me.

Look, buddy, what
do you want from me?

I'm just a hand
in a crummy sock.

Well, you'll be a sock
full of bloody knuckles

if I don't get to
peddle my shoes here!

I'm on a holy mission.

Hey, stagehand!
Stagehands over here...

Well, they're God's shoes
and they're real comfortable.

See, the socks
are already built in.

Kids, if you're by the phone...
See? I wear them myself. See?

911. Can we get
that on the screen?

I'll kill you,
Mary! I'll kill you!

Sell it, baby, sell it. Oh,
next stop, Ted Koppel.

I bet Koppel gives
him the whole half-hour.

Well, maybe 15 minutes.

The rest will be taken up

by the "Headless Man
Found in Lake" story.

When did that
happen? Soon, honey.

Point your staff at them,
Dad. Turn them all into snakes.

That's not a staff, Kel.

It's a branch one of the
neighborhood kids threw at him.

Well, what's the difference?

He's still got the shoe pointed
at a camera. Way to go, buddy.

Idiot.

You sunk all of my money
into this man's vision?

Hey, trust me
just a little, babe.

This is just to get
him to loosen up

in front of the camera.

I'm gonna plaster his
face all over the tube.

Welcome to People to Laugh At.

I'm Dr. Jonathan Blue.

Today's panel is
made up of people

who have had head injuries
and claim to have seen God.

Let's start with Bob here.

Well, I was eating
in this restaurant

and this waitress hits
me in the head with a tray,

and I saw God in
my hot and sour soup.

He told me, "Don't
order the meat loaf."

Good, Bob. Lola?

I fell off this table
I was dancing on,

and there he was.

I gave him change for a 5.

Thank you, Lola.

And now, not just a
man who saw God,

but a man who's actually
gone into business with him:

Al Bundy.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I will demonstrate
the power of the shoes.

I shall release them, and...

So you may see them
hover and fly about me.

Aw.

That's great, Al.

Let's get to some
callers, shall we?

Our first caller is Jerry,
a trucker from Iowa.

What would you like to ask
of those who've been touched?

I'd like to see
the girlie dance.

We'll just go to
our next caller.

Derrick from Peoria.

Derrick, do you have a question
about an out-of-body experience?

Yeah, I got this '85 Bonneville

and the side moldings
just won't stay on...

Uh... Uh, Derrick, that's
out-of-body experience,

not auto-body experience.

Oh.

Well, can I see
the girlie dance?

Uh, doc, I think we've
got another caller.

Oh. Okay, okay.
Go ahead, caller.

Yeah, this is for the
insane guy with the shoes.

Yes?

My name is Bu...

Uh, Bub. Yeah, Bub.

Listen, did you ever once think

what your insanity is
doing to your family?

Especially your son.

Put on your pants,
for heaven's sake.

Go to work, you bum.

Bud?

Bud, is that you?

I'm warning you, Dad.
I will not live like this.

Don't you understand it's
hard enough to get a date...

These people are morons.
Let's go to the next caller.

No more calls?

Okay, baby, dance.

Hm. All in all, not bad.

Well, come on, babe.

I still think this God angle's
gonna bring in the suckers.

Oh, please.

The only thing
biblical about this

is the proportion
of its failure.

If I might be so old
as to interject here.

Now, I will grant you that God's
shoes is somewhat, well, silly.

But not any sillier
than the pet rock,

the mood ring,

or, of course, NBC's
Sunday night lineup.

Now, the point here is:

Why don't we just
give Dad a chance?

It might just work.

Why didn't it work?

Because it was a
stupid idea, Daddy.

I mean, if we think about it,

God probably doesn't
even need shoes.

He can afford good carpeting.

And if he ever needed anything,

like a Big Gulp or
batteries or something,

I'm sure the
7-Elevens up in heaven

don't have those signs that say:

"No shirt, no
shoes, no service."

And even if they did,

who's gonna yank a Slim
Jim out of God's mouth?

Or is all this just kind
of going over your head?

Heh, no, honey. No, it's not.

It's just dancing
around in there

with some of your
other ponderings.

You know, like, "What
would a chair look like

if our knees were in
the back of our legs?"

I made a teacher
retire with that one.

Yeah, ha-ha.

Oh, well, now, at
least there's something.

What, Daddy?

They're repossessing
Marcie's car.

I didn't know they
had a hood ornament.

Oh, no, that's just
what's left of Jefferson.

Well, at least he's
out of his pain now.

You know, I sense you're
getting down on yourself, Daddy,

and that's wrong.

I mean, look on the bright side.

Most men with
your string of failures

would have long since
have tasted the cold,

cruel blade of his
own Ginsu by now.

But not you, Daddy.

You keep trying and that's
what makes you Daddy, Daddy.

And as long as you don't tell
any of my friends, I love you.

Well, thank you, pumpkin.

That makes old
Dad feel a lot better.

Aw, attadaddy.

See, that's what I
was talking about.

Most men wouldn't
bother to flap their arms,

but you keep trying.

Daddy?

You again.

You're God?

No.

I'm Sidney Rimhollow.

I was a shoe salesman
outside of Tulsa.

I got the idea for these
shoes back in 1925.

Didn't sell a one.

But luckily, I had a loving
wife and two children

who hired a hit man to kill me.

Well, why didn't you tell
me the shoes were no good?

Well, y-you thought I was
God. So I went along with it.

You're not gonna get
away with it. I'm telling God.

Where is he? No,
no, no, no, no, no.

He can't be disturbed.

He's watching Knots Landing.

I always wondered why that
show was never canceled.

Well, where's my cloud,
my harp and my virgin?

Sorry, Al, you're not dead yet.

Aw.

But this time we're not
sending you back empty-handed.

Listen, I got this idea...

So you see, kids,

there's really no reason to
worry about me anymore.

I have divine guidance now.

Sid and I put our heads together
and came up with a new idea.

Shoehorn of Plenty.

See, kids, it's kind
of a combination:

shoe store and burger joint.

While you eat, you try on shoes.

Oh, by the way,

did I say that the burgers
coming down the chute

will be shaped like a shoehorn?

No, Dad, you didn't.

Oh, well, I can't take
credit for that idea.

That was John Wayne.

But you know what
our motto's gonna be?

"If you're not shod,
the meal's on God."

I guess that'll put to rest
those rumors of my insanity.