Married with Children (1986–1997): Season 7, Episode 10 - Death of a Shoe Salesman - full transcript

Isn't this great?

Ah, look at the Duke.

One of his finest films:

I Shoot 'Em 'Cause
They're Injuns.

As a woman viewer,

what's your opinion, pumpkin?

Daddy, I would
rather be reading.

Does that tell you anything?

It tells me you're a girl.

Which means your opinion
means less to me than the dog's.

Bud, what do you think?



Well, Dad, I'm
thinking this Duke guy

walks a lot like you

when you have to
go to the bathroom.

I copied that walk.

'Cause I figured the
reason he does it like that

is 'cause no one in these
movies ever goes to the bathroom.

That's what the folks in
show biz called subtext.

Now, I wonder what
kind of toilet paper

they used to use
in the Old West.

Thank you for getting
him started on this.

Oh, my God. It's the Duke.

Now he's gonna start wondering
when they went to the bathroom.

And who invented
the toilet bowl.

I tell ya, it'd make
a better movie



than that damn Columbus.

I mean, after all,
America was already here.

It takes some thought
to think up a toilet bowl.

Dad, does this Duke
guy still make movies?

No.

Duke is dead.

Well, what about
that guy, Daddy?

Does he still make movies?

Blackie Rabinowitz,
king of the bad guys.

Alas, he's dead too.

And what about the white
guy playing the Indian?

He's dead.

What about the white
guy playing the black guy?

Dead.

And him? Dead.

And him? Dead.

They're all dead.

Everyone in every
movie I like is dead.

Only me and Charlton
Heston are still alive.

Wait, look, it's Fuzzy.

See him, with his
hat turned sideways?

That's how you
know he's a sidekick.

Look at this, Fuzzy's riding his
mule, Dadgummit, backwards.

Ha-ha-ha.

Fuzzy McGee, the
greatest of the sidekicks.

Now, look. He's
gonna chaw, then spit.

Yeah! He's hitting
that mule on the foot.

Now watch, now watch.
He's gonna go, "Whoa."

Whoa!

Fuzzy McGee, he's still alive.

Matter of fact,
he's still working.

He just made a commercial
just the other day.

You know, that one for
adult diapers: Soak 'Ems.

You remember.

"For when you just can't
quite say 'whoa' anymore."

Ah, Fuzzy McGee.

He'll outlive us all.

We interrupt Western
Geezer Theater

for a special announcement.

Chicago's beloved Fuzzy McGee,

better known to our younger
viewers as Sheriff Soak 'Ems,

died today.

Fuzzy is survived by his
trusty mule, Dadgummit.

I can't believe it.

Everybody's dead.

Makes you think
about things, Peg.

Life and death,

where we're headed,
what's it all mean?

Why, when a woman's
shoe size is nine,

her sock size is 10 to 13.

It just doesn't make any sense.

I think that's the one
that bothers me the most.

Don't worry, honey.

You know, men have
confusing sizes too.

I mean, look how big your
thumbs are and yet, uh,

hm...

Fuzzy McGee.

Fuzzy was married three times.

He had 10 children
and 22 grandchildren.

Not to mention millions of
fans all around the world.

Never was a man so beloved.

Well, I guess we're all here.

Anyhow, he died.

So will you. So will I.

I'm depressed, I'm going home.

Well, boy, I guess, uh,

you and me are the
only one who cares.

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

Well, I guess it is up to I

to speak at Fuzzy's
last roundup.

Fuzzy McGee.

There was a man.

And a great sidekick.

Where are today's sidekicks?

Oh, the potential of
a young Rick Moranis

or a Steve Guttenberg

or Martin Short.

Oh, the goofy, limping,
word-mispronouncing sidekicks

they could be.

But instead they
wanna be stars. W...

Good luck.

Short couldn't even hold
his own in Three Amigos.

But Fuzzy knew his place.

He was a sidekick.

He was a wuzzy-wuzzy
sidekick, wasn't he?

He really was.

Well, Fuzzman,
this one's for you.

♪ Happy trails to you ♪

♪ Until we meet again ♪

♪ Happy trails to you ♪

Excuse me, sir.

My grandfather died.

He loved "O Sole Mio."

Two dollars, you sing to him?

♪ O sole mio ♪

♪ O so... ♪

We're talking about
cash, right? Si.

♪ O sole mio ♪

Oh.

Peg, good news.

They've raised minimum
wage for the bald?

You don't deserve it,
but I'll tell you in a second.

I've been singing all day
and my throat is parched.

Mm.

Mm-mm.

Mm.

Mm?

Mm. Does a body good.

Wait a sec, got some
milk stuck in my teeth, Peg.

Peg,

I need to talk to you.

After watching that movie the
other night, it made me think

about where I wanna
spend my final resting place.

So I went right out today and
I bought a plot. I couldn't wait.

Because I've
decided that I wanna

spend eternity next to
someone that I really, really love.

Oh, Al.

So I decided to be
buried next to old Fuzzy.

Oh, honey.

And the mule.

Oh, sweetheart.

You know, honey, they
really don't need their own plot.

Very sweet of you to
think of them, though.

Hell are you talking about?

I'm gonna be buried

next to Fuzzy McGee
and Dadgummit the mule.

Well, what about me?

Ah, come on, Al.

Let me be dead with you.

You know, we never do
anything together anymore.

If this is the way
you repay my love,

when you die, I'm
gonna bury you in a dress

with white hose that
make your legs look thick.

Hi. Hi.

We were just wondering,
do you know where Seven is?

No.

Well, let me put
your mind at rest.

He's been living with
us for the last three days.

He walked in and wouldn't leave.

He's improving slowly.

He still can't read, write,
or use a knife and fork,

but he has learned how
to chant "Kill the Bundys"

with the other neighbors.

If you don't mind, we were
thinking of renaming him Henry,

after my father.

Sure, that's okay.
What do we care?

Do what you want.

What we want is for
you to come and get him.

He's irritating.

He calls us Dad

and Little Dad.

Marcy, we don't
have time for this now.

We are in the middle
of an argument.

Al doesn't wanna
be buried next to me.

Isn't that the most ridiculous
thing you've ever heard?

Well, frankly, yes.

I think when two people take
the marriage vows, it's sacred.

That's why I'm going to be
buried next to my husband Steve.

Uh, uh...

My name is Jefferson.

And I'm your husband now.
And, oh... And by the way,

we are not in bed, so there's
no excuse for calling me Steve.

He is your ex-husband.

Oh, don't take it personally.

Every woman screams out "Steve"
during sex. Don't they, Peggy?

Not me, it's too long a name.

Oh, now, don't pout.

You've got all this now,
you're already in heaven.

Oh, God.

Why worry about later?

Oh, so I'm just the one
who's sharing a bed with you

in these, your declining years.

Marcy, I want you to take
care of me when I'm dead.

I want my hair done
by my own hairdresser,

not the guy down
at the mortuary.

You know, the guy
who does Al's hair.

I'm warning you, Marcy.

I'm not gonna soap
up and dance for you

until this is provided for.

You have to tonight,
my mother's coming.

Marcy, I made that
videotape for her

so she wouldn't
have to come over.

Oh, I'm telling you, I think I
feel a headache coming on.

Oh, all right. You know
I can't say no to you.

Mm. Mm.

Oh, Steve.

Steve?

All right, we are going home,

and I am gonna rock the Steve

out of you, baby.

It always works.

Why don't you ever rock me, Al?

'Cause I'd rather stone you.

You know, Peg,
I've been thinking,

I got one pair of
clean underwear

from that three-pack you
bought me in the spring of '79.

I'd like to be buried in that.

Fine.

Impress Fuzzy with the
underwear that I bought you

for our 13th anniversary.

You know, you male
corpses are all alike.

Never a thought for the woman

who spent her life
getting you into that grave.

You have no idea
what it's like out there.

A dead woman alone.

No man is interested
in a dead woman.

And if he is, he wants
a dead young woman.

Heh. Boy, my life is over.

I'm gonna be a dead woman
with children. Oh, my God.

Who will want to marry a
dead woman with children?

Maybe Mickey Rooney.

Yeah, by the time I'm dead,

I'll be lucky if
it's Andy Rooney.

I'm not kidding, Al. I
wanna be buried with you.

I feel a whine coming
on. Oh, God, no.

Yep, yep, I feel it
coming. Hey, no.

Al!

Al!

I don't wanna be alone.

You don't love me.

Oh, all right, Peg!

You've already
ruined my whole life,

you may as well ruin my death.

Oh, Al. Heh-heh-heh.

"Oh, Al," indeed.

Here's a fine casket.

Very nice.

And this one is top of the line.

Solid bronze,

with a comfy velvet lining.

Oh, my God, there's
a dead man in it.

Harry, he looks like
somebody dug him up.

How long was I out?

Gee, they must have
smelled you father's socks.

Mom, if I may be so bold,

set aside the funds you
were gonna spend today

and trust us to
handle the details

when the dark day comes.

Wait, I thought you said we
were gonna throw 'em on the grill

and flush their
ashes down the toilet.

Have you changed your mind?

What, are you getting soft?

You two scamps certainly
have a fine sense of humor.

Well, it's... Yeah.

Honey, we have to buy
and we have to buy today.

So you like this one?

Yes, I do. Well, I don't.

I'd like to see something else.

We need a little
more room up top.

You know, for my hair.

Oh, yes, well,

with a little customizing,
we can give you a bubble top.

Designed to bring big
hair safely into eternity.

Gee, Al, I have a bubble top.

And you will as long as
they make strong bras.

Oh...

You love the guys.

I do.

I must say, you two are
planning your funeral a bit early.

You must have some
terminal disease.

Yes, uh,

marriage.

Ah, yes, we get
quite a few of those.

Most people feel that marriage

eases the transition to death.

If you'll excuse me, I
see some customers.

So we are gonna
burn them to a crisp?

Yes, that's what I was trying...

Say, you kids dying? Heh-heh.

No, virgins are just pale.

Thus, the healthy
hue on her face.

So you're brother and sister.

Well, it's never too
early to plan your funeral.

With the world being
what it is today, let's face it,

you kids don't stand a chance.

I can't say that I'm not
pleased about it, though.

A lot of young people are
planning their funeral nowadays.

It's the hep thing to do.

In the funeral business,
we say: "Can you dig it?"

Sir, you are one cool ghoul.

Yes, indeedy-oso.
Let's talk coffin, shall we?

Ah. This one just
screams you, young fellow.

This is our Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle coffin.

I understand Michael
Jackson got one for Macaulay.

Shh. It's a surprise.

Oh, my brother
doesn't need a coffin.

You can just put
him into a Trix box.

She only says that
'cause I do it like a bunny.

Kids, don't you think that Daddy

should wear his wedding
ring when he's dead?

I married you till
death do us part.

Which means when
I'm dead, I'm free to date.

This is it?

This is your final
resting place?

Well, there's no spot for me.

That's why it's
called a resting place.

Well, it sucks.

I wanna be buried above ground.

I don't like all those
insects bothering me.

They always bite me.

It's 'cause I'm so sweet.

Maybe it's because
of the 200 bonbons

she puts away every week.

I want another spot.

Well, Fine, Peg, get
yourself another spot.

But I have my spot.

I'm going to be buried
next to the Fuzzball.

You'd better let me
know if you don't want it.

Because Fuzzy McGee was
considered a genius in France.

I believe they called
him Le Grand Fuzz.

And when news of
his passing hits Paris,

this place will be swarming with
a lot ruder people than you two.

I was smart to buy when I did.

Would you tuck that big
hair back into your nose.

Now do you see why I ordered
a bubble top for him too?

You know, by the way,

I have heard that
your nose hairs

continue to grow after death.

So could you bury him face up?

That way, the nose hairs
can sort of break through

and it'll be like we
have our own tree.

And it'll be free.

Anyway, I wanna
be buried next to Al.

So this is what we're gonna do:

We're just gonna
move Fuzzy over.

Who's got that one next to him?

That's reserved for
his beloved mule.

Heh. Well, certainly
we can move the mule.

We'll just chop him up

and bury him in some
crummy cans of dog food.

That way, everybody's a winner.

Then, we dig up the Fuzzster,

put him into the mule hole,

and I will go here.

Then Al and I can
be together forever.

W... Hasn't it
already been forever?

Honey, just
pretend we're in bed,

and let me take
care of everything.

How much for everything?

All right, let's see.

That's bubble tops,

digging up dead man,

ignoring deceased's last wish,

grinding up mule into pulp.

Tax plus tip.

Let's say $27,000.

Well, uh, we might
have to cut out a few frills.

Um, how much is it

if it's just for the two
plots and you toss us in?

That depends. Are we
doing the digging, or are you?

Well, I figured the wife would.

Let's cut to the
bottom of the grave, sir.

What do you have to spend?

A hundred dollars.

You looky-loos.

It's people like you who
take the joy out of death.

Oh, say,

you folks look real sick.

And your daughter looks
like she'd be mighty grateful

to save a buck, if
you know what I mean.

Peg, it's a shame.

We don't have enough
money to bury you. Heh-heh.

But I'm gonna be dead alone.

Oh, man, I can't wait.

Well, what about me?

Well, Peg, I don't
care about you,

you work it out for yourself.

Bury yourself wherever
you want, I'm not moving.

Well, Fuzzy, just
me and you now.

Thank God, she'd
have driven you crazy.

And, by the way, in
case you overheard,

I never would have let
her move Dadgummit.

I love that damn mule.

Hey, by the way, we
might be getting a tree.

Oh, man, the time
we're gonna have.

I'll tell you about all my
high-school football stories

and you can tell me where
they used to go to the bathroom

in the Old West.

My guess is it's by the
horse, so you could blame him.

Okay, Al. We took
care of everything.

And it's only gonna
cost you $100.

It doesn't involve moving me?

Nope, you can stay right
where you are, next to Fuzzy.

Fine, then I don't care.

What are you doing, Peg?

Well, I'm just showing
you where I'm gonna be.

We're gonna share a grave.

They're gonna stack
us. Isn't that great?

And whoever dies
first is on the bottom.

Well, that'll be me!

I know!