Married with Children (1986–1997): Season 8, Episode 23 - The Legend of Ironhead Haynes - full transcript
When another complaint from a fat woman at the shoe store results in Al losing his parking space and being reprimanded not to insult anymore fat women, he, Jefferson and the rest of his mens club NO MA'AM seek out a legendary guru macho man to teach them how to battle political correctness. Meanwhile, Peggy, Kelly and Bud hide a secret refrigerator full of food from Al.
Mmm. Great sandwich, Mom.
Oh, yeah.
We should all be grateful
to our late Aunt Stumpy
for leaving us her
refrigerator full of food.
Well, she didn't
exactly leave it to us.
I mean, we took it
off the back porch
while everyone else
was at the funeral.
Don't you think we should
tell Dad about the fridge?
Oh, no.
I'm sure he made out fine.
It was an open casket.
He probably got the watch.
Oh... refrigerator's
hidden in the garage.
Dad'll never know it's there.
It's concealed so well
even a clever man
wouldn't be able to find it.
I hate those complaint
boxes they put in at the mall.
A woman comes in
the shoe store today,
so huge she's
protected by Greenpeace
and asked for a size four shoe.
So, I asked her if she
wants to eat them there,
or take them home.
And she has the nerve to
complain about my performance.
Honey, I complain
about your performance
all the time and you don't care.
Sometimes you
don't even wake up.
Unlike sex with you,
this is important to me.
The mall manager is threatening
to take away the
only joy I have at work.
They're shutting
off the plumbing?
The other joy.
They're threatening to
take away my parking space.
The one that's closer than
all the other employees,
because I've been
there the longest.
Oh, so you'll have to
walk an extra half mile.
It won't kill ya.
Oh, no, Peg, it won't kill me.
That's your job.
But I earned that parking spot.
It's mine.
I started at the end
of the lot by the street,
where it helps to speak Spanish.
And ten years later, or
should I say "diez años,"
they finally put my
name on the best spot.
"Al Budny."
I was so happy, but now,
if I insult one more woman
before the end of the month,
they're gonna take my spot away.
Maybe you should
just call in sick
for the next 27 days.
Oh, no, no, no.
We can't afford that.
Then they'd dock his pay
and we'd be out hundreds
and hundreds of loose change.
Loose change!
Well, all I know is
I am not giving up
my parking space
without a fight.
Anyone can go three weeks
without insulting a woman.
Betcha five dollars you can't.
I will take that bet, you
bonbon-binging bozo!
Mr. Bundy, since you
lose your parking spot
if you get one more complaint,
maybe I should take
care of a certain segment
of our women customers today.
It's not necessary, Aaron.
I've already decided
to be nice to women
for the next three
weeks, and no one,
on God's foul earth, will come
between me and my slab of tar!
Don't you have
anything else to do?
All right.
Hi, Al.
Peggy told me about your
little complaint problem.
I've no problem.
I'm still under my quota.
Oh, well, that's very good.
Of course, I don't see
any customers here yet.
Nope.
No one here but us chickens.
Actually, I was
just on my way back
from the supermarket.
It seems I was all out of eggs.
Some of the girls are
gonna be stopping by later
for what I guess you
could call a hen party.
Oh, come on, Al.
You know you can't
keep this up all month.
Eventually, some poor,
calorically challenged woman
is gonna come
through those doors
and you're gonna insult her,
because you don't
know the first thing
about politically
correct behavior.
What does that have to do
with obnoxious fat women?
Today's obese woman simply feels
that it's her right to be heavy
and does not
want to be insulted.
So when some moo
cow thunders in here...
with a pie under each chin,
I'm not supposed to ask
if that's the "Star
Spangled Banner"
she's belching so I know
whether to sit or stand?
All I'm saying...
oh, ye of little deodorant...
is that you must learn to
treat all people the same.
Everyone?
Everyone.
Even midgets?
Everyone, you wiener head.
Now, I would really
love to stay and see you
go down for the third time...
but I have to get home.
I promised Jefferson...
I'd cook him a
fryer for a dinner.
Oh, I so wanted it to be me.
That was close.
Yeah. Oh, no, I'll
take care of this one.
Go in the back room
and do whatever it is
you do back there
for hours on end.
It's called inventory.
You call it whatever you want.
Ah, excuse me, madam.
How may I serve you?
Do you have this in
an eight double A?
Well, let me check.
Oh well, you'll have to hurry.
I don't have much time.
Excuse me, Miss.
Are you sitting on someone?
What?
Oh, oh, no, I'm
sorry. Excuse me.
How-how... how may I serve you?
How do you think
this would look on me?
I wear a size four.
I have tiny toes,
don't you think?
Oh, yes indeed.
For sausages.
Sausages... sausages...
sausages... sausages
Now, before we get to the
main topic of tonight's meeting,
which is "what in the hell
is this country coming to
when a man can't speak his mind
without losing his parking space?"
Yeah. That's right.
We'll hear the minutes
of our last meeting.
Jefferson.
Thank you.
"The meeting was
called to order at 8:00.
"We discussed the pros and cons
"of the single urinal
versus the trough.
"At 8:15 we voted
on whether or not
we'd rather do
Ann-Margret or Alan Arkin."
Uh, that should be Ellen Barkin.
Damn.
Dad's in the garage with
a bunch of his friends.
How're we supposed
to get to our refrigerator?
- Are they all men?
- Yeah.
No problem.
You see, there are several
genetic flaws in all men
that can be acted on
for reasons of distraction.
I shall demonstrate
the strangest one.
Oops. I'm sorry.
I didn't know you
guys were in here.
Oh, look, a football.
Oh, well, come on.
We have important
business to discuss.
Now, as you know, I lost
my beloved parking space
just because I chose
to speak my mind.
Yeah.
Why, today you're
supposed to write
to the Organization
of Bald People
just to ask permission
to call 'em chrome domes.
Yeah.
Then you're supposed
to fax the Fatso Society
and ask permission to
assign zip codes to each side!
Excuse me.
Dad, I just thought you guys
might want to see this
paper airplane I made.
Son, we've all seen a
paper airplane before.
Made out of Miss January?
Hey! Hey! Hey, Roger!
This looks like your wife.
You think so?
Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.
No, I... I was
looking at this picture
of Dick Butkus on the back.
Come on, guys, we're
in a meeting here.
He's right. We've
got work to do.
Now...
What we need to
do is to find someone
who can tell us how
to fight this insanity.
That's right. We
need a man's man.
Right.
Someone who's always
called his own shots.
A leader to lead
us through the '90s.
A man among men.
Ironhead Hanes!
Who's Ironhead Hanes?
The gruffest, toughest man
to ever graduate from Polk High.
He had a beard in
the seventh grade.
And a wife.
He took out his own appendix
with a Pocket Fisherman.
Would have been a great
football player for Polk High,
but he refused to
take off his spurs.
He wore boots to play football?
No boots... just spurs.
Well, you know
they... they can't all be
football stars like we were.
Or cheerleaders, like I was.
Hey, I did some
very dangerous flips.
And I... I, uh, I
helped fire the cannon
after each touchdown.
- Was that you?
- Really?
Well, where can we
find this Ironhead Hanes?
Rumor has it he lives alone
on top of the highest
mountain in Illinois.
Well, then we'll go tomorrow
and seek his guidance.
Agreed.
Al! I need someone to move the
clothes dryer away from the wall.
Coming, dear.
Okay. We're outta here.
Hey, wait a second!
We don't have any clothes dryer!
Ah, did I say clothes dryer?
I meant take out the trash.
Hey, wait.
Look, how do we know that
Ironhead Hanes is even up there?
Yeah.
This legend could
just be made up.
That's true, Al.
He could be as phony
as your wife's hair color.
Or as real as your
wife's hair color, Roger.
I know it's real 'cause it
matches her moustache!
Come on!
Look, guys, are
we goin' on or not?
Of course we're goin' on.
Name me one good
reason why we shouldn't.
Well, I'm goin' on!
Yeah, well, I'm... staying here.
Yeah, we'll see you
when you get back.
Yeah, ha-have a nice trip.
Thank you, candy asses.
Oh, well, I don't
know about you guys,
but I'm no candy ass.
Well, think we'll
ever see him again?
It's hard to say.
This mountain has killed before.
It could kill again.
Trail Mix anyone?
- Yeah!
- Yeah!
The raisins are mine.
Well, you must be
Ironhead Hanes.
Yep.
And you must be some
idiot that don't know
there's a road on the
other side of this mountain.
Al Bundy. Polk High.
And... and I brought
you some gifts.
Me and my buddies wanted to
give you a token of our esteem.
In here I got some beer nuts
and... there's a
tire gauge... and...
Oh, here's the football that I scored
my first touchdown with at Polk High.
So, go on, go on.
Ready? Ready?
Hup hup.
Not my game.
Oh, well, then...
The... the beer
nuts can be from me.
Oh, and... here's
somethin' here...
Jefferson didn't
know what to get you,
so he got you a
silk shirt, ya know.
I've never had
one of these before.
It's not bad.
Now what can I do for you?
Well, Ironhead,
things have gotten pretty rough for
us free-thinkers back in civilization.
Old people gettin' mad
at you if you call 'em old.
Foreign people gettin' mad at
you if you tell 'em to go home.
You'd be surprised.
The slightest thing'll
set a gimp off these days.
I... I suppose that's why
you moved up here, isn't it?
No, I moved up here to get
in touch with my feminine side.
I'm kiddin'. I'm just teasin'.
Oh.
Well, unfortunately,
many can't move to
a mountain because...
they're married to one.
But we need your wisdom to
help guide us through our daily hell.
Tell us what you believe.
I believe that when you
gotta spit, you gotta spit.
And right now I gotta spit.
Oh, this is good stuff.
And I believe that everybody
that's got more money
than they can hold in both hands
ought to give it all to me.
I believe that all animals
were put on this earth
to make faces at me.
And I really believe
that that damn doctor
didn't have to put
this plate in my head.
Well...
Doctor knows best.
But... But tell us,
what can we do to fight back?
Well, I don't know, maybe
this song'll say it the best.
♪ Nothing ♪
That... that... that's it?
That's... that's the message?
That's it.
You know, men
like us are dinosaurs.
Real, live, dead dinosaurs.
Wait a second. I got
buddies down here
waitin' for you to give
us a plan of action.
My football.
I can't just tell
'em it's all over,
that life as we know it is gone
and will never
be like this again.
Well, if it isn't Mr. Sunshine.
The only problem
with being a dinosaur
is there ain't no future in it,
but there is one hell of a past.
Now what you need to do is
act like the mighty tyrannosaurus
and leave deep prints.
Leave... deep... prints.
Yeah.
Let 'em know that
you've been there.
I got it!
Oh, but wait a second.
What if my buddies don't
believe that I met you?
Is there... there's
somethin' here
that you can give me
to prove that we met?
Well, how about
that sack of flour?
Well, anything without
mealy bugs in it?
I guess that leaves
my beard out.
All I got left now
is this... guitar
that my dearly-beloved,
departed grandmother left me
and my Victoria's
Secret catalogue.
Here, I can't give
up some things.
Well...
Thank you, Ironhead.
And I'll see to it that
your legend lives on.
You're still my idol...
because you're
afraid of nothing.
Well, now, that's
not necessarily true.
I'm deathly afraid of magnets.
If a big one was to
roll by here right now,
my head is history.
I suggest that you get on
back down that
mountain in a hurry.
Why? Is it gonna rain?
No, but I do feel
another spit comin' on.
You think somethin'
horrible's happened to Al?
Why would you say
such a terrible thing?
Well, just... if he's dead...
we could eat his croissant.
- He's dead.
- He's dead.
Don't eat the croissant!
Al, is that you?
It is I.
I have come from Ironhead Hanes.
With words for
hard-working people
who don't give a rat's ass
about political correctness.
Rule number one.
It's okay to call
hooters knockers
and sometimes snack trays.
Rule two.
It is wrong to be French.
Rule three.
It is okay to put all bad people
in a giant meat grinder.
Rule four.
Lawyers, see rule three.
It is okay to drive
a gas guzzler
if it helps you get babes.
Everyone should
car pool except me.
Bring back the
word stewardesses.
Synchronized
swimming is not a sport.
Mud wrestling is a sport.
Those are your ten commandments.
But, Al, that's only nine.
Those are your
nine commandments.
Well, I can live with that.
I say we all go back
and spread the word.
And help Al get what appears
to be flour out of his hair.
It's stupid to start back now.
It'll be pitch black before
we reach the bottom.
Yeah, well, if we're
gonna stay here,
we'd better keep
this fire going.
Now does anybody have something
we can throw on the fire?
All I have is my Victoria's
Secret catalogue.
Yeah, me too.
Me too.
Well, then all we
have is these...
or these sacred commandments.
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
Sinners, more sinners,
heathens, sinners...
Hooters.
Oh, yeah.
We should all be grateful
to our late Aunt Stumpy
for leaving us her
refrigerator full of food.
Well, she didn't
exactly leave it to us.
I mean, we took it
off the back porch
while everyone else
was at the funeral.
Don't you think we should
tell Dad about the fridge?
Oh, no.
I'm sure he made out fine.
It was an open casket.
He probably got the watch.
Oh... refrigerator's
hidden in the garage.
Dad'll never know it's there.
It's concealed so well
even a clever man
wouldn't be able to find it.
I hate those complaint
boxes they put in at the mall.
A woman comes in
the shoe store today,
so huge she's
protected by Greenpeace
and asked for a size four shoe.
So, I asked her if she
wants to eat them there,
or take them home.
And she has the nerve to
complain about my performance.
Honey, I complain
about your performance
all the time and you don't care.
Sometimes you
don't even wake up.
Unlike sex with you,
this is important to me.
The mall manager is threatening
to take away the
only joy I have at work.
They're shutting
off the plumbing?
The other joy.
They're threatening to
take away my parking space.
The one that's closer than
all the other employees,
because I've been
there the longest.
Oh, so you'll have to
walk an extra half mile.
It won't kill ya.
Oh, no, Peg, it won't kill me.
That's your job.
But I earned that parking spot.
It's mine.
I started at the end
of the lot by the street,
where it helps to speak Spanish.
And ten years later, or
should I say "diez años,"
they finally put my
name on the best spot.
"Al Budny."
I was so happy, but now,
if I insult one more woman
before the end of the month,
they're gonna take my spot away.
Maybe you should
just call in sick
for the next 27 days.
Oh, no, no, no.
We can't afford that.
Then they'd dock his pay
and we'd be out hundreds
and hundreds of loose change.
Loose change!
Well, all I know is
I am not giving up
my parking space
without a fight.
Anyone can go three weeks
without insulting a woman.
Betcha five dollars you can't.
I will take that bet, you
bonbon-binging bozo!
Mr. Bundy, since you
lose your parking spot
if you get one more complaint,
maybe I should take
care of a certain segment
of our women customers today.
It's not necessary, Aaron.
I've already decided
to be nice to women
for the next three
weeks, and no one,
on God's foul earth, will come
between me and my slab of tar!
Don't you have
anything else to do?
All right.
Hi, Al.
Peggy told me about your
little complaint problem.
I've no problem.
I'm still under my quota.
Oh, well, that's very good.
Of course, I don't see
any customers here yet.
Nope.
No one here but us chickens.
Actually, I was
just on my way back
from the supermarket.
It seems I was all out of eggs.
Some of the girls are
gonna be stopping by later
for what I guess you
could call a hen party.
Oh, come on, Al.
You know you can't
keep this up all month.
Eventually, some poor,
calorically challenged woman
is gonna come
through those doors
and you're gonna insult her,
because you don't
know the first thing
about politically
correct behavior.
What does that have to do
with obnoxious fat women?
Today's obese woman simply feels
that it's her right to be heavy
and does not
want to be insulted.
So when some moo
cow thunders in here...
with a pie under each chin,
I'm not supposed to ask
if that's the "Star
Spangled Banner"
she's belching so I know
whether to sit or stand?
All I'm saying...
oh, ye of little deodorant...
is that you must learn to
treat all people the same.
Everyone?
Everyone.
Even midgets?
Everyone, you wiener head.
Now, I would really
love to stay and see you
go down for the third time...
but I have to get home.
I promised Jefferson...
I'd cook him a
fryer for a dinner.
Oh, I so wanted it to be me.
That was close.
Yeah. Oh, no, I'll
take care of this one.
Go in the back room
and do whatever it is
you do back there
for hours on end.
It's called inventory.
You call it whatever you want.
Ah, excuse me, madam.
How may I serve you?
Do you have this in
an eight double A?
Well, let me check.
Oh well, you'll have to hurry.
I don't have much time.
Excuse me, Miss.
Are you sitting on someone?
What?
Oh, oh, no, I'm
sorry. Excuse me.
How-how... how may I serve you?
How do you think
this would look on me?
I wear a size four.
I have tiny toes,
don't you think?
Oh, yes indeed.
For sausages.
Sausages... sausages...
sausages... sausages
Now, before we get to the
main topic of tonight's meeting,
which is "what in the hell
is this country coming to
when a man can't speak his mind
without losing his parking space?"
Yeah. That's right.
We'll hear the minutes
of our last meeting.
Jefferson.
Thank you.
"The meeting was
called to order at 8:00.
"We discussed the pros and cons
"of the single urinal
versus the trough.
"At 8:15 we voted
on whether or not
we'd rather do
Ann-Margret or Alan Arkin."
Uh, that should be Ellen Barkin.
Damn.
Dad's in the garage with
a bunch of his friends.
How're we supposed
to get to our refrigerator?
- Are they all men?
- Yeah.
No problem.
You see, there are several
genetic flaws in all men
that can be acted on
for reasons of distraction.
I shall demonstrate
the strangest one.
Oops. I'm sorry.
I didn't know you
guys were in here.
Oh, look, a football.
Oh, well, come on.
We have important
business to discuss.
Now, as you know, I lost
my beloved parking space
just because I chose
to speak my mind.
Yeah.
Why, today you're
supposed to write
to the Organization
of Bald People
just to ask permission
to call 'em chrome domes.
Yeah.
Then you're supposed
to fax the Fatso Society
and ask permission to
assign zip codes to each side!
Excuse me.
Dad, I just thought you guys
might want to see this
paper airplane I made.
Son, we've all seen a
paper airplane before.
Made out of Miss January?
Hey! Hey! Hey, Roger!
This looks like your wife.
You think so?
Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.
No, I... I was
looking at this picture
of Dick Butkus on the back.
Come on, guys, we're
in a meeting here.
He's right. We've
got work to do.
Now...
What we need to
do is to find someone
who can tell us how
to fight this insanity.
That's right. We
need a man's man.
Right.
Someone who's always
called his own shots.
A leader to lead
us through the '90s.
A man among men.
Ironhead Hanes!
Who's Ironhead Hanes?
The gruffest, toughest man
to ever graduate from Polk High.
He had a beard in
the seventh grade.
And a wife.
He took out his own appendix
with a Pocket Fisherman.
Would have been a great
football player for Polk High,
but he refused to
take off his spurs.
He wore boots to play football?
No boots... just spurs.
Well, you know
they... they can't all be
football stars like we were.
Or cheerleaders, like I was.
Hey, I did some
very dangerous flips.
And I... I, uh, I
helped fire the cannon
after each touchdown.
- Was that you?
- Really?
Well, where can we
find this Ironhead Hanes?
Rumor has it he lives alone
on top of the highest
mountain in Illinois.
Well, then we'll go tomorrow
and seek his guidance.
Agreed.
Al! I need someone to move the
clothes dryer away from the wall.
Coming, dear.
Okay. We're outta here.
Hey, wait a second!
We don't have any clothes dryer!
Ah, did I say clothes dryer?
I meant take out the trash.
Hey, wait.
Look, how do we know that
Ironhead Hanes is even up there?
Yeah.
This legend could
just be made up.
That's true, Al.
He could be as phony
as your wife's hair color.
Or as real as your
wife's hair color, Roger.
I know it's real 'cause it
matches her moustache!
Come on!
Look, guys, are
we goin' on or not?
Of course we're goin' on.
Name me one good
reason why we shouldn't.
Well, I'm goin' on!
Yeah, well, I'm... staying here.
Yeah, we'll see you
when you get back.
Yeah, ha-have a nice trip.
Thank you, candy asses.
Oh, well, I don't
know about you guys,
but I'm no candy ass.
Well, think we'll
ever see him again?
It's hard to say.
This mountain has killed before.
It could kill again.
Trail Mix anyone?
- Yeah!
- Yeah!
The raisins are mine.
Well, you must be
Ironhead Hanes.
Yep.
And you must be some
idiot that don't know
there's a road on the
other side of this mountain.
Al Bundy. Polk High.
And... and I brought
you some gifts.
Me and my buddies wanted to
give you a token of our esteem.
In here I got some beer nuts
and... there's a
tire gauge... and...
Oh, here's the football that I scored
my first touchdown with at Polk High.
So, go on, go on.
Ready? Ready?
Hup hup.
Not my game.
Oh, well, then...
The... the beer
nuts can be from me.
Oh, and... here's
somethin' here...
Jefferson didn't
know what to get you,
so he got you a
silk shirt, ya know.
I've never had
one of these before.
It's not bad.
Now what can I do for you?
Well, Ironhead,
things have gotten pretty rough for
us free-thinkers back in civilization.
Old people gettin' mad
at you if you call 'em old.
Foreign people gettin' mad at
you if you tell 'em to go home.
You'd be surprised.
The slightest thing'll
set a gimp off these days.
I... I suppose that's why
you moved up here, isn't it?
No, I moved up here to get
in touch with my feminine side.
I'm kiddin'. I'm just teasin'.
Oh.
Well, unfortunately,
many can't move to
a mountain because...
they're married to one.
But we need your wisdom to
help guide us through our daily hell.
Tell us what you believe.
I believe that when you
gotta spit, you gotta spit.
And right now I gotta spit.
Oh, this is good stuff.
And I believe that everybody
that's got more money
than they can hold in both hands
ought to give it all to me.
I believe that all animals
were put on this earth
to make faces at me.
And I really believe
that that damn doctor
didn't have to put
this plate in my head.
Well...
Doctor knows best.
But... But tell us,
what can we do to fight back?
Well, I don't know, maybe
this song'll say it the best.
♪ Nothing ♪
That... that... that's it?
That's... that's the message?
That's it.
You know, men
like us are dinosaurs.
Real, live, dead dinosaurs.
Wait a second. I got
buddies down here
waitin' for you to give
us a plan of action.
My football.
I can't just tell
'em it's all over,
that life as we know it is gone
and will never
be like this again.
Well, if it isn't Mr. Sunshine.
The only problem
with being a dinosaur
is there ain't no future in it,
but there is one hell of a past.
Now what you need to do is
act like the mighty tyrannosaurus
and leave deep prints.
Leave... deep... prints.
Yeah.
Let 'em know that
you've been there.
I got it!
Oh, but wait a second.
What if my buddies don't
believe that I met you?
Is there... there's
somethin' here
that you can give me
to prove that we met?
Well, how about
that sack of flour?
Well, anything without
mealy bugs in it?
I guess that leaves
my beard out.
All I got left now
is this... guitar
that my dearly-beloved,
departed grandmother left me
and my Victoria's
Secret catalogue.
Here, I can't give
up some things.
Well...
Thank you, Ironhead.
And I'll see to it that
your legend lives on.
You're still my idol...
because you're
afraid of nothing.
Well, now, that's
not necessarily true.
I'm deathly afraid of magnets.
If a big one was to
roll by here right now,
my head is history.
I suggest that you get on
back down that
mountain in a hurry.
Why? Is it gonna rain?
No, but I do feel
another spit comin' on.
You think somethin'
horrible's happened to Al?
Why would you say
such a terrible thing?
Well, just... if he's dead...
we could eat his croissant.
- He's dead.
- He's dead.
Don't eat the croissant!
Al, is that you?
It is I.
I have come from Ironhead Hanes.
With words for
hard-working people
who don't give a rat's ass
about political correctness.
Rule number one.
It's okay to call
hooters knockers
and sometimes snack trays.
Rule two.
It is wrong to be French.
Rule three.
It is okay to put all bad people
in a giant meat grinder.
Rule four.
Lawyers, see rule three.
It is okay to drive
a gas guzzler
if it helps you get babes.
Everyone should
car pool except me.
Bring back the
word stewardesses.
Synchronized
swimming is not a sport.
Mud wrestling is a sport.
Those are your ten commandments.
But, Al, that's only nine.
Those are your
nine commandments.
Well, I can live with that.
I say we all go back
and spread the word.
And help Al get what appears
to be flour out of his hair.
It's stupid to start back now.
It'll be pitch black before
we reach the bottom.
Yeah, well, if we're
gonna stay here,
we'd better keep
this fire going.
Now does anybody have something
we can throw on the fire?
All I have is my Victoria's
Secret catalogue.
Yeah, me too.
Me too.
Well, then all we
have is these...
or these sacred commandments.
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
Sinners, more sinners,
heathens, sinners...
Hooters.