American Dad!

-Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad! -Stan, Stan, Stan, Stan the man!

-You'll never believe it! -I've got something really big!

-You're all gonna shit. -One at a time.

Stan, the new TVGuide came and you'll never guess what.

-Barbra does Céline. Barbra does Céline! -Huh?

Barbra Streisand will be singing the songs of Céline Dion...

in a one-night-only, live pay-per-view event!

I don't think Barbra has the range to sing Céline songs.

Shut your mouth, you stupid bitch.

So listen, I'm gonna need all your support...

to make sure everything goes smoothly for me.

This could be the best night of my life and I don't want to have any regrets...

like when I had the chance to ecstasy at the 2003 Tony Awards and didn't.

I should have. But I was sitting next to Alan Cumming and I got scared.

Whatever. Hayley, you're up.

So I think I finally figured out why you never want to talk to me...

Next. Somebody go next.

You know how I've been working really hard with my a cappella group...

-Here Comes Treble? -Hmm.

My music teacher selected me...

to sing the national anthem at the Langley Falls Veterans Day celebration!

That's fantastic!

My boy singing the greatest song ever written...

to the greatest men ever made...

American soldiers.

Steve, serenade me.

Steven! What the hell? Did you just watch The Wiz or something?

I'm just putting some personal flavor on it.

Just sing it like a normal person!

I thought it was great.

-Have you been standing there the whole time? -Mm-hmm.

That's weird. I had no idea you were there.

Anyway, Steve, it's fine. But not nearly good enough for the ears of veterans.

Tell you what. I'll take the next couple days off work and we'll get that song just right.

Thanks, Dad. I don't want to mess this up.

No, you really don't.

Now go upstairs and line your throat with Vaseline.

Makes your voice come out smoother. It's an old Elton John trick.

Annoying, both of you!

I love your new pet.

It's not a pet, silly. It's my meal for the big night.

Roger! You can't kill this sweet bird.

It's an ortolan, Francine, the ultimate French delicacy.

It's so sinfully decadent that you eat it under a napkin to hide your sin from God.

And I only trust you to cook it.

-I'm honored. -Here's the recipe.

You actually drown it in amaretto, then save its life using bird C.P. R...

then refill the pot with crème de menthe and drown it again.

There is something so sweet about your hair today. I love it.

Thank you.

Stop! Take a break. I got to shake my head in disappointment for five minutes.

So, Stan, I tried to order Barbra Does Céline on pay-per-view, but it was locked.

-I need the code. -How much is it?

It's priceless. But to order it, it's four-ninety-nine.

Well, I guess we can add five more bucks to your tab.

Five dollars? For Barbra Does Céline?

No! Oh, no. Ridiculous.

No, $499.

Streisand comes expensive or she doesn't come at all.

Forget it! I wouldn't pay that much to see Barbra do Céline!

Or would I?

Maybe if I was in the room with them, peeking from behind the curtain...

and they didn't know I was there.

How would it appear on my credit card bill?

No, no, Stan, focus. Here's the deal.

You and I both know I'm gonna get that pay-per-view code one way or another.

So you might as well just give it to me now and avoid happy hour at Shenanigans.

-No! -Fine. Let it begin.

Crab walk!

Should have played ball.

-No! -I've been in the shower all night.

Yeah, I don't get it. I thought people were supposed to sing better in the shower.

I don't know. Maybe the problem isn't you.

Maybe-Maybe I'm not a great vocal coach.

-God, could that be? -No, Dad, it's me. I just need to sing harder.

No. It's more than that. There's something missing.

Something empty and soulless about your performance.

-Hmm. -That's it.

See, Steve, the national anthem is about war.

And you'll never be able to sing it until you've been to war.

Can you expand on that idea?

Certainly. Take the song "Love in an Elevator."

The reason it's so good...

is because Steven Tyler actually lived in an elevator the summer he wrote it.

But the song's called "Love in an Elevator," not "Live in an Elevator."

Steve, he's a rock star living in a kick-ass elevator.

You don't think he's getting laid? Oh, and it's summertime.

Some of my N.R.A. buddies rent this golf course once a month.

Since you can't go to a real war, a reenactment is the next best thing.

I've always wanted to go to a Civil War reenactment.

It's not a Civil War reenactment.

Those things are for historians and people who hate blacks.

These guys are hard-core reenactors.

Throw me a clip!

I'm gonna kill all these suckers!

Get down!

-Aaah! -Aaah! Where are we?

You in Vietnam, bitches!

They're coming!

We're re-enacting the Vietnam War?

This chopper will take you to base camp!

Get in!

Sergeant, over here!

Platoon, gather round!

The Vietcong may be making their move tonight!

-We need a watchman! -Steve will do it.

-Dad. -We're counting on you tonight, Steve.

Here, I'll even loan you my lucky machete.

-A permanent marker? -Use it like a knife.

Leave the blade in the sheath so it doesn't get dull.

Leave the cap on so it doesn't dry out.

Dad, I don't know if I can stand watch all night.

You've kept me up for the past two days practicing singing.

Steve, this is an opportunity to step up and be a hero.

Then you'll know what it takes to really sing our national anthem.

-Radio me if you have any problems. -I'll do my best, Dad.

I want more than your best, Steve.

For once, I want you to do fine.

-Aaah! -Aaah, aaah, aaah!

Steve, what happened? Man, what a letdown!

You'll be killed if you go into that jungle, man.

Hey, my hand on fire?

What? No.

Good. Then it's the acid.

This seemed like the perfect time to do acid.

Dead! Everyone's dead!

Their spirits are dancing all around us.

Popping and locking mostly.

Everyone calm down!

I have been in two war reenactments!

And you men will be safe if you stick with me!

No!

We got to get out of here, man!

Let's just go to the Snack Stop and get some grilled cheese, man.

No! We have to save my dad. I let him down.

Dad, can you hear me?

Steve, it's dark and wet. There's golf carts. You have to-

Sounds like he's in a holding cell in Nangangbang.

The caddy shack.

Then that's where we're headed.

Excuse me!

Do you know where the Horizon Room is?

We don't know. We're from Baltimore.

Thank you.

Marty, it's this way!

The man told me it's this way!

You're going the wrong way!

I heard you the first time!

Roger, let me go!

You give me code now! Now!

Now! Now! Now! Now! Now!

Codey now! Now!

Now, now, now!

Nyeh, nyeh, nyeh, nyeh, nyeh.

Eh, wise guy, huh?

Roger, stop! I'm never gonna give you that pay-per-view code!

We see.

This is Michael Patrick King's first draft of the Sex and the City movie.

It's 700 pages.

"You guys know that young firefighter I did last night?"

Well, his hose spattered all over my European mosaic floor and I slipped in it.

But it's okay, girls, because I landed square on the rabbit and found out what's up, Doc.

Carrie, V.O.

Samantha's story made me wonder...

"if I slipped, would Big be there to catch me?"

It was just the three of us now.

We were headed up Fanangong River towards Gobbley Goo Bay.

But to get there, we'd have to go through the 13th fairway...

freshly fertilized.

We were in the poo.

Pinecones are grenades!

-Crap! -Boom!

My legs! It blew off my damn legs!

You can make it, Buckle!

No. I's done. Take me out.

-I-I can't! -Take the shot!

Oh, my God, that hurt! Ow! Ow!

What were we doing here? Was it worth it?