The Amazing World of Gumball

Mom? What are you doing?

There's not a single bit of space left in this whole house!

What for? That!

It's like a ceramic cry for help.

It's a beautiful and generous gift from your grandmother

and I like it very much.

If you like it so much,

why can't you look directly at it?

I can!

See?

I'm looking at it right now.

Oh, I love looking at it.

Aah! That vase is still here!

I thought you said, "Don't worry, honey,

I'll find a hiding place for that hideous monstrosity!"

Oh, what are you talking about?

I love this vase.

Then why did you say that vase looks like the type of vase

a rebellious vase would date to make his parents angry?

Oh, fine, I hate it.

So how come you Granny Jojo you liked it

in a high-pitched voice, all smiling like this?

Okay, kids.

Sometimes when you're an adult, you have to lie,

all of the time, about absolutely everything.

And never show your feelings, because it's impolite.

Sit on them until you die, then bury them with you,

like the ancient Egyptians did.

You don't have to tell us.

My last present from Granny Jojo was a pair of orthopedic shoes.

Yeah, and I didn't exactly ask Santa

for an expired can of tuna fish.

And Dad could not have wanted those ridiculous granny undies.

Hey! I asked for these!

They're comfortable and keep everything in the right place.

I just wish she'd bought you the top half, too.

Wait a minute.

Orthopedic shoes, old-person food, and a girdle?

She's... It's called regifting.

It's a way for her to share the gifts she's been

lucky enough to receive herself.

You mean she's passing off all her unwanted junk onto us

and pretending it's generosity.

Hey! A gift isn't just an object.

It's the thought behind it.

And she puts no thought into them whatsoever.

Why don't you just, you know, "Mm, mm, psh."

I mean smash it and pretend it was an accident.

Because that would make me a terrible role model.

But children are allowed to have that kind of accident.

So you're saying you want us to smash the vase.

A good mother would never ask such a thing.

Don't you dare break this vase.

So, you don't want us to smash the vase?

Huh? Huh? Huh?

Okay.

Three, two, one, yah!

Wait, wait!

We should say something cool first.

I'm afraid you lost the pottery lottery.

Eh. Eh.

Oh! I got one!

Looks like this wasn't orna-meant to be.

Mm-mmm. Mm-mmm.

In your vase!

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Oh. Maybe this is gonna be harder than we thought.

I guess it wasn't orna-meant...

Dude, it didn't work the first time.

Hmm.

Ha-dah!

Aah!

Huh. I would have thought I'd get hit.

I need to revise my calculations.

What's the most surefire way

of guaranteeing something will break?

Put it in the mail marked "Fragile."

Huh, huh, huh!

Woo-hoo!

Mailman! Special delivery!

Uh, we're not here.

Could you just post it through the door?

Makes sense to me.

That's not the vase.

Yeah, that's the tablet Gumbo asked mom for for his birthday.

There's this, too.

Argh! Argh! Argh!

It's hopeless. It's indestructible.

Wait, there's still something we haven't tried.

What's the most mindless, destructive,

butterfingered force in this house?

Dad!

Uh, why are you spreading butter on your hand?

Duh! We ran out of bread!

Right. Could you do us a big favor

and just hold this for maybe five seconds?

But whatever you do, don't drop it.

Sure.

Ugh! Why couldn't you have

managed that when I was a baby?

So what do we do?

I guess we just need to accept it...

We're going to be lumbered with this vase

for the rest of our lives.

Rest of our lives.

All set for your prom night, Son?

Uh, yeah.

There she is.

Isn't she beautiful?

Uh...

Okay, graduates.

Say synthetic organic cheese substitute!

I never thought I'd say this, but vase,

you was the best gosh darn friend I ever had.