American Dad!

Tell me I'm wrong, 'cause I'm never wrong about oatmeal.

You know, you really can taste a difference with the steel-cut.

Thank you. Thank you for trusting me

to take you on this breakfast journey.

- Shit! - Uh, excuse you.

They did it. They finally did it.

Finally made a Junior Jumble you couldn't master, huh?

Here, let me take a look.

- They freakin' did it! - Did what?!

The Langley Falls Art Museum

has acquired the paintings... of Reynolds...

- Jasperterian. - Who's that?

It's philistine attitudes like that that have

kept this rinky-dink burg off the cultural map!

Roger, please, your tone!

You know who's the best artist? Gary Larson.

He took us all to the far side and kept us chuckling.

You know, Roger, I knew Reynolds Jasperterian.

- You did? - Dit-dit-dit-dit-dit.

Francine, do we have any honey?

What?!

You knew Reynolds Jasperterian?!

Knew him? He painted my portrait.

Ahem!

The Smiths are going to the art museum!

That includes me. I took Hayley's last name.

I'm the wife!

- # Good ... # - # Good morning, U.S.A. #

Fearing it was hurting his art,

Jasperterian spurned the party scene of New York City.

But he died anyway of party-related diseases

in the arms of the wife he had so often humiliated.

Roger, I'm surprised.

I thought Reynolds Jasperterian was gonna be you.

I gotta tell you, I did, too.

"I capture forever and share

the most exceptional beauty in the world."

- Oh, Reynolds. - Big whoop. I'm in the CIA.

- What's this line for? - To see Jasperterian's masterpiece.

Does it have two funny animals and a joke?

A fat kid wearing glasses and a hilarious observation underneath?

If not, I'm like that T. Rex

watching the asteroid hurl towards Earth.

- "Uh, check, please." - No!

It's his "Portrait of Francine's Genitals."

Wait, what?!

- Astounding. - What an achievement.

No! All of you, stop looking!

Don't look at this! This is private!

Take your eyes off this!

Clean-up on aisle mid-century, post-Modernism.

Nobody look!

Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you kids, the portrait is of my box.

I can't unsee any of this, can I?

- Where did you get that falafel pita? - I had it in my pocket.

Ah. Stan Smith,

the fellow whose wife's pudenda we all saw

- on the wall of the art museum. - I also got the tote bag.

And I "stuffed it" with zucchinis.

I thought last year's Matisse exhibition was a thrill.

- But to witness a Jasperterian in person... - You shut your filthy mouth!

Oh, yes.

It's going to be a very amusing day.

Oh, what a day.

This is some day, I'll tell ya.

Steve, what are you doing out there?

Yeah, you're usually in your room,

moaning at some mysterious activity.

Well, I had my normal afternoon all planned out.

Shades were drawn,

my favorite pages were bookmarked and waiting for me.

My Korean micro-fiber polishing mitten

rinsed out and almost dry. I untied the drawstring of my

- loose-fitting Gypsy pants. - Okay, set the scene less.

But there was one problem.

No matter what I looked at, all I saw was... that painting.

- I think I'm broken! - It's no big deal, Steve.

Mom's always flashing me that thing.

- "Does this look right to you?" - Ew.

Maybe you can use your newfound time to help people.

Like how I'm helping Jeff with his coloring.

I'm ready for red now.

Are you sure you're done with the green?

Wait! One more thing.

You! You embarrassed me in front of everybody!

- By making London broil? - Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Don't drag your delicious London broil

into a conversation about that filthy painting!

Are you still upset about that? That painting was years ago.

Besides, it's an honor to inspire great art.

I don't intend to share my property with the

low-brow pond scum that frequent art museums.

I'm sorry, Stan, did you say "your property?!"

Well, yeah. That part of you is owned by me.

That's what our wedding was all about, right?

I hope you can learn to enjoy the portrait, Stan,

because you don't deserve to enjoy the real thing!

Francine, wait!

Oh, hi, Francine. Excited for that London broil.

Oh, okay, you're storming upstairs.

- Francine! - She stormed upstairs in a huff, Stan!

Oh, but maybe you'd like to come in,

chat with your friend Klaus, maybe clean my bowl!

Yeah, maybe. Let me think it over.

Okay. It's just that Roger's minor-league baseball character

Rusty Buntafolio spits tobacco in my bowl when he's frustrated.

Oh, hey, Rusty. How was the game?

Horrible! They pulled me after one pitch.

My arm feels like a sock full of sand.

They're sending me down to Delmarva, I just know it.

Rusty, please!

I don't understand! You have an empty Slurpee cup!

It's so brave, you know.

To empower a woman's body through art.

Yeah. I-I love how ... how it's so feminist.

- We're just friends, Duncan. - Right, right, definitely.

Hey. Is this truly a great painting?

Um, yeah. Definitely.

I-I mean, the way the artist takes her most private space

and exposes it for all of us to consume.

- You sick little man! - Oh!

- Not in front of my girlfriend! - Your what?

My nothing.

Art fan, huh? Me too.

I love art. Stealing it, that is.

Tato Montacello ... art heist guy.

- Of course! Steal the painting! - Exactly.

And I'm gonna help ya, because, are you ready?

This is a good one.

I cannot believe this hasn't been in a movie already.

Stealing art is the greatest art of all.

Oh, screw you, Stan! If Gary Larson drew a cow

with curlers in its hair saying that, you'd be dying!

"Check, please."

So, you want to steal a painting.

Well, you're gonna need a crew.

And the crew is here in Monaco?

Oh, we're just in Monaco because Monaco

is where you have this conversation.

Most of the crew is Jersey-based.

Now, you need a crew you can trust.

But trust among art thieves?

Let's just say it's rarer than a Picasso.

Are Picassos rare?

Wait, we could have had this conversation in the kitchen?

Oh, please! You wanted this trip, you needed this trip.

What, with the stress you have going on with the painting?

Stan, trust me, you needed to relax.

And the walking tour? You didn't enjoy that?

- I was impressed by the walking tour. - Exactly!

That's the Monaco most tourists don't get to see.

Anyway, we should really be getting back.

Our flight's in, like, an hour and a half.

Damn it, we're gonna be late! Hold on!

- Are you crying? - What?! Of course not!

Because Stan and Roger have time to fly to Monaco

but no time to change my bowl water?

You think I'm crying because of that?

Helping Klaus. That could count as helping people.

Oh, it definitely counts. Don't doubt yourself for a second.

Helping others is my new hobby ...

ever since I saw the painting of Mom's junk.

Sure, sure. Whatever road brought you here.

Ugh! This is filthy!

Shouldn't you have a bowl with a filter?

- All that aquarium stuff? - Yes. Yes, I should.

But that might be expensive.

Let's agree to go to the store, but maybe not buy anything.

Yes! A small win for Klaus!

He was a phenomenal talent, but to me, he was just... Reynolds.

Mmm, yes. And you'd say you "opened up" to him.

I admit this is the Art History minor talking,

but I would really like to hear about Jasperterian's ideas on ...

You shut your filthy mouth, Dick!

- Stan! - Relax, Smith.

Just art lovers discussing the glorious painting

of your wife's thingamaboo.

Although I must apologize for Dick. He was out of line.

Well, we're off to the Mapplethorpe exhibit at the Met.

With any luck, that will get us hard.

Francine, can't you see you're embarrassing me?

Genitals aren't something that should be shown to the world!

They're not called show-nitals.

The term "genitals" comes from the Aladdin word genie,

and like a genie,

they should only come out when they're rubbed.

Stan, you're embarrassing yourself.

Tato Montacello, art heist ...

Wait, did I already do my introduction?

Yeah, we went to Monaco.

Really? Long way to go to meet somebody.

Anyway, tonight, we make that painting disappear!

To pull off this heist, we need muscle.

The Ignatiev Twins weigh 700 pounds combined

and grew up eating raw horse meat in Dagestan.

They still love horse meat ... it's disgusting.

Their breath smells like horse meat.

Whatever, it's one night, you'll survive.

Next, we need a lockpick.