American Dad!

And with the ceremonial Dutch oven completed,

another Steve and Roger sleepover begins.

What do you want to do next?

- Jerk off? - What?

Probably too early.

We have even eaten our bagel bites yet.

Steve's mom? Where are the bites?

We can play some games

on the vintage Macintosh we've been rebuilding.

Dang! But we still need the mouse.

Guess what came today?

No! No way!

Number Munchers, Dark Castle, Motorcycle Mayhem?

Surprise me.

What's this?

It's Oregon Trail.

You play as a family of pioneers

trying to survive on the frontier.

Um, can we play something else?

Come on, it'll be great.

If we beat Oregon Trail,

we get to print out a certificate.

Toshi got one.

Carries it in his wallet instead of a condom.

He's been drowning in muff.

Well, he's straightedge, so he just makes out a lot.

Oh, here we go. Time to hit the trail!

Oh, we lost Dad.

Stan's gone?

Sleepover's canceled.

What? It just started.

Dad hasn't even burst in in his underwear

and told us to "Shut the up or else."

All right, boys, don't stay up too late tonight.

We have family picture day tomorrow.

Full disclosure. Between the kitchen and here,

that's actually the fourth time I dropped these.

Aah!

Chomp, chomp, chomp!

Still don't have a smile from Junior over there.

- Chomp, chomp, chomp! - Haha-ahoho!

The shark ate his nose! You guys seeing this?

Roger, I spent over $3,000

on these damn denim outfits... just smile.

Smile for what?

A photo I can look at in 1,000 years when you're all dead?!

Before you got bitten by a snake?!

A snake?

Oh, God, what's gonna happen?!

Are you talking about Oregon Trail?

- It was only a game. - No, it's not!

'Cause even if you don't drown or starve to death,

you're human, so I'm gonna outlive you all!

What?

I don't need some denim-clad reminder

of when I was stupid enough to care about you!

- Stan? - I got this.

Hey, uh, you know, I'd love to see more of you.

If you ever want to go out and need a wingman,

you know, this comes off.

I'm really worried about Roger, hun.

I know what'll cheer him up.

One of my patented funny faces.

Stan, watch the road!

My eyes are stuck!

Francine!

Dad... Roger!

Roger, get out of there!

Good-bye.

I miss you every day, Roger.

The other night, I got in the sleeping bag

and Dutch ovened myself.

For a moment, I thought I could smell you.

Then I realized you shit the sleeping bag last year.

Anyway, sorry it's just me.

The family's not exactly coping well.

I want to talk about Roger. I miss him.

Steve, you need to move on and deal with Roger's death

in a healthy way like the rest of us have.

Yeah! Dad's got his mustache,

I'm deep into street fighting,

and Mom's got her hair and cigarettes goin'.

What's the point, Steve?

Roger's dead.

All that's left of him is our pasta claw.

Thanks again for adjusting the handlebars.

Arms are still regenerating.

Of course, we get that all the time.

This model doesn't have a sidecar option, correct?

Unfortunately, no.

Good. Got no need for one.

You see, I'm a lone wolf. A renegade.

Had a need for a sidecar once,

but no longer do I have... a need... for one.

Super.

Turned my back on that way of life.

Gonna stop caring about people.

'Cause when you care about people,

you care when they're gone.

Pretty cool, man.

Renegade!

Not cool, man.

I was a man with a family,

who realized I was going to outlive that family.

So I cut ties, got loose... loose as a goose.

Set out on my own,

keeping everybody at goose-length distance.

They're the world's longest bird if you pull hard enough.

Whoa!

So like I was saying, I'm a renegade.

Movin' from town to town,

helpin' people who can't help themselves...

Whoa, cow skull!

Three wheels. So safe.

Makes way more sense.

So, um, you know how I'm the only one

who answers the phone anymore?

Does it hurt your arm,

pattin' yourself on the back all day, Mr. Fancy Phone Guy?

That's an interesting accent, Mama.

But I-I got a call today saying someone charged

$31,000 worth of motorcycles

to Dad's credit card in Missouri.

Don't you mean Miz-oor-uh?

Wh-What I mean is, it's weird.

What's also weird is, the same week, a single man,

calling himself "René Gade"

crashed six motorcycles within a four-mile stretch

outside of St. Louis.

D-Doesn't that sound like something Roger would...

Roger's dead, Steve! You need to accept it like we have!

Try doin' something with your life, boy!

Even that scumbag Klaus turned Roger's attic

into a neighborhood bodega.

We've all moved on!

- Miz-oor-uh! - We've all moved on!

- Grow a mustache! - Miz-oor-uh!

- We've all moved on! - Miz-oor-uh!

- Grow a mustache! - Miz-oor-uh!

- We've all moved on! - Grow a mustache!

Miz-oor-uh!

You think it's easy to run a bodega?

Sure, it looks sexy as hell,

with all my dusty cans and the smell of

wet mango blunt wraps wafting over the big roll of scratchers.

But behind the oldest boxes of cat food in town

is a man who is under constant siege by shoplifters

and thieves like you!

Klaus, I'm just saying that last time printouts were $1.

It's always been $2 per printout, bro.

Read the sign.

Get out!

I don't like having two people in here at once.

This guy's got sticky fingers.

I'm sure of it.

May I help you find something?

The exit perhaps?

Are these 64-ounce Arizona Iced Teas

the biggest ones you have?

Let me check in the back.

Nice try, shit eyes. I know your game.

I go behind that door, and you run off

with a Duraflame and a pocket bottle of Rumple Minze.

- What? - Get out!

You want a bigger iced tea?!

Well, I want the health department

to let me reopen my deli counter!

I want to be balls-deep in egg salad!

I want to be able to brag

that this is a Boar's Head establishment again!

All right, listen up!

There's a new renegade in town and he's hungry for 'gading!

Now who has an injustice?

Well, there is a local biker gang that's been terrorizing us.

Well, not anymore.

Something to eat?

Thought I'd finish up these fries.

- Those are cold. - I'm a renegade.

I like my fries cold and my beers smokin' hot.

That's them!

A-Are you sure?

I can't renegade unless you're 100% sure.

I'm sure, I'm sure.

It sounds like you're saying "unsure"...

- Whoa! - Aah!

You picked the wrong day to come in here!

We got us a renegade!

Mm, mm, mm!

The fries are so good!

Who's the renegade? This guy?

Argh!

Please, sir, help us!

Fries, fries, fries, fries, fries.

Ugh! You promised to help us.

You're a coward.

Would a coward do this?

Where are you going, Roger?

He's riding the Oregon Trail!

Ore-gone? Ore-ginn?

Trail? Treal?