Married... with Children

Bud, have you ever done this before?

What? You mean have sex?

Yeah. Hundreds of times.

Well, I mean, with someone.

Well, girls don't usually ask me that until after the deed.

I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous, what with your parents right next door.

Look, Jamie...

you see these locks?

I have never, ever been caught doing anything with myself.

Look, no one can possibly disturb us.

I guess I'm just being paranoid. And the truth is, I do want you.

Badly.

Then that is how you shall have me.

Hi, son.

Don't mind me. Just keep on doing what you're doing.

I can't find my Big 'Uns.

You haven't seen any Big' Uns have you, son?

No, Dad.

And, obviously, I won't be seeing these "'Uns," either.

Yeah. See, it's a special edition: Big 'Uns Behind Bars...

and, in my humble opinion, best damn magazine ever published.

Why would I need that kind of stuff? You know I slay the babes.

Yeah, I see that.

Here it is. My Big 'Uns.

"Chain gang."

So...

where were we?

I was just buttoning up my cut-offs and saying goodbye...

until you got your own place.

Jamie, Jamie, no, no. Listen, listen.

Listen, the reason I'm living at home...

is to help out with dad.

See...

he hasn't been himself...

well, since Desert Storm.

He was there?

No...

but he watched the whole thing on CNN.

I am so sorry.

Take me now.

Bud, have you seen my red bra?

We got the stuff out of your son's room. Where do you want to move this junk?

Don't know, don't care.

The boy said he'd have an apartment by 6:00.

So, in the words of his loving mother, "Keep moving until I tell you to stop."

Or, in the words of my loving husband, "The sooner it's out of here the better."

Al, I can't believe our baby boy is finally moving.

Baby boy, Peg?

He's older than you tell people you are.

I was very young when I got married.

And I was very drunk.

So where's the cool guy who is ready to leave home and bag some babes?

Right here.

Please, you can't even bag your own wife.

I can bag her, but it doesn't do me any good, I remember what she looks like.

Marcie, fruit.

Peggy, this basket is a gift for Bud.

It's very thoughtful.

But I'm sure he wouldn't want it if I touched it.

Or coughed on it.

Or throw dirt all over it.

Gee, I can't imagine why Bud would ever want to leave here.

But, God, I do remember my first apartment.

My roommate and I were both single.

Bursting with ripe, flowering womanhood.

The sexual revolution was in full swing, and we were a-happening.

I bet you were having sex all the time.

No.

That cheap slut of a roommate stole all my boyfriends.

I've never forgiven Mom for that.

Well, let me tell you a little bit about my own swinging bachelor pad.

Mirror ball on the ceiling, waterbed on the floor...

fake medical degrees on the wall.

God, I have fun at that place.

Have?

Jefferson, you don't still own that place, do you?

No. And it's not where I go Thursdays when I say I'm playing racquetball.

Hey, you guys, here comes Bud across the lawn.

Everybody get down, be quiet.

I think it'd make him feel good if we all yelled, "Surprise."

Forget that. We are gonna yell, "Get out!"

Get out!

What?

Yeah. Turn in your key. All your stuff is in the street.

Here is a lovely fruit basket from your mother and father.

Hold on to your filthy grapes, Dad.

I couldn't find an apartment I could afford.

You know, son, the best way to ruin a heartfelt goodbye party...

is to stay where you're not wanted.

Now, we bought you a lovely cake.

The least you could do is get out.

The most you can do is take your mother with you.

Al, you cannot just throw him out in the cold.

No, no, no. Dad's right.

He deserves to be "Menendez-ed" but he's right.

No, I can't go on living upstairs.

I guess I'll just go find a box somewhere.

Fine.

Oh, Bud, don't be so down.

Listen, I have the perfect place for you to move into.

It's lonely, it's grungy, it's creepy, it's you.

The basement.

Kelly...

you may have just hit on something.

And for once it's not a married man.

The basement. Lots of cool guys live in the basement, right?

Yeah, the coolest.

Uncle Fester. Cousin ltt.

That silly guy with the butterflies from Silence of the Lambs.

It's gonna be the coolest pad in town.

It's gonna be the Mecca of chick-dom, the North Pole of nookie.

I'm gonna put in new carpets, new lights...

- New third step. - Oh, my God!

So, Peggy, what are you gonna do with Bud's old room?

Well, you know, I've always wanted someplace...

I could just stretch out and do nothing.

Well, get in the car. I'll take you to the morgue.

Come on, Al. You should be proud...

that your son is moving out and becoming a man.

My son is burrowing down and becoming a mole.

Besides, as bad as this is, you know something worse is gonna happen.

Don't you know that all horrible things happen in threes?

Celebrity deaths.

Pauly Shore movies.

Wilson Phillips.

And, in my own case, marrying Peg.

Bud not moving out. And three, two, one:

Al, something horrible has happened.

The hell you say.

That was Dad. He and Mom had this big fight.

And now Mom left and he can't find her.

Did he look behind the Rockies?

Excuse me, oink-boy.

But aren't you concerned about your mother-in-law's whereabouts?

I know where the blubbering beast doth blow.

Where?

Margaret, open the door! It's your mother, and I'm hungry!

You know, Peg, I hate it when your mom weebles down here...

for her little midnight snacks which last till 9 in the morning.

Mom does not eat between meals.

No, Peg. Because in order to eat between meals...

the first meal has to end.

Al, don't you know how traumatic this is for me?

I now come from a broken home.

As do I.

Give Mom a break, she's distraught.

She is humongous.

I'm just retaining water.

The Hoover Dam is retaining water.

She is retaining Skittles.

Did someone say Skittles?