|Season Three, Episode Two|
Narrator: Previously on Arrested Development, Michael and his son were camping out at the family cabin before it was to be relocated.
George Michael: I’m just in the middle of a stupid girl problem, that’s all.
Michael: I don’t even have a girl, much less a stupid one.
George Michael: No, the problem is stupid, the girl isn’t stupid.
Narrator: But if they ever had a child, it would be. Because the girl was his cousin Maeby.
Michael: Tomorrow morning, before we tell the cops that that’s not Pop-Pop in prison, we’re going to go down to the lake, we’re going to discuss your girl problem man-to-man, and it’s going to be fun. Especially the part about the cops.
Narrator: But Pop-Pop had other plans. And Michael awoke to find his camping trip going south.
Michael: Well, you better get up now if you want to see the lake.
Narrator: And that was when George, Sr. made a desperate plea.
George: Promise me you won’t send me back to prison. so I can be with my dear love Lucille.
Narrator: Michael didn’t send his father back to prison...
George: Go around! Go around!
Narrator: ...but instead arranged for him to be placed under house arrest...
Lucille: George, we’re never going to be out of each other’s sight!
Narrator: ...which made this woman his warden.
George: Oh, dear God. Send me back to prison. You got to send me back to prison.
Michael: More touching!
Narrator: Michael went to his parents’ penthouse to discuss his father’s ever-worsening legal situation.
Michael: Where is everybody?
Buster: How should I know, Michael? As soon as Father came back, I’ve been like the invisible man. Hello?! Can anyone see me?!
Michael: Where’s your hand, anyway?
Buster: Why even bother getting dressed up? I have no one.
Michael: What? Buster, come on now, you know, if you’re really lonely, maybe it’s time you went out there and you got yourself a girlf... a pet.
Buster: How about a turtle?
Buster: I’ve always loved those leathery little snappy faces.
Michael: Certainly have a type.
Buster: Mother, have you seen my rubber hand?
Lucille: Oh, it’s in the dishwasher. Your father and I were using it for something.
Buster: Oh, for God’s sake. Can’t you keep my hand to yourself?!
Michael: Um... used it for something?
Lucille: He’s just jealous that I have a man back in my life. And guess what else is back?
Michael: My breakfast?
Lucille: My friskiness. Mama horny, Michael.
Michael: No, it’s my breakfast. I’m amazed Dad hasn’t strangled himself with his belt yet.
Lucille: Oh, we’re into all kinds of freaky stuff.
Michael: Why do eat breakfast before I come here?
Lucille: What the hell is this?!
G.O.B.: Well, now that Dad’s back, I’m going to perform one grand illusion for him before he strangles himself with his belt.
Michael: No, no, turns out, they’re into that.
G.O.B.: Well, check it. The illusion is called “Free Bird.” A magical bird— me in a beak— stands on a platform. There’s a puff of smoke, and I’m gone. Then seconds later, high above in a once-empty cage... who should appear?
Lucille: A guy that kind of looks like you?
G.O.B.: No. That’s not how I do the trick. Even it was, how’d the look-alike get up there?
Michael: He was hiding behind this mirror here?
G.O.B.: No! For your information, Dad asked me to do this on the day he pleads not guilty as a spectacular protest. A protestacular. Maybe even get it on the local news.
Tobias: Excuse me. I was just looking for a marker. A Magic Marker.
Lucille: I want it out of my living room. Put it in Buster’s room.
Buster: That’s where she keeps things she has no need for.
Buster: (Sniffs hand.) Oh, God. I’m going to run this through again on “pots and pans.”
Michael: You know, G.O.B., instead of trying to impress a father that couldn’t care less about you, why don’t you try spending some time with your son who’s dying to reconnect with you?
Narrator: G.O.B. had discovered he was the father of this boy.
Steve Holt: Then just tell him that Steve Holt stopped by, okay?
Narrator: He’d been ducking him ever since.
G.O.B.: Tom? Come on over here. I’ve got a vitamin for you.
G.O.B.: Hey, he’s the one who can’t see me.
Michael: Because you were hiding in the trick.
Tobias: Illusion, Michael.
Tobias: I so very much would like to be in your prostate-ticular.
Tobias: As your look-alike.
G.O.B.: Right. They’re going to see the ink. It’s more of a leading man role. But it’s not really done that way.
Tobias: Guess I shouldn’t have used that permanent... marker.
Michael: Starting to see why you want that divorce.
Lindsay: Yeah, well, actually, I’ve been thinking. Instead of spending money on a divorce, which can be slow... maybe I should get something faster.
Michael: Not the car. I said no to the Volvo.
Lindsay: The Lexus. The Volvo didn’t have satellite radio, which is crazy. I mean, what are we, Amish?
Michael: I knew you wouldn’t have the guts to go through with the divorce.
Lindsay: You’re one to talk. You haven’t had a serious relationship since your wife. And you guys weren’t even speaking toward the end.
Michael: Lot of that was the coma.
Lindsay: Yeah, I’ve heard your side of it.
Lindsay: You haven’t had the guts to meet someone else.
Lucille: Look who finally got his pants on. You’ve got ten minutes.
George: You got to get me out of here.
Michael: You’re the one that said no to prison.
George: I was wrong. There you just had to shut your eyes and take it. Here you have to shut your eyes and give it.
George: Now, listen, we can’t just go in there and plead “not guilty,” we have to have someone big behind us, our own private Matlock. So I made some calls and I got him.
Michael: Got who?
George: Andy Griffith. What, you never saw Matlock?
Michael: Not a real attorney, Dad.
George: Now, for ten grand, he’ll actually sit behind us in court and read the paper. For $15,000, he’ll actually sit at the defense table. For $20,000, he’ll twice lean forward
George: (Whispers.) and whisper something in your ear. Oh. White suit, that’s extra.
Michael: Boy, that’s an awful lot of money for the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.
George: The juries love him.
Michael: That’s just it, Dad. There won’t be a jury because we are pleading guilty.
George: I am not guil... All right, I didn’t want to tell you this. Are you ready for the bombshell?
Michael: Andy Griffith wasn’t the bombshell?
George: I’m a patsy. I was set up. By the Brits.
George: A group of British builders operating outside the O.C...
Michael: Don’t call it that.
George: ...contacted me for a partnership to build homes overseas. I did not know they meant Iraq.
Michael: We’ve got a picture of you with Saddam Hussein.
George: I thought that was the guy who played the Soup Nazi.
Michael: Come on.
George: I told him how much I liked his work. Anyway, the Brits used that picture to blackmail me.
George: A picture like that, Michael, can end your career.
Michael: Not in every case.
George: These are dangerous people, Michael. They’ll do whatever it takes to get inside this family and just bring us down.
Michael: British people?
George: Oh, they’re polite and the men all sound gay, but they will rip out your heart. And their breath...
Michael: And you want to go after these people?
George: Well, yes, it takes a little courage, Michael. I know that’s not your strongest suit. You’re even scared to ask a girl out on a date.
Michael: What? Why does everybody think that I’m scared of girls?
George: Because you’re a chicken. You’re a chicken! Coo-coo ca-cha! Coo-coo ca-cha!
Michael: What are you doing?
Lucille: Michael and women?! A-koodle-doodle doo!
George: Coo-coo ca-cha!
Lindsay: That’s what I was just telling him. Cha! Cha!
George: Coo-coo ca-cha!
Michael: Look, I haven’t found the right girl. When I do, I will ask her out. Has anyone in this family ever even seen a chicken?
G.O.B.: Wait, wait, wait! I got the perfect thing!
Michael: That’s enough, okay? I will give it one day, all right? I’ll see if there’s any evidence of these nefarious Brits, but I’m warning you, if I can’t, we’re pleading guilty, and you’re either going back to jail or if the judge shows absolutely no mercy at all, you’ll be staying here with my mother.
Michael: Lindsay, didn’t want to tell you earlier, but I did get you a car.
Lindsay: No way? Is it a Lexus?
Michael: It’s more like a Lincoln.
G.O.B.: Coka-coh! Coka-coh! Coka-coh! Oh, come on!
Michael: There’s no satellite radio, but there’s a banjo in the closet. And watch out for live-ins. You will get some live-ins.
Narrator: Michael was investigating his father’s case in the English section of Orange County.
Voices: Lanes reverse, mate! You’re driving on the wrong side, you blooming idiot!
Michael: I need to check the records for any British-owned building businesses that would’ve applied for a license about ten years ago.
Ian: Oh, I’m so sorry. You’ll need a UK passport to check those files. They’re for British eyes only.
Spy film music plays.
Michael: Don’t I look kind of British?
Ian: Perhaps if you’re willing to lose 20 pounds.
Narrator: The clerk was asking for a bribe, but this was lost on Michael.
Michael: Well, you guys do go for the jugular.
Ian: If you find someone with a passport, we’re here ’til 8:00. And do stay for the Poppuns.
Narrator: So Michael went to the local pub...
Voices: Bloody Yank!
Narrator: ...to see if he could find someone with a British passport.
Lionel: Welcome to the Yellowfang. I am Lionel, and the soup of the day is... What’s the soup of the day, Mum?!
Lionel's Mum: Bread.
Lionel: And the soup of the day is bread. Unless you’re just here for the Poppuns.
Narrator: And that’s when Michael saw the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Not her. Wait for it...
Michael: Are you from Wee Britain?
Rita: Great Britain, actually.
Michael: Great. I was wondering if you might be willing to go somewhere with me. I would pay you.
Rita: You’ll pay me?
Michael: Not... Not for sex. You’re going to think that I’m Jack the Ripper, right? Didn’t he kill prostitutes or...?
Rita: I’m not a prostitute.
Michael: Then I shall let you live. (Chuckles.) This is my worst hello. Let me try again. My name is Michael.
Michael: I need access to these files that are apparently for British eyes only.
Rita: Well, lucky for you, my whole face is British.
Spy film music plays.
Michael: It’s just across the street here. I really appreciate... Hello. I thought you said you were open ’til 8:00.
Ian: Oh, yes, GMT. Everything here is on Greenwich Mean Time.
Michael: What a curious street. Rita... I don’t suppose that you’re here tomorrow morning?
Rita: Oh, no, not in the morning, no. I’ll be back at Slowbrooke.
Michael: Slowbrooke. The private school? Oh, you teach kids, huh?
Rita: I like to think they teach me.
Michael: Like what, how to eat crayons, throw tantrums...
Rita: Oh, no, not when I’m there. I’m very good.
Michael: I-I didn’t mean to, uh, impugn your ability, or, uh... It’s turning into one of my worst good-byes. Farewell, and, uh... our paths shan’t cross again. As you like it.
Narrator: Michael would have walked away forever, had he not been struck by something he remembered from his childhood.
Michael: You know... Well... must be the Poppuns.
Rita: Oh, I’m sorry. It’s wrong to laugh.
Michael: No, no, no, it’s good. I liked it. It’s just, I was going to ask you, preschools just go half-day, right? And I’m not... I’m not trying to pick you up, but is there any way that I can... I can come by, pick you up, bring you here?
Rita: Yeah, I-I, um... I suppose I could... sneak out at nap time.
Michael: Yes? Perfect. Great. And I shall drop you off alive, hooker or no. (Mouthing.)
Narrator: Tobias, still hoping to be in G.O.B.’s trick, ventured into a costume shop he’d stumbled upon...
Coco: Oh! Look who’s back.
Narrator: ...years earlier.
Coco: Are you going to buy this time, or you just curious?
Tobias: I suppose I’m, uh... buy-curious.
Tobias: (Chuckles.) I have a big TV opportunity.
Coco: This is where all the big TV’s come.
Tobias: Uh, let’s start with the Eve Arden.
Coco: All right.
Narrator: Michael, meanwhile, called his sister.
Michael: I wanted to call and tell you that I got myself a date with a beautiful woman named Rita, and you’re the chicken, not me. Cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck...
Lindsay: Okay, that’s a pretty good chicken.
Michael: Watch out!
Voices: Crazy Brit!
Michael: What’s the problem?
Trevor: I know what you were doing back there. If you’ve got half a bleeping brain, you’ll leave it alone.
Michael: You talking about back in Wee Britain? I was just asking a few questions.
Trevor: Yeah, a few too many, if you ask me. How would you like someone going after some stupid person in your family? Now, back off, you bleeping ponce!
Michael: Wow! Dad was not kidding about their breath.
Narrator: Michael had just been threatened by a foul-mouthed British man.
G.O.B.: It’s Michael. I’m not dressed.
Michael: G.O.B., this is Michael. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your “Free Bird” trick?
G.O.B.: I couldn’t get the rights to “Free Bird.”
G.O.B.: I’m thinking about calling it “Free...” I don’t know, “Chicken.” I thought you were investigating Dad’s sinister British connection.
Michael: Yeah, I tried, but... but when I was leaving, one of those British guys came after me and told me to back off. Can’t believe it, but Dad may have been telling the truth. This might be dangerous.
G.O.B.: So you came back here to hide like a child.
Michael: What are you doing locked in my office, exactly?
G.O.B.: Hiding from a child. Big difference.
Michael: G.O.B., Steve Holt is your son. He probably just feels a connection.
G.O.B.: He doesn’t know what he feels! I’m tired of being told...
G.O.B.: My God, what is this feeling?
Michael: Well, you know the-the feeling that you’re... that you’re feeling is-is what many of us call “a feeling.”
G.O.B.: But it’s not like envy, or even hungry.
Michael: Could it be love?
G.O.B.: I know what an erection feels like, Michael. No, it’s the opposite. It’s... it’s like my heart is getting hard. Maybe I am ready to be a father.
George Michael: Hey, Dad?
Michael: It’s my son, G.O.B. What is it with the fathers in this family? Always trying to deceive their...
Narrator: And that’s when Michael realized that the man who threatened him must have been hired by George, Sr.
Michael: I’m the patsy. Well, I got to go. George Michael, I’m sorry, but we’re going to talk about that girl later, okay?
G.O.B.: Now all I have to do is find that look-alike, Michael.
Tobias: Michael... Hey!
G.O.B.: That’s a woman’s wig.
Tobias: I was told it was a “Bob.”
Narrator: And Michael confronted his father.
George: Find out anything?
Michael: Yeah, I did, Dad. I found out that no matter how many times I promise myself that I’m not going to fall for it, I always end up getting hustled by you.
George: What are you talking about?
Michael: The guy that you hired to threaten me after I looked into the British connection.
George: Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Somebody threatened you?
Michael: That’s a wonderful performance, Dad. You’re a regular Brad Garrett. But I don’t watch TV at 3:00 in the afternoon. And you can forget about pleading not guilty.
George: Guilty, we got to plead guilty.
George: Michael, I didn’t hire anyone. I-I-I swear. If someone came after you, they’re for real.
Michael: Come on, you’re serious?
George: I told you, these are bad guys. They do not want this information out.
Michael: He said that he was going to come after somebody stupid in our family— that could be Buster.
George: Could be G.O.B.
Michael: You’re not guilty.
George: We have to plead guilty.
Michael: We’ve got to plead guilty.
George: We’ve got to throw ourselves on the mercy of the court.
Michael: We got to get Andy Griffith.
George: Andy Griffith in the suit.
Narrator: And Michael went to cancel with Rita.
Michael: Sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be needing your passport, after all. We’re just going to go to court, plead guilty— that’ll be that.
Rita: So it’s bye-bye to Rita, then?
Michael: Yes, I’ll shake your hand good-bye, but actually, I was wondering if-if you might want to...
Rita: I wouldn’t. I’ll make you blue.
Narrator: Rita was just talking about the fingerpaint, but Michael didn’t know that.
Michael: I was just wondering if you might want to bid me fair ’morrow. That’s all. See ya.
Narrator: Michael was filled with self-loathing. Had he been Jack the Ripper he would have soothed himself in a most unsavory way. But instead, he just sat in his car and ate a whole thing of candy beans.
Narrator: And back at the penthouse, G.O.B. had been called to see his father.
George: It’s a new plan, right? You put me in the trick. You make me the guy in the cage.
G.O.B.: Okay, I just got to say I’m really blown away by this. You really want to be part of my world.
George: I do.
G.O.B.: God, I feel like my heart is straining through my shirt.
George: They take the ankle monitor off when I get to court, so you make me disappear, you put Tobias in the cage— and by the time they realize that that guy is not me, I’m running through the storm drains to freedom.
G.O.B.: Where every day it rains... pennies from heaven. It was... “bird” today...
Tobias: G.O.B., I know you’re looking for a twin for your illusion, and there’s somebody I’d like to put in a plug for. Uh, correction— make that 4,000 plugs.
G.O.B.: Oh, God.
George: Oh, come on!
Lupe: Meestagay , he’s bleeding! Meestagay...!
Tobias: No, no, no, no. I-I was scared too, but I realized it was of being a leading man. Oh, I can just taste those meaty leading man parts in my mouth.
George: All right, listen to me, the trick has changed. We want you to play me now.
Tobias: Oh, but that would mean I’d have to sh... shave my very tender head. I see, okay. Well, perhaps I jumped the gun on those new head shots.
Narrator: And later that day, Michael arrived at the courthouse with his sister.
Lindsay: I can’t believe you’re just giving up like this.
Michael: The guy threatened our family. We have to plead guilty.
Lindsay: No, I’m talking about that girl you said you had a date with.
Michael: All right, so I lied— it wasn’t a date.
Lindsay: But you could have made one with her. I think that Poppuns knocked the courage out of you.
Michael: I guess I’m just not in her league. How did you hear about the Poppuns?
Lindsay: It was on the news.
John Beard: An unlicensed Mary Poppuns takes down another tourist. Is this the work of the Itsy-Bitsy IRA?
Michael: I don’t want to talk about this right now. Dad, we’re going to go in there— Andy Griffith’s going to whisper something, we’re going to plead guilty, nice and simple.
George: You didn’t hear, we lost Andy.
Michael: What? What are you talking about? He didn’t like his trailer.
Lindsay: He thought we were making fun of him.
Narrator: No one was making fun of Andy Griffith. I can’t emphasize that enough.
Lucille: Oh, God, don’t look now, but G.O.B.’s doing his magic show.
George: Oh, boy, a stupid magic show. We got to watch this.
Lindsay: A big turnout.
Michael: I think a lot of people are probably here for the free chicken.
G.O.B.: Gather ’round, humans... and I will show you the plight of an innocent man who yearns to be free... as a bird! I’ve got to start labeling these suits. Who shall I send on this journey to that dangling cage?
George: Oh, pick me. Oh! Look, can I be in his stupid trick? Please?
G.O.B.: Steve Holt, what are you doing here?
Steve Holt: I just came to see the magic show. I didn’t know it was you.
G.O.B.: Do you like magic?
Steve Holt: No. I love it!
Narrator: And at that moment, G.O.B. chose to show his own son what he was capable of.
G.O.B.: I’ve decided I will be performing the feat myself!
Tobias: Wait... we’re back to hair?
Narrator: Fortunately for Tobias, however, he’d found it too painful to part with his new hair.
Tobias: Boy, did I catch a break.
Narrator: So he opted to wear a bald cap.
G.O.B.: This chicken shall be wrongly cooped.
Voices: What’s in his hand? Is that chicken?
Steve Holt: Oh, my God! Dad, are you all right?
Tobias: I fooled his own son. I am a leading man.
Narrator: And G.O.B. himself was running through the storm drains, free as a chicken.
G.O.B.: Sounds too good. I’m not ready.
Narrator: And George, Sr. needed to escape, too.
Lucille: I got him.
Lucille: Keeps him out of the kitchen.
Narrator: And Michael, seeing what a life of cowardice leads to, decided he’d had enough of it. And soon, George, Sr. came to, and it was time to render a plea.
George: Oh, no.
George: The prosecution’s got that stud from LA Law.
Harry Hamlin: I love my trailer.
Judge #2: In the matter the of People v. Bluth, how do you plead?
Michael: We plead... not guilty.
George: Michael, what are you doing?
Michael: I’m tired of the cowardice. You’re not guilty. We’re going to fight this. We’ve got the truth on our side.
Harry Hamlin: They don’t have a ( bleep ) prayer. Send the check to my accountant.
Michael: This is where Andy could have helped us.
Lindsay: Well, I’m proud of you.
Michael: It’s about time I showed a little courage.
Lindsay: I just hope those Brits aren’t as dangerous as Dad says.
Michael: Well, they’re not going to get any closer to us. If they do, we’re going to see them coming. Oh, my God. That’s Rita. I told her I was coming here, and she came.
Lindsay: That’s Rita?
Lindsay: Wow. She is way out of his league.
Michael: I’m glad you’re here. I want to call you sometime and take you out.
Rita: Oh, I’d really like that.
Michael: (Whispers.) Good.
Narrator: And then just to prove he wasn’t a coward, he went one step further. And Rita was happy to be in Michael’s life, as well. For you see, Rita... had a secret of her own.