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|Season Two, Episode Five|
"Sad Sack" was written by Barbie Adler
Narrator: It was Monday morning, and Michael Bluth was nervous about meeting with the new prosecutor of his father’s criminal case.
Lucille: I don’t know what you’re so nervous about, Michael. It’s a new prosecutor. It’s a whole new beginning. A new day, a new case, a whole new set of lies.
Michael: I’m not lying anymore, Mom.
Narrator: Michael was lying. He found his fugitive father earlier in the week, and he was hiding him in the attic, where George, Sr. was currently waiting for his breakfast.
Michael: About the business— just for the record— I was not involved with Dad building houses in Iraq. That’s exactly what I’m going to tell them.
Lucille: Is that for Lindsay? Because she’s not scared to eat in front of me anymore. Those are the whites only, yes?
Michael: These aren’t for Lindsay. These are mine.
Lucille: Anyway, I’m not lying anymore either, Michael. I’m being lied... on.
Michael: Wow, now more is going to come up than go down.
Oscar: I got to get out of here.
Oscar: I can’t take this anymore. She’s just so... loving and affectionate. I-I... this is not the woman I fell in love with.
Michael: Oscar, please. You can’t go. You got to stay, okay? This is the nicest she’s been since she found out that Rosa could breast-feed Buster.
Oscar: Oh, Buster— don’t even bring that up. He’s well into his Army training.
Narrator: Actually, Buster had hit a wall in his Army training.
Buster: I can’t do it; I can’t make my bed, and I can’t do this, either— I’m sorry. Aren’t you supposed to yell at me and call me “homo” and motivate me over this wall?
Sergeant Baker: We can’t do that anymore. Lawsuit.
Narrator: In fact, it was a recent ruling, prosecuted by the same man who Michael was soon to meet with.
James Alan Spangler: It’s going to be a long time before Sergeant Baker Wendell Baker calls someone “Private Homo” again.
Oscar: God willing, he’ll fail boot camp.
Michael: Well, why wouldn’t he? He already failed day camp.
George Michael: Hey. Hey, Dad, you ready for the prosecutor?
Michael: I-I hope so. How’d that math test work out?
George Michael: Oh, it was okay, I guess, but I don’t know. It was weird; I studied with Ann, but I still got a B-minus.
Michael: Ann got you a B-minus?
George Michael: Well, it wasn’t Ann. She’s an expert in math. Isn’t that cute?
Michael: Is it?
Narrator: Michael felt his son was setting the bar too low with his dating standards.
George Michael: No, it wasn’t Ann’s fault. You know, I think I just ended up thinking about the-the questions too long, and then by the time I put an answer down, I went with, like, my fifth choice or something like that.
Michael: Oh, George Michael, never settle for fifth choice. Something better is going to come along. She just has to.
George Michael: I think maybe sitting in the back of the class with Ann is a bad idea. You know, she’s just so pretty... I get distracted, I guess.
Michael: Do you?
George Michael: I wish I could draw her nose.
Michael: Maybe it’s your eyes. Maybe you need glasses. For your grades. Didn’t you say you had a hard time reading the board sitting in back?
George Michael: No, I said I was in the back of the classroom, but still, no, no...
Michael: Yeah, that’s what I mean, yeah?
George Michael: Well, I don’t know, maybe.
Michael: No, definitely. I’ll call the eye doctor. I’m going to set you up an appointment. Okay?
Tobias: Hey, gang.
Tobias: Oh, ooh... I’m afraid I’ll have to take ’em to go. I’m late for the gym. Oh, and also, here’s the number in case the Blue Man Group calls and needs an understudy. I just found out that my cellular telephone was a lemon. It didn’t work.
Lindsay: Coincidentally, neither do you.
Michael: Pretty brave card for you to play.
Lindsay: I just can’t stand it— Tobias staying in shape for a bunch of slutty gym rats.
Michael: What’s wrong with your voice?
Lindsay: Nothing. I’ve been going out.
Narrator: Lindsay had been frnquenting singles clubs, also still hoping to make her open marriage work...
Narrator: ...which it won’t.
Man #3: I didn’t catch that.
Lindsay: I wonder how many women he’s slept with, if any.
Michael: Lindsay, it’s not a competition.
Lindsay: Of course it is, Michael. That’s why they call it “scoring.”
Michael: Maybe in the ’70s.
Lindsay: That many? We’ve only been doing this for a month.
Michael: You know, instead of competing with Tobias, why don’t you try just spending a little bit more time with your daughter?
Lindsay: Why? Tobias doing that?
Narrator: At that moment, Lindsay’s daughter Maeby was in the process of wooing her own man.
Maeby: Who is it?
Steve Holt: Steve Holt!
Narrator: Maeby had even started ordering unnecessary items just to have more occasions to see him.
Steve Holt: Uh, you ordered a “Memories of Thanksgiving” basket?
Maeby: Wow, that looks great.
Lindsay: Maeby, who’s your friend?
Steve Holt: Is this your sister?
Lindsay: No... but you just made my day.
Maeby: Thank you for the basket. See you.
Lindsay: He thinks I’m cute.
Maeby: He’s 19. He’s a senior at my high school.
Narrator: And had been for several years.
Lindsay: You know what? I think I am going to spend more time with my daughter.
Michael: I can’t promise you I won’t tell the prosecutor about that.
George: Where you been?
Michael: Are you wearing my dead wife’s maternity clothes?
George: Yeah. It’s the only thing I could find. Where are the eggs?
Michael: Doctor says they’re bad for the baby.
George: So, you ready for this new prosecutor?
Michael: Well, I was, until you came back.
George: Hey, you’re not going to turn me in, are you? Because I had no idea there were sanctions against, uh, I-Iraq. You know, they-they sent me over there. They said, “Go build.” I-I... Do I look like a criminal mastermind to you? How do you get this ham open? I can... I can’t get this ham open.
Michael: I’m not going to turn you in, Dad, but you have put me in a position where I’m going to have to lie. Why’d you have to come back here in the first place?
George: Oh, no reason— your mother happens to be just shtupping my brother, that’s all. I’m only here to find out if I have a shot with her. If she’s really in love with Oscar, I don’t know, to hell with her— I’ll just... I’ll just leave. I’ll never come back.
Michael: Great. She’s really in love with him.
George: That’s very funny.
George: I need you to find out, okay? ’Cause ever since I-I heard about this, I can’t... sleep, I can’t... I can’t eat. Oh. Oh, look, it just peels off. Isn’t that clever?
Narrator: Later that day, George Michael was having his eye exam... and finding it to be just as difficult as his math exam.
Optometrist: One or two?
George Michael: Two. No, no, one.
Optometrist: Okay, two... or three?
George Michael: Three. Unless three is too much of an improvement. I’m sorry, is one... is one in the mix still?
Narrator: And Michael met with the new prosecutor, Wayne Jarvis.
Michael: I’m sorry, I don’t understand how this is not a conflict of interest. I mean, you almost represented us, and now you’re the prosecutor?
Wayne Jarvis: The Patriot Act. Read it.
Michael: I’m not even the president anymore. My brother G.O.B. is.
Wayne Jarvis: I spoke with G.O.B. He appears to know nothing.
Michael: Yeah, that’s not an act. He’s twice tried to microwave a Ding Dong while it was still in its foil... twice.
Wayne Jarvis: Twice?
Michael: Two times.
Narrator: In fact, G.O.B. had been grilled earlier.
G.O.B.: I don’t know anything about the business, I told you!
Wayne Jarvis: We’re going to get you, Bluth. We’ll give you a few minutes to think about what you want to do. [To Cho] He knows less than anyone we have ever questioned.
Narrator: G.O.B. knew too little to know that, however, and his confidence had never been more shaken. And just when he thought he couldn’t handle another embarrassment...
Wayne Jarvis: You’re free to go.
Wayne Jarvis: Things could get very messy for you, Michael, unless you have something to bargain with, like, say... a fugitive.
Michael: I don’t know where to find such a thing.
Wayne Jarvis: Well, look harder. There might be something in it for you.
Michael: Something to get me off the hook?
Wayne Jarvis: If you can find a certain someone.
Barry: Can I have a moment alone with my client, please? [To Michael] Did you follow any of that?
Michael: Yeah, he’s hinting that he’s going to grant me immunity, but only on the condition that I turn in my father.
Barry: Do you know where your father is?
Narrator: Michael had just found out that his legal problems might go away if he turned in his father.
Barry: It’s just you and me now, huh?
Michael: No, Barry, I... I know where my father is, okay? He came back to make sure that my mother was really in love with my uncle. He wants to know if he’s still got a shot with her. If he doesn’t, he’s leaving.
Barry: Well, if he’s got a shot with her, just give me a little tap on the fanny.
Michael: It’s not going to happen.
Barry: Okay, then look, just tell him anything he wants to hear to keep him from running. We just have to keep him here until we can hear what kind of deal they’re offering you. You just trust me. I’m a lot more competent than you can imagine. Oh, I forgot to take the tinfoil off, too. I really wanted that.
Narrator: Buster, meanwhile, was sharing his failure with someone who was well versed on the subject.
Buster: I mean, I couldn’t get over the wall. They put me on suspension until I can.
Michael: Well, perhaps you need to find somebody who can motivate you.
Buster: Yeah, but who?
Narrator: And then it hit him.
Narrator: G.O.B. had always proven a good motivator for Buster.
Young G.O.B.: Do it!
Young Buster: Uhh!
Young G.O.B.: Now, when you do this without getting punched in the chest, you’ll have more fun.
Young Buster: Thanks, brother.
Buster: Hey, brother. How would you like to, uh, go to the old playground with me?
G.O.B.: I’m sure as hell not going back to work. I’m never going back there.
Tobias: Oh, well, then perchance I might be able to borrow your cellular telephone?
G.O.B.: I’m not fit to run a company, and I don’t deserve a fancy phone.
Tobias: Well, the Blue Man Group might need me, and I do deserve a fancy phone.
Narrator: They didn’t, and he doesn’t.
Narrator: Michael knew he couldn’t let his father get away, so he decided to see if his mother and Oscar really were in love.
Michael: So, come on, aren’t you really just dating Oscar to get back at Dad?
Lucille: Um, it may have started as that, but I have fallen in love with Oscar. And it’s so nice not to have to worry about getting pregnant. The doctor said I couldn’t be a mother now if I tried.
Michael: And that was without even interviewing me.
Lucille: Here you go: hot tea. Because that’s what you are: a hot-tee.
Oscar: Stop me from pouring this on myself. I can’t take this anymore.
Michael: Okay, all right, now, listen, Oscar, maybe you should think about moving on, you know? I mean, this really isn’t your scene— the sweaters and the furniture. Maybe you should take a leap at freedom like my father, just run. Is that her rape horn?
Oscar: It’s more like a starter’s pistol.
Narrator: Meanwhile, Tobias set about learning...
Tobias: Oh, there we go.
Narrator: ...how to operate his new cell phone.
Narrator: And Lindsay tried to spend more time getting to know her daughter.
Lindsay: Hi, Maeby. Oh, Steve, hi.
Steve Holt: Hi.
Maeby: What are you doing here?
Lindsay: I thought I’d spend a little time with my daughter. After all, hasn’t been that long since I’ve been in high school. Is that a fire?
Maeby: We have to go to class.
Lindsay: Okay. Well, uh, this was fun. Maybe later we can all spend a little more time together, go shopping, get a drink.
Maeby: I’m in school, and I’m 15.
Lindsay: Oh, well, I’m much, much, much older than 15.
Steve Holt: You don’t look it.
Lindsay: Oh, Steve. He thinks I’m young. You made my day again! (Laughing hoarsely.)
Steve Holt: Wow, your Mom’s pretty, uh, out there.
Maeby: She’s not my mom.
Steve Holt: But she said you were her daughter.
Maeby: His daughter. That’s my dad.
Steve Holt: That’s a dude?
Maeby: And the worst part is he thinks he’s passing.
Steve Holt: Whoa.
Narrator: Right outside the school, Buster tried to put his own plan into action by stirring up old memories.
Buster: So, what do you say? I need your help to get over the wall. Push me.
G.O.B.: I’m the pathetic one, Buster, not you. I totally freaked out in front of that prosecutor today. Like a little girl. In a little dress. Little saddle shoes. Little pigtails.
Buster: Wow, that does sound like a little girl. Come on. Get my ire up! Push me! Oh. Oh, this is turning out to be much more fun than I’d hoped.
Narrator: It was fun, but it wasn’t making him a better soldier.
Buster: Push me higher. Whoo. I’ll do it. Whoo!
Narrator: And Michael reported to his father about his meeting with the prosecutor.
George: Prosecutor offer you a deal?
Michael: That was not said, but, uh, more importantly, you should know that it seems like Oscar’s on his way out.
Michael: Yeah, so just sit tight, and everything should be fine.
George: Wow. Hey, by the way, I broke this thing. What the hell is it, anyway?
Michael: That’s a breast pump, Dad.
George: Oh, well, I did not use it for that.
Narrator: And so, Michael went to meet the prosecutor.
Wayne Jarvis: I felt obligated to share some photographs with you. I obtained these from the Bluth Company email server.
Michael: You tapped into our email? That’s legal?
Barry: I’m going for a hot Ding Dong. Hot Ding Dong? Yeah?
Wayne Jarvis: Michael, this is a close-up satellite photograph of the Iraqi countryside. See this little series of hills around that stream? Those are bunkers. We believe that those bunkers contain weapons of mass destruction. We also think that your father was building on that land to hide them, which is why that photograph was on his email.
Michael: Are you serious?
Wayne Jarvis: Almost always. I was once called the worst audience participant Cirque du Soleil ever had.
Michael: This is a big accusation.
Wayne Jarvis: Well, Michael, I did not find their buffoonery amusing.
Michael: About my father.
Wayne Jarvis: He’s guilty, Michael, of medium to heavy treason. That proves it, and you can’t protect him. Turn him in, and immunity is yours.
Narrator: Michael returned home to confront his father.
Lindsay: Mom was up here looking for you. She’s claiming Oscar’s disappeared because of something you said to him.
Michael: I can’t talk right now.
Lindsay: Really? What’s wrong with your voice?
Michael: I can talk— sure. I didn’t say anything to Oscar. Anything else?
Lindsay: No. Oh, hey, did I tell you I accidentally ran into Steve Holt?
Steve Holt: Wow. Everything about you is so womanly. You’re everything a woman should be.
Lindsay: Thank you, Steve.
Lindsay: We ended up making a lunch date.
Michael: I thought you were spending time with Maeby.
Lindsay: Yeah. I have to reschedule her. But Mom isn’t the only one “finding love” where she least expects it—her words.
Michael: Whoa-whoa. “Finding love—” she said that? Where, here?
Lindsay: Yeah, she won’t shut up about him. She said “tingling” like, 75 times.
Lucille: ...gets me tingling. You know, with Oscar, there’s love, and with this tingling, and with Oscar...
Michael: She said those words in this house?
Michael: Dad? Hello?
Narrator: Michael had just discovered that his father had escaped from the attic.
Michael: This is going to sound like a strange question. Have you seen Dad?
Lucille: Of course not. And I’m not talking to you. You tried to scare away Oscar, which didn’t work. He’s back.
George: I just, uh, I just want to have sex with you. That’s, that’s all I’m good for.
Lucille: Did you hear that? He said he just wants to...
Michael: Good-bye, Mom.
Lucille: ...have sex with me. [To George] You smell like a pine cone.
George: Yeah, that’s the weed. I went to my, uh, bleep-hole trailer and, uh, I smoked some, like a cigarette.
Lucille: Should we take it into the bedroom?
George: Only if you really love me.
Lucille: Of course I do. Oh... What’s wrong with you? Where are you going?!
George: I’m on mushrooms! I’m on bad... mushrooms!
Narrator: And soon the prosecutor’s evidence became public.
John Beard: We’ve obtained photographs that officials call definite proof of WMDs in Iraq. What that means for your weekend at 10:00.
Narrator: It seems that due to the new information sharing provisions in the Patriot Act, the photos had made the rounds through several branches of government, and ultimately, to the US Army itself.
Buster: I just came back to tell you I can’t do that wall.
Sergeant Baker: There’s no time for that. We’re shipping out without you.
Sergeant Baker: Didn’t you see?
Buster: Weapons of... mass destruction?
G.O.B.: Those bastards.
Sergeant Baker: I did not say that.
G.O.B.: Are you going to let that slide? Are you going to allow your children and your children’s children and any children that I might have out there to live in fear for the rest of their lives?! Climb that wall, homo!
Sergeant Baker: Climb it.
Narrator: And just as the men thought the day could get no more surprising, it did.
G.O.B.: Now, when you do this without getting punched, you’ll have more fun.
Maeby: Oh, hey, George Michael.
George Michael: Oh. Hi.
Maeby: They found WMDs in Iraq, so we got a half day.
George Michael: Cool. So, I got a “C” on my math test. Not anticipating a good reaction on that.
Maeby: Well, the “B” got you glasses. Maybe this time you’ll get a neck brace. Anyways, have you seen my Mom?
George Michael: It’s possible.
Maeby: She’s on her way to meet Steve Holt.
George Michael: Steve Holt? I thought you liked him.
Maeby: I do. I’m crazy about him. But he’s obsessed with her. That’s all he wants to talk about.
Narrator: Lindsay felt bad. Perhaps she had hurt her daughter by putting herself first. But she would have felt worse if she’d remained even a moment longer.
Maeby: But it’s only because he thinks she’s got a penis. Oh, I told him she was a tranny.
Narrator: Meanwhile, Michael was still up in the attic.
Michael: Dad? What’s going on? Somebody could see you.
George: What’s the difference, Michael? You’re turning me in, aren’t you?
Michael: They say you’re involved in something big, Dad. They’ve got photos.
George: It’s not true, but go, knock yourself out, turn me in. I went and saw for myself. She’s in love with him.
Michael: Then why’d you come back? Why didn’t you leave forever like you said?
George: And go where? Make a deal for yourself, Mike. I have no love in my life anymore.
Narrator: And Michael realized for the first time that his father was capable of having his heart broken. Later that day, Michael had his meeting with the prosecutor.
Wayne Jarvis: So, where the hell is he? Come on, Bluth, what’s it going to be— your father or your freedom?
Narrator: And Michael had to do the right thing.
Michael: I don’t know what happened to him.
Wayne Jarvis: Michael, when we started talking to you, we didn’t have anything. But now... we got something. And you’re going to do time for it.
Barry: Those are the pictures?
Wayne Jarvis: They’re all over the news.
Barry: Those are balls.
Wayne Jarvis: What?
Narrator: Barry was right. Tobias had inadvertently photographed himself while learning to use his camera phone.
Barry: This close, they always look like landscape. Nope, you’re looking at balls.
Narrator: Soon, forensic scientists confirmed this. And for the second time in two days, the information sharing network put into place by the Patriot Act was put to use.
Chairman: They’re balls?
Pilot #1: We’re looking at balls. Let’s turn it around.
Pilot #2: Copy on the balls.
Narrator: And eventually, the news traveled back to the source.
John Beard: We got one wrong, and we do apologize.
Tobias: I’m on TV.
Narrator: And Michael returned home a free man.
Michael: Got the glasses. Now you’ll do better on those math exams.
George Michael: I think I blew the eye exam too, because every time I take these off, I feel better.
Michael: Let me see them.
George Michael: Hey, I, I’ve seen this before.
Narrator: For a while, George Michael had shared a room with his Uncle Tobias.
George Michael: Uh, there’s a ladder.
Tobias: Oh, I don’t need it.
Michael: Yeah, I don’t think you need glasses, son.
George: Uh, if the cops are waiting, I’m ready to go. I got nothing since your mother deserted me.
Michael: You know, you, you deserted her, Dad. You know, you escaped, and then you faked your death. I’m not so sure she sees you as that reliable. But listen, for what it’s worth... I did not turn you in.
George: You didn’t?
Michael: And, I don’t know whether it’s just Tracy’s maternity clothes, but it’s very nice to see a softer side of you. Although I’m sorry that you feel you have no love in your life.
George: I-I don’t feel that way anymore. Thanks. It’s been a long time since someone stood up for me.
Michael: You found her perfume, huh?
George: There was just a little left in the bottle.
Michael: That was the end of it.
Michael: It’s nice on you.
George: Thank you.
Narrator: On the next Arrested Development, Oscar returns to find a now distant Lucille...
Oscar: I’m back. But just for now, ’cause you get on my case, I am out of here.
Lucille: Then go. Who needs you?
Narrator: ...which was what attracted him to her in the first place.
Oscar: God, I missed you.
Narrator: Lindsay reconciles with her daughter.
Maeby: Hey, Mom.
Maeby: I got you something.
Lindsay: That is so sweet. You know what? I was hoping we could go to dinner tonight.
Maeby: Oh, I thought you were going to go see Steve Holt at school.
Lindsay: No, I just wanted to check him out and make sure he’s good enough for my daughter. Is it...?
Maeby: It’s a “Sheh-ma-lee.”
Lindsay: It’s gorgeous. I’m wearing it to dinner.
Narrator: Tobias, traumatized by the public exposure, returns to an unfortunate quirk.
Tobias: Thank God—my cutoffs!
George: There were cutoffs up here?