Original subtitles

♪ It seems today that all you see ♪

♪ Is violence in movies and sex on TV ♪

♪ But where are those good old-fashioned values ♪

♪ On which we used to rely? ♪

♪ Lucky there's a family guy ♪

♪ Lucky there's a man who positively can do ♪

♪ All the things that make us ♪

♪ Laugh and cry ♪

♪ He's... a... Fam... ily... Guy! ♪

Well, it took 100 pounds of rice,

but you're almost done, Jessica Chast-grain.

What's that? You want me to run away with you?

But what about your husband, Gian Luca Pasi de Preposulo?

Yeah, Italian names are stupid.

Ah, damn it! I'm gonna kill you, Brian!

Nice.

What the hell's going on over here?

You've been barking all morning!

Yeah, you're welcome. I'm protecting the neighborhood.

I heard from a dog, who heard from a dog,

who heard from another dog

that he saw a pack of coyotes on Spooner Street.

There are no coyotes on Spooner Street.

And your barking is driving me crazy, so just stop.

I can't! And trust me, my bark is the only thing

keeping these predators at bay.

Because if there's one thing that I will not allow

in this neighborhood, it's predators.

Oh, hey, Mr. Herbert. How you doing today?

Oh, you know me.

Easy peasy, youngsy boys-y.

Sweet, sweet old fella right there.

Hey, can I talk to you guys about Chris?

I'm really worried about him.

- What's wrong? - Well, he needs to lose weight.

And his blood pressure's way too high.

I'm afraid he could end up with serious medical issues.

I mean, maybe even a wheelchair someday.

Hmm. If that were the case, I wonder if there's people

on Craigslist you can hire to make that burden go away.

I'm just not sure what's the best way to get him healthier.

Maybe a guy named Tony Q?

I guess the first thing I should do is get him

to lose some weight.

Maybe this guy Tony Q's even cheaper than you'd expect.

Or maybe there's a sport Chris could get involved in?

You know what? That's a great idea!

After all, sports are in his DNA.

Peter's great-grandfather invented one.

I call it basketball, boys.

Now prepare to be dazzled

by the most thrilling move in my game.

Chest pass!

Hey, that looks like fun. Can I try?

No, no, no, no, no. Just us for a while.

Good afternoon, sir. I'm looking for a Brian Griffin.

Joe, you've known me for years.

Come on, I got to flop around for, like, an hour

to get my uniform on, so let me do the cop thing.

I received an anonymous complaint about your barking.

It was me, Brian. I was the anonymous complaint.

This here's a court order that says

you have to wear a bark collar

until the complainant is satisfied

you can obey the local noise ordinance.

Joe, this is a flyer for your one-man show.

The Laughs Have Left the Station.

Wow, and only five bucks a tick?

I should investigate this next 'cause that is a steal.

Anyway, the collar's programmed to give you a severe shock

if you raise your voice above a certain decibel.

You're wasting your time.

That's a military-grade collar, little trickle-down from Gitmo.

And don't bother trying to cut it off.

You won't be able to. It's Kevlar.

Same stuff Republicans want our kids to wear to school.

Joe-comotive.

All that and more, Friday afternoon

at the VFW parking lot.

Chris, your mother asked me to get you involved in a sport

to help bring your blood pressure down.

Now, you have

what we're no longer allowed to call "imbecile strength,"

so the first sport we're going to try is the shot put.

Just take this cannonball thingy,

spin around like a maniac a few times,

and heave it as far as you can.

Seems easy enough.

Oh, no! Your car!

Ha! Who's the pathetic loser

for not having a windshield now, teens-outside-7-Eleven?

The student you're matched up against today is Chris Griffin.

He's not much of an athlete, so go easy on him.

I wonder where he is anyway.

By God, it's the Griffinator from the top rope!

Yah!

As a husky kid on the spectrum,

this is the only kind of wrestling I'm into.

You don't have to explain yourself to me, Chris.

As an adult whose bath mat is newspapers,

I'm pretty into it, too.

Thanks for trying to help, Principal Shepherd,

but I'm just not good at anything.

And all that stuff about carbo-loading is B.S.,

by the way.

I ate a whole pan of the milky mac and cheese at lunch,

and it didn't help one bit.

Uh-oh.

Oh, I think the carbs just loaded.

Where's the bathroom?

Uh, the closest one is all the way across the field.

It's okay. This isn't my first poop-trot rodeo.

I can clench and hustle.

Chris is using his hips to generate speed

without dilating his anus.

It's the perfect racewalking form.

Oh, no, the door's locked.

And wow, just wow.

A natural speedwalker with form unlike any I've ever seen.

What the hell happened to us, Don?

Eight years ago we were calling Major League Baseball,

and now we're hoping a teenager will speedwalk by.

And I'll say the quiet part out loud:

no one wants to hire a white guy.

It's been a pleasure, Don.

You've been a life raft and an anchor, other Don.

So, are we all excited

for Chris's first racewalking competition?

No, this is gonna be so boring.

Why couldn't Chris play a sport that's actually interesting?

Oh, Meg, racewalking's plenty interesting

if you know the first thing about it.

There's rules about heel and toe placement

as well as leg straightness,

so keep an eye out for the judge's yellow and red paddles.

Those indicate a warning or disqualification.

Lois, we can see you sneak-reading Wikipedia.

All right, since none of you Gen Z snowflakes

can be trusted around a starting pistol,

listen for the starting kazoo.

On your marks, get set, kazoo!

I, um, lost the actual kazoo.

You got this.

So it's really just walking, huh?

God, by the time he's done, I could foster another kid

and raise 'em to play a better sport.

You know what? That's what I'm gonna do.

This is Rebecca, my new ward.

I found her under the overpass and said she could stay with us

till she gets back on her feet.

Is the race over yet?

Not even close.

Okay, I'm gonna go get this one a tetanus shot.

I imagine she's quite overdue.

Rebecca's my girlfriend now, Lois.

She's always felt like more than a foster,

and we've decided to explore those feelings.

We bought a condo in Tucson, so I'll be moving out.

Look, here comes Chris!

Winner!

Whoo, yeah!

- Great job, honey! - Yay!

Go, Chris!

Welp, she left me, Lois.

I gave her an ultimatum:

it was me or her tattoo artist,

but our throuple wasn't healthy for anybody.

She chose him rather quickly.

We sold the condo at a loss, and she still has my credit cards.

All that's to say I'm ready to rebuild what you and I once had.

You have to call the companies and cancel those cards.

I know.

Hey, there he is.

Woof-ie Goldberg, eh?

Arf Vader.

Bark Ruffalo.

Yip... Ah, yeah, I should've stopped on that last one.

So, how you doing with that thing?

I'm doing just fine, Stewie.

I am in total control of my barking.

Well, that's good, because the fat man

finally fixed that broken doorbell,

and you know that always gets your goat.

Is it working?

Did I do good?

Ow, damn it!

Ow!

Oh, God, that was awful.

Oh, locked myself out. Anybody in there?

Oh, wait, I got a key.

Someone I know is home!

Ow!

Someone I know is home!

Ow!

Hey, honey, I was just telling Bonnie and Donna

what a star you've become on your new team, huh?

Hey, I got an idea.

Do you want to take a stroll with us?

First off, don't call it a stroll, it's insulting,

if we do any photos,

you got to tape over that Skechers logo.

I'm a Rockport athlete.

When your joints are such a disaster,

even dress shoes need air pocket technology,

it's Rockport.

This next hill is really gonna test our mettle,

so why don't you ladies draft off me until we get to the top?

Now, who remembers what to do when we get to the intersection?

Walk in place like a lunatic

who's clearly using this mild exercise

to keep their own demons at bay?

Why, Bonnie Swanson, if I didn't know any better,

I'd swear I was racewalking gold medalists Maurizio Damilano

or Ivano Brugnetti.

Italian names are so stupid.

So, Brian, what can I do for you?

Come here to beg to have that collar removed?

Oh, this thing?

It's actually been such a nonissue,

I forgot I was wearing it,

but since you brought it up,

I feel like my barking is really under control now,

so we can have Joe take it off...

Do you hear that?

That's peace and quiet.

Wh-What-what was that?

D-Did you just smell the silence?

Why, yes, I did, Brian. Yes, I did.

Okay, fine, you were right.

I was being a loud, annoying jerk, and I'm sorry.

Please have Joe take this off.

Why do you think I like cats so much, Brian?

- 1980s Fancy Feast ads? - 1980s Fancy Feast ads,

but what I really love about cats is how quiet they are.

They don't bark, they purr.

Okay, so what's your point?

I want to hear you purr.

I-I can't. I won't.

Say, how do you think a squirrel feeder

would look in my front yard?

R-Right there, right there, in full view of your house.

Okay, fine.

Purr.

Oh, you can do better than that.

Ugh, all right.

There. Now will you call Joe?

What do you think, Miss Kitty-Witty?

Was that a good purr?

- Ow! - Sorry, Brian, she says no.

And when a woman says no in this house,

it means no, as of March 5, 2018.

What the hell?

Ha, ha.

Ha, ha.

Wow, what are you ladies doing here?

We-we didn't have a walk planned today.

Oh, we're here for Chris.

What?

Chris, when'd you make plans with Bonnie and Donna?

It was on the group text.

- Well, I-I didn't see a group text. - Oh.

Well, give me a sec, I'll grab my shoes.

Actually, Lois, today we're going to Three-Wide Park.

You know, that park where the trails

are only three people wide?

But you said your fibromyalgia is acting up, anyway.

Yeah, but I don't actually have fibromyalgia. Nobody does.

You just say that to get out of stuff you don't want to do.

Wh... Couldn't we just walk, you know, two and two?

Officer Threewide didn't die in a tragic freeway accident

so we could dishonor his memory.

Did you see that, Peter?

Chris just went out for the afternoon with my friends,

and not one of them thought to include me.

Ugh, so brutal.

Hey, what do you say we go upstairs and I cheer you up?

Oh, honey, I would, but my fibromyalgia's on fire today.

Oh, dear, never mind.

There's commercials for that, so I know it's real.

Sorry I'm late. Me, Bon, and Don...

that's Bonnie and Donna... were in the zone

on this morning's walk.

Oh, is that right?

- Oh. - What "oh"?

Oh, nothing, it's just me, 'Nie, and 'Na...

that's also Bonnie and Donna... we're doing a vegan challenge.

"Excuse me, sir?

Would you like some breakfast with your cholesterol?"

Chris, what the hell is this?

Uh, sorry. Wrong-wrong chat.

You know, I got to say, I'm not crazy

about all this time you're spending with Bonnie and Donna.

What? Why? I like them.

Because they're my middle-aged, female friends,

and lately, it's like they enjoy hanging out

with my teenage son more than me.

It's inappropriate.

We only started getting along

'cause they like how I'm good at walking,

which you told me to get into.

I know, I know, and I'm happy you're healthier,

but now you, Bonnie and Donna are doing things without me,

and texting about the food I make.

What?

We don't do that.

Hey, how do you spell "uncoagulated"?

Like, like, if something wasn't cooked nearly enough?

Where the hell is Brian Griffin?

Sorry, Quagmire, I didn't catch that.

Could you speak up?

No, I can't, because if I raise my voice,

I get freaking electrocuted.

I have never been so furious.

Take this off right now.

No way. This is payback, you dick.

I swear to God, I will choke you out

with your own tail.

Yeah, I'd like to see you try, you sad, lonely douche.

Where'd you get one of these things, anyway?

Eh, Joe leaves his cruiser unlocked.

It was on the front seat.

Hey, that's not cool, Brian.

Those collars aren't easy to replace.

Unlike Congressional seats,

you can't just go out and buy one.

Joe-comotive, next stop: good times.

Now available for all private events.

A café gaggle without me?

Well, you know what I might do...

and I think I'm getting this right...

I might just take the morning-way-after pill,

and then, poof, he's gone.

Oh, hey, fam.

Oh, God, there's my mom.

Wait, but if she's here,

then who's at home doing the nothing all day?

Chris, you're terrible.

So, what are we dishing about?

Janet's husband...

- I love him. - ...hit her.

You're kind of painted into a corner now, Mom.

I-Is this chair being used?

Yes. For Donna's purse.

Oh, Kate Spade.

You know she killed herself, right?

Well, geez, Mom.

What exactly do you think passes

as acceptable brunch conversation?

It's lady talk, Chris, you don't get it.

Oh, speaking of, I know we said no more presents

after we all got taken in that gifting table Ponzi scheme,

but I could not help myself.

I got tickets to Magic Mike Live.

Oh, sorry, Chris,

you... I didn't get one for you because I just assumed,

you know, it wasn't exactly up your alley.

Well, you assumed right.

The Quahog production is family-friendly.

They only do the parts where Magic Mike works odd jobs

to secure a business loan for furniture making.

Oh.

Uh, say, I was about to get a latte.

Uh, who wants one? My treat.

Actually, we were just leaving.

We're going to Mount Quahog so Chris can show us

how to walk while taking a business call on AirPods.

If you're not at a volume that ruins nature

for everyone else, you're doing it wrong.

Okay, enough. I am sick of you two

being so enamored with my dope son.

Ever since he joined that stupid team,

he's prancing around like some sort of fitness guru,

and you two eat it up with a spoon.

Well, I'm gonna prove Chris is the same little turd

he was a week ago by beating him in a race walk

and setting all of this back to the way it was.

Hey, that's a Kate Spade bag.

You know she killed herself, right?

Stop it.

See? They get it.

I hope that extra-strength trash bag commercial

was exaggerating what happens if you use the leading brand.

Aw, they weren't exaggerating.

Covered in rabbit stew.

The curse of cooking for one

is always the leftovers for many.

Oh, my God, coyotes. Brian was right.

Listen to me. "Brian was right."

I bet hell just froze over.

It's freezing in here.

You were just hot two seconds ago.

Well, now I'm cold.

Who's that?

You knew my sister was coming.

Her sister's here, too.

Help. Help.

Help.

Somebody's in trouble at Quagmire's.

And somebody's having a really hard time

with "Axel F" on the keyboard.

It's quite a mountain to climb,

but, oh, what a view.

Hey. Back off.

Brian, what are you doing? Get out of here

or they'll tear us both apart.

Don't worry, Quagmire, I know what I'm doing.

Brian, you saved my life.

But why? I-I've been a total dick all week.

Because... I'm a dog,

and it's my duty to protect this neighborhood.

We might hate each other,

but as long as you live next door,

you'll always be safe, on Spooner Street.

They got me, Daddy!

Take the extra Slim Jims out of your socks, Junior!

Take the Slim Jims out of your socks!

Okay, so we're all clear on the rules?

- No running? - No running, yeah.

Okay, on your marks, get set,

kazoo!

Hello, I'm Oscar-winning actr

and often-impersonated Christopher Walken,

here to announce this walking race.

Am I really him? I'm not even sure anymore.

Strangers come up to me doing better mes than me,

and I say, "Hey, that's me,"

but invariably, I learn it is not me.

I'm me, I think.

Look at them hoofing it through the streets of Q'hog.

That's some mighty fine walkin', and I should know.

Pause for laughter.

And look out up ahead,

because there's a patch of wet cement

that has been freshly smoothed

by a very satisfied ethnic worker.

"Oh, come on," says the man,

slamming his trowel into the wet cement,

further damaging it.

Oh, no, he's injured his hamstring.

Dramatic music.

Congratulations, Mom.

- You beat me fair and square. - Said Chris.

No, Mr. Walken, w-we're-we're done with you.

Christopher, you lost on purpose, didn't you? Why?

Because I want you to win this race, Mom.

You looked out for me by getting me involved in sports,

now I'm looking out for you.

You need Bonnie and Donna more than I do.

Aw, thank you, Chris.

Also, adult female friends swap nudes

way less than I was led to believe.

Like, basically never.

And that was not an insignificant part

of my involvement in this charade.

I just wanted to tell you again, Chris,

I really appreciate what you did for me with Bonnie and Donna.

It's all right, Mom.

Once I realized that being in a woman friendship

didn't involve the sending back and forth of nudes,

I was kind of over it.

Yeah, yeah, you mentioned that before.

Well, that's how important it is to me.