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Good morning.
Oh, hey, Brian.
I'm making all your favorite things for your birthday dinner this weekend.
Lactose -free lasagna and chocolate -free brownies.
Or, as I call them, crappies.
Um, actually, Mom, I was going to go hang out with my friends.
Don't you want to spend your birthday with your family?
Judy's turning 18. Let him have a wild night out with his buddies. Howl at the
moon. So, how are you going to spend your first night of manhood?
at Uncle Phineas' old -timey arcade and ice cream parlor.
Ah, geez.
And then after that, we're going to go check out some close -up action.
That's more like it.
He's talking about a magic show.
Sleight of hand.
And sleight of man.
And then we're going to cap off my birthday blowout with a late -night show
Magnificent Milton's Marionette Theater.
Wow. I did that on my fifth birthday.
And it was lame then.
Come on, Tina. You didn't have to say that.
Because we were all thinking it.
Ryan, forget that. You and me are going out together for your birthday.
Wait a minute. And not go see the marionette show?
Dad, the birthday boy gets to sit on stage in the old cobbler's shoe.
Son, son, son.
How I wish I had a son.
I'm still in love with you today.
Cause you make me happy.
Aiken is going on stage in one hour. Who's ready to soft rock?
Yeah, I'm sorry, Aunt Linda. I can't go to the concert. I have homework.
You're trying to blow me off. You don't do homework.
I actually was going to try to blow you off, but I really do have homework.
Well, um, okay, I can't go to a Clay Aiken concert without a teenage girl who
looks like a weirdo. Is Brian around?
Yeah, but he's filling out college stuff.
Okay, well, what are you working on? Maybe I can help you get it done faster.
have to write this poem for English.
I've been working on it all day.
Okay. I love poetry. Tell me what you got.
I like food.
It is... food.
I don't mean to be rude, but you are screwed.
See, I don't have a gift for it like you do.
Well, no, it's true. In high school, I, uh... Well, I was quite the poetess.
Crippling depression is a wonderful muse.
Anyway, why don't we head back to my apartment? I can give you one of mine to
turn in. Of course, you know, it is plagiarism.
Yeah, I can't. Because it's supposed to be a poem, not a play.
Don't worry, honey. I got poems, too.
How are the applications going?
They're taking forever.
First miller to go to college. And don't take it lightly.
Remember who's paying for it.
You mean the people who give out scholarships and loans?
And whose pathetic salary helps you qualify for those scholarships and
You know what? You're right, Dad. Your half -assery has really given me a leg
up.
And it's almost the least I could do.
But if there's any less, let me know.
DePaul? I thought you had a meeting scheduled with the recruiter from
Well, you know, I'm kind of leaning towards DePaul now. You know, it's close
But you said you liked Stanford's psychics program.
Physics?
Well, change your major if you want to, but don't base your decision on which
college is closer.
Well, if I went to DePaul, I could live at home. But if you lived at Stanford, I
could visit the O .C.
You know, your mother gave me a free pass on Misha Barton.
I thought you said LeVar Burton.
Either way, knock yourself out.
Sounds to me like you're afraid to leave home. You're turning 18, Brian. It's
time to start standing on your own two feet. Which means choosing the best
school. We're talking about your future here, of taking care of me and your
mother.
And don't we deserve a better life than the one we gave you?
All I'm saying is keep an open mind and go to that Stanford interview.
I'll think about it.
I'm worried about that one.
It's obvious he's scared to leave home.
Face it, Judy, these kids have it too good here. Three meals a day, we've
overfed them.
We've let Brian stay a little boy too long with the puppets and the magic and
the action figures. When you take him out tomorrow, tell him he needs to be
independent and push the Stanford thing. Don't worry, I got it covered. I'm
going to teach him everything he needs to know about being a grown -up man.
Aw, I spilled.
Arms up!
Wow, you brought me to a strip club for my 18th birthday.
No, no, this is a gentleman's club, and today you are a gentleman.
By the way, check any seat before you sit on it.
Fine, you're a grown man now. You're finally old enough to experience what
grown man fantasizes about in their every wake and hour.
An all -you -can -eat hot wing buffet.
Son, this place has to be a secret between you and me.
I get it, because you don't want Mom to know.
Oh, she knows. Who do you think brought me here when she didn't want to cook one
night? I just don't want this place to get too trendy. It'll lose its mom -and
-pop feel.
You know, I feel kind of weird about this. Nothing weird going on. We're just
father and son eating wings while all around women take their clothes off for
money. Isn't this great?
You know, it's been my birthday all day, but I didn't really feel 18 until right
this minute.
This is what your mom and I want for you, to get out in the world and spread
your wings, which is why we think you should reconsider Stanford.
Maybe you're right. I should spread my wings.
Yeah. Spread a couple of them over here.
Oh, you are going to love being an adult.
Not having anyone to answer to, being your own man.
That sounds great.
And in honor of this special moment, here's a little something from me and
mother. Happy 18th birthday.
Thanks, Dad. You didn't have to get me a car insurance bill.
You have to pay that from now on.
But it's a small price to pay for being your own man.
$500?
Hi, Keith.
No, no, no. He owes $500.
Well, is there anything I can do for you?
You bet. We are out of blue cheese.
poem I gave you. I hope it was okay.
Actually, it's been kind of a nightmare.
Really? Why? What happened? Teacher didn't like it?
No. He loved it. In fact, I have to read it at some dumb poetry contest.
Uh, the iambic pentathlon?
Yeah, I think that's it.
Just wish Mr. Unger hadn't made such a big deal about it.
What, Mr. Unger?
I had him. He gave me a C -minus on that poem.
Gave me an A.
And you're going to the pentathlon?
Oh, I never made it to the pentathlon.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute. I know what this is about. You are pretty and popular, and
high school, I was sexually confused and going through a very awkward stage.
More awkward than this conversation?
You know what? I have half a mind to tell that Mr. Unger that he is a shallow
and hypocritical man. Wait!
I just want to read this poem, pass English, and not have to go to summer
school, so nobody is going to tell Mr. Unger anything, okay?
Okay. Okay.
Suppose I should just be happy that my poem is being recognized and I have such
a popular and pretty name.
Pretty.
Pretty, pretty, pretty.
Way to peak early, honey. Enjoy your 30s.
I can't believe what just happened.
I went to pick up Brian from his tutoring job. Turns out he quit two
Well, that explains everything.
Well, I was just screaming at you to get me a beer. You weren't even in the
house.
I'm sorry about some of the language I used.
Hey.
Where have you been?
I was tutoring.
Don't lie to me.
I'm not lying to you. Yes, you are. You quit tutoring.
When were you going to tell us?
I didn't realize I had to. You have to when I don't know where you are every
day. So where have you been spending your afternoons?
You know what? If you don't mind, I'd really rather not get into it. I do
You have to tell me right now. Hold on. Hold on. A few weeks ago, I got a
lecture about how I should be more independent and make my own choices.
Remember, it was when I got my birthday present, the car insurance bill for
$500? Yeah, but... But... Say something.
Did you pay that? Because when I gave it to you, it was already past eight.
Yeah, Dad, I did pay it and a late fee, so I believe we're done here.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
I know this.
Damp? It's from that strip club with the wings.
Since when do you go there?
Dad took me there for my 18th birthday.
But that was weeks ago, and you're Mr.
Wash -My -Hands -Every -Day.
Oh, my God, there's tons of them. Is this where you've been spending your
afternoon? Well, if I had been, it's none of your business. Brian, I am so
disappointed in you.
You spend all afternoon at that strip club, and you don't bring any wings home
for me?
You're upset, but your mother's just worried about you.
There's nothing to worry about.
Listen, gentlemen's clubs may be great for the occasional hot wing buffet or
bachelor party, but going every day might be a little much. You know, you
to have a little self -control.
Self -control? Dad, when we were at the club, you ate chicken skin off the
floor.
Ah, suddenly Mr. Everyday Strip Club Guy's judging me for eating a tiny bit
floor skin.
Look, Dad, you guys want me to be an adult, but then you want to tell me what
do, and you can't have it both ways, so I'm going to be going to the strip club
whenever I want. And what am I supposed to tell your mother, huh?
Huh?
No, really, tell me, because you're smarter than I am.
I'll give you 50 bucks. That'll get you a few dances.
How'd it go up there?
Judy, I'm his father. How do you think it went?
Oh, my God. God, we've lost him forever.
This is partially my fault. I told him to be his own person and then I sent him
out his first night of adulthood with a man with a brain the size of a lima
bean. Which is the largest of the beans.
I can't just sit here and watch my little briber throw his life away on
nudie bars.
We need a way we can lure him back.
What could Brian like more than boobies, Judy?
So where is Master Brian?
The show's about to begin.
Brian, I...
I'm Judy.
Hello,
Mr. Puppet.
This is my husband, Bill.
Hello. Hidey -ho, Bill.
Mr. McDougal's the name.
Quite a grip you've got there, big fella.
Well, I did play football in high school.
Oh, really?
All stayed, actually.
Three times.
Bill, you're lying to a puppet.
That must be the birthday boy.
Wow, the magnificent Miltons.
What are you guys doing here? Happy birthday, Brian. I figured since you
couldn't see the show on your birthday, I'd bring the show to you.
Mom, this is really nice of you, but you should have checked with me first. I
have other plans.
What? But this is your birthday present. I know, and I appreciate that, but I am
an adult now, and I keep my own schedule.
Mr. McDougal, cream puff the bear, good day.
You're going to Legs, aren't you?
That strip club?
It's a gentleman's club.
Yeah, but still, during the daytime?
Creepy.
I'm leaving. Goodbye.
Well, it's official.
I don't have a little boy anymore.
One step closer and you're going in the fireplace.
He can do it. He's a good...
Well, I figured as long as we paid for them, they could entertain Tina.
Which they're not.
Oh, and who are you, Sammy Davis Jr.? Could you guys give us a minute?
Can the guy who's pulling my strings have a beer?
Sure.
I was expecting Brian home by now.
Supposed to meet with that recruiter from Stanford at six.
He didn't mention it.
I bet he's not even planning on going.
I don't like this. He's obsessed with that club.
And it's going to ruin his future. I'm going down there and make sure he goes
that interview. You're right, Judy. This is serious stuff. I'll just go settle
up with the puppets. Listen, guys, it was fun, but... You've got to see this.
They're playing soccer with a lemon.
And from the mountains, I do hear... Echo.
That's it.
That was Ethan Johnson reading his poem, Echo.
Our next participant is Lauren Miller reading her poem, Searching for Morning.
Searching for Morning by Lauren Miller.
Hi. Miss Dronger, it's me, Linda Michaels, Class 82.
National Merit Scholar?
Valedictorian? I'm sorry. I've had a lot of students since then.
Judy Michael's sister?
Oh, right!
How is Judy?
Truthfully, not aging well.
Anyway, I'm just here to see my niece, Lauren.
Oh, Lauren.
She's quite the poetess.
Yes, yes, she is. Um, just out of curiosity...
Has a poem happened to remind you of a certain C - poem that I wrote?
Not that I recall.
Well, why don't you listen to it? See if it sounds familiar.
Searching my soul, unable to find good, I went into the kitchen and I made
myself some food.
No, no, no, no. That's not my poem.
Come here.
What did you do to my poem? You changed the ending. What are you doing here? It
is supposed to end.
threw myself into the river, tied to a block of wood.
I didn't want to go out on a downer.
It's about suicide.
It is?
I thought it was about wood.
I've just completely mangled my work.
It's ruined.
I'm emotionally divorcing myself from the piece. I'm done.
And the winner is Lorne Miller.
Oh, my God.
What? Brian didn't tell me they have a build -your -own -burrito night. It's
lies on top of lies.
Excuse me, hi.
We're looking for a Brian Miller.
He's 18, brown hair.
Oh, he's in the fantasy room. And I wish you'd get him out of here.
I don't like what he's doing with those girls.
Did you hear that, Bill?
He doesn't like what he's doing with the girls. And he's a sleazebag.
Hey, a sleazebag with feelings.
Sorry. Judy.
Brace yourself. This is one of those things no mother should ever have to
I've never been more turned on in my life.
Now, who can point out the prepositional phrase in that sentence?
Brian Miller, what the hell is going on in here?
Really, what the hell is going on in here?
Mom, what is all this?
Well, I'm tutoring the dancers.
I needed money to pay for my car insurance, and when I was here with Dad,
found out that the girls needed some help getting ready for their GEDs.
So, sadly, it is what it looks like.
Hey, Brian, ain't you going to introduce us to your parents?
Excuse me, Brandy?
Oh, sorry.
Aren't you going to introduce us to your parents?
Very good. And no.
Mrs. Miller, I just wanted to say that thanks to your wonderful son, I'm on my
way to becoming a real nurse.
Oh, that's very nice of you to say, Nurse Chugs.
Okay, girls, I think we're done for the day.
Oh, wait. Brian, you forgot to give us our homework.
Oh, right.
Read chapter five.
Thanks a lot, Cinnamon.
I can't believe you took him down here.
Well, we didn't want you to miss your interview with Stanford.
Yeah, that was changed next week. If you're going to butt in my life, you
at least get the facts straight.
So this is why you quit your tutoring job at school?
Well, the ladies pay me more than the English department, plus they give it to
me under the table.
They pay him cash.
Oh, God.
Why didn't you just tell us? Well, I tried, but then you started yelling at
like I was still a kid.
You're right.
We should have trusted you.
But you've got to understand, we want you to grow up, but then when you do, we
worry whether you're going to make good choices. Did you go get a burrito?
Happy hour ends at six.
Okay, I hope this proves that I can make my own decisions.
I never thought I would say this in a strip club, but I'm very proud of what I
saw you doing here today.
Thanks, Mom.
Oh, God, I forgot to proofread Brandy's letter to her probation officer. I'm
helping her regain custody of her kid.
Did a good job with that one. Yeah, we did.
Well, here we are in the fantasy room.
Shame to let it go to waste.
What do you mean?
You got 20 bucks?
Sure.
Oh, Bill, you got burrito on my shirt.
Arms up.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah. All right. Nice.
No way those are real.
Who cares? If the wages comes back, get me another beer. I'm going to go hit the
cash machine.
Okay. Sister, shake it.
Wait a minute. That is my sister.
I wouldn't have it.
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