Original subtitles

Do you, Peggy Wanker, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?

I do.

And do you, Mel Gibson, take Peggy Wan--

Oh, he does. He does! He does!

You'll never guess what happened at the store.

Tongue caught in the shoe sizer again?

Civilians don't realize what a sophisticated piece of equipment--

All right, tell me what happened.

You know that new aerobic center up above me.

The one with the sign, "Quarter-ton discount."

Well, today they played Van Halen's "Jump."

And damned if the whole herd didn't. It was awful, Peg.

The ceiling opened up. Down they came, blocking out the sun.

I experienced cellulite winter.

God, the "humongity." Peg, I could've been killed.

Well, I think you got what you deserved.

Going by there every morning yelling, "Is that a Milky Way on the floor?"

Hey, hey, hey. I was helping.

They lost more weight wrestling for imaginary candy...

...than they did twisting to Hammer's "Please Don't Hurt Me."

But now onto the sadder side of the news.

The store decided to lay me off while they fix the ceiling.

As an added bonus, as long as the store is closed, I don't get paid.

Oh, my God.

Can the economy stand the hit?

Do you think that you can?

Don't worry. I told them I might not be there when they call me back.

And what did they say?

Well, they said that they'd-- They'd take their gamble.

Oh, hi, kids. I'm afraid I have some bad news.

I'm afraid the wacky, luxurious lifestyle we've become accustomed to...

...is no longer. The Bundys of Bel-Air are no more.

Yes, Daddy's been laid off.

Well, we won't lose Tara, will we?

Oh, Al. Surely you can see the humor...

...in a man who makes no money saying he lost his job.

Yeah, I mean, come on, Dad. That's like Kelly saying she lost her mind.

I don't get it.

At least it's not just us. Everybody's feeling the pinch.

Money's tight all over.

Come see our matching BMWs.

Well, they're not exactly matching.

- My license plate says "love her." - And mine says "love him."

Al, why don't you get a plate that tells the world how you feel.

Because "kill me" was taken by your father.

Excuse me, but if only to rub this in my father's face...

...can you tell us how you can afford that?

Well, as anyone with a little bit of business savvy knows...

...these are the times that make millionaires.

And paupers.

Anyway, I can't go into details...

...but through a little inside tip in the stock market...

...I'd say I made a penny or two.

You made $60,000, you little honey puddle.

- I did not. - Did too.

- Did not. - Did too.

All right...

...I did.

Oh, yeah? Well, my Al here made a penny or two. Literally.

His is coming from Unemployment because he's lost his job.

Think you could loan us a couple of bucks?

Just enough to keep that Mary Kay lady from breaking my kneecaps.

I could do better than that. As a wise man once said:

"If you want a man to eat, don't hand him a fish...

...teach him to be a fisherman." So, what do you say, Al?

You want to come to my club...

- ...and bus tables on fish night? - It doesn't pay much...

...but no one will look if you take butter back to the wife and kids.

Daddy, please, please!

Get away from me, you prideless vermin.

I was not born to be a busboy.

I'm a shoe man, born and bred, damn it.

There's not a shoe store that wouldn't pay $1.25 an hour to have the best.

You hear my words. I will not let my family starve.

I will not.

We're already starving.

Listen, Dad, there's something at school you might be qualified for.

What? Principal? Vice Principal? Dean of Boys?

Well, a security guard's not too bad.

Got a cool uniform.

Sense of independence. Little stick.

Let all wrongdoers beware.

Those who would perpetrate evil must answer to me...

...Al Bundy, security dude.

Oh, God, this can't be happening to me!

Can this be true?

Am I not a man I laughed at as a child?

Hi, Dad.

Hi, son.

It's not the way it looks. I was just crying on the floor.

Yeah, Dad, I know.

I thought we were going to a club.

And remember our deal.

We go. You pay.

And if I don't find anybody cool, I'll come sit next to you for a while.

Dad, this girl really likes me.

Can I have some money?

Son, I know you see the uniform and you think:

"Another millionaire working school security for kicks."

But once I wore a different uniform.

A prouder uniform.

Once I roamed these halls like a king.

- Dad, please. - Look at that trophy over there, son.

"Polk High, City Championship, 1966."

I won that baby.

- I still remember the day. - Not the story.

It was the last game of the year.

Polk High versus Andrew Johnson High.

Two great teams of equal strength.

Dad, she's not wearing a bra.

Finally we met on the field of battle. It came down to two great players...

...yours truly...

...and a guy from Andrew Johnson High they called Spare Tire.

Why, because he was fat?

No. Because he wore one with a chain around his neck.

Anyhow, finally it came down to the final seconds.

Scoreless game.

We had the ball on the six-yard line.

They said, "Give the ball to Bundy."

Everyone knew I was getting it.

Hut one!

Hut two!

I got the ball, and I went through that line...

...like Grandma through a herd of cattle.

I was going for a sure six...

...when all of a sudden, on the one-yard line...

...looms Spare Tire waiting for me.

We collided like two bull elephants.

When it was over, they were shouting only one elephant's name...

...Al Bundy.

I scored, son.

The winning touchdown.

And, son...

...that's the story of the greatest sport moment in all of history.

Some say your knee was down before you crossed the--

My knee was not down!

That's a dirty, stinking lie.

The victory was ours.

For the school, the championship.

For me...

...All City and the legend.

And then your mother.

The end.

Oh, God.

You know, my Dad got like that. We shot him.

You thought he was my father? Heck no. Dad's his name.

You know, like, Pops, the janitor?

Dad, the security guard.

I'm telling you, he's not my father.

Does the term "sympathy feel" mean anything to you?

Oh, what the hell.

All is well.

Oh, I guess it's time for a little security guard break.

Yeah, this john ain't so bad.

Gee, honey. Think you might change your shirt today?

Why bother?

What can I do when I'm branded and I know I'm a man?

I must find my bull.

Oh, honey, you do the best you can.

It's just that it's dark at night and you get groggy--

Not that bull, you winny-ninny of a woman.

My championship bull.

If only I had a clue.

Get that, will you, Peg?

Gee, Al, it's a note.

"If you want the trophy, come to Johnson High at 8 tonight...

...alone, or the trophy dies.

P.S. You stink."

Gee, honey, this must be someone who knows you.

This sounds like the clue I'm looking for.

This man sounds like he knows something.

I'm going after him, Peg.

I might not be coming back.

Oh, honey, please come back.

You're worried about me, aren't you, babe?

Of course I'm worried.

Tomorrow's garbage day. I'm not getting up early to lug it out.

You.

Spare Tire Dixon.

Why'd you do it?

Why'd you steal my trophy?

I took it because it belongs to me.

That was our championship.

You never made it past that goal line.

I dropped you like third-period French.

Your knee was down.

- Was up! - Was too!

- Was not! Not. - Was too! Too.

- Not! - Too!

Wait a second. What were we talking about?

Let's see, I didn't get no dinner. Knife come through the door.

- Ran out of gas. Had to push it. - Kids took the car.

- Oh, yeah. - Oh, yeah.

- Trophy. - Trophy.

The trophy you cheated me out of.

Should've been mine, Bundy.

Headline should have read:

"Spare Tire crushes unidentified white man at goal line."

I was supposed to play college ball, but it never happened. You know why?

You're too stupid?

Well, it was because after that game I fell into a deep depression...

...and I turned where too many kids before me turned to drown sorrows.

Pie.

Come trials, I could no longer get in a three-point stance...

...unless there was a pie on the floor.

My career was over.

You stole the glory that should've been mine.

I had a little glory, yeah, but you had pie.

And I haven't eaten in 19 years.

I'd give you that trophy right now for a piece of pie.

So pardon me if I don't cry for you, Argentina.

But I sell women's shoes, and I'm married.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I'll bet your mother-in-law doesn't look like this.

You know, my mother-in-law looks like this.

Okay, okay.

Let's talk quality of life.

Let's talk my best pair of socks.

Nice try, Spare Tire.

But get a gander at my best socks.

Now, step aside, because I'm taking that trophy back where it belongs:

To Polk High. And not for me, but for the children.

So they can look at that trophy and know that they too can peak at 17.

Give me my trophy.

You want that trophy?

Well, here's how you can get it:

There's the line, Bundy.

The only way you're taking this trophy is by getting past me.

Come on, Bundy, on the count of three.

Three.

Let's rock.

Nice run, Bundy.

Nice-- Nice hit, Spare Tire.

We were two pretty good athletes back then, weren't we?

And we're still great athletes!

I'm hurt real bad, you know.

Me too.

I can't get up.

Me neither.

Sleepytime nap?

Oh, yes.