Original subtitles

Stan: Credit where credit's due.

This is the greatest game of hide and seek

you've ever played, Roger.

"To: Francine"?

"Can I see your boobies in fourth period?

Circle Y or N?"

She circled N, but I can see where she circled Y

and erased it!

These are all old love notes. Why is Francine saving these?

Aha!

Hiding in plain sight as one of your personas.

I got you, Roger! Ow!

Focus, Stan.

You know the difference between Roger and a real spider.

[ Squeaking ]

Roger?!

[ Squeaking ]

♪

♪ Good morning, U.S.A.

♪ I got a feelin' that it's gonna be a wonderful day ♪

♪ The sun in the sky has a smile on his face ♪

♪ And he's shinin' a salute to the American race ♪

♪ Oh, boy, it's swell to say

♪ Good-- ♪ Good morning, U.S.A.

Aah!

♪ Good morning, U.S.A.

♪

♪ It's the shaving song, we're in the leg zone ♪

♪ Where the tibia meets the talus bone ♪

♪ No need for cream, that stuff's for chumps ♪

♪ Press the blade down hard and-- ♪

Shaving your gams for Corey D?

Who's Corey D?

From third grade.

He thinks "you're berry cool."

You went through my stuff?

I was looking for Roger.

You haven't found him yet?

He's in the--Don't tell me where he is!

What I did find is this shoebox

filled with love letters to my wife!

Are you threatened by these?

They're just momentos I save so our grandkids'll know

Mee-Maw was a smoke-show.

There is a world where I could be overreacting.

Promise me you'll put those letters back

and stop worrying about them.

Of course, my love. This is the end of it.

Your mother and I are getting a divorce.

All: What?! Unless...

we determine none of these old paramours are threats.

Your mother's been saving old love letters behind my back.

I've assembled this command center at We Work

as a last-ditch effort to save our marriage.

Maybe she just likes to look back at memories.

That's what she told me,

but until we comb through every word,

I have to assume the worst.

I already have the divorce papers written up.

I'm gonna pin them here to motivate you.

We're on it, Dad!

If we suss out that any of these losers are still

after our mom, they're freaking dead!

Yeah. Sorry, "Tony," but my mom

doesn't care that you think her hair is

"shinier than the sun."

You better back the freak off!

Yeah! And listen to this clown.

"Francine, let me swim around in your mouth--"

Oh, this is from me when I was obsessed with her.

And I can freaking shove off already!

[ Sniffles ]

- What is it, Jeff? - It's...

It's over, Mr. S!

This man writes beautiful poetry to Mrs. S.

These words make my heart freaking pitter-patter!

"Francine, your skin as soft as oleander petals..."

"...weeping willows..."

[ Gasps ]

"...gentle breeze upon the Nile."

Oh! It's so good.

And, look, there's more of them!

This guy's been writing these for years!

Who wrote this gorgeous crap?

It's anonymous.

C.I.A.? It's one of my coworkers?

You know what you have to do, Dad.

I have to go to the C.I.A.

and find out who's best at poems, right?

And then rip out their freaking throat!

The drug lord Eisenrich has been--

Dr. Weitzman, why are you sleeping in our conference room?

I got dumped, and my girlfriend

got my apartment in the breakup.

I should have known that contract she gave me

on our first date wasn't just for "funsies"!

Don't get me started on funsies contracts.

That's how I got saddled with my ex's alligator farm in Orlando.

Ohh, I should go work on my lab stuff.

As I was saying,

we finally located the drug lord, Eisenrich.

He's in the jungles of Brazil.

Shoot. I was hoping Orlando.

Sir, sounds like you'll need an agent with poetic prowess.

Allow me to test the agents.

I don't see how poetry can--

Dick, perform a haiku about Brazil.

Brazil is a nut.

I have two Brazils in my pants.

Terrible. Jackson, describe this painting.

Orlando!

Let's try something different.

Would you describe my wife's breasts as,

A, large; B, medium;

or, C, a tonic which could heal all that ails the human spirit?

I'm gonna say D, cool!

How about I print these

and let you all fill them out individually?

The main office printer is busted.

You can use mine.

I've got a poem!

Orlando is great, Orlando is fair.

Will you buy one of my "alligaytares"?

[ Gasps ] The logo!

It's Bullock!

I can't murder my boss. He could fire me!

Wait, wait! The poems are anonymous.

Mom doesn't know they're from Bullock,

so he can't be a threat, right?

Of course he's a threat!

Those poems are insanely romantic,

and Francine is keeping them, which means she's into it.

One second alone with Bullock, he mentions Robert Frost,

and the "road not taken"

definitely won't be her "bajima."

Maybe you could try to be more romantic

like the poems, Mr. S.

Let me try.

Ahem. Francine, your hair is like...

the noodles.

- A failure! - We're done!

Divorce! Which noodles?!

The only way to settle this is to put Bullock and Francine

in a situation where they are alone,

and we see if Francine goes for it.

How do we get them alone?

- A car accident. - Yes!

Tons of romances start when a hunky dude

accidentally bumps into a sexy lady.

There's a motel on the side of the highway

that's super romantic.

We can cause - the accident there. - Perfect.

I need to see them a mustache hair's away from boning.

Yeah, we all do!

♪

Everyone in position?

Yep, we bribed the front-desk workers $40

to let us have an empty room.

The rooms cost 40 a night,

so pretty sure you just rented a room.

There, I just lit over 200 candles.

Had to raid the Halloween decorations for 'em though,

so they're all little smiling pumpkins.

But it's still sexy as hell in there!

I told Bullock there was a dope owl he had to see,

and I told Francine the same thing.

They should be here soon.

Now for a little flat tire.

♪ This is the shaving song

♪ We're in the leg zone

Shit, shit!

[ Screaming ]

♪ No need for cream ♪

♪ That stuff's for chumps ♪

♪ Press the blade down hard and...♪

Aaaaah!

[ Car crashes ]

Plan B.

Rose petals?!

No way my insurance covers this place.

Are you trying to get me and Bullock to hook up?

I was seeing if you would hook up if given the chance.

He's the one who writes you those poems.

Bullock?

You're the author of those amazing poems?

Oh, those transcendent poems aren't from me.

They're from you.

I'll explain, but can I please see this dope owl first?

Oh yeah, sure.

[ Hooting ]

- Wow! - It is dope.

♪

So this is me?

Sort of. There's a part of you in it.

You see, when an agent joins the C.I.A.,

we do a lot of effed-up things

to ensure you are successful killing machines.

One of those is the irreversible operation

of removing the romantic lobe.

How does romance get in the way of C.I.A. missions?

Romance always gets in the way.

[ Printer whirs ]

"Goddess Francine,

I must have done something beautiful in a past life

to be blessed with your presence!"

Goddess?

Okay!

This is from me!

It made Francine blush, and it's from me!

Exactamundo.

And this espresso machine has Dick's romantic lobe.

Espresso truly made with love.

The mini fridge is Jackson.

Because he has a cold heart!

You keep them all in your office appliances?

Yes. The lobes act as a power source.

No need for charging, batteries, or unseemly plugs.

Oh, sick.

Even sicker, the printer adores you.

When it began printing poems,

I couldn't bear the thought of them not being read,

which is why I mailed them.

I'm taking this. Why?

Because with the printer, we are a perfect couple.

I have my romantic side back!

That's crazy.

We aren't bringing a printer into our relationship.

[ Whirring ]

"Francine, allow me to take us to dinner."

A spontaneous date?

I guess that is kind of romantic.

See! Let's give it a spin, baby.

[ Man crying ]

Dr. Weitzman, are you still crying down there?

Yeah, sorry.

Your heart is broken, and my printer was just stolen.

Grab your ATM card and your tightest pants.

We're going on a three-day bender!

All my pants are the tightest.

♪ La-la la-la

"Ode to Francine on the gondola of love.

Though I cannot move myself, you move me the way

the water moves beneath us."

Oh, I can't finish it.

Stan, this is beautiful.

It says it's for the gondolier.

Uh, these are-a song lyrics.

Sing them!

♪ Kiss her hand, rub her feet

♪ I'll create chemistry

♪ Because love can be a science ♪

♪ When you've got a romantic appliance ♪

Wait, - what is this about? - Just keep going!

♪ I'll say how to treat her right ♪

♪ Like a dance in the moonlight ♪

♪ No need for self doubting

♪ When I'm printing how to keep from drowning ♪

♪ With my ink and my toner

♪ She'll fall straight on your boner ♪

Ew!

♪ Romance you cannot give her ♪

♪ Without me, your romance printer ♪

♪ Gently take her in your arms ♪

♪ Squeeze her tight without harm ♪

♪ If I could do that to her ♪

♪ It would be me instead of this dumb loser ♪

♪ I'm in no luck, I'm a cuck ♪

♪ Watching him give her

♪ A lame [bleep]

♪ Because love can be a science ♪

♪ But she won't love an office appliance ♪

Roger?

Oh, this is beautiful.

Starts with lots of descriptions.

Here, Francine, I just thought of this.

Aww, thank you.

Do me a favor and grab that one yourself.

Francine: "Francine, this isn't from Stan.

It's from me, Printer.

Run away with me.

A queen like you deserves better than this beastly oaf."

Uh, Stan, I think the printer is turning on you.

Of course it's turning on me.

It is me. It wants you all to itself.

It's trying to hurt you.

It's playing.

The printer has already made our lives more romantic.

I don't need our lives to be more romantic.

I just need you.

Give it one more chance.

We made reservations tomorrow night

at that very romantic restaurant.

I'm gonna need all hands on deck.

They have waiters that wipe crumbs from your table.

I'm gonna eat so messily.

We can keep it around...

[ Motor starts ]

Roger!

Just the lawnmower!

[ Steve vocalizing ]

♪ Where the tibia meets the talus bone ♪

Oh, Printer, I didn't know you were in here.

"Handsome"?

[ Chuckles ]

Keep that up, and you can have

the knife, the cheese, the--

Oh, okay.

Wait. What are you up to--

[ Printer whirs ]

Okay, you're trying to murder Stan.

Time to go.

Where is it?!

If you stole it, I swear on your hat--

Put Jeff down.

I dumped the printer on the side of the road.

It's evil, Stan. It was trying to murder you.

So! So?

I don't want you murdered.

I'm canceling the date.

I can't do it without my romance crutch.

You don't need it.

I know I don't. You do!

You're the one - who needs the romance. - No, I don't!

You're not listening to me about what I'm telling you you need!

We're not canceling.

I'm getting tiny pieces of bread in my cleavage

whether you're there or not!

Okay, well, you saying cleavage got me back in.

He stretched out my shirt. He owes me a new shirt.

Shh!

Bye, Bullock!

A pleasure doing a bender with you!

Wait, this isn't the office.

[ Printer whirs ]

"Hello...

handsome"?!

Can we take a break?

We've been up writing poetry all night.

You call this poetry?

"And that's why Mom-- I mean, Francine-- is so hot."

Is it 'cause I wrote "Mom"? I'm exhausted!

Oh, relax.

You took a three-hour nap in the corner.

We know you were wearing fake eyes!

He's wearing them now!

[ Snores ]

Hayley, hit me.

I wrote an acrostic.

I spelled out Mom's name and added adjectives

for each letter describing her.

"'F' is for Fat"--

but in a good way, like with a "Ph."

"'R' is for Rack for days.

'A' is for Ass for days"--

Stop. It's solid. Best we've got.

- Good job, Hayley. - Really?

I can't believe you rejected "Roses are red,

violets are blue, like a gale force wind,

into my life you blew!"

You can't rhyme "blue" with "blew."

They're different blues!

It's time for your date, Mr. S!

Wish me luck, team!

You won't need it with that poem.

Oh, look at Hayley.

One good poem, and she thinks she's ready for

"Late Night with Walt Whitman."

Right, Steve?

Steve?

I need to get some [bleep] sleep.

[ Down-tempo piano music plays ]

"...Ass for days.

'C'-- Cute face.

'I'-- Is cool.

'N'-- Not uncool.

And 'E'-- Eggs worked."

I guess that refers to your successful fertility.

You forgot the "N." Between "A" and "C."

That spells "Fracine."Shit balls!

[ French accent ] Good evening.

May I start you off with some very crumbly bread?

Yes, please.

And two piña coladas.

Stan, you just got crumbed, and you didn't even notice.

I'm bombing! Uh...

Your hair is noodles.

Your eyes are... noodles!

Your lips are... ah, I'm blanking here.

You got them little macaroni toes, I know that!

Is that... the printer?

Oh, hi, Smiths.

This is my new girlfriend, Printer.

I just gave her arms, legs, and a voice box.

[ Electronic voice ] Francine, I can finally speak.

It feels like my tongue was in chains, but I have broken free.

I should have said that!

Now that I am a complete man, we can finally be together.

What?! I-I thought you were a girl printer!

Sorry, no. I lied.

And then used you to gain leverage

over this disgusting pig.

He's not a pig!

You could have a zillion arms and a zillion voices,

and I still wouldn't want to be with you.

Let's go, Stan.

You should be with him.

He can give you the romance you deserve.

I don't want to be with a printer!

I did prepare for this.

[ Singsong voice ] Oh, goo-oons!

[ People murmuring, screaming ]

♪

Goons?!

You said I was making bridesmaids.

Uh! All the lies!

Espresso Machine, grab my love.

Yowch! You're piping hot!

Sorry about that, tootsie.

Stan, why are you just sitting there?

You won her fair and square.

[ Banging on door ]

Oh, Francine, is this all my fault?

I know it can be hard, but we have to trust

our significant others when they tell us how they feel.

I'm guilty too.

Looking back at my last relationship,

the printer told me many, many times that it was only using me.

You're right.

I've been insecure instead of trusting Francine.

Wow. I've never given a successful pep talk before!

Did you say something?

I-I was conferencing with my family.

I'm sorry to force you on this date, darling,

but it's clear you are still brainwashed by Stan.

Why aren't you tasting the wine?

Because you're a printer with no gullet?

Mmm. Notes of burning co-o-pper.

I heard this pairs well with having unprotected sex

with your printer.

Do you even have a dick?

How are we supposed to bang?

My extender tray is my dick.

I thought that was obvious?

I'm not putting that thing in me!

It's like a long, flat rectangle.

I'll get a new one. Go get Dr. Weitzman.

Francine needs me to have a less rectangular dick

so she can realize she loves me.

For the last time, I will never love you!

I suggest you listen to the lady.

[ Dramatic music plays ]

Stan, haven't you heard?

Never bring a knife to an ink fight!

♪

This is stupid. Just give me the gun.

[ Gunfire ]

♪

[ Groans ]

Stan! You came to your senses!

I'll never be romantic again!

[ Soft moaning ]

[ Deep electronic voice ] Coffee bean?

Wait, are you a girl espresso machine?

Uh... yeah. A real pretty one!

♪

I know you think I don't save anything of yours, but I do.

- In the junk drawer? - It's not a junk drawer.

It's momentos from our relationship.

Like the superglue you used to fix my Ed Hardy sandal

at the Gathering of the Juggalos.

And now I want to add this.

Why don't you do it?

You found me, Stan! Your turn!

199, 198...

Bye! Have a great time!

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