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I want you to sit down so I can wash this horrible jacket.
Enough! I don't want to hear another word out of you guys.
Sit down.
Boy, you really did it this time, didn't you?
You really did it.
I just want to thank you boys
for the most embarrassing night of my life.
We are the only family in 12 years
to have been kicked out of Wacky Jack's Pizza Pagoda.
Takes a lot of work to get kicked out of a restaurant
that has a trampoline and a batting cage.
But, Dad... No buts. That's it.
It was Wacky Jack's fault.
He was making those stupid faces at us.
He's a clown. That's his job.
We didn't do anything. (mimics) We didn't do anything.
Does this look familiar? Wacky Jack's nose.
You pulled it right off his face.
It's not his real nose. I don't care whose nose it is.
Don't pull things off people's faces.
Hey. You know what you guys are gonna do?
You're gonna take this nose, you're gonna put it in an envelope,
you're gonna sign a little apology note and send it back to Wacky Jack.
And right now you're gonna get out of my sight.
Go up to your rooms. March. March. (Jill) Hup. Hup.
(Jill) If I hear any noise upstairs, I'll be up there.
And if I have to come up there, you won't want me up there.
We weren't even doing anything. Now.
We want to watch Full House and we didn't do it. No.
I just want you to know I'm innocent.
Innocent?
Pouring salad dressing down your brother's pants?
Oh. You saw that? Yeah. I saw that.
Tim, this is pathetic.
We've sunk to a new low.
Pizza.
Yeah, if you take off those mushrooms first.
Those aren't mushrooms, honey. I'll pass.
Would you nuke that for me? Nuke it yourself.
(makes chimp noises)
Don't give me that. You cook for us all the time.
Me barbecue. Cook outside with flame.
Microwave inside, cook with magic.
Flame good, magic bad.
Microwave good, man stupid.
(chimp calls)
Easy, monkey boy. Fire's our friend.
Hey.
(chimp calls)
Tim, come on.
You're gonna drip cheese all over my stove.
Not to mention burn the hair right off my knuckles. Man.
(children arguing)
I'm gonna count to three
and then I'm gonna be up there! One, two...
Dad, Brad and Randy are doing bad things.
Unless it involves human sacrifice,
I don't want to hear about it.
OK. I'll let you know.
Little baboons. Where do they learn this stuff?
Possibly from the big baboon.
(inquisitive grunt)
Yes, you. You encourage their bad behavior.
I don't encourage bad behavior. Oh, yeah?
Tonight, when Brad spit his chewing gum
across into that plant, you cheered.
Jill, that was a 10, 12-foot arc, easy.
Right into a six-inch pot, man.
Michael Jordan couldn't have made that shot. Huh?
And I did tell him to stop, too.
Oh, yeah, after you gave him a standing ovation.
I may be wrong, but I think that's sending a mixed signal.
Enough said.
Now, what are we gonna do about our boys' table manners?
You should give a refresher course. Me? What about you?
Honey, I'm a man. What do I know about manners?
I see. So, table manners are the woman's job.
Historically, Jill, yes, that's the case.
Emily Post, Amy Vanderbilt
and, of course, who could forget Miss Manners?
I don't recall an etiquette column called "Ask Chuck."
"You know, Chuck, I've been eating pot roast all my life,
get that little gristle piece stuck in the middle of my tooth.
"Do you suck it out with the tongue or ask somebody to do it?"
"Help me out with that..." Tim. Tim. Listen.
You are the one that encouraged their bad behavior,
therefore you should have to be the one to teach them good behavior.
We should do this together. No, no. You're the transgressor.
I never wear your clothes.
All right. I do like that taffeta gown. I feel...
You know what I'm talking about... so pretty.
What do you want me to do?
I want this family to get through a meal
without the boys throwing their food
or gargling their milk or talking about boogers.
A meal without boogers. Hm.
That's it. Never gonna happen.
I can give you a perfect meal. Yeah, when?
When's gonna be this perfect meal?
Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night,
I'll sit the boys down, we'll have a man-to-manners talk.
You are going to have three perfect gentlemen.
(Randy) Come on! (Brad) Wow!
That's it. (boys) Look at that!
What is this?
What are you... Where are you going?
Brad and Randy threw my mattress out the window.
That's it. I'm coming up there!
Honey, honey, honey, you don't have to...
So... Al and I have finished that subfloor.
And next time we'll show you how to lay down
tongue-and-groove hardwood flooring.
Al, what size floorboard do we use on that, Al?
Tim, they're three inches wide by one eighth of an inch thick.
They'll be fastened down by driving a nail at a 45-degree angle
through their longitudinal tongue.
Ow! That's gotta hurt, huh?
But we do that to hide the nail, don't we?
That's right, Tim.
I know that sounds complicated, but it's not.
And what you'll end up with is an absolutely beautiful dining-room floor.
Speaking of dining rooms, that brings me
to today's Tool Tip for Tool Time.
It's about etiquette. It's a big word,
so get out your dictionary.
See, a dining room need two things to be complete.
A floor... (chuckles)
and manners.
See, when men are together by ourselves,
we don't worry about manners, do we,
'cause, hey, we don't need 'em.
You're at the ball game, what's better than
a mustard fight with your buddies or...
spitting beer. "Hey, buddy!" Hey!
My personal favorite,
jamming two big French fries up that nose, act like a walrus.
(honks)
Hey! It's guy stuff.
And women don't appreciate guy stuff, and that's the truth.
I don't think a woman really understands
the diaphragmatic control it takes
to do all of the vowels in one belch.
A-E-I-O-U-fff...
Manners. Use manners. It shows you're civilized.
It tells women you're civilized, and they'll keep doing things for you.
So always remember that.
Use the correct fork, put the napkin in your lap.
And always -
I do mean always -
excuse yourself when you lose a little pressure.
Because I want you to remember, men,
the first three letters of "manners" are...
(grunts)
See you next week! (grunts)
(♪ theme music)
Look, Tim. I found this broccoli in Randy's dirty clothes.
Hm.
Either he's hiding it or not digesting properly.
Oh! You are so disgusting.
What is all this? Teaching my men some manners.
With wooden blocks. Rehearsal food, that's what that is.
Well, gee, I hope they don't like it.
I don't have any recipes for wood.
Sure you do. That meat loaf that you like so much.
I don't mean to criticize,
but is this where you want to put the napkins?
No, I want it in the proper spot.
There you go.
That was right in the first place. Hey!
You don't really think I can do this, do you?
I didn't say that, Tim.
Come on. You don't really think I can do it.
Say the words. Say it, say it.
Sweetheart, I just think that you cannot teach
that which you do not know.
Really? Really.
I'll have you know that
that which you think I do not know is that which I know.
No, no, no.
If I can't whip these boys into shape... What, what?
I will give you anything you want. Anything?
And I think I know what you want.
No, no, no, Tim.
That would be the consolation prize.
I was thinking more along the line of,
uh, season tickets to the opera.
Argh!
(Jill laughs)
That's a Greek word, isn't it?
"Death by music."
You said anything. If that's what you want, fine.
But if I want to see a screaming fat lady with horns,
I'll go to your mom's house. Yeah!
Now, listen, buddy. A deal is a deal.
I'm gonna go call the Michigan Opera Theatre
for ticket information.
(♪ hums "O Mio Babbino Caro")
You're wasting your time.
Mark!
Mark! Yeah, Dad?
Mark?
What are you doing under there, sweetheart?
Smelling the inside of the trash can.
Why are you doing that?
Brad said he would give me a quarter if I did.
What, is Brad, like, the garbage fairy now?
You go inside and wash up. OK.
Randy. Brad! (distantly) Yeah, Dad?
Home now! How goes it, good neighbor?
Hiya, Wilson. What are you making over there?
Building a porcupine trap.
Really? Mm.
I don't think there's a whole lot of porcupine
in the Detroit area, are there?
Aha. But if you build it, they will come.
What do you want, Dad?
I want you to go sit down at the table, all right?
Hey, Brad. Can I have a moment with you, please?
What? Your little brother
was underneath that garbage can, smelling it.
Where do you get these ideas?
They just come to me.
Why don't you go sit down? I'm gonna teach you boys some manners.
You owe me a quarter! No way!
Dad! That's enough. That's enough, you guys.
Cut it out. Stop running around. Stop, stop.
Come here. Sit down. We've got work to do.
Sit, sit, sit. What are we doing?
We're sitting down is what we're doing. (groans)
Now... I love you boys, but you are bad news
in the table manners department, so we're gonna have a crash course.
Why? Why?
Because of what happened in the restaurant last night. That's why.
I told you, it was that stupid clown's fault.
You ought to go back and punch him out, Dad.
Hey.
Never hit anybody with makeup - that's the rule.
Bottom line here, we are gonna have a civilized meal...
and I set this table nicely. Put those back.
A civilized meal means, Brad,
no hitting, pinching, kicking,
all that jazz at the table you don't think I see. I see it. Don't do it.
And, Randy, none of these gross-out stories.
The boogers, the scab stuff. Scabs that talk to boogers...
Dad, you want to talk about food?
Hey. Hey. Food.
Perfect. Let's talk food.
OK. Well, today in the cafeteria,
we made Bobby Devers laugh so hard,
he shot peas out his nose.
No way! It was excellent.
Yeah, but did it have snot on it? Ohh!
We're not gonna talk snot tonight.
You're gonna come down the stairs like little princes,
sit down, clean and washed up, and look around
and say, "Good evening, Mother."
Mom's not here. Yeah, pretend she's here.
I'll be Mommy. No, you won't. Don't be Mommy.
That scares me when you say stuff like that.
Have a seat here.
Don't mind me - just pretend I'm not here.
It'd be a lot easier to pretend you weren't here if you weren't.
I won't say a word. Do you need any help?
Thanks, honey, but I've got it all taken care of.
By the way, I did call Michigan Opera Theatre.
There are plenty of good seats available.
You guys gotta help me out. Gotta help me out.
Let's take care of this. If we don't do this right,
I'm gonna spend the next year at the opera.
(both yell)
All right, focus, focus, focus.
Eating is not just a necessity - it's a job.
And like any job, you need the proper tools.
These are the tools of the trade.
Fork, knife, weaker sister - the spoon.
Help me, help me, help me.
Almost useless, crude instruments by themselves,
but together they form the mealtime triad of power.
(all grunt)
Tim, I hate to interrupt this gruntfest,
but dinner is less than two hours away.
Thanks for reminding me, pookie. Thanks. You're welcome.
Now we gotta hustle up. We gotta hustle up. Just the ba...
Take the knife out of your mouth, please. Please?
Just the basics, quick. All right.
Tonight's dinner, do not eat with your hands.
Well, what if we're having chicken?
Well, for...
Chicken outdoors - use your hands,
chicken indoors - knife and fork.
What about live chicken?
A live chicken?
Brad, who the hell do you hang out with?
Mom! What?
Dad's cussing. I'm not cussing.
He said a bad word. It wasn't bad.
Yeah, he said "hell" and "damn."
I did not say "damn." Now you did.
Control, here. Control. Control. That's it.
You guys now...
(shudders)
We do exactly as Dad does. Listen up.
Sit up straight. Sit up straight.
Straight. Sit up straight.
Elbows off the table, Randy. Randy, elbows.
Stop that. Stop that.
Stop that. Stop that!
Stop that. Stop that. Stop that...
Enough. Enough. Enough. Stop that, that's enough!
Stop that, that's enough!
Don't repeat me! Stop that, that's enough!
Stop that, that's enough, don't repeat me.
(♪ opera)
Stop that, that's enough, don't repeat me.
(bang cutlery in time)
(cat yowls)
Wilson? Hiya, Tim.
Sounds like you caught your first porcupine.
No, just Mrs. Foley's cat. (cat yowls)
Easy, Fluffy.
I'm trying to calm him down a little bit before I set him loose.
He's not hurt, is he? No, no, no, no, Tim.
This is a humane trap. (cat hisses)
Course, that's my opinion, not Fluffy's.
So, how was the powwow with the boys about the table manners?
Wilson, I don't know.
Those kids sit down to dinner and they go nuts.
Tim, Tim, Tim. The problem with your boys
is they don't know how to channel their mealtime aggression.
Mealtime aggression?
See, Tim... primitive man was a hunter.
He had an intimate relationship wit his food.
Lot of dating with wildebeest going on? No, no, no.
I'm talking about a spiritual intimacy.
They were at one with their meat.
(inquisitive grunt)
The hunter would stalk and kill his prey,
then pay homage to the animal spirit.
He would give thanks to the animal for giving its life.
But the primitive man in us is confused.
Today our food comes to the table.
We don't know how it got there.
Hm. Gives you something to think about
when you open a can of Spam, doesn't it?
Yes.
Thanks, Wilson. I think Fluffy has calmed down now.
There you go, little buddy. Freedom.
(cat meows)
(dog barks)
(cat yowls)
Well, with freedom comes responsibility.
(all talk at once)
Enough. Enough. Enough, guys.
Your mom wants one quiet meal and I'm gonna give it to her
if I have to duct-tape you yard apes to those chairs. Quiet.
OK, we'll do whatever you want tonight. Can we go now?
No, no. You can't go now, because I'm gonna tell you something,
I know the reason why you guys get nuts at the dinner table.
Because you don't have an intimate relationship with your food.
You don't respect what you're eating.
You're not getting this. Let me show you what I mean. Hm.
This is the chicken we're having for dinner tonight.
Oh, yuck. That looks gross.
That's exactly my point.
This bird gave its life so you could eat.
You should thank the bird.
Dad, have you lost it?
You're just missing it.
You don't get it. It's simple.
You guys would lose your mealtime aggression
if you had to hunt it and kill it yourselves. Hm.
Tell you what.
I'll be the chicken, you be the mighty hunters.
Stalk, hunt me, kill the chicken.
(clucks)
(high voice) What a wonderful day to be a chicken and alive.
Buk buk buk.
Oh, God, it's hunters. I'd better run.
Flee. Run. Flee.
So they couldn't catch me. Flee.
(normal voice) Run. Stalk, hunt, kill me.
Kill the chicken!
(all) Kill the chicken!
(panicked clucks)
(Tim, high voice) Kill the chicken.
(normal voice) All right. I think the chicken's dead.
The chicken's dead.
But the spirit of the chicken's still alive!
Aw.
We gotta eat this thing now.
I am not eating that. There's grass all over it.
Does that bother you? Yeah.
It's all dirty, gross, disgusting.
Ho, ho, ho.
Haven't we learned something?
You know what?
I think what's dirty and disgusting and gross
is when you guys come to the table
and tell all your booger and scab stories.
Fight, kick, yell.
I think manners aren't respect for food,
but respect for people around you, maybe.
You guys understand any of this stuff?
Yeah. Yeah. Kind of.
Well, why don't you think about that before tonight's dinner?
Now what do we do? Whatever you want.
Kill the chicken again!
Randy, honey, do you want some more mashed potatoes?
No, thank you. How about you, Brad?
No, thank you. ( ♪ "Madame Butterfly" playing)
"No, thank you." "No, thank you."
That's very polite.
Tim, I got to apologize. I thought you couldn't give me
one quiet meal with the boys, and you did it.
We can kiss off Madame Butterfly, can't we?
Not so fast.
I mean, you didn't really teach them manners.
You just exhausted them.
Take what you can get.
I might just do that.
(grunts)
I'll be going upstairs now.
You want company?
No. Just you.
(grunts)
Shouldn't we take the boys to bed?
Nah, leave them.
It'll only take a minute anyway.
I'm feeling pretty spry, honey.
Maybe a minute, five, a minute, ten.
When laying down that hardwood floor,
you could use a hammer and nails, but (snorts) why would you?
That'd take forever. I think what we need here is...
(audience) More power!
I was thinking right along those lines myself.
And look what Al brought us out here.
The Binford 3-11 series B power nail driver.
Thank you, Al. You're welcome, Tim.
That's etiquette. Always thank your coworker.
Try to say something nice. Al, good-looking slacks.
Whoo!
That bad boy's raw power. (grunts)
The kind of power you need to attach a phone book
to a cinder-block wall. Doof, doof, doof.
Tim? You might want to remind our viewers
that the Binford 3-11 has that new safety lock.
I'm sure it does, Al.
Well, it's been completely redesigned. Doof, doof.
Al, I grew up with these things.
Heck, that is a little different to what I'm used to seeing, isn't it?
Well, all safeties are basically similar.
Very impossible to shoot it when you don't want to shoot it.
(gun goes off)
Ow. Hey.
(high-pitched) Tell you what.
We're goin' to a break right now.
Get me out of this. Boy, that's gotta hurt.
Yeah, Al, it does. Feels kinda like that. (gun goes off)
(Al) Argh!
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