♪ Good morning, USA ♪
♪ I got a feeling That it's gonna be A wonderful day ♪
♪ The sun in the sky Has a smile on his face ♪
♪ And he's shining a salute To the American race ♪
♪ Oh, boy it's swell to say ♪
♪ Good morning, USA ♪
Funny, I always wanted a pool filed with cherry Jell-O.
Well, in the end, I got it.
I got a lot of things on my rise to stardom,
women, respect,
that joke about the 10-inch pianist.
I can't believe I never got that before.
And I can't believe this all began just a few weeks ago.
Stars, they're just like us.
Oh, here's Tara Reid buying a gallon of vodka
and a case of morning-after pills.
I drink gallons of vodka! I should be a star!
Ah, what a good night's rest.
I had that wonderful recurring dream where
I'm giving a lecture naked, and I'm a resounding success.
Now, how about a kiss?
Good God, Francine! Your roots are showing!
I know. My hairdresser
lost his touch when he decided he was straight.
-Apparently, it is a choice. -Yes, it is.
Absolutely.
Anyway, the only good hairdresser left is Mr. Beauregard.
But it's impossible to get an appointment unless you know somebody.
But you do know somebody, Francine. You know Roger.
Oh, wait. He's just a nobody.
Don't cry in front of the fish.
Morning, Steve. I packed your favorite lunch, PB and J.
With the crusts cut off and cherry Jell-O!
Someday I'd like to have a swimming pool
filled with cherry Jell-O.
Anyway, Dad,
my English teacher, Mr. Durban, is your biggest fan.
Can I get your autograph for him.
Sure.
"To Mr. Durban. Keep on rockin'. Yours in Christ."
Dad, that's Steve's report card.
You're failing English.
-What? -What do you know?
And I'm getting straight A's.
Well, that's great, sweetheart. Congratulations.
Hey, it's been a while.
Steve, how could you be failing English?
It's not my fault. My teacher hates me.
Hates you, huh?
Well, perhaps I need to pay Mr. Durban a little visit.
Well, what a nice visit.
Oh, Mr. Durban, the pleasure was all mine.
And thanks, Lynn, for the delicious maple scones.
Can we have another pony ride?
Oh-ho, no. This old horse has to get back to the stable.
Oh, uh, Mr. Durban. I almost forgot.
I wanted to ask you...
Why do you hate my son?
Shut up! Don't look at me!
Get on the floor! You, get me more maple scones!
Why are you failing my son? Answer me, dirtbag!
He had his Japanese friend do his writing assignment.
Look.
Oh, I see. Well, good night.
Good night, Lynn. Oh, don't get up, kids.
Seriously, stare at the floor and count to a hundred!
Go ahead, Eric. Be a hero.
That's what I thought, punk ass.
♪ You'd think that people Would have ♪
♪ Had enough of silly Love songs ♪
-I look around me and I see it isn't so! -What?
-I mean, why'd you cheat? -I'm sorry.
It's just creative writing is hard. I can't do it.
"Can't?" We don't live in "Ameri-can't," Steve.
We live in America. No.
No, no. No, wait. We live in American.
No, wait. That's not right. We are American.
Where, where was I goin' with this?
Um, I said creative writing is hard.
Oh, yeah, yeah. Uh, perseverance, Steve. It's all about perseverance.
And if I "Ameri-can't" teach you about it,
I have a friend who "Ameri-will."
Well, that sounded good. Had a bumpy start there, but I think I pulled it together.
Steve, meet Patriot Pigeon.
You wrote a children's book?
No, Steve, I wrote 3,012 children's books.
Each chronicling the adventures of Patriot Pigeon,
who battles America's enemies by dropping red, white and blue turds of justice.
Wow! So how many of your books have been published?
None. See that?
That's over 10,000 rejection letters and counting.
-Gosh. I'm sorry. -I'm not.
You see, Steve, true success isn't about getting recognition or fame.
It's about never giving up. So what do you say?
Have I inspired you to do that writing assignment?
-No. -How about now?
That's the hand I write with.
That's negative thinking.
Hey, how about a story where a boy's hand
is glued to a table and he slowly starves to death?
That's good stuff. Thanks, JC.
Aw, I don't know what to write about.
Aw, I'm never gonna be a star.
People are never gonna see me in US Weekly and say,
"Ooh, Roger... picks up a vase just like us."
Ooh, Roger drops expensive vases just like us.
Oh, Roger... Roger starts to black out just like...
Oh, Mr. Beauregard, I feel born anew.
Well, of course you do, darlin'.
I use genuine human placenta.
That's where it gets its luster.
Mr. Beauregard, I... I would love for you
to put expelled uterine matter in my hair.
Hmm! If I were you,
I'd take your hair behind the shed and shoot it.
Ride, Montague.
Anything for me?
Just a postcard that says your hair looks like crap.
Hey, it's from me. What's this?
"P and Q Publishing."
Oh, good. Another rejection letter.
"Dear, Mr. Smith.
It is with great pleasure that we have decided to publish your book."
What's goin' on? I'm gonna be published!
Oh, glorious day!
All those wasted years of writing finally have meaning.
What about all that stuff about not needing recognition?
Oh, that's what people say when they're dead inside.
Now, let's see which one of my Patriot Pigeon books they're publishing.
"Roger the Alien"?
Hey, that's the story I wrote for English.
What?
You wrote a story about me?
I'll take that, Dad.
Ha. Mr. Durban said he was gonna submit my story to a publisher.
So, it's not Patriot Pigeon Poops on Planned Parenthood?
A book about me?
I'm gonna be a star! Steve, you're the best!
Oh, my God, Stan! How upset are you?
Seriously, on a scale from one to pissed?
Oh, who gives a flying fig? I'm a star!
So now, I was a published writer.
But my life had become boring.
As boring as a bad metaphor... or a simile.
Whatever, I'm not a writer.
Got any tips for a young author?
Oh, I don't want to be recorded.
No, it's inspiring music to accompany your answer.
♪ I believe I can fly ♪
Um, just write something and it'll get published.
It's easy. Any idiot can do it.
It's not fair, Francine.
I write 3,000 books and...
I write 3,000 books and nobody's ever asked me for an autograph.
Don't you see, Stan? You're Steve's father.
He couldn't have done any of this without you.
And people are gonna know that.
Yes. Yes, people are gonna know that.
Hey, everyone, I'm Steve's father!
He came from my seed! And she was the manure.
Ugh! Francine, when I look at your hair,
I doubt I could eat the amount I want to vomit.
The turnout at today's book signing was awful,
and I blame you, publisher man.
Actually, it's "Publisherman." Bill Publisherman.
Dad, it's okay.
I'm not into this whole book thing anyway.
Nonsense! You and I are gonna be big.
We're gonna be huge.
Just how big are you talking?
"Ginormagantuan."
Well, then what you need is to get Steve on Cap'n Monty's Book Cavalcade,
the hottest children's book show in Langley Falls.
Great! Put him on.
I'd love to.
But to get on, he needs to have the number-one children's book in town.
And to get that, he'll need a hook.
Right. We'll cut off one of his hands.
People love the disfigured... and fear them.
No, a hook, an angle, a gimmick.
Hmm.
Is the boy gay?
Why? Could that be a hook?
Hook?
Ah, a hook, a hook, a hook.
No.
Is it true? Were there really seven people at the book signing?
Yes.
Oh, my God! It's happening for me.
I'm almost a star. Oh! There's my cell phone.
Oh, my God! It's Johnny Depp.
Deppster! What's shakin'?
That's not a cell phone.
That's a bar of soap you painted black.
Yeah, hang on, J.D.
Watch it, Klaus, or I'm gonna cram this bad boy 20,000 leagues up your butt.
"Bad boy"? Steve, that's it!
You can be the bad boy of children's books.
-Huh? -Sure, sure.
The media loves bad boys.
Your book will fly off the shelves.
I don't know.
Look, Son, you do this for me,
and I'll use my CIA powers
to get you centerfold Janet Gustafson.
She's beautiful.
And she loves the bad boys.
And so began my dark descent all the way to the top.
♪ Bad, bad, bad, bad boy ♪
♪ You make me feel so good ♪
♪ You naughty, bad, bad Bad, bad boy ♪
♪ You make me feel so good ♪
♪ Knew you would ♪
♪ The way you hold me tight ♪
♪ You get me so excited ♪
♪ Bad, bad, bad, bad boy ♪
Francine,
I cannot let the mother of Langley Falls'
legendary bad-boy author look like this.
Shame on you. Scoot on in here, girl.
Oh, my God! Is it here?
You're so adorable.
Give me silly juice and watch me fall down.
What the...
And I'm ugly and my butt is huge.
I don't... I don't get it.
They are your catch phrases.
Roger, have you even read Steve's book?
You bastard!
Roger the clumsy alien!
Roger who sips his silly juice and goes on delusional rants!
And it's not silly juice! It's necessary juice!
Watch your back.
Ouch! Oh, that... Ouchies, ouchies, ouch.
You bastard!
Thanks to you, Dad spent all my college money
buying you Doctor Seuss's first typewriter.
You bastard!
That's what I said to my old ugly hairdo.
What's wrong, honey?
Aw, I hate being a famous author.
Do I really have to go on Cap'n Monty's?
Oh. Well, no. I suppose not.
Thanks, Mom.
Oh, Steve, just curious.
When did you stop loving Mommy?
-What? -'Cause if you loved me,
you wouldn't want me to have ugly hair.
But do whatever makes you happy.
I have to go put some ointment on that hideous cesarean scar I have because of you.
But Hayley was the cesarean.
Oh, that's right.
With you, I just tore from my "V" to my "A."
Good night.
Those were dark times as my family used and abused me.
But at least there were two headlights at the end of the tunnel.
Now do I get to meet that centerfold?
No. I just said that to motivate you so you'd carry me to the top.
Dad, I can't believe you lied to me.
Really? Huh.
That's, that's kind of my whole bit.
Hey, my first green room.
It isn't even green! Showbiz.
Steve. Kevin Broham, Dudemeister Management.
Huge fan.
So, how does it feel to be a superstar?
Well, I... I kind of hate it.
Let me guess. Your family's bustin' your boy bag like a bunch of gonad gangsters.
How did you know?
Bro, I see families exploiting the talented dude all the time.
I feel so trapped. I don't know what to do.
Good morn', mateys.
Today, Captain Monty sails his fair vessel
with precious cargo...
child prodigy, and most likely
ninth incarnation of the Buddha, Steve Smith.
Yeah!
Yea!
Boo!
Steve.
Steve Smith.
Even the name recalls simplicity... elegance.
Steve, welcome.
Steve, I'm not going to ask you about your influences
or your process.
In fact, I'm not going to ask you any questions.
I am going to tell you something.
And that something is,
you, Steve Smith, are a genius.
A "genius."
Argh.
Steve, I will ask you one question.
I know I said no questions.
I'm flawed, unlike you, Steve Smith.
Tell me,
whom would you like to thank for your success?
Here it comes, clown.
Well, Captain Monty,
I'd like to thank my new manager Kevin
for helping me fill out the paperwork to divorce my parents.
-And the shoes. -I want the shoes.
Slowly, pretty boy.
Yeah, you're a pretty boy,
with a pretty pair of shoes.
The court ruled in my favor,
and I was finally free of my parents.
Did the book make me rich and popular?
Yeah.
Did it all go to my head?
Oh, yeah.
Did I start talking like Robert Evans?
You bet your ass I did.
Did I even know who Robert Evans was?
Not by a long shot.
Francine. Stan.
Stop this nonsense, Steve.
Dude, his name is S now. And S does what S wants.
And S wants to C-L-T-D-F-H-C.
Cut loose the deadweight from his coattails.
There should be a "W" in there.
Get in the trunk, Barry.
They were gonna miss me all right.
But I didn't miss them.
I was too busy tending to my stately pleasure dome, Steveadoo.
I had rooms filled with the finest antiquities.
Rooms devoted to girl-on-girl action.
Scintillating.
I kept my chums nearby in my "I don't need any family" room.
And the coup de grace,
my pool filled with cherry Jell-O.
Mm, success.
Oh! That little creep is living the star lifestyle I deserve.
Well, he's gonna learn that he's messing with the wrong muchacho.
Ow! Ow! Stubbed my toe! Stubbed my toe! Stubbed my toe! Stubbed my toe!
Worst part's over. Worst part's over. Worst part's over.
-What are you doing here? -I want you to come home.
Yeah? Well, you can forget it.
You used me and you lied to me.
Guilty as charged.
But I'm gonna make good on it all.
Starting with that centerfold I promised you.
Here she is, centerfold Janet Gustafson.
That's not her! She's ancient.
Well, sure. The magazine I showed you was from 1957.
But she still loves to party.
♪ For Steve ♪
♪ I fell ♪
♪ In pain ♪
This is your idea of an apology?
Sulu, Chekov!
Hello, old friend.
Hope you don't mind me dropping by...
to kill you.
Strange. This window shouldn't be open.
And this window shouldn't be closed.
Aw, this should all be mine.
I mean, not this color scheme. P.U.
But everything else should be mi... Oh, God!
This bust of Ben Stiller is hideous.
But it should be mine!
Bravo! That was the gumball machine Henry Ford gave to Hitler.
S, we didn't do it.
Yeah, right.
You're all just a bunch of users like my parents.
Get out! All of you!
Guess I'll be cutting the crusts off my own sandwiches from now on.
Great. Who tracked mud on my floor?
Hey, your knife goes real well with my novelty alien hand.
And how great is my new horror-movie ring tone?
Dude, where'd you go?
Well, come into the kitchen.
What up?
S, meet Spike Baltar.
Spike Baltar, you're my favorite actor.
Wow, you look just like me.
That's because he's gonna play you in the movie version
of Roger the Alien, and he's totally method.
Wow, I'm so happy I could die.
It's me.
I gotta take this.
Yeah, the kid's a total douche.
And his voice...
I'm Steve Smith.
I wrote Roger the Alien.
I'm Steve Smith. I was never molested
on the set of a mustard commercial when I was nine.
Die, dream stealer!
Oh, my God! I... I killed Steve.
Hombre, what's the matter?
It's just I kinda miss my family.
"Bro-sickle," I'm your family now,
and this dude is never ever gonna leave you.
Never.
Spike Baltar's dead in your pool.
You're finished. I'm out of here.
I'm comin', Steve! I'm comin'!
I didn't mean to kill you!
Roger?
That's not me in the pool. That's Spike Baltar.
Wait. You were trying to kill me?
So this is all your fault.
Oh, yeah. Blame the alien.
The cops will eat that up.
Sorry, pal, you're goin' to jail,
where they're gonna take your cherry...
Jell-O... away...
in the lunch line...
after you're raped... in the shower.
Well, this is where our story started.
Only the dead kid isn't me.
That was kind of a screw to the audience. Sorry.
If it makes you feel any better, I was drowning all right,
in a sea of troubles.
And there was only one place I could turn.
It's good to have you back, Steve.
It sure is. And I'm sorry I pushed you so hard.
From now on, the only thing I want recognition for is being a good dad. Ready?
One, two, heave!
Au revoir, stardom.
Oh, did I tie that to Steve's ankle?
Guess I'm clumsy like he wrote in the book.
How do you like that ending, Steve?