♪ Good morning, U.S.A. ♪
♪ 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, U.S.A. ♪
The Channel 3 Noon Report,
with anchor partners Greg Corbin and Terry Bates.
News that's independent, proud and unashamed.
-Good news to report today, Greg. -Sure is, Terry.
The threat level has just been lowered from yellow to blue,
prompting across-the-board reductions in security measures.
This is the first time the threat level has been blue,
same color as my handsome coanchor's eyes.
-Stop. -Come on now. We've talked about this.
-Learn to take a compliment. -Thank you.
See, now how hard is that, huh? All right, let's check the freeways.
Hey, they just lowered the terror level. I saw it on the news.
Sweet. Wanna play backgammon?
Do I?
Well done, fellas. Our country is a full color value safer.
Hey, everyone. The boss just said we could take a half day.
All right! I got stuff to do.
-Wanna get baked and ride the escalators at the mall? -Do I!
Roger, take something out or close the refrigerator.
Nothing looks good to me.
You know what looks good to me? Francine bent over that sink.
Klaus, calm down. Well, you're home early.
Well, that's my reward for making the world a safer place.
That and this magnificent government paycheck.
That's my Stan the Man.
-Here's your allowance, champ. -Wow, a whole five bucks.
-Yeah, I'm gonna need change. -I can't buy a Game Station with this.
You know, when I was a boy, five dollars was--
Tell you what. I'll give you $10 not to tell me this story.
Oh, what's this? Smells like crap.
That should be empty. I had my soup for lunch.
Honey, why is there a biohazard symbol on your thermos?
Let me see that.
This is not soup.
This is the scene in Langley Falls, Virginia,
where the Smith family's been quarantined in their two-story Georgian Colonial home.
Actually, Terry, it's an updated Cape Cod. The shutters are a dead giveaway.
You're right, Greg. Thanks for correcting me. That's how I learn.
The Smiths have been exposed to a biological agent
which will eventually liquefy their internal organs.
We have a computer-generated image of what that might look like.
-But I must warn you-- this is not for the squeamish. -I'm not gonna look.
Oh, no, this is a nightmare.
Don't worry, honey.
You know how the media sensationalizes everything.
Hey, friend, what's the real deal?
The good news is you're not going to die-- -See there?
-What a relief! -Thank God!
-Wunderbar! -for 24 hours.
Which is just enough time for you to learn
not to interrupt someone when they're talking.
Don't worry, Tony. We'll find a place to build that homeless shelter.
Thanks for all your hard work, Hayley.
-And thanks for walking me home. -Oh, my God!
-Hayley! -They let me come say good-bye.
I'm gonna miss you guys.
Hey, how come she gets to live?
Because I was out helping the homeless,
-while you were here being a loser. -Oh, yeah?
Who's the loser now, loser?
-Mom! Steve just infected me. -Nobody likes a snitch, Hayley.
I don't believe this. We're all gonna die!
Yeah, tough break. Can you hold this for me?
-What the hell are you doing? -Measuring for drapes.
As soon as you're dead, I'm gonna completely redo this place.
I'm thinking something vibrant, like a seafoam green.
Oh, 'cause I'm gonna need a lot of happy to get over all this sad.
Ooh, dimmer switches. Dimmer switches everywhere.
What makes you think you're gonna survive?
My species is immune to all human ailments.
-So explain that cold sore. -Mind your own business!
Oh, stop bickering. Time is precious.
We have to make the most of our last 24 hours together.
Your mother's right. We should all sit together as a family
and watch the entire first season of 24 on DVD.
Well, that was bold television, and we still have a minute to spare.
I can't believe I'm gonna die a virgin.
Aw, sweetie, there was a 70%, 80% chance of that happening anyway.
-Daddy? -No tears, damn it! A Smith dies with dignity.
Kids, I've been tough on you, but only because I love you so very, very--
-Right, I should probably wait. -This is it!
Look!
I was just snoozing.
You're alive. We all are.
That clock's always fast. Let's give it a few more minutes.
Good news. Apparently that batch of virus was inert, so that means--
-We're going to be okay. -Yes.
Although apparently your manners died years ago.
You're welcome.
-Hey, what's wrong, honey? -We're alive.
I know, and that's good.
But, well, when I thought we were gonna die,
it made me realize how little I've done with my life.
And now I guess I'm feeling... unfulfilled.
Unfulfilled? But I've given you everything you could ever want.
You clean, you cook, and once a week we lie together
as husband and wife in sexual congress.
What's going on?
Hi. Barb Hanson, Exposition Realty. Let me bring you up to speed.
Your virus scare prompted these folks to put their house on the market.
-Any questions? -No, that was very concise.
Give me a call if you ever need a real estate agent.
-I'm also a hand model. -Sweet Sean Hannity, your hands are lovely!
-Uh, come on, Francine. -Oh, boy, she seemed so confident.
And the way she wears that smart cranberry blazer with her company's logo.
-Her life must be so exciting. -You could do what she does.
-You think? -Absolutely.
We will absolutely get you a real estate costume.
Oh, you'll look adorable. And I'll dress up as a sea captain,
-and we can take pictures. -I mean a real job.
No, no, it'll be great. I'll be Admiral Finch from the 58th Flotilla.
And you'll be Lady Constantina, my real estate agent.
And we'll promenade around the neighborhood, delighting young and old alike,
-with our saucy banter. -I can't be a real estate agent just because you say so.
It takes years to get a license.
You leave that to me, milady.
-Barb Hanson? -Yes?
Go!
Wait. Go!
What? What's going on?
Congratulations, you're in real estate. Adorable.
Wait a minute. This is Barb's stuff.
-What happened to her? -She'll be fine.
Hi. Barb Hanson, Exposition Realty.
Mind if I borrow one of your napkins? Thanks.
-You let your wife get a job? -No, no, no. It's more like a hobby.
You know, something to keep her busy until Stan the Man gets home.
-I used to work in real estate. -What are you, gay?
I was when I worked in real estate.
Once I stopped selling houses, my sodomy cleared up like that.
You know what's so wrong about gayness?
If there are two men, who has the vagina?
No kidding. You need a vagina.
Yeah, vaginas are great. Wish I had one.
I did it!
-I sold my first house. -Hey, who's my big girl?
-And such a nice family. -Oh, they're just the movers.
The new owners are Greg and Terry.
What were you thinking? We don't want their kind in this neighborhood.
-You're overreacting. -Overreacting? Overreacting?
Do you know what those two are?
Reporters. That's right, Francine. Members of the liberal media.
Stan, not all journalists are bad. You like Brit Hume, don't you?
You know damn well I like Brit Hume.
Just give Greg and Terry a chance.
All right, but if I-- What? What the hell?
Dimmer switch. Huh? Huh?
Oh, I'm sorry. Too fabulous? I hate this place.
Oh, I haven't even told you the best part.
Look at my commission check.
Incredible. That is more than Stan the Man makes in a month.
And that's just for one house.
Ooh, you have been emasculated
by the superior earning power of your little Hausfrau.
Ah, oh, God, stud! Stud! Hit the stud!
Well, you're in a pickle here.
I agree. In a relationship, money is power.
Look, this is just a bump in the road.
Francine's like a puppy. Sure, she's having fun chewing her new bone
and selling a few houses, but soon she'll get bored
and go right back to ironing my shirts and scooting her ass on the carpet.
Open your eyes, Stan. Your very manhood is at stake.
-Oh, that's crazy. -Is it?
When my wife started working, I didn't think twice,
but she kept earning more and more money.
And then one day-- Bam!
And I didn't even get to say good-bye.
-Hmm. -Your very manhood is at stake.
Your very manhood is at stake. Your ver--
Okay, that's it. We're not gonna carpool anymore.
Here's to Mom. She's finally cast off the shackles of domestic servitude
and realized her potential as a smart, independent woman.
Hayley, how would you like a punch in the face?
Oh, I have a little surprise. I bought you all presents.
A donation for my homeless shelter.
Fifty bucks towards my Game Station.
A tie? When do I ever wear a tie?
Thank you very much, Mrs. Smith.
You paid? You said you were going to the bathroom.
-I did both. -Well, you can just do it all, can't you?
Gang, we still need a hundred bucks for that Game Station.
Don't worry. I have a plan.
Toshi, you have a video camera, right?
Wow, that's a lot of words for "Of course."
I get it. We can sell Toshi's camera and get the money.
Whoa, Barry. Why do you always have to make everything so complicated?
The plan is quite simple really.
Toshi will borrow a camcorder from his parents.
Meanwhile, Snot and I will find some lovely ladies willing to go wild,
in exchange for a little financial aid.
We'll have ourselves a little photo shoot.
After that, we make thousands of duplicates,
direct market the tapes on late-night cable television.
And then we retire
and live out our days playing video games.
I got to admit. I wasn't sure about you fellas,
but sometimes you just wanna be around other men, you know?
-It's nice to meet you too. -Yeah, thanks for, uh, dropping in.
I envy you guys.
Just a couple of unmarried studs enjoying life to the max.
-Actually, Greg was married once. -I was confused.
Is that why you're here, Stan? Are you confused?
Things are strained between me and the missus.
The whole balance of power in our relationship has shifted, and, well, I don't like it.
Oh, I don't blame you. A healthy relationship should be a partnership.
Well, it's never really equal. Someone always ends up on top.
Yeah, but you know, sometimes it's okay to switch.
-Really? -Mm, down the line.
I think I hear what you guys are saying.
I'm the man, and I have to reclaim the power in my marriage.
Hey, thanks, fellas.
-Take a picture, why don't you? -I'm just being polite. It'd be rude not to look.
Forgive me, Francine.
I'm only doing this to save our marriage.
What am I thinking? This is the woman I love.
That's better. Oh, damn it! I'm such a softy.
There's gotta be a better way to put her out of business.
-Uh, excuse me, are you Francine's boss? -Yes.
Go! Go! Go!
-You're all under arrest. -For what?
-Possession of cocaine doughnuts. -Those are powdered sugar.
Put it in a rap song, jailbird. This office is permanently closed.
-What are you saying? -I'm saying you're fired.
Oh, for God's sake, somebody pay Mr. Trump.
So you're sure we can use this house for our video shoot?
I overheard my mom say it's been on the market so long, everybody's forgotten about it.
Eavesdropper. You should respect her privacy.
You guys got beer, right?
'Cause we're not going wild and exposing our breasts without beer.
Gotcha covered.
What?
We are going neither wild nor totally wild at a homeless shelter.
But we are taking your beer.
Hayley, you ruined everything. What are you doing here?
I'm giving these poor, forgotten people a new lease on life.
Um, Hayley, I think Phil is dead.
Now we'll never get a Game Station.
Au contraire, my dear Snot.
Hey, honey, I just heard the news.
Too bad about your office being closed down.
Well, looks like I'm making more money than you again.
I'd advise you to write an offer soon, Randy.
Mortgage rates aren't going to stay this low forever.
-That's real estate chatter. -Silence, you fool.
She's closing a duplex at four percent over list.
Francine, what the hell is going on? You were fired.
That's passive past tense, Trump. You don't own that.
Stan, I'm on the phone. Sorry, Randy.
I'm working out of my home office these days.
-Here you go, boss. -Boss?
I'm Miss Smith's assistant. Can I get you something while you wait?
-Uh, a bottled water. -It's not cold. Is that all right?
Uh, forget it.
Fran Smith and Associate.
Hold her calls. Francine, I want you to stop this nonsense.
Nonsense? This job is my career.
No, my job is a career. This is just some silly housewife's hobby.
Oh, yeah? Well, this silly housewife loves her hobby.
She's good at it. In fact, she kicks ass.
So her big career man husband
-is just gonna have to deal with it. -I could have assassinated you.
-What? -Nothing.
It was my house first.
You can't stand in the way of progress, butt-face.
Hey, hey, what's going on here?
Steve's making the homeless men in my shelter
beat each other senseless.
It's called "Bum Fights." I'm gonna make a fortune selling tickets.
It's exploitation. You're making money off their pain and misery.
All right, Hayley, I'll handle this. Let me get this straight, Son.
You're pitting desperate, downtrodden men against one another
in a violent confrontation for profit?
-Yes, sir. -I'm in.
What the hell is going on here?
Ask Dad. He stole my whole Bum Fights idea.
He won't even give me a piece of the action.
Okay, I want this to be a class act. I'll introduce you both,
you'll shake hands, and then I'll throw raw meat on the floor,
and whoever beats the crap out of the other one gets to eat.
Dad, you were supposed to shut this down. You're degrading these poor men.
That's ridiculous. I'm giving them jobs and self-esteem.
More importantly, I'm giving them costumes and a backstory.
This is The Garbage Collector.
He's got his own catchphrase, "I'm taking out the trash and sorting it."
And this guy, this guy, he grew up in the bayou,
living with alligators, wrestling with alligators.
I call him The Aviator.
Fight night's already sold-out. I set up a ring. Fans can make bets.
I even put out some nice mixed nuts.
No! Those are for people.
I can't believe you muscled out your own son. You stink, Dad.
Oh, come on, what's more important?
Your hopes and dreams or me making more than your mother?
-This is pure exploitation. I'm gonna tell Mom. -Go ahead.
Then your homeless pals will be right back on the street,
where the nights are cold and the fights are meatless.
This isn't over.
Yeah, it's been that kind of week, girlfriend,
but, uh, hey, T.G.I. hump day, huh?
Roger, who are you talking to?
Tammy, down at Mencer Escrow. We're phone buddies.
Did you copy those title reports?
Tams, I gotta go. Yeah, the boss is being a real "Catch 'U' Next Tuesday."
Stan the Man is back. Here you go.
Just my little way of saying you can keep your little job.
-A diamond ring! -I also got you a mink stole.
Oh, my God! But, Stan, can we afford this?
Well, you can't, but I can.
-But how did you get-- -Shh. Smile for LeRoy Neiman.
-He's painting us right now. -That's LeRoy Neiman?
I know, I thought he was black too.
I've gotta hand it to you, Dad. You really pulled it off.
Or did you?
You unionized the homeless?
Yep. This is the Fighting Bums Local 302.
Yeah!
Here are our demands.
"Longer red lights at freeway off-ramps. Free doggy day care.
Human dignity"? I can't meet these demands.
Then you better start refunding everyone's money,
'cause there won't be any bum fights tonight.
-No! You can't take my money. -Don't sweat it, Dad.
I found a bum who's willing to scab.
Now all you gotta do is dress up like a bum and fight him.
Son, you're a lifesaver.
All right, where's the bum who's stupid enough to step into a ring with me?
Who the hell is that?
-He doesn't have a name. -What do you mean?
He killed his own name.
Ptooey!
My God, Steve! You couldn't get me The Aviator
or The Tickler or Pillow Hands McGraw?
No way! Not me! I ain't no scab!
Dad, this is suicide. You're a weapons expert.
When was the last time you fought hand-to-hand?
I'll be fine, Hayley. You never forget how to fight.
It's like beating up a bicycle.
Don't let it eat my heart.
This is a wonderful starter home.
I've been saving it for a couple just like you.
Pretty soon we're gonna be more than a couple.
Oh, congratulations. I just thought you were fat.
-We're adopting. -Let me show you the backyard.
It's the perfect place for a baby to play.
Oh, my God!
Stop it! Stan, what are you doing?
Leave my husband alone.
-Look, that bum's wife has to jump in and save him. -What a wuss.
Oh?
It's a knockout. My dad wins!
I lost a pile of dough on that one-thumb psycho.
Me too. Let's exit quickly.
I did it. I'm Stan the Man.
-Not really. -We paid this guy to take a dive.
-Then bet everything on you. -This whole thing was a setup?
More of a performance piece. Hi. Ted Fiedler, method actor.
I'm also a hand model.
No!
-Stan, why did you do this? -Oh, money.
You make more of it than me. I'm a failure as a man.
You big dope. Don't you get it? We're a team.
I know, and you're the owner. I get it.
No, Stan, we're equals.
We share everything, good and bad.
You don't have to feel threatened by my job.
So, you mean, when you succeed, I succeed.
Exactly.
Hey, I was gonna hitch a ride home, but I bit my thumb off.
-So use your other one. -Right. Thanks.
Hey, teach a man to fish, huh?
I made you fresh coffee.
-Have a good day at work, partner. -Shh!
Interest rates went up this morning by a whopping 20 points,
sending mortgage rates soaring.
Uh, smart play locking us in on that low fixed rate, Terry.
-Thank you. -Said the man who is finally learning his own self-worth.
This senseless rate hike by Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan
has jeopardized the fragile U.S. economy
and put every real estate agent in the country out of work.
That's a shame. I'm sorry, hon.
Can I keep this mouse pad? I'm keeping this mouse pad.
Oh, well, at least I had some fun,
and you learned there's no need to be threatened by my success.
Absolutely. Go, Team Smith.
It's Stan the Man. Release Greenspan's schnauzer.
Fannie Mae!
That's all for the morning report. We'll see you at noon.
And I'll see you tonight.
-Greg! -Oh, relax. Everybody knows.
Bye-bye. See you soon.