♪ Right back in my hometown ♪
♪ With my new family ♪
♪ There's old friends and new friends ♪
♪ And even a bear ♪
♪ Through good times and bad times ♪
♪ It's true love we share ♪
♪ And so I found a place ♪
♪ Where everyone will know ♪
♪ My happy mustached face ♪
* This is The Cleveland Show. *
Sync by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
Bitchin' bods! Totally awesome!
I ain't afraid of no ghost!
You ladies want a ride in my bran d-new '84 Trans Am?
Forget about those sophomore chicks, Terry.
We're graduating this year.
Class of '84.
Man, I can't wait for the 1984 Olympics this year!
It was 1984.
All right, you animals, listen up, now.
Our man Cleveland Brown is officially a legend.
Not only did he win last night's game
with a home run in the bottom of the ninth,
but Coach McFall said they're gonna retire his number
after the season.
To Hot Brown Number Nine!
Yeah! Yeah!
How shot J.R.?
Are y'all drinking beer?!
Hey. Wally Farker, right?
You want in?
It's Farquhar.
And no, I don't want in.
But in is what I'm gonna turn you--
in to the principal.
Oh, come on, all we're doing is letting off a little steam.
Don't touch me!
That's how you get AIDS.
Ha! What Wally doesn't know
is that I'm wearing a condom right now.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'm off to report you to the principal.
Uh-uh!
What you talkin' about, Wallace?
Hold this.
Uh, ew...
Hey, guys, look!
He's peeing himself!
Oh... no...
It's all over my thigh and pocket contents.
No!
♪ ♪
He peed on his thigh and pocket contents!
Hey, you want a cold one?
Does Amy Winehouse pick at her skin a lot?
Man, all this talk about the old baseball field.
Know what I say we do?
Start a fight with those old ladies
in red hats and purple dresses at the mall?
No.
Come on, get serious.
No, I was gonna...
Okay, seriously,
I was gonna say... Aw!
CLEVELAND: Yee-haw!
Ow!
Yaah!
Did you see me?
I was all, "Yaah!"
Now, if I may finish the point I was making earlier,
we should stop by the old ball field.
Oh, cool! Maybe after that,
we can drive over and visit my daughter.
I haven't seen her for a year and a half.
We'll see how we're doing on time.
Look at this place!
The bleachers are covered with racist,
occasionally hilarious graffiti.
I'm surprised the team can even play on this mess.
Oh, no, there is no team.
When Wally became principal,
he disbanded the baseball program.
Disbanded the team?!
But baseball's our slowly dying national pastime.
Oh, this is a worse travesty than that remake of Chinatown
with Miley Cyrus.
She's my sister!
She's my daughter!
She's my sister and my daughter!
Is that wacky tabacky?
Uh... no.
Oh, thank goodness.
You're good kids.
But watch the height of that five.
All fives must be shoulder-height or below.
Mm. Smells like a relaxing afternoon around here.
Hey, Wally, this school needs a baseball team.
Can't afford it-- not with the popularity of the Math Club
and the Fluffers, my a cappella singing group.
What if I could raise the money before the season starts?
Why not? I'd love to see you raise five grand in a week.
Thank you. I meant that sarcastically.
Oh. Well, then screw you.
Thank you. What?
You said screw me.
I take that to mean you're attracted to me.
I'm gonna walk away now.
Bye-bye.
Love baseball.
Love pound cake more.
These cakes got nuts in 'em? No.
Not allergic-- just don't want nuts in my mouth.
This guy gets it; this guy'll get it later.
Homophobia's no laughing matter.
Although, if you really think
about what they do to each other,
it is kind of funny.
I don't know how they're not giggling the entire time.
We've made $422 in five days!
We're on our way.
Terry, how'd you do?
I got us this check for $120,000.
How'd you do that?
Old moneybags Waterman gave it to me.
All I had to do was reach out and take it.
Oh, Terry, I have that donation you asked about.
But I'm carrying this large stack of books at the moment.
Perhaps you could just, um...
reach into my pocket and take the check yourself?
Eh, whatever's clever.
120 grand?!
Hey, thanks, Mr. Waterman!
You're good people.
Think nothing of it, Terry.
Uh, I'll have what he's having.
♪ We built this ballpark ♪
♪ We built this ballpark on a gay dude's ♪
♪ Cash... ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Say you don't know me ♪
♪ Or recognize my face ♪
♪ Say you don't care ♪
♪ Who goes ♪
♪ To that kind of place ♪
♪ Knee-deep in the hoopla ♪
♪ Sinking in your fight... ♪
Hey! We got our field back!
You get the hell out of here!
This is great, Cleveland.
Baseball is what the kids in this town need
so that they can focus and not listen to the...
to the Pink Floyd records all the time!
Do you drug-test the players?
No.
Awesome.
Oh-ho! Hey, all about the civil liberties, this one.
I know my boy's a little tiny
on account of we nursed him on root beer,
but he likes to dance around like a moron
and has a high tolerance for heat.
Well, I think we've got ourselves a mascot!
Cool! It smells like beer and throw up!
Hey, Junior, where are you headed
so, quote, "fast," unquote?
Inside. I got a big day ahead of me.
You sure do.
Come here.
Son, I'm so proud I can officially
pass on the name given to me by Coach McFall: Hot Brown.
What do you say, Hot Brown Jr.?
No, thank you -- I have no interest in baseball.
Sorry. His reaction surprised me.
Junior, at least give it a try.
I can't, Daddy-- I'm signing up
for a different afte r- school activity: Math Club.
I'm sorry. I sent away for this months ago.
Principal Farquhar says I have
the second highest trigonometry scores in the whole...
Eh-eh-eh-eh, back up.
Math Club?
Who cares about math?
I do!
Right this way, Cleveland Jr.
Math Club sign-ups right this way.
Attaboy.
Oh, great!
What else bad could happen?
Oh .
Hey, here's to Cleveland for bringing baseball to town,
so that all our sons, except his, can enjoy it.
Oh, what would Coach McFall say if he knew my boy chose
the Math Club over the baseball team?
McFall? Isn't that the name of, uh, the old alkie
who mops up the floor for free drinks?
All right, gentlemen,
before you get on that field,
I want you to remember two things:
one, you're all great baseball players;
two, overweight divorcees are an easy lay.
Think about it.
So what do you say we go win this thing?
Let's go, let's go!
Let's go do it! Let's go, brothers! All right!
"Sad sex" on three.
One, two, three.
Sad sex!
Let's go! Here we go! Yeah!
Coach McFall, it's you!
So, I see you're still a fan
of the chewing tobacco.
Hot Brown!
What are you doing back in town,
you bigheaded S.O.B.?
Believe it or not, I'm the Growlers' new head coach.
Unfortunately, my son would rather join the Math Club.
And you're just going to sit there,
blubbering into your beer?
Well, not now.
What kind of coach are you?
No one's born loving baseball, Hot Brown.
How could they be?
It's dull as dirt.
You've got to give your son
something from your past to inspire him.
Like when my dad let me nail his third wife.
He cheered me on from the closet.
Her name was Maureen.
Looked like a really hot Dick Nixon.
Make baseball your hot Dick Nixon, Cleveland.
I know the perfect thing to give Junior.
Coach, I don't know how to thank you.
I need a place to live and some money.
Oh, we all do, Coach.
We all do.
Hey, Daddy.
I was just playing truth or dare,
and I was dared to climb the bookshelf like a fireman.
Who dared you?
Larry the Leopard.
14... you're 14!
Now, get down here.
I got something I want you to have.
Wow!
Number Nine?
I thought when you left, they retired it for good.
I'm Brett Favre-ing it.
Except I'm not being a public ja g-off about it.
I want you to join the team and wear my jersey
and keep the Brown family legacy alive.
Wow!
Larry the Leopard, call for backup, pronto!
And Collegiate leading by one,
thanks to a great outing by pitcher Myles Duggan.
Duggan's a junior, but only because
he was held back this year for what he claims is
a "learning disability" calle d- get this-- "dyslexia."
Gesundheit.
♪ ♪
Look, a black baseball player that doesn't speak Spanish.
Rallo, what are you talking about?
That's rare.
Come on, Junior.
That's Cleveland Brown Jr.,
wearing the original jersey his father made famous.
After 25 years, Hot Brown Number Nine is back at the plate.
Here's the pitch and...
ball one.
Little outside.
Good eye.
Ball two.
This type of excitement is what makes the game great.
Anything can happen.
The next pitch could be a strike, a hit, an out,
ball three, or even a foul.
Here we go.
Ball three.
Wow, I wonder
what will happen next.
Hard to say.
Here we go.
The pitch and... ball four.
He walks. Slowly.
A respectable if underwhelming return to the field
for the legendary Number Nine.
All right.
And here's deaf powerhouse,
Oliver "I Can't Hear You" Wilkerson.
Come on.
Show me what you got.
It's showtime.
De plane, de plane!
That ball is flying!
Oh, hello, Mrs. Ladybug.
Run, Junior!
Run!
Move your fat ass!
Double play!
What was Brown thinking?!
Junior stinks!
Good space work, son.
Looks like Number Nine is a Hot Brown mess.
Brown Number Nine makes you hate the game itself.
The Growlers should retire that jersey again.
Retire it to the can.
Gordy, we've talked about this.
You can't say that on the air.
So what?
They'll just bleep it.
Brown Number Nine sucks .
Hey, did I tell you about the service call I got this morning?
Some Russian dude tried to hook up his cable box to his oven.
Man, what a Number Nine.
Uh, I mean dumb-ass.
Oh, I get it.
A Number Nine. Ha-ha.
Did you come up with that yourself?
Uh, no, I heard it somewhere.
Where? Everywhere.
From who? Everybody.
When? All the time.
How? Derogatorily.
That's it!
My legacy has been besmirched.
And it's time I un-besmirch it.
Terry, I'm going to do something
I should've done a long time ago.
CLEVELAND : Oh.
Oh, God.
Aw, this is a gross bathroom.
Oh, there's pee on the seat.
I don't care, I'll squat.
Oh, my legs are too tired.
I'll just sit in it.
I got hand sanitizer inside the truck;
I'll just wipe my butt cheeks off with it.
Ah.
They should've called this the "ambm."
Oh, man, I got to get out there
and deal with my kid and my legacy.
Oh, for Pete's sake, somebody wrote "Brown Number Nine"
on the wall in number two!
Oh, this place is gross.
What the hell?
I am never eating hot dogs from this place anymore.
Actually, I wouldn't mind having a hot dog.
Oh, they're out of paper.
I better call Terry to bring me some.
No signal?
This phone sucks!
What am I supposed to wipe with?
Oh, please tell me I wore old socks.
Yes!
Now we're gonna do something else
I should have done a long time ago.
Oh, no.
Where's my dad's jersey?
Someone stole my dad's jersey!
Not just someone.
This security footage should answer all your questions,
unless your questions are of a sexual nature,
in which case you should talk to your parents or a priest.
Hey, what are you watching, The Cleveland Show?
Uh-oh.
Cleveland Jr., may I enter?
Yes.
Son, I can't believe I would do something so stupid
as to steal this jersey back from you.
Here, it's yours.
Fine.
You forgive me for stealing the jersey?
Yeah.
Good. 'Cause you were awful.
You know that, right?
I mean, you're my boy,
: but yo u-a no very good at the baseball.
No, sirree.
No, no, no.
Awful.
Bad boy.
Bad baseball player.
Stinky pie.
Sucka-wacka.
No bueno.
: But as for me stealing the jersey,
that's water under the bridge.
Okay.
All right, then.
You're a bad baseball player.
Bye. Bye-bye, Junior.
Bye, Miss Donna.
Well, that was pretty cold.
Cleveland, you broke into the school, exploded his locker,
and stole back your jersey because you were ashamed of him.
And I apologized.
But what about my disappointment?
Even Tim's son Raymond went two for three,
and he was blazed out of his mind.
When are you going to realize that this isn't about you?
This is about your son and appreciating what he's good at.
Well, listen to Dr. Phyl-icia Rashad.
I told you never to mention that name in this house.
I'm gonna kill you, Phylicia Rashad.
I'm gonna kill you.
Hey, Mr. Farquhar.
I watched the tape you gave me.
As far as I'm concerned, you may as well use this
to erase that erroneous derivative.
The upper limit should be N cubed, not N squared.
No, because the--
He's right!
Hooray! Yippee!
Nerds!
Stand up!
You stand up!
I am standing up.
I know!
In your face, dwarf-ass!
That's hurtful!
Coach, I did something you always told me not to do.
I took my eye off the ball--
the ball being my relationship with my son.
And now, as a consequence,
there's been a rain delay in said relationship.
We've all got problems, Hot Brown.
Last night, I slept in a gas station bathroom.
It was filthy.
My feet were freezing.
Thank God someone left a pair of socks in there.
Hey, you think our livers would be a match?
This is an odd place
for the Math Club to meet.
Pop quiz, Junior.
How do you turn a nine into a zero?
Junior!
What are you doing here with Wally?
And what is he doing with my jersey?
Showing Cleveland Jr. a real Hot Number Nine.
That's my jersey.
My dad gave it to me.
But then you gave it to me.
No...!
Here, Daddy.
I'm sorry.
You've got nothing to apologize for.
You didn't disgrace this jersey, son.
I did.
I'm proud to be your father.
I love you, Dad.
Pride is what men feel.
Love is for the ladies.
Fine, go on!
Go back to your dad, you chubby loser!
Nobody calls my fat son
a chubby loser.
Oh, no! No!
Oh, not again!
Wee-wee!
I didn't enjoy watching
Wally humiliate himself that night.
Actually, I did.
I enjoyed it immensely.
And as for Wally, well, he relearned
the same lesson he learned 25 years ago:
mess with me, and you're gonna
pee on your thigh and pocket contents.
My name is Cleveland Brown.
Sync by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com