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Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the triplets now middle school aged. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rebuffs an advance by Daryl in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the park with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' people with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Timmy making out with Q Ruttheimer while three girls are practically throwing themselves at Tommy. Final shot is Quinn, Jim and the triplets standing on the front lawn and then being joined by the rest of the regular cast. They all smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Run, Timmy, Run"
written by
WildDogJJ

Glenfield Middle School, day...

A bunch of eleven- and twelve-year old boys are taking turns demonstrating their football skills on the field while the head coach, a dark-haired man in his mid-thirties, watches and takes notes. Among the boys are Tommy Carbone and Kevin Thompson Jr. The coach sees Tommy throw a pass and is visibly impressed. At the same time, he's equally impressed by Kevin Jr.'s ability to run with the ball and dodge obstacles. Finally, the coach blows his whistle, and the boys all stop.

"AWRIGHT, LINE UP," the coach barked with a heavy New York accent, "Youse kids all did great."

"Thanks, Coach Nicoletti," said Tommy.

Coach Nicoletti proceeded to announce who made the team and who didn't.

"Tommy Carbone, quarterback!"

Tommy did a fist pump.

"YES!"

Nicoletti called the next name.

"Kevin Thompson Junior, running back!"

Kevin Jr. did a fist pump.

"AWRIGHT!"

Meanwhile, inside the gym...

The cheerleading coach, a raven-haired woman in her thirties named Wilson, was watching one of the girls do a cheer. That girl was Q Ruttheimer, Chuck and Stacy's daughter. She chanted while doing a jump and split with pom-poms.

"WE'VE GOT SPIRIT, YES WE DO! WE'VE GOT SPIRIT, HOW ABOUT YOU? GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GLENFIELD!!!"

Coach Wilson nodded approvingly.

"That was very good, Q!"

Q smiled.

"Thanks!"

"Welcome to the cheerleading squad!"

Q could barely contain her excitement.

"Thanks!"

Coach Wilson looked at her clipboard.

"Okay, that just leaves one position to fill...mascot."

Timmy Carbone put on the headpiece of a wolf costume and took his place on the mat. Then, the music started to play.

Music: "I Like It" by Enrique Iglesias

BABY, I LIKE IT
The way you move on the floor
OH, YES, I LIKE IT
Now, come on, gimmie some more

Timmy did a silly dance and continued to raise his arms at an imaginary crowd as if encouraging them to make some noise. Coach Wilson was visibly impressed. Timmy finished his dance with a power slide on his knees while continuing to raise his arms in the 'make some noise' gesture. Once the music stopped, Coach Wilson and the cheerleaders all applauded excitedly.

"Everyone," said Wilson, "Meet the new Glenfield  Wolf...Timmy Carbone!"

Timmy did a fist pump.

"YES!"

Thompson house, afternoon...

Jim Carbone, Kevin Thompson, Jamie White and Chuck Ruttheimer were all sitting on the porch and drinking beer while talking.

"Well, how about that," Jim beamed proudly, "One of my sons is the quarterback and the other's the mascot!"

Jamie sighed. "Wish I had a son," he lamented, "Not that I don't love Rachel, but it'd be nice if I had a son playing football."

"I have a daughter," Chuck bragged in reference to Q, "A daughter who just made the cheerleading squad!"

Added Kevin, "And I'm not even upset that Junior isn't the QB! Running back's just as important, and almost as cool as being QB! That's definitely MY boy!"

Ironically, that's when Daryl (Kevin Jr.'s real father) pulled up in his Corvette convertible.

"Hey, Kevin," said Daryl, "I'm going to the Morgendorffers to work with Helen on my reparations lawsuit, wanna come with?"

"Cool," said Kevin, "I'm, like, so there, bro!" He then turned to the rest of the guys. "Later!"

Kevin then got into the passenger seat of Daryl's car. After they sped off, the other guys commented on the situation.

"Guys," said Chuck, "I don't know what's weirder: Brittany no longer having an affair, or Kevin being friends with her former lover."

Jim immediately changed the subject.

"Jamie, about Rachel," he said, "Don't let it bum ya. I'm in the same boat with my third son. Teddy only likes to read and write. Those aren't sports."

Jamie visibly felt better.

"I guess I could do worse than a daughter whose only interests are music and art."

Added Chuck, "At least my daughter's a cheerleader. My son's an even bigger slacker than I was as a teenager."

"At least he's not the total perv you were as a teenager," Jamie teased, "Upchuck."

The guys all laughed.

Lawndale Mall, day...

Quinn, Sandi, Stacy and Nicole were at Cashman's shopping for back-to-school clothes for their kids. Sandi took a polo shirt off one of the racks. She went over it before nodding her approval.

"This is perfect for Shane," said Sandi, "It displays his status without, like, drawing attention to it." She sighed before continuing. "I just wish Tom would let me send our son to Fielding. Public school is soooo unbecoming."

Quinn said, "Come on, Sandi! We all went to public school and turned out fine."

Asked Nicole, "Why does Tom insist on having Shane in public school anyway?"

"Because," said Sandi, "He thinks it's good for Shane to associate with our social inferiors."

Stacy took offense.

"Excuse me!"

Sandi backpedaled.

"Sorry, I meant to say less fortunate."

The other women accepted this and changed the subject.

"Wow," said Stacy, "I can't believe my daughter's a cheerleader!"

Added Quinn, "One of my son's is the quarterback and another's the mascot. Now, if only I could get Teddy interested in something."

Nicole chimed in.

"If it's any consolation, Rachel's not doing anything extracurricular either."

"Tommy's the new quarterback," said Stacy, "Jim must be proud!"

"He is," said Quinn, "He was a little put off when Timmy decided to try out for cheerleading, but relieved when he found out it was to be the school mascot."

"Not every boy has to be a football player," said Stacy, "I'm just happy that my son's not the total creeper his father was at his age."

It was at this point that a now fifteen-year-old Chucky Ruttheimer walked by. He was now as tall as his mother.

"You're afraid I'm gonna be like Dad," said Chucky in his usual snarky monotone before continuing on his way.

Sandi said, "At least your son's not the next Upchuck." After a brief pause, she added, "But MY son's on the football team."

Quinn proceeded to nip Sandi's latest bitch relapse in the bud.

"Before you start rubbing our nose in the fact that Shane's the kicker, may I remind you that Tommy's the quarterback."

Sandi starred daggers at Quinn. Nicole and Stacy exchanged worried glances as they knew what this meant.

Getting in Quinn's face, Sandi said, "Timmy's the mascot! You know what happens to mascots at Glenfield Middle School."

"Yeah," said Quinn, "They entertain the crowd during games."

"Oh, that's right," said Sandi in a passive-aggressive tone, "You didn't come to Lawndale until high school. You DON'T know about Glenfield's most absurd tradition."

Quinn was now curious.

"What tradition?"

Sandi smirked as she proceeded to explain.

"A hazing ritual. At the first home game of the season, during the halftime show its tradition for the mascot to take a light beating from the football team on the field. If the mascot refuses to take the beating, he will be mocked as a coward until he graduates. I just hope Timmy takes his beating. It would be such a shame to have another son who's..." Sandi's eyes narrowed menacingly. "...unpopular."

Quinn gasped in horror.

Casa Carbone, evening...
Music: "Popular" by Nada Surf

I'm the quarterback
I'm popular
I'm the head of the class
I'm popular
I'm a football star
I play guitar

Quinn, Jim and the boys were seated around the kitchen table having dinner and making conversation. As expected, Tommy won't shut up about being the new quarterback.

"Man, school hasn't even started yet and I'm already the most popular guy there," Tommy gushed, "I'm sooo gonna wow them at the first game."

"You know," said Teddy, "It's fascinating how schools value athletic prowess over actual education."

"Duh," said Tommy, "That's because sports are cool."

"I'll remember you said that," said Teddy, "When I'm a best-selling author and you're still living with Mom and Dad because you peaked in your teens." After a brief pause, he proceeded to twist the knife. "Of course, you could always do what Mr. Thompson did: marry the girl you knocked up at prom and spend your adult life mooching off of her while she sleeps with another man on the side."

"That's enough, Teddy," Jim said in a stern tone.

"Besides," added Quinn, "Kevin and Brittany didn't conceive Ultra on prom night...It was a Fourth of July cookout."

At this point, Quinn turned her attention to Timmy.

"Timmy, are you sure you wanna be the Glenfield Wolf?"

"Yeah, Mom," Timmy answered, "Why?"

Quinn didn't want to frighten Timmy, so she tip-toed around the subject.

"It's just...well...It's a lot of pressure...being popular. I mean, it's not like elementary school, where you just have to be nice and outgoing. Being popular in middle school requires you to do things...things you might not wanna do...sometimes...and...uh..."

Timmy rolled his eyes.

"Mom, I'm not gonna do drugs or join a gang...ever! That's for losers."

"That's not what I meant," said Quinn.

Added Jim, "And I'll kick your ass if you ever do those things, Timmy....and that goes for all three of you!"

Quinn turned her attention to her husband.

"Jim, what did I say about using empty threats of violence to motivate the boys?"

Jim was visibly embarrassed that some of his inner Tony slipped out.

"Sorry."

Quinn turned her attention back to Timmy.

"Mrs. Sloane told me that it's part of Glenfield's tradition to..."

Tommy immediately interrupted.

"MOM," he said, "It's also part of the tradition that the mascot doesn't know it's coming!"

"Doesn't know what's coming," asked Timmy.

Tommy smirked.

"Oh, you'll find out!"

Timmy was visibly nervous while Quinn was visibly conflicted.

Glenfield Middle School, a week later...

It's the first week of the new school year. Timmy and Q were walking the halls. Q was in her cheerleader uniform as it was game day.

"I can't believe our first game is a home game," Q beamed, "It's gonna be so cool."

At this point, a blond girl who was a grade ahead of Timmy and Q and also a cheerleader, approached the couple. She was Leslie Bennet, the head cheerleader.

"Hey, Q, Timmy!"

"Hey, Leslie," said Q.

Added Timmy, "Looking forward to tonight's game, Les."

"Yeah," said Leslie, "And Timmy, I'm sorry about what's gonna happen at halftime."

"What's gonna happen," asked Timmy.

"Yeah, Les," added Q, "What's going on?"

Leslie sighed.

"I can't say."

"Why not," asked Timmy.

Leslie turned to Q.

"Q, I need to talk to you alone for a sec."

Girl's restroom, a short time later...

Leslie has just told Q about the school's hazing tradition for new mascots. Q was not pleased to hear that she's gonna have to watch the opposing football team beat up on her boyfriend during halftime.

"WHAT!?!"

Leslie repeated herself.

"It's tradition to open the season by having the Glenfield Wolf take a light beating from the other team as part of the halftime show."

"That's sick and cruel," Q protested.

"Q," said Leslie, "It's not like they're gonna put Timmy in the hospital or anything like that. They're just gonna tackle him and smack him around a little. It'll hurt, but it's not gonna break any bones or make him bleed or anything like that."

"I'm supposed to watch a bunch of football players beat up my boyfriend," said Q, "How can you expect me to be okay with this?"

"Well, you kinda have to be," said Leslie, "You're a cheerleader." She remembered something else. "Also, don't tell him. He's not supposed to know it's coming."

Q was visibly conflicted, torn between her obligation to uphold school tradition and her desire to protect her boyfriend.

hallway, a short time later...

A visibly upset Q was walking with Timmy.

"Q," asked Timmy, "What was that with you and Leslie just now?"

"I...I can't tell you," said Q in a guilty voice.

"Sure, you can," said Timmy, "I'm your boyfriend, you can tell me anything."

Q sighed.

"Timmy, swear you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you!"

"Why," asked a suspicious Timmy.

"Because you're not supposed to know," said Q, "I'm only telling you because I'm your girlfriend and I don't wanna see you get hurt."

"Okay," said Timmy, "I swear I won't tell anyone that you told me, Q. Now, what's going on?"

Q sighed before telling Timmy what's going to happen to him during halftime.

That evening...

The bleachers are packed with parents watching their kids play. Quinn, Jim and Teddy were there to support Tommy and Timmy. To their left, Kevin and Brittany were there to support Kevin Jr. To the Carbone's right, Tom and Sandi were there to support Shane while Chuck and Stacy were there to support Q.

In front of the bleachers, the cheerleaders were making a cheer while Timmy, in his wolf costume, was raising his arms to encourage the crowd to make some noise.

"GLENFIELD, GLENFIELD, KEEP UP THE ATTACK! SHOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MESS WITH OUR PACK! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WOLVES!"

The two teams lined up on the field as an announcer provided commentary.

"Well, it's third and long! Can quarterback Tommy Carbone make it happen?"

The ball snapped. As the linemen held back the opposing team Tommy scanned the field for a receiver. He found one that had made his way past the opposition and was open.

"And Carbone throws a huge pass!"

The ball sailed through the air before landing in the wide receiver's hands. The receiver was immediately tackled down, but he was on the nine-yard line.

"CAUGHT!!! TOMMY CARBONE HAS JUST TAKEN GLENFIELD TO FIRST AND GOAL!!!"

Everyone in the bleachers cheered.

"THAT'S MY SON," Jim bragged.

The two teams lined up for another play. After the snap, Tommy took the ball to Kevin Jr.

"And Carbone hands it off to Thompson!"

Kevin Jr. expertly evades the other team's defenders and runs the ball into the endzone.

"TOUCHDOWN, GLENFIELD!!!"

Kevin leapt out of his seat.

"AWRIGHT!!!! THAT'S MY BOY!!!"

He then pointed to his own groin.

"THAT'S RIGHT," Kevin bragged, "I MADE HIM!!!"

Watching from a discreet distance, Daryl (Kevin Jr.'s real father) rolled his eyes.

The kicking team was now on the field to go for the extra point.

"There's the snap! IT'S GOOD! KICKER SHANE SLOANE HAS MADE THE EXTRA POINT!"

Sandi proceeded to rub Quinn's nose in it.

"Can YOUR son kick that good, Kuh-winn!"

Quinn rolled her eyes.

Bitch!

Then, a buzzer went off.

"Well," said the announcer, "It's halftime! The score is Glenfield, 14, Balboa,7!"

In the bleachers, Quinn was visibly nervous while Sandi smirked.

On the field, the entire cheerleading squad, including the mascot, was dancing to the latest pop hit. Suddenly, Balboa's offensive line came running back onto the field.

"OH, NO!!! HERE THEY COME TO PUNISH THE GLENFIELD WOLF!!!"

The cheerleaders all made a run for it, leaving Timmy to face the wrath of Balboa Middle School.

"Screw this," said Timmy as he turned and ran.

"This is different," said the announcer, "The Glenfield Wolf's supposed to stay and take the beating! Who tipped him off!"

Timmy ran off the football field, behind the bleachers and into the girl's restroom.

"OH MY GOD," said the announcer, "THE GLENFIELD WOLF'S ACTUALLY HIDING!!! MAN, I FEEL SORRY FOR THAT KID'S PARENTS!!!!"

Both Quinn and Jim sank in their seats as the other parents booed and threw things at them.

Act II
A street in Lawndale, evening...

Quinn's Cadillac was going home. Inside, Quinn was driving while Jim rode shotgun. The triplets were in the back. Timmy was visibly nervous while Tommy, Jim and Quinn were all visibly upset. Teddy was his usual disinterested self.

"I'm ruined...RUINED," said Tommy, "Now, everyone's gonna hate me because my brother's a wuss!"

Jim was equally vocal in his disappointment.

"Dammit, Timmy," said Jim, "Why'd you have to run away?"

"I didn't wanna get beat up by the other team," Timmy explained for the hundredth time.

"It's a school tradition," Quinn barked, "You were supposed to take that beating! I mean, it's no worse than what the players do to each other during the game!"

"But," Timmy protested, "I'm the mascot, not one of the players! I can't handle a bunch of muscleheads piling up on me!"

"So," said Teddy, "We're just ignoring the fact that the school endorses a form of child abuse?"

Everyone else: "SHUT UP, TEDDY!"

Teddy rolled his eyes and sighed.

Thompson house, the next day...

Kevin, Jim, Jamie and Chuck were sitting on Kevin's porch drinking beer. The guys were all giving Jim hell for having a son who's a coward.

"Dammit, Jim," Kevin barked, "Your kid cost us the game!"

Jim sighed.

"I'm sorry, alright! I'm sorry one of my kids is a total wimp, now drop it!"

"Drop it," said Jamie, "Your son refused to do his duty as school mascot, threw everyone's focus off and cost us the game, and you expect us to just drop it!? Loser!"

Chuck piled on. "Q was crying all night, especially after all those mean texts! The other kids are calling her a slut and a whore because she's Timmy's girlfriend! How the hell could you do that to me!?"

"HEY," Jim barked, "It's not my fault middle schoolers are insensitive assholes!"

"No," Jamie replied, "but it's your fault Timmy's a wuss!"

"Jim," said Kevin, "Like, get off of my property!"

Jim was stunned.

"YOU'RE KICKING ME OUT!"

"Dammit, Jim," said Jamie, "YOU CAN'T BE FRIENDS WITH US ANYMORE!!"

Jim stood up.

"FINE! I'LL HANG OUT AT ROWE AUTOMOTIVE FOR A BIT!"

"No," said Chuck, "You won't! Stacy told me Adam's banned you for life from the place! He hates you even more than we do!"

"FINE!!!"

Jim angrily picked up the cooler.

"HEY," shouted Kevin, "JIM, WHAT THE HELL!?!"

"If I can't hang with you guys," Jim hissed, "then you can't drink my beer!"

With that, Jim angrily walked away.

Pizza Prince, the next day...

Quinn and Nicole are seated across from each other in a booth.

"Thanks for having lunch with me, Nicole," said Quinn.

Nicole let out a forlorn sigh.

"You're welcome, Quinn."

Quinn ignored her friend's visibly distress.

"It's a shame Stacy had to cover a breaking news story and Sandi had a function at Winged Tree."

Nicole now had a guilty expression on her face, which Quinn noticed.

"Nicole," said Quinn, "That's why they canceled on us last minute, right?"

"Actually," said Nicole, "I made that up to spare you some hurt feelings. The real reason they aren't here is because after what Timmy did at the game they can't be seen in public with you anymore."

Quinn was mortified. Her two oldest friends were shutting her out because Timmy ran away rather than take that light beating at halftime.

"Well," said Quinn in a pained voice, "At least I still have your friendship." Something suddenly occurred to Quinn. "I still do, right?" She visibly feared the answer.

"Of course you do," said Nicole, "I know what it's like to lose all of your status over a single incident."

It was then that their waiter, a high school boy with spiked hair, brought out their slices.

"Here you go, Mrs. White," he said as he laid Nicole's pizza in front of her.

"Thanks," said Nicole.

The waiter then served Quinn.

"Here, loser," he said in a confrontational tone.

Quinn was taken aback.

"Excuse me!"

The waiter repeated himself in an even more snippy tone.

"You heard me, loser!"

Quinn was not going to back down.

"Hey, jerk, it's not my fault Timmy ran away and cost us the game!"

"Whatever," said the waiter as he took Quinn's soda, "Here, on me!" He then splashed the drink in Quinn's face.

Quinn gasped in shock before becoming angry.

"How...dare...you!!! I wanna speak with your manager...NOW!"

The waiter left. A minute later, the manager, a portly man in his thirties, arrived.

"Oh," said the manager in a disgusted tone, "It's you!"

The manager then took Quinn's pizza and smashed it right in her face.

"Don't show you face in my establishment again...loser!"

As the manager stormed off, everyone else pointed at Quinn and laughed.

Glenfield Middle School, Monday...

Timmy walked the halls. As he made his way to his locker Timmy tried his best to ignore the hostile glances he was getting from both students and teachers.

The science teacher, a middle aged woman with grayish brown hair, pointed at the boy.

"COWARD!!!"

Timmy sighed as she continued on his way. Finally, Timmy reached his locker. someone had spraypainted "PUSSY" on it in big letters. Timmy sighed as he opened his locker and got out some books. He then closed his locker to find Q standing there, and she didn't look happy.

"Hey, Q."

"Timmy," said Q, "We need to talk."

Timmy didn't notice the subtext.

"Cool! I could use some encouragement from my girlfriend right now."

Q sighed.

"Timmy, I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other anymore."

Timmy looked like he'd been stabbed in the gut.

"WHAT!? Why!?"

"Because," Q explained, "Everyone hates you for what happened at the game and everyone hates me for being your girlfriend. I...I don't wanna dump you, Timmy, but I have my own popularity to think about."

"Q," Timmy begged, "Please..."

"Timmy," Q sighed, "I can't be a total out cast, and I can't go out with a total outcast. I'm a cheerleader, for chrissake." She sighed again before continuing. "I'm sorry, Timmy, but it has to be this way."

Q then turned and walked away. Timmy was about to cry when someone smacked him from behind so hard that he dropped his books.

"OW!"

Timmy turned around to see a VERY pissed off Tommy standing there.

"Tommy, what was that for!?"

"You got me kicked off the team, asshole," Tommy barked.

Timmy was stunned.

"But...you're the best quarterback this school's ever had!"

"Not as long as you're my brother, I'm not," Tommy spat back. He then kicked Timmy's books across the floor for good measure. "Wuss!" With that, Tommy angrily stormed off.

Timmy slumped his head down and sighed. He was about to go get his books when...

"THERE HE IS!!!"

Startled, Timmy turned around to find six of the football players behind him. One of them pointed.

"THAT'S THE FAT WUSS WHO COST US THE GAME!!!!"

"GET HIM," shouted another player.

"AAHHHH!!!"

Timmy turned and ran away. The football players chased him down.

Casa Carbone, night...

Timmy sat alone in his room and sighed. He'd refused to take the beating from the other team as part of the halftime show and now the whole school hated him for it. His girlfriend had dumped him, his friends have all ditched him and his teachers were flunking him purely out of spite. It was only the second week of the year and Timmy was already the biggest outcast in school. Even the special needs kids were bullying him. Timmy was about to cry when his smartphone beeped.

Timmy's eyes went wide when he saw the name on the screen.

Why's Shane Sloane calling me!?

Timmy nervously answered.

"Wh...What's going on, Shane?"

Shane's response was quick and to the point.

"Meet me in the back yard in five minutes, Titty, and come alone."

Timmy gulped with dread.

The back yard, five minutes later...

Timmy nervously exited the house and closed the door behind him. He cautiously walked into the yard when a rustling in the hedges got his attention.

"Psst! Titty, over here!"

Recognizing Shane's voice, Timmy nervously made his way to the bush the other boy was hiding in.

"What's going on, Shane?"

"Titty," said Shane, "I'm here to warn you...we're playing Fielding Middle tomorrow."

"So," said Timmy.

"Titty," Shane explained, "my dad went to Fielding when he was a kid and told me about one of their traditions. Some kids from Fielding are planning to steal the Glenfield Wolf costume...tonight!!!"

Timmy gasped.

Glenfield Middle School, later...

Timmy and Shane were walking the halls with flashlights.

"How'd you get keys to the school," asked Timmy.

"Swiped them from the janitor's office while ditching history class," Shane answered.

"Sorry I asked," said Timmy.

"Hey," Shane hissed, "You wanna be popular again or not!?"

Timmy took a breath to calm his nerves.

"What's the plan?"

Shane explained.

"You go into the storage room and make sure the costume's still there. I'll keep lookout in the hall. If I spot anything, I'll let you know."

Timmy nodded.

"You got it, Shane."

It was at this point that they reached the storage room where the costume was kept. Shane handed the keys over.

"Okay, Titty. You go in and check on things, I'll stay here and keep an eye out."

Timmy unlocked the door.

"Shane...thanks."

"Don't mention it, Titty...ever!"

Timmy entered and closed the door behind him while Shane kept watch outside.

Once inside the storage room, Timmy approached a large green trash can on wheels. Written in big letters on the can was the words "Glenfield Wolf". Timmy flipped the lid on the can and breathed a sigh of relief. The costume was still there.

Outside, Shane heard something. He looked to see some kids in Fielding jerseys entering.

"Shit!"

Suddenly, some other kids grabbed Shane from behind and pinned him down. One of them then sealed Shane's mouth with duct tape while another pinned him down. The rest of the kids from Fielding approached.

"Nice try, Shane," said one of them, "but we're getting that costume...loser!"

Inside, Timmy heard the commotion.

"Oh, no!"

Timmy hurriedly locked the door. A second later, the kids outside were pounding on it.

"OPEN UP, LOSER!"

Timmy tried to bluff them.

"THERE ARE TEN FOOTBALL PALYERS GUARDING THE COSTUME, GO AWAY!!!"

One of the kids outside recognized his voice.

"YEAH, RIGHT, TIMMY, WE KNOW IT'S JUST YOU! OPEN UP AND WE WON'T HURT YOU...MUCH!!!"

Timmy was terrified.

"eep!"

Outside, one of the larger Fielding kids approached with a set of dumbells.

"Found this in the weight room," said the large kid, "Should bust that door wide open!"

The Fielding kids proceeded to use the dumbells as a battering ram.

Inside, Timmy looked nervously as the door hinges started to come loose.

"Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit!"

Timmy looked and noticed a window that was large enough him to squeeze through. Seized by panic, Timmy ran to the window and unlatched it.

Outside, the Fielding kids were ramming the door. Finally, the hinges gave way and the door fell down.

"Yes," said one of the Fielding kids as they entered the storage room.

"Hey," said another, "Where's the fat wuss?"

They then saw the open window.

"Figures, he ran away...again!"

"Man," said another kid, "What a pussy."

The Fielding kids then took the bin with the costume in it and wheeled it our of there, laughing the whole time.

"Man, that costume's heavy!"

None of them knew that Timmy hadn't run away, he was hiding in the bin with the costume.

Act III

Fielding Preparatory Academy, evening...

The Fielding football players who'd stolen the Glenfield Wolf costume have just placed it in the team's storage room. Once that was done, they walked out and closed the door behind them. Once they were gone, Timmy emerged from the storage bin that he'd been hiding in with the costume.

Well, Timmy thought, at least I wasn't caught. Time to get outta here.

Timmy made his way to the storage room door, intending to sneak out and make his way home. Unfortunately, that plan quickly became unworkable as Timmy turned the door handle and frowned.

Dammit! It's locked!

The boy anxiously scanned the room with his eyes in the hopes of finding another means of escape. Unfortunately, there were no windows and the only other way out was through a ceiling vent. His heart sank upon seeing that there was no way to get to the vent.

Oh, no! I'm trapped!

Timmy reached into his pocket and pulled out his I-Phone. He frantically dialed a number.

Meanwhile, at Casa Carbone...

Teddy was in his room reading a copy of Animal Farm when his I-Phone rang. He immediately answered.

"Abandon hope, all ye who call here."

"Teddy," said a frantic Timmy, "I need help!"

"I can only imagine," said Teddy, "I saw you sneaking out with Shane Sloane. What, you forget how to get back in? Just climb the vines by your bedroom window."

"No," said Timmy, "I'm trapped in the storage room at Fielding Prep!"

Teddy's normally expressionless eyes went wide.

"How the hell did that happen!?"

Timmy proceeded to explain.

"Shane told me that some players from Fielding were going to steal the Glenfield Wolf costume and wanted me to help stop them. We went to school but the guys from Fielding showed up and jumped Shane. I got scared, so I opened the window to climb out before they burst open the door. I suddenly realized that I'd be even more unpopular if I ran off again so I hid in the bin where we keep the costume."

"Timmy," said Teddy with an eye roll, "This has got to be one of the dumbest things you've ever done, and that's saying something."

"Teddy," said Timmy, "I was planning to sneak the costume out of Fielding and bring it back to our school, but they locked the door and now I'm trapped in here."

"I see," said Teddy, "Let me guess. You need me to come up with an idea for you to get out of this mess."

"Yes," said Timmy.

"What's in it for me," asked Teddy.

"Thrity bucks," said Timmy.

"Fifty."

"Forty."

"Done."

"Okay," said Timmy, "What do I do?"

Teddy said, "You stay put."

Timmy was taken aback.

"That's your plan!? I just agreed to pay forty bucks for nothing!?"

"Timmy," Teddy explained, "Fielding's riddled with security cameras and alarms that would put those in most banks to shame. There's no way you can get out without being caught. You need to stay put until tomorrow, when they come in to get the stolen costume and rub our team's noses in the fact that they stole it at the game."

Timmy was downcast.

"But those gorillas will kick my ass if they see me!"

"Sorry," said Teddy, "But there's no other way out of this. You'll just have to take the beating."

With that, Teddy hung up. No sooner had he done that when Quinn entered.

"Teddy, have you seen Timmy," said Quinn, "I can't find him anywhere and neither Tommy nor your father have seen him."

Teddy immediately covered for his brother.

"I just got off the phone with him. He's sleeping over at Shane's."

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, Teddy. I know that's not true!"

Teddy offered her his I-Phone.

"Call them if you don't believe me."

Quinn refused the phone.

"That's okay. The fact that you're offering me the phone is enough to prove that you're not lying."

With that, Quinn left. Once she was gone, Teddy smirked.

I can't believe Mom keeps falling for that.

Fielding Preparatory Academy, the next day...

Timmy was in the storage room, having not gotten any sleep that night. Suddenly, he heard voices coming from the hallway.

"Well, game's in a few hours. Time to get the costume."

Timmy frantically climbed into the storage bin to hide as the door was being unlocked. By the time it was open Timmy was once again hiding with the Glenfield Wolf costume. Fielding's coach, a very fit man in his thrities, entered. He immediately took the bin.

"Boy's weren't joking," he said as he began to wheel the bin out, "This thing is heavy."

Coach's office, a short time later...

Once alone, Timmy emerged from the bin actually wearing the costume. He made his way to the door. Timmy let out a sigh of relief when he discovered that the door was unlocked. He was about to exit when he heard something behind him.

"EEP!"

Startled, Timmy turned around to see a caged ferret on the coach's desk. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Just the Fielding Ferret."

Timmy was about to leave when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. The boy smirked as he got an idea of his own.

Football field, a few hours later...

It's game day and the Fielding Ferrets are tied with the Glenfield Wolves at 14 points apiece. Surprisingly, Tommy's back as quarterback. In the bleachers, Quinn and Jim were there to support him.

"I can't believe you actually got Coach Nicolletti to reinstate Tommy," said Jim.

"That was easy," said Quinn, "I just reminded him that Tommy's still the best quarterback Glenfield's had in a very long time. Using a seductive tone while talking to him sealed the deal."

It was at this point that Sandi approached them with a smirk on her face.

"Gee, Kuh-winn," said Sandi in a mocking tone, "Where's your cowardly son?"

"Excuse me," said a defensive Quinn, "but you should know! He spent the night at your place."

"No," said Sandi, "He didn't! Shane came home and told me he'd been jumped by some Fielding players." She grinned maliciously as she went on. "As it turns out, Timmy ran away yet again."

"What," exclaimed Jim.

"MY BABY," said a panicked Quinn.

Both parents then looked at Teddy with piercing eyes.

"Fine," Teddy sighed, "I made that up to cover for Timmy. He actually hid with the wolf costume while the kids from Fielding stole it. He called me to cover for him."

"OHMYGOD," exclaimed a worried Quinn.

Jim was more level-headed in his response.

"Relax, Quinn," he said, "Knowing Timmy, he's probably just hiding somewhere."

Meanwhile, in the girl's locker room...

Timmy emerged from the bin wearing the Glenfield Wolf costume. He then made his way to the cage where the Fielding Ferret was being kept. Timmy knew it was almost halftime, at which point both the costume and the live ferret would be brought out as part of the show. Timmy's plan was to steal the ferret. He opened the cage.

"Okay, Mr. Ferret, just come along quietly and no one gets hurt."

Football field, a short time later...

Glenfield and Fielding were lined up on the five-yard line. An announcer provided commentary.

"Well, it's now third and goal. Can the Ferret's hold off the wolves?"

The ball snapped. Tommy looked for a receiver but couldn't find on. He made a snap decision.

"Glenfield quarterback Tommy Carbone's gonna run it in himself!"

Tommy expertly maneuvered around the Fielding players and carried the ball across the goal line.

"TOUCHDOWN, GLENFIELD!"

Everyone stood up in the visitor stands and cheered.

"THAT'S MY BOY," Jim shouted proudly.

Sandi decided to take him down a peg.

"Gee, Jim, it almost makes up for your other son being a total wuss...almost."

Quinn stared daggers at Sandi for that one.

On the field, special teams were setting up for the extra point. The ball snapped and Shane kicked it right between the posts.

"And it's good," said the announcer.

"That's MY boy," Sandi said to Quinn and Jim in a condescending tone.

It was at this point that a buzzer went off.

"Well," said the announcer, "That's halftime. The score is Glenfield, 21, Fielding, 14."

Girl's locker room, a short time later...

One of the cheerleaders entered, having been sent to retrieve both the Glenfield Wolf costume and the Fielding Ferret for the halftime show. She gasped upon seeing that both the costume and the ferret were gone.

Football field, a few seconds later...

The cheerleader frantically ran up towards the cheerleading coach, a middle-aged woman with a stately bearing.

"COACH VAN PELT," said the frantic cheerleader, "SOMEONE STOLE THE WOLF COSTUME AND OUR FERRET!"

Van Pelt's eyes went wide.

"WHAT!?"

Behind the bleachers...

Timmy was hiding with the ferret in his arms. He was trying to decide what to do next when...

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, YOU LITTLE THIEF!!"

Timmy frantically turned around to find the entire cheerleading squad right behind him. Coach Van Pelt held out her arms.

"Hand over the ferret AND the costume and no one gets hurt!"

Timmy nervously looked around. The only way out was right through the Fielding bleachers.

"That's right, fat boy," said the head cheerleader, "They will SO kick your ass!"

Added Van Pelt, "Give up, or take a severe beating. What's it gonna be, peasant?"

Timmy made his decision.

Out on the field...

Everyone gasped in shock when they saw Timmy emerge from the Fielding bleachers in his wolf costume.

"HEY, EVERYONE," Timmy shouted as he held up the ferret, "LOOK WHAT I'VE GOT!"

"Oh...my...GOD," Quinn gasped.

"TIMMY STOLE THE FIELDING FERRET," shouted Sandi in disbelief.

Timmy ran out onto the field with the ferret, making sure everyone could see what he'd just pulled off. On the sidelines the Fielding players were outraged.

"GET HIM," shouted the Fielding quarterback as the entire team proceeded to chase Timmy down.

Timmy ran to the visitor sidelines approached the cheerleaders. He handed the ferret over to Q.

"Hold this for me, will ya."

As Q nervously took the ferret, Timmy ran towards the Fielding players and proudly took the beating they threw him.

In the stands, Quinn and Jim smiled proudly.

"How about that," said Jim, "Timmy just started a new tradition!"

Sandi and Stacy approached.

"Quinn," said Stacy, "That was pretty cool, what Timmy did."

"Indeed," Sandi agreed.

After the beating, a bruised and bloody Timmy walked up to the cheerleaders.

"Timmy," said an impressed Q, "that was amazing! That was the bravest thing I'd ever seen!"

"Thanks," said Timmy, "I know I've looked better, but..."

Q silenced Timmy with a kiss. After the kiss broke...

"Of course we can get back together! I didn't even wanna break up with you in the first place!"

"You're forgiven," said Timmy with a smile.

At this point, Q handed the ferret back to Timmy as the Glenfield football players grabbed Timmy and raised him up on their shoulders.

"TIMMY! TIMMY! TIMMY! TIMMY!"

A photographer from Glenfield's school paper snapped a picture.

Glenfield Middle School, a few days later...

The picture was on the front page of the school paper. Timmy walked down the hall with Q on his arm. Everyone had a copy of the paper. As Timmy and Q walked, they listened to the other kid's praise.

"Way to go, Timmy!"

"Timmy, that stunt was so badass!"

A girl walked up to them.

"Timmy, will you go out with me?"

Q got right in her face.

"Stay away from my man, you skank!"

Timmy smiled. At this point, the couple approached a display case. In there was a copy of the front page.

"GLENFIELD WOLF STEALS FIELDING FERRET AND REDEEMS HIMSELF!"

"Timmy," said an impressed Q, "You're a legend now!"

"Thanks, bae," said Timmy. He and Q kissed before moving on.

End Chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the triplets now middle school aged. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rebuffs an advance by Daryl in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the park with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' people with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Timmy making out with Q Ruttheimer while three girls are practically throwing themselves at Tommy. Final shot is Quinn, Jim and the triplets standing on the front lawn and then being joined by the rest of the regular cast. They all smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Jim's Wet Nightmare"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I
Casa Carbone, day...

Jim was in the garage working on a 1957 Chevy Bel Air while tripod mounted cameras recorded the process.

Why am I fixing the same kind of car lately? I mean, the viewers like it, but I'm getting sick of working on '57 Chevys.

It was at this point that Jim's neighbor, Brittany Thompson, entered.

"Um, Jim."

Jim sighed as he put down his tools and acknowledged Kevin's wife.

"What's going on, Brittany," said Jim, slightly annoyed by the interruption.

"Well," said Brittany, "I just had a jacuzzi installed in our back yard and I want it working tomorrow when Kevie gets back from visiting his cousin in Massachusetts."

"Brittany," said Jim, "What's this have to do with me?"

"The heater doesn't work," said Brittany, "Can you come over and take a look at it?"

Jim pointed to the cameras.

"Brittany, I'm in the middle of making a video."

"I know," said Brittany, "and I'm sorry to interrupt your job, but I really need help. It's mine and Kevie's twenty-third wedding anniversary and I need it to be perfect! The Jacuzzi's an anniversary present."

"Let me get this straight," said Jim, "You're getting a hot tub for your anniversary!? Why?"

"This anniversary's special," Brittany explained, "It's the first one since I stopped cheating on Kevie."

Jim sighed as he proceeded to shut off the cameras.

"Fine, I'll take a look."

Thompson house, an hour later...

Jim has just finished working on the new hot tub. Brittany, wearing a bathrobe, was standing nearby.

"Well," said Jim, "the problem is that the guys who installed this thing forgot to hook up the heating pump. It should be working now."

"Thanks, Jim," said Brittany.

"Anyway," said Jim, "Let's test it."

He then turned on the hot tub. Once it got going, he stuck his hand in the water.

"Yep," said Jim with a proud smile, "Works perfectly."

Brittany then untied her bathrobe, revealing that she was wearing a very skimpy blue string bikini underneath. Jim couldn't help staring at her almost naked body.

Damn, she does not look like a forty-two-year-old who had five kids!

Entranced, Jim watched as Brittany entered the hot tub. He caught sight of her bikini bottom, and his jaw dropped. Brittany was wearing a thong bikini. Jim immediately averted his eyes.

Get your brain out of the gutter, Jim! You're married, she's married to one of your closest friends and she's not really your type anyway!

Brittany sat in the tub and let out a sensual sigh.

"God, that feels so good!"

Brittany then looked at Jim.

"Wanna join me for a soak?"

Jim was now nervous.

"Um...I gotta go!"

He left without another word.

Casa Carbone, that night...

It was late and everyone was asleep. Quinn and Jim both slept soundly in bed as Jim had a dream.

Jim's dream...

Jim was in the Thompson's back yard working on the new hot tub. The weird part of this dream was the fact that Jim's naked.

There, done!

Jim looked up and faced an also naked Brittany.

"Well, I really enjoyed fixing your tub."

Brittany grinned seductively at Jim.

"Thanks...sexy!"

Jim smiled.

"Wanna give it a try?"

The tub turned on by itself. Both Brittany and Jim entered.

"Jim," said Brittany, "how can I repay you?"

Jim shrugged.

"It was nothing."

Brittany stood up, giving Jim a full-frontal view of her naked body.

"Come on, Jim! You know you want me, and I want you!"

Jim was visibly tempted.

"Brittany, you know I'm ma..."

Brittany silenced Jim with a hot, passionate kiss.

Reality...

Jim suddenly woke up with a start. His eyes nervously scanned the room for a second. Finally, he calmed down.

Just a dream! Thank God!

The next morning...

The whole family was seated at the table having breakfast. Timmy looked at his watch.

"We gotta go. We're gonna be late for school."

"Okay, Dad," said Tommy in a mocking tone.

"BOYS," Quinn barked, "Don't start!"

Tommy, Timmy and Teddy then all got up and left. Once they were out of the house, Jim turned to Quinn.

"Now that the boys are on their way to school," said a smirking Jim, "I have something to tell you. Remember that I fixed the Thompson's jaccuzi yesterday?"

Quinn nodded. "Yeah."

"I had the strangest dream about that last night," said Jim, "I dreamt that I was back there fixing it again. Britt..." Jim stopped himself for fear of how his wife would react to the full details. He then decided to fudge a few things. "You were there."

"What's weird about that," asked Quinn.

"We were both naked."

Quinn stifled a naughty giggle.

Jim explained further.

"Once I fixed the hot tub, we both got in and got busy."

Quinn giggled again.

"You dreamt that we had sex in our neighbor's jacuzzi! That's so naughty!"

"I know," said Jim, "I mention it because it kinda took me back. Remember what we used to do in our jacuzzi?"

Quinn smiled fondly. "We used to go in there completely naked, drink some wine and then get busy."

"I wonder why we stopped doing that," said Jim.

"Two reasons," said Quinn, "One, we became parents and didn't want the boys to see us doing it. Two, the last time we got it on in our jacuzzi Chuck secretly filmed us and put it on the internet. That last one was so awkward I don't think I'll ever be comfortable skinny dipping in the pool or having sex in the hot tub ever again."

"I understand," said a slightly disappointed Jim as he was telling Quinn this in the hopes that it would put her in the mood for something they hadn't done in over two years now. "But I still miss all the other times we got busy outside, or any place other than our bedroom." He then got another idea. "Wanna take a shower?"

Quinn shot down that suggestion.

"Jim, we're both already showered and dressed." She then looked at her watch. "Shit, I'm late! I'm doing another collaboration video with Nicole today."

Quinn got up and kissed her husband.

"Gotta go," she said, "Later, my naughty stud."

Jim couldn't help feeling a little dejected. Lately, he and Quinn had been too busy to find time for physical intimacy and he was getting tired of using Pornhub to meet his needs.

Late that night...

Jim was sleeping soundly when suddenly the sound of a shower turning on woke him up. Jim looked over and noticed that the door to the bathroom was open and the light was on. He then looked over and saw that Quinn's side of the bed was empty. He then looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand and saw the time.

"Why's Quinn taking a shower at 1:00 am?"

Jim got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. Once in there he saw that indeed someone was taking a shower.

"Quinn?"

Suddenly, the shower stopped running and the curtain drew back. Jim gasped in shock when he saw who it was.

"Hey, Jim," said Brittany in a seductive tone.

Jim willed himself not to stare at her naked body.

"Brittany, what the hell are you doing in my shower!?"

Brittany smiled flirtatiously as she signaled Jim over with one finger.

"Come on, sexy. Don't you wanna join me? I'll let you clean everything....and I mean EVERYTHING!"

"What I want," said Jim, "Is for you to get outta my house right now!"

"Come on, babe," said Brittany in a deeply erotic tone, "You want me. I can..." She pointed at Jim and her voice grew even more sensual. "...see it."

Jim looked down and was horrified to discover that he was suddenly naked.

"WHAT THE HELL!?"

Brittany signaled him over.

"Come on, Jim! Take me now!"

Reality...

Jim woke up with a start. He once again nervously scanned the room. He calmed down upon seeing that not only was the bathroom door closed but Quinn was sleeping soundly in her side of the bed.

Two nights in a row, Jim thought, What the hell is going on with me?!

Dega Street, the next day...

Jim and Daryl were sitting in the latter's apartment. Jim was in the process of explaining the reason for the unexpected visit.

"...and I'm afraid to tell Quinn the whole truth because she might take it the wrong way and I don't wanna talk to the guys about something like this. Since you have a more...ahem...liberal view on marriage, I figured you were the next best thing."

"Buy liberal view," said Daryl, "You mean the fact that I was banging a married woman for fifteen years, don't you?"

Jim nodded with embarrassment.

"Relax, man," said Daryl, "I get it."

"So," said Jim, "Why am I having recurring sex dreams about someone other than Quinn?"

"Well," said Daryl, "How long have you and Quinn been together?"

"Married fourteen years," said Jim, "and we were a serious couple for about five years before that."

"Nineteen years, huh," said Daryl, "That makes sense. Jim, have you considered the possibility that after nineteen years with the same woman it's starting to get old."

Jim raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying I've gotten bored with Quinn?"

"Yes," said Daryl, "and it's an easy fix."

"You aren't gonna suggest I cheat on my wife, are you," asked Jim in a suspicious tone.

"No," said Daryl in a reassuring tone, "Infidelity's more my thing. I'm suggesting that you and Quinn find ways to spice things up. Do something kinky together. A little novelty goes a long way towards rekindling sexual interest."

"Makes sense," said Jim, "To be honest, though, there's something else about this that's bothering me."

"What's that," asked Daryl.

Jim sighed. "The woman I'm dreaming about is married to one of my friends."

Daryl smirked. "Nicole, huh? I can see that. I mean, she does have the sexy Asian thing going for her."

"It's not Nicole," said a slightly irritated Jim.

"Stacy," Daryl guessed, "I can see that too. I mean, Chuck has a nasty habit of describing his sex life in lurid detail, so it's no secret that Stacy's a total minx in the sack."

Jim groaned in frustration. "Daryl, the woman I keep dreaming about is Brittany!"

All color drained from Daryl's face at the revelation that Jim's having sex dreams about his ex.

"Brittany!"

Daryl's face contorted into a mask of primal rage as he stood up and got in Jim's face.

"YOU'RE HAVING SEX DREAMS ABOUT MY SWEET BRITTANY!?! HOW FREAKING DARE YOU!!!!"

"WHOA, TAKE IT EASY," Jim barked, "The fact that she's married to Kevin didn't stop you from banging her for fifteen years!"

"And now you wanna bang her," Daryl growled, "YOU TRAITOR!!!!"

Nervous, Jim said the first thing that came to mind.

"Say, that's a nice compression shirt! Where'd you get it?"

Tears started to form in Daryl's eyes as he's clearly still not over the fact that he and Brittany are done.

"You know, Brittany used to love it when I kept this shirt on during sex. You wanna take that away from me too?"

Daryl speedily took his shirt off and threw it at Jim.

"Here, take it! TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME!!!!!"

Daryl then crouched down on the floor and started crying.

"Um...," said a freaked-out Jim, "...Oh, my! Is that the time already!?! Ummm....gotta go!"

Jim got up and ran out of the apartment in an uncomfortable hurry as Daryl continued to cry.

Casa Carbone, later...

Having just gotten home, Jim nervously closed the door behind him. As soon as that was done, Quinn approached.

"Hey, Jim."

Jim was startled.

"GAH!"

"Sorry," said Quinn, "Didn't mean to startle you just now. Guess what? I just got off the phone with Brittany. She said Kevin loved the new hot tub."

"Um...glad to hear it," said a nervous Jim.

"In fact," said Quinn, "Their anniversary went so well that they wanna invite us over for drinks and a soak tonight as a thank you."

Jim was horrified at this prospect.

"Um...I'm not too comfortable with that, Quinn."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Jim. You're not weirded out because you had a dream about us doing it in that hot tub the other night, are you?"

Sensing an out, Jim said, "Um...yeah. It's kinda awkward to be in that tub after the dream."

Quinn was dismissive.

"Come on, Jim. It was just a dream. It's not like you and I are actually gonna do it right in front of Kevin and Brittany." She stifled a shudder at the thought.

Jim sighed in defeat. He knew he couldn't protest any further without making his wife suspicious.

Thompson house, evening...

Quinn, Jim and Brittany were sitting in the hot tub. While Quinn and Brittany were perfectly relaxed Jim was visibly uncomfortable. His discomfort was made worse by the fact that both women were wearing bikinis that left VERY little to the imagination.

"Brittany," said Quinn, "This is so nice. It's even better than the jacuzzi Jim and I have."

"I know," said Brittany, "I could sit here and feel the bubbles on me for hours."

Jim nervously tried to change the subject.

"So, um...,why's Kevin taking so long to change into his swimming trunks?"

"I don't know," said Brittany.

Suddenly, they were startled by the sound of Kevin's angry voice.

"BABE, QUINN! GET OUTTA THERE NOW!"

They looked up to see a still fully clothed Kevin holding a plugged-in toaster.

"Kevin," said Jim with an eye roll, "What the hell are you doing?"

"LIKE, WHAT DO YOU THINK, TRAITOR," shouted an enraged Kevin, "I'M TRYING TO KILL YOU BY THROWING A TOASTER IN THE HOT TUB!!!"

"Why," asked a puzzled Brittany.

"BECAUSE JIM WANTS TO STEAL YOU AWAY FROM ME, BABE," Kevin shouted.

"Kevin," said Quinn, "What the hell makes you think my husband wants to do your wife!?"

"BECAUSE HE'S DREAMING ABOUT BANGING HER EVERY NIGHT," Kevin yelled.

"WHAT," said a stunned Quinn.

"THAT'S RIGHT," Kevin yelled as he pointed at Jim, "DARYL CALLED AND TOLD ME EVERYTHING!! HE'S A REAL FRIEND, UNLIKE YOU, YOU TRAITOR!!!! NOW, GIRLS, GET OUT SO I CAN FRY JIM!!!!!"

Kevin then angrily threw the toaster into the hot tub, but nothing happened.

"WHAT THE HELL!?!"

Kevin followed the cord with his eyes and noticed that the toaster had come unplugged because the cord wasn't long enough.

"DAMMIT!! Quinn, Brittany, get outta there while I get the extension cord! Jim, stay in the tub so I can fry your ass...TRAITOR!!!"

Jim visibly didn't know whether to feel guilt or bemusement. Quinn was visibly hurt while Brittany was just plain embarrassed.

Act II
Casa Carbone, evening...

Quinn and Jim, having just gotten back from their disastrous get together with the Thompsons, were having an argument.

"Dammit, Jim," Quinn barked, "Why didn't you tell me you were having sex dreams about Brittany!?"

"Because," said Jim, "I was afraid you'd react like this. I was afraid you'd start feeling threatened if you knew the woman I've been dreaming about was Brittany instead of you."

"What," said a defensive Quinn, "You wanna bang an airheaded blonde bimbo now!? A hot redhead isn't doing it for you anymore!?"

Jim sighed. "To be honest," he said, "that's another thing that bothers me about this. I'm having hot sex dreams about a woman I don't even like all that much. Historically, Brittany has been someone I just tolerated because she's friends with you and married to one of my friends. I'm freaked because I'm afraid of what these sex dreams might say about our marriage."

Quinn's expression was a mix of hurt and anger.

"Are you saying that you're bored with me!?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jim admitted, "I love you, and I'd never cheat on you, but you have to admit that our sex life has been pretty stale lately."

Quinn was about to rip into her husband, but stopped herself at the last second.

"I see your point," she said as she rapidly calmed down, "I have to admit things have been kind of dead in the bedroom lately. I just thought it's because we're so busy, but what if it's more? What if we are starting to get bored with each other in that department?"

"Exactly," said Jim, "I went to Daryl because, given his loose attitudes about these things, I figured he'd have some ideas on how to fix it. He suggested that we try kinking things up a little. Nothing crazy, just bring some novelty back into the bedroom."

Quinn went right into problem-solver mode.

"Makes sense. Any ideas?"

Jim slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"No. You?"

Quinn looked thoughtful, then sighed.

"I can't think of anything."

They both now stood there looking concerned.

Pizza Prince, the next day...

Quinn and Brittany were having lunch and talking.

"I'm sorry Kevie acted so crazy last night," said a sincere Brittany.

"That's okay," replied Quinn, "I didn't take it very well either." She sighed before going on. "Jim and I had a talk about what's going on in his head after we got home."

"And," asked Brittany.

"We both think these dreams are happening because our sex life has gotten stale," said Quinn, "I have to admit, it's been a while since Jim and I have done anything in the bedroom. I remember how it was when we first got married. Jim and I were practically ripping each others clothes off and going at it every chance we got. Then came the kids, our careers, all the other time-consuming responsibilities and now Jim and I rarely get a chance to be intimate and, when we do, it's pretty vanilla."

Brittany just sat there twirling her hair and looking vacant.

"Brittany," said Quinn, "How'd you and Kevin get the spark back?"

Brittany stifled a giggle. "Are you kidding? Doing Daryl on the side was a fifteen year long vacation from my marriage. Now it's like Kevie and I are dating again."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Brittany, nothing against you, but I'm gonna stick to solutions that don't involve cheating. Infidelity's more your thing."

"Don't knock it until you try it," said Brittany in a sly tone.

"Pass," said a disappointed Quinn.

White residence, later...

Quinn and Nicole were chatting over tea in the kitchen. Quinn has just told her about what's going on.

"You asked Brittany for relationship advice," said an amused Nicole, "That's like taking fitness advice from someone who's morbidly obese."

"I know," said Quinn, "But I was desperate. How do you and Jamie keep it fresh?"

"Quinn," said Nicole, "I'm a professional cosplayer, and naughty roleplay NEVER gets old. Jamie and I like to re-enact each others fantasies. Try doing to Jim in real life what Brittany does to him in these dreams."

Quinn smirked as the gears in her head started turning.

Casa Carbone, the next day...

Jim was once again in the garage trying to finish working on the 1957 Bel Air for his latest video. He was not enjoying the experience.

If I ever see another '57 Chevy again it'll be too soon.

Suddenly, Jim's I-Phone beeped as he received a text message. He stopped working on the car and looked at the message. He read it to himself out loud.

"'Come to the backyard and meet me by the pool.'" He was puzzled. "Why's Quinn asking me this with a text message?"

The back yard, a short time later...

Jim's jaw dropped when he saw Quinn sitting on one of the lounge chairs. This was due to her being completely naked.

"Quinn, it's mid-afternoon," said Jim, "Why the hell are you out here with no clothes on!?"

Quinn stood up and flashed Jim a seductive grin as she pointed towards their running jaccuzzi.

"Why do you think, sexy," she said in an erotic tone.

Jim started to perk up.

"Hot tub sex?"

Quinn nodded.

"I'm horny," she said as she licked her lips in an erotic manner, "and I want you...right...now."

"Tempted," said Jim, "but we're in broad daylight. What if our neighbors see us, or worse, our kids?"

Quinn slinked towards her husband.

"That's sooo kinky," she said.

"No," Jim protested, "It's awkward and embarrassing."

Quinn dropped the horny vixen act and groaned in frustration.

"Dammit, Jim, I'm trying to drive you wild with lust by acting out one of those dreams you had about Brittany!"

Jim walked over to the lounge chair, picked up Quinn's bathrobe and offered it to her.

"Quinn, I appreciate the gesture, but what if someone sees us? Remember the last time we did it outdoors?"

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Dammit, Jim! Do you wanna get the spice back in our marriage, or not?"

"You know I do," said Jim.

"Then," said Quinn, "Ditch the clothes, get in the jaccuzzi with me and do me like I'm the hot, buxom blonde you keep dreaming about!"

"Quinn," said Jim, "I..."

Jim's voice trailed off as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

"Quinn, cover yourself right now! I think someone's hiding in our hedges!"

Quinn wasn't having it.

"Jim, it's your imagination, which got us into this situation in the first place!"

"No," Jim insisted, "I saw something moving in the hedges just now!" He then looked at the hedges. "HEY, ASSHOLE, I OWN A GUN! GET THE HELL OFF MY PROPERTY IF YOU DON'T WANNA GET SHOT!!"

Quinn wasn't buying this.

"Jim, quit stalling!"

"I'm not stalling," said Jim, "I'm stopping an invasion of our privacy!"

"Dammit," said Quinn, "no one's hiding in our hedges!!"

Just then, the intruder belched. Jim would recognize that belch anywhere.

"DAMMIT, CHRIS!!"

Jim's brother, Chris, emerged from his hiding place behind a bush.

"OKAY, I'M GOING!!!"

As Chris left in a frantic hurry Jim stared daggers while Quinn was visibly outraged to have her privacy invaded. Needless to say, this was no aphrodisiac and the hot tub sex plan was now a total bust.

Pizza Prince, the next day...

Quinn was now having lunch with Stacy. She'd just told the latter everything that's been going on lately.

"Ohmygod," exclaimed Stacy, "Jim's brother killed your plan by beeing a creeper!"

"God," said Quinn, "It was soooo humiliating! I'm trying to get the spice back in my marriage and Chris is being a total perv just because he has a total crush on me!"

"Reminds me of my husband," said Stacy, "Back in his Upchuck days."

"God, don't remind me," said Quinn, "I still marvel at how you eventually saw past Upchuck and fell in love with him. How do you do it?"

"Well," said Stacy, "We first work each other up with talk that's both romantic and dirty. Then we take off each others clothes while making out. Then.."

"EWWWWWW," Quinn interrupted, "That's not what I meant, Stacy, and you know it!"

"Sorry," Stacy giggled, "Couldn't resist."

"Well," said Quinn, "Since we're on the subject, how do you and Chuck keep things fresh in your sex life? And please stick to the PG-13 version."

"Well," said Stacy, "We have, at various points, dabbled in group sex. Nothing like a full blown orgy, though. Just occassionally inviting a thrid person to join us in the bedroom. Sometimes another woman, somethimes another man. We don't consider that cheating since it's a group activity in which both my husband and I are participating."

Quinn shuddered.

"Nothing personal, Stacy," said Quinn, "but I don't think that's a good idea. I've..." Quinn suddenly amended what she was about to say. "I know someone who had a really awkward experience with that."*

*(Author's note: She's referring to an incident in "Circle of Strife". Specifically, her, Jim and Sandi getting drunk and having a threesome.)

"No worries," said Stacy, "It's not for everyone. That's why Chuck and I only dabbled in it a little over the years. We never became full-on swingers or anything like that."

"Any other ideas," asked Quinn.

"Something that's a bit like group sex, but more vanilla," Stacy answered.

"Like what," asked Quinn.

"I happen to know of a nudist camp outside of town," said Stacy, "Chuck and I have visited it a few times over the years. It's pretty much anything goes. We didn't get it on with anyone else, but being around all of that DEFINITELY put Chuck and I in the mood."

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"You're suggesting I take Jim to a nudist camp!?"

Stacy nodded.

"Chuck still goes there," she admitted, "Not to do anything, but to record others with his phone. We both kinda get off on voyerism."

Quinn was visibly nervous.

"Um, Stacy. About the time Chuck recorded Jim and I out of spite. Did he keep the footage, and have you guys been using it to...you know?"

"Sorry," said Stacy, "but I'm pleading the fifth on that one."

This made Quinn VERY uncomfortable.

Casa Carbone, later that day...

Jim was in the home office uploading his latest Jim the Car Guy video. Once that was done, he sat there and thought of both his professional and personal discontents.

God, I've done everything under the sun with cars. I wish there was more, but it's gotten so repititive. At this point, I'm only doing it for the money. I think that's why I agreed to fix Brittany's hot tub. It was a chance to work on something that wasn't a car, and it was fun.

Jim frowned as he recalled what all that decision led to.

Wish I'd known that seeing Brittany in a skimpy bikini would cause me to have recurring sex dreams about her. Now, Quinn's feeling so insecure that she's trying to push me into wild sexual adventures that I'm just not comfortable with. Granted, we had been taking physical intimacy for granted, but this 180 is too much and too soon. It's impossible to get turned on when you can't stop worrying about unintended consequences.

Jim looked worried as another possibility occurred to him.

What if it's not anxiety? What if that's just what I tell myself because I don't wanna face the possibility of being so bored with Quinn that I don't wanna have any kind of sex with her anymore? I love her, I always have, but what if that's not enough? Have we reached a point where we can only be roommates now? Is being lovers no longer an option? Is this inevitable in every marriage that lasts long enough?

Jim let out a resigned sigh.

I'm not ever cheating on Quinn, but what now? I'm still a man with needs. I guess being married now means porn is my only sexual outlet. Monogamy has just become celibacy, and there's not a damn thing Quinn and I can do about it.

It was at this point that Quinn entered the office.

"Jim, can we talk?"

Jim smiled.

"Of course. Besides, I have some things I need to get off my chest."

Quinn sat down next to her husband.

"Okay, what's on your mind?"

"Quinn," said Jim, "I love you. I always have and always will, but I'm starting to worry that we're no longer sexually attracted to each other and that thought scares me."

"Me too," Quinn admitted, "That's why I've been desperately trying to get the spark back. I know you'd never cheat on me or leave me for another woman, but I also don't want you having sex with me just because you feel you have to."

"I don't want that either," said Jim, "Look, I'm willing to meet your physical needs. I just wish I could want it as much as you do. In fact, that's why I'm willing to give any ideas you come up with to spice things up a try."

Quinn smiled. "I'm actually glad you said that. It makes what I'm about to say less awkward." She took a breath to steel her nerves. "Jim, let's go to a nudist camp this weekend."

Jim's mouth fell open and his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

Act III
Casa Carbone, day...

Quinn and Jim were in the home office arguing over her recent failed attempts to put the spice back in their marriage.

"You wanna spend this weekend at a nudist camp," Jim exclaimed, "Quinn, have you lost your freaking mind!?"

"Come on, Jim," Quinn protested, "You just said you'd give anything a try!"

"Going to a place where we have to be naked in front of everyone and their mother wasn't what I had in mind," said Jim, "Especially since it's a place used by swingers."

"Jim," said Quinn, "I'm not saying we try group sex again. That's not on the table...yet."

Jim raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean 'yet'?"

"Well," said Quinn, "If nothing else works I may HAVE to resort to having someone else join us in the bedroom. After all, we've done it before."

"That was different," Jim protested, "All three of us were drunk and just got so caught up in the moment that it just happened. Also, have you forgotten just how awkward things got afterwords?"

"No," said Quinn, "but the aftermath doesn't change the fact that we both enjoyed being intimate with Sandi." Quinn took a quick breath. "Look, we're getting off topic. Yes, people are gonna be having sex in front of us, but we don't have to participate. I'm not talking about threesomes or swapping, just some voyeurism to get us both in the mood."

"Quinn," said Jim, "I'm really not comfortable with this idea."

"Jim," said Quinn, "do you remember how hot for each other we used to be? Heck, my yoga instructer used to hate seeing us together because it reminded her of just how passionless her own marriage was. Remember when we went camping that one time?"

Jim cringed slightly. "I accidentally ate glitterberries and you had to follow me around to make sure I didn't do something crazy."*

*(Author's note: It happened in the Quinn fic "Of Glitterberries and Awesome Boobage". Jim's hallucinations and the title were actually a deliberate homage to the South Park episode "Major Boobage".)

"Before that part," said Quinn, "We had wild sex in our tent and were actually planning to go skinny dipping in the lake."

"Quinn," said Jim, "We were alone in the woods, not at some swingers resort where everyone else is doing the same thing."

"Jim," said Quinn, "One of the reasons we're in a rut is because we've stopped trying new things. Look, let's just try this. If it doesn't work, we won't do it again."

Jim sighed. After all, it's not like they had to participate in any swinging and that's not what Quinn was going for anyway.

"Okay, fine. We'll give it a try."

Quinn smiled while Jim had a sinking feeling.

Friday afternoon...

Quinn's Cadillac was driving down a rural highway. Inside, Quinn was at the wheel while Jim rode shotgun.

"This is so exciting," said Quinn, "I can't believe we're doing something this crazy."

"I can't believe it either," said Jim, "I just wish I wasn't so nervous. I mean, what if this goes wrong?"

Quinn frowned.

"God, I hope not. If this doesn't work, then I'm fresh out of ideas. I really don't wanna have to resort to swinging."

"Even if we were desperate enough to take it that far I doubt it would work," said Jim, "Since the problem is boredom with our sex life then bringing other people into it will probably create more problems than it solves."

"That's why I'd have to be REALLY desperate to even consider it," said Quinn, "bringing other people into bed with us could backfire and kill any chance of us getting back on track. Fortunately, swinging is just an option at this place, it's not mandatory."

"You know," Jim admitted, "Now that I think about it, you and I watching other people and also putting on a show for them actually does sound kinda hot." He then frowned. "I can't believe we've gotten to a point where we have to sink this low."

"It can't be that bad," said Quinn, "I mean, it's not that different from a place where people are in bathing suits when you think about it."

At this point, Quinn saw a sign by a dirt road. The sign read "Camp Wannalayme Couple's Resort". In small print, it added "clothing optional".

"Here we are," said Quinn as she turned her car onto the dirt road.

Camp Wannalayme, a short time later...

Quinn and Jim were in the small cabin that they'd rented for the weekend. Both were disappointed by what they'd seen of the other people there so far.

"God," said a disgusted Quinn, "I've never seen so many beer guts and sagging boobs in one place. Some people should NEVER be naked in public."

"I know what you mean," said Jim, "How am I supposed to get turned on when half the people here have bodies that look like Ronald Reagan's neck?" He sighed. "Real nudist resorts look NOTHING like what you see in porn."

"Well," said Quinn, "Seeing the alternative might make you more turned on by this."

Jim looked over to see his wife now completely naked. The sight of Quinn's still-hot-at-forty-one body perked Jim's mood.

"Now that's what I like to see," he quipped.

"Okay," said Quinn in a sensual tone, "Now show me yours."

Jim stripped naked. Quinn liked the sight as, like her, Jim has taken good care of himself and remains visually appealing at forty-two.

"Nice," said Quinn as she grabbed a beach towel, "Let's go to the lake."

Jim instantly became nervous. While being naked in front of his wife is no big deal he's still not comfortable being naked in front of total strangers.

Doing it for the marriage! Doing it for the marriage! Doing it for the marriage!

He continued repeating that line in his head as he and Quinn exited the cabin in just their birthday suits.

By the lake, a short time later...

Quinn was laying out a beach towel while Jim was still trying to make himself comfortable with the whole situation. While he was starting to get used to being surrounded by naked strangers Jim still felt uncomfortable with being naked in public himself.

I can't believe I'm doing this, he thought, I mean, is this what it's come to? I've never felt so uncomfortably vulnerable in my life, and I grew up being mercilessly tormented at both school and home.

Quinn came up to Jim.

"So, babe," she said, "Isn't this hot? Doesn't it make you want to..." She slowly traced a finger across her chest. "...do things...to me?"

Jim sighed.

"I'm sorry, Quinn, but this is just too awkward. I just can't bring myself to be horny in a situation like this."

Quinn folded her arms and scowled.

"How about if I was a buxom blonde," she accused, "Or maybe some twenty-something tart."

"What's that supposed to mean," Jim asked.

Quinn said, "It means that you don't wanna do things with ME anymore, but would probably do them with someone else."

"That's not it at all," Jim protested, "I'm feeling awkward and exposed here, because I'm LITERALLY exposed."

"You think I don't feel that way too," Quinn retorted, "I wouldn't even be doing this if I weren't so determined to reignite the passion in our marriage. I don't want us to be like those couples who are more like roommates than lovers and I'm not ready to accept something like that as inevitable."

Suddenly, a female voice interrupted them.

"Excuse me?"

Quinn and Jim turned around to find a college aged girl talking to them. This woman was a hot brunette. Indeed, the sight of her would've turned Jim on if he weren't feeling so awkward.

"Um...yes," said Quinn.

"Yeah," said the girl, "My best friend and I came here in our camper and the stove won't work. I recognized you guys from YouTube. S'mores 'n' Pores and Jim the Car Guy, right? Could you guys take a look?"

"Sorry," said Quinn, "but I only know how to use stoves. I don't know how to fix them."

Jim suddenly felt at ease for the first time since they got there.

"I'll take a look. Just let me go to my cabin and get my tools."

The girl smiled.

"Thanks, you're a life saver."

Quinn instantly became jealous.

"I'm coming too. Nothing personal, missy, but I'm not leaving my husband alone with a couple of naked twenty-year-old girls."

"No problem," said the girl, who was slightly taken aback by Quinn's confrontational tone.

The camper, later...

Jim and Quinn were standing outside while the brunette and her equally sexy blonde friend thanked him for fixing the stove. Jim was talking to the girls while Quinn stood there with folded arms and a very cross expression on her face.

"Thanks," said the blonde, "You're a life saver."

"No problem," said Jim, "Fixing the stove in your RV was fun."

"Quinn," said the brunette, "Your husband's something else."

"Yes," Quinn growled through gritted teeth before grabbing Jim's arm, "Let's go!"

She pratically dragged him away.

"Later, ladies."

The girls wave at Jim.

"See you 'round," said the brunette.

"Have fun, you two," added the blonde.

"Not freaking likely," Quinn growled under her breath as she dragged Jim back towards the lake.

The lake, a short time later...

Quinn was angrily rolling up the beach towel while Jim was trying to get her to talk to him.

"Quinn, please," said Jim, "I know you're upset, but it's not like I was looking to actually hook up with them. Yeah, they're hot, but they're also young enough to be our daughters."

Quinn dropped the towel and started crying.

"Quinn," said a very concerned Jim.

"You...sniff...YOU ARE BORED WITH ME AND...AND...AND I CAN'T DO ANYTHING TO CHANGE THAT!!!! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Jim placed a hand on his wife to console her.

"Quinn, I was excited to fix their stove because it was a chance to fix something other than a car. That's also why I agreed to fix Kevin and Brittany's hot tub. I love cars, but I'm sick of working on them. It's not fun anymore. I mean, how many times can you restore a '57 Chevy before it gets boring."

Quinn suddenly stopped crying and gasped in realization.

Oh...my...GOD!!! Of course! Jim's intimacy issues aren't the problem, they're just a symptom of the REAL problem!

Quinn then voiced her epiphany out loud.

"Jim, I think I just figured out what's really going on! You aren't bored with me, you're bored with your job!"

Jim gasped in sudden realization.

"God, I can't believe I didn't think of that! I mean, it's so freaking obvious! Each one of those sex dreams involved something that was recently fixed! The jaccuzzi dream happened right after I'd actually fixed a jaccuzzi and the shower dream happened the first night after I'd installed our new shower head! My subconscious was telling me I need to take a vacation from only fixing cars!"

Quinn was immensely relieved to learn that her marriage wasn't in trouble after all.

"Jim, if you wanna put Jim the Car Guy on hiatus for a while I'm okay with that. S'more 'n' Pores and that restaurant we co-own bring in more than enough to support our family anyway."

"Actually," said Jim, "I'm thinking of going from being Jim the Car Guy to Jim the Fixer, or the Handyman, or Handyman Jim. I don't know, I just got the idea. Diversify from cars."

"You know," said a grinning Quinn, "The office light in the restaurant has been acting weird lately. I thought it just needed a new lightbulb, but even with a new bulb it's flickering on and off."

"Sounds like a bad wire connection," said Jim, "You let me film it, and I'll gladly take a look."

Suddenly, Jim noticed something.

"Um, Quinn...now that I've figured out the real problem and solved it, being naked outdoors with you's making me a little...anxious, if you know what I mean."

"I do," said Quinn, "In fact, now that the pressure's off, I'm so horny that I NEED a good lay and don't care who sees it."

They pulled each other into a passionate embrace and kissed. Things quickly got NSFW after that.

A few hours later...

The sun was setting as Quinn and Jim made their way back to the cabin after an afternoon of hot public sex. Once they were gone, Chuck Ruttheimer emerged from the bushes with a camcorder. He went through all the footage of Quinn and Jim getting busy and smirked.

GRRR! Feisty!

End Chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany and Daryl make out in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out on the playground with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids play with visibly disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"When Tony Comes Marching Home"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I...
Sloane Mansion, day...

Sandi, Quinn, Stacy and Nicole were gathered in one of the mansion's many sitting rooms having a discussion. While Sandi carried herself with a regal, commanding presence, the other three women looked uncomfortable. The discomfort was due to this get together starting to feel a lot like a Fashion Club meeting despite the club having long been disbanded and all four of them now being married forty-somethings with kids. Nicole wasn't even a member back in high school, having not met any of them until college. Not to mention the fact that Tiffany's not present on account of having died in an explosion two years ago (that she herself actually caused by smoking in front of leaky propane tanks).

"So," said Sandi, "I propose that we contribute to this year's Veterans Day parade. All in favor?"

"Sandi," said Quinn, "We're not in Fashion Club, or even high school, anymore. We don't have to put things to a vote."

"I agree with Quinn," added Stacy, "I mean, I'm forty-one, married with two kids and a news anchor to boot."

Added Nicole, "Not to mention that I'm turning forty-two in a few days. I run my own social media business and have a husband and a twelve-year-old daughter. Also, since Jamie's a war veteran making a contribution to the Veterans Day parade was something I was gonna do anyway."

Sandi fell back on some old, bad habits. "Tiffany, dear..."

"I'm not Tiffany," Nicole interrupted in a frosty tone, "Or do we Asians really all look alike to white people."

Quinn immediately tried to ease the tension.

"Take it easy, Nicole. Sandi and Tiffany were especially close back in the day, so of course Sandi sees her in other Asians. She didn't mean anything just now." Quinn then cast a stern glance at Sandi. "Right, Sandi?"

Sandi defiantly folded her arms.

"Gee, Kuh-winn, are you implying that I'm...racist?"

"Oh, Sandee, no," said Quinn with an eyeroll, "I'm just saying that maybe you haven't fully accepted that Tiffany's dead. Also, we're not in high school anymore. We don't have to treat you like the queen bee."

"I see," said a hostile Sandi, "Then perhaps YOU should be..."

"Sandi," Quinn hissed, "The Fashion Club's long gone. You're no longer President and I'm no longer Vice President."

Added Stacy, "Yeah, let's stop acting like that's still a thing."

Sandi was about to lay into her friends, but instantly thought better about it.

"Very well," said a defeated Sandi, "but that doesn't mean we can't collaborate on things. We may no longer be the most attractive and popular girls at Lawndale High, but we are all still respected pillars of the community."

Things proceeded smoothly after that.

Casa Carbone, that evening...

Jim was in the kitchen serving dinner to the triplets. As he served shrimp alfredo over linguini, he looked at the clock.

"Jeez, where's your mother?"

Teddy immediately jumped at the opportunity.

"Either Mom's having an affair, or Mrs. Sloane turned the girls-afternoon into a hostile debate."

It was at this point that they heard the front door opened. A few seconds later, Quinn entered the kitchen.

"Sorry I'm late, guys. Sandi turned our get-together into a business meeting that ran late."

"It's the latter," Teddy quipped.

"Mom," said Timmy, "are you cheating on Dad?"

Quinn's eyes went wide.

"What!? I'd never do that to your father! Where'd you get such a ridiculous idea?"

"Ask Teddy," said Jim in a sardonic tone.

Quinn looked at Teddy.

"You made a remark that your brother took literally, didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Tommy, "what a loser."

"You know," said Teddy, "I'm not the one who's gonna peak in high school, marry the girl I knocked up on prom night and end up just like Mr. Thompson."

"Shut up, brain," Tommy fired back.

"BOYS," Jim barked, "Can we have at least one dinner where you aren't sniping at each other?"

All three boys shut up. Jim then turned his attention to Quinn.

"So, what happened?"

Quinn explained. "Sandi roped us all into helping out with this year's Veterans Day parade. I think she just wants to polish up her public image and decided to make the rest of us do the work."

"How are you contributing," Jim asked.

Quinn sat down at the table and explained.

"I'm making a parade float depicting our soldiers saving lives."

Jim loved the sound of that.

"Great! I'll be happy to build the thing for you."

"That's the idea," said Quinn, "On that note, I need to borrow your father's war medals. I wanna use them to decorate some of the mannequins on the float."

"That'll work," said Jim as he whipped out his I-Phone and dialed a number. He listened to the ring tone until...

"I'm sorry, but the number you've tried to reach is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again."

Assuming he'd dialed the wrong number, Jim tried again but got the same result.

"Weird, Dad's home number seems to no longer be in service. I'll try his cell."

Jim tried Tony's cell phone. Unfortunately...

"We're sorry, but this account has been terminated."

Jim hung up and looked more than a little put off.

"Dad changed all of his phone numbers!? What the hell's up with that!?"

Pay Day Wholesale Club, the next day...

Quinn and Jim were in the building materials aisle getting supplies with which to make the parade float. Jim talked to his wife as he loaded some plywood on the bulk cart.

"...so after I called Chris I tried Uncle Vito. Apparently, Dad changing both his home and cell numbers is news to them as well."

"Well," said Quinn, "We'd better find a way to reach him fast, because I need those medals in order for this float idea to work."

Just then, they both heard a familiar voice barking orders in the next aisle.

"Come on, woman, put yer goddamn back into it!"

"What the hell," said Quinn, "Jim, that sounded like..."

"I heard it too," said Jim as he and Quinn went to the next aisle, which was baby supplies.

Sure enough, there was Tony. He was barking orders at his thirty-something trophy wife, Jennifer, as she carried a large pack of fresh diapers in one arm and their one-year-old son GJ in the other.

"Goddamn," said Tony, "I can't believe how many diapers we go through. GJ's a regular shit machine."

"Yes, Sergeant Major," said Jennifer in a voice that oozed exhaustion.

"Dad," said Jim as he and Quinn approached.

"Bad Jim," said Tony in surprise, "Insubordinate Slut!? What are you guys doing here!?"

"I could ask you the same question," said Jim, "I've been trying to reach you since last night, but both your house and cell numbers are disconnected...and what have I told you about calling my wife an insubordinate slut!?"

"Jennifer and I are up here in Lawndale, stayin' at the local VFW," said Tony, "GJ likes it there."

"What's wrong with the VFW in Newport News," asked Jim.

"Remember Sgt. Franks," said Tony, "One of my old war buddies from 'Nam. Wanted to show off little GJ to him and he's part of the Lawndale chapter."

"Why didn't you call and tell us you were coming up from Virginia," asked Jim.

"'Cause I only told the people I actually give a rats ass about, ya waste o' man-juice," Tony defiantly spat.

Quinn spoke up. "Since you're here, Tony, I was..."

Tony interrupted her.

"QUIET, WOMAN! Men are talking!"

Quinn folded her arms and let out a frustrated sigh.

"You know, Dad," said Jim, "That still doesn't explain why both your cell and land lines are disconnected."

Tony angrily got in his son's face.

"I don't have to tell yas anything, pansy ass! Do I make myself clear?"

"But, Dad..."

"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, YA SPINELESS FREEDOM-HATING SISSY!?"

"Yes," said Jim with a defeated sigh.

"Both of yas do yourselves a favor," said Tony, "Forget ya saw me!"

Without waiting for a response, Tony stormed off with Jennifer and the baby in tow.

Once alone, Jim and Quinn exchanged glances.

"Well, that was weird," said Jim.

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, "But I wouldn't care if I didn't need your father's war medals to make the parade float."

"Well," said Jim with defeat in his voice, "Given how this conversation went, fat chance of that happening now."

Quinn's inner Helen emerged.

"Jim, I need those war medals, and I WILL get your father to let me borrow them."

"How," asked Jim, "He just told me, his own son, off for asking a simple question and it's no secret that he hates you even more than he does me."

"Oh," said Quinn in a sly tone, "I have my ways."

Lawndale Chapter of the VFW, the next day...

Quinn was walking down the hallway with a box of cigars that she intended to give to Tony as a peace offering. She shuddered at the prospect of having to make nice with her misogynistic father-in-law.

It's for a good cause, Quinn, she silently reminded herself, you can do this.

With that, she approached a door.

Guy at the desk told me Tony and Jennifer were staying in this spare room. While I'm glad he didn't wanna stay with us, I can't believe he wouldn't spring for a hotel while he's in town.

Quinn reached up to knock.

Well, here goes nothing.

With that, Quinn knocked. She was simultaneously disappointed and relieved when Jennifer answered instead of Tony.

"Oh, Quinn," said Jennifer.

"Hey, Jennifer," said Quinn, who then turned towards little GJ in his baby harness, "Hey, cutie. Goo-goo." Smiling, Quinn tickled the baby's chin, eliciting a giggle.

"I...I didn't know babies liked that," said a genuinely surprised Jennifer.

What you don't know can fill the Grand Canyon, you bimbo Quinn thought. Out loud, she said, "I have three sons, so years of practice."

"What brings you here," asked Jennifer.

Quinn held up the box of cigars.

"I decided it's time your husband and I bury the hatchet, so I brought him some cigars."

Jennifer shook her head. "Those aren't Tony's brand; he won't like them." There was a brief pause before Jennifer snatched the cigar box. "But I do, I'll smoke them."

Jennifer immediately lit one of the cigars, disregarding the fact that she has a baby in a harness strapped to her chest.

"Um, Jennifer," said a worried Quinn, "Are you sure that's a good idea while you're carrying your baby around?"

"Relax," said Jennifer, "GJ's in a harness, he's safe."

Quinn rolled her eyes in disbelief.

The rec room, a short time later...

Tony and his old war buddy, Franks, were playing poker with some other Vietnam vets. Sgt. Franks was a grizzled old man around Tony's age with slumped posture and sagging jowls. Tony shoved some chips into the pot.

"I raise!"

"Dammit," growled Franks in a voice that was clearly the result of decades of chain smoking, "I fold!"

"Me too," said another vet.

"Call," said the last player as he moved his chips in.

Tony smirked as he showed his cards.

"Read 'em an' weep, Jennings," said a triumphant Tony, "Full house!"

Jennings grinned as he showed his hand.

"Straight flush!"

Tony was livid.

"GOD-FUCKIN'-DAMMIT!!"

Quinn entered the rec room and approached the guys.

"Tony, Jennifer told me you were down here."

The other three war vets smiled as they saw Quinn.

"Nice," said Jennings in a lecherous tone, "Jennifer got us a stripper!"

"Shaddup," Tony barked, "That's my worthless son's even more worthless excuse for a wife."

Quinn was about to tell Tony off, but immediately thought better of it.

The medals, Quinn thought, I need to get those medals, even if it means I have to take a bunch of disrespect!

"Tony," said Quinn as she desperately tried to repress the urge to go off on her asshole father-in-law, "I...I guess you're right. Jim and I are worthless, but I wish you wouldn't always say so."

Tony knew Quinn was up to something.

"Okay, out with it! I know yer tryin' to butter me up, so why dontcha skip the ass-kissin' an' get right to the point!"

Trying to keep her temper in check, Quinn patiently explained.

"Jim and I are building a float for the Veterans Day parade. It's going to show soldiers in battle. I'm going for something like the Iwo Jima memorial with a modern twist. The soldiers are gonna be in modern uniforms and I'm going to include a medic tending to a fallen comrade while another soldier carries a scared child to safety. I'm calling it 'Saving Freedom and Saving Lives.'"

"Okay," said Tony, "Sounds good, but what's that gotta do wit' me?"

"Well," said Quinn, "For added realism, I want to dress the soldiers in your war medals. Can I borrow them?"

"Fuck no," Tony balked, "I got those medals for killin' a hundred commies in 'Nam, not to mention all the terrorists I killed when I was in Delta!"

"Tony," said Quinn, "That's why you should let me borrow the medals. It's the perfect tribute to your service."

Tony said, "It's five Bronze Stars, four Silver Stars, two Purple Hearts, two Distinguished Service Crosses and the Congressional Medal of Honor. Ya think I'm gonna give that shit to you sos ya can use 'em to play dress up!? No goddamn way!"

"Tony," said Quinn, "Don't you want your medals to be part of a tribute to you and war heroes everywhere? Please!"

"Fine," Tony barked, "Rental price is two-grand!"

Quinn was taken aback.

"You want me to pay to borrow something that my husband's gonna inherit...I've seen your will...ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR FREAKIN' MIND!?"

"Hey, nuthin's free, including my badassery," Tony barked, "An' I want the money up front...IN CASH!!!"

"What," said a taken aback Quinn, "You think people just walk around with two-grand in cash on them!?"

"Take it or leave it, bitch," Tony growled, "I'd suggest ways to get the money quick, but yer twenty years too old an' twenty pounds too heavy."

That stepped on Quinn's last raw nerve.

"HEY, DICKWAD, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I'M AT THE IDEAL WEIGHT FOR SOMEONE MY AGE AND HEIGHT!!! HERE I AM, OFFERING YOU A CHANCE TO USE YOUR MEDALS TO HONOR YOURSELF AND YOUR FELLOW VETERANS AND YOU REACT BY CUSSING ME OUT, CHARGING ME MONEY AND INSULTING BOTH MY AGE AND MY WEIGHT!?! YOU'RE A FUCKING ASSHOLE AND I HOPE YOU ROT IN HELL, YOU MEAN-SPIRITED, PSYCHOTIC BASTARD!!!"

"Ya done," said an unfazed Tony, "Or do ya wanna do some more PMSing?"

"FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE," Quinn shouted as she turned around and angrily stormed out of the place.

Later that day...

Jim was driving his Camaro from the hardware store. He was deep in thought.

Well, now I have all the materials we need for this parade float. I just hope Quinn was able to convince Dad to let her borrow his war medals.

It was at this point that Jim passed by a scrap yard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tricked-out Chevy Silverado pickup that he recognized.

That looks like Dad's truck!

Jim pulled into the parking lot and parked next to the pickup. The Virginia license plates confirmed that it was indeed his father's truck.

What's Dad doing here?

Jim walked up to a station for turning in junk. The turn-in station offered money for anything that could be recycled. He saw Tony there, arguing with a homeless man over a large bag of aluminum cans while the clerk was trying to calm them down. Jim remained at a discreet distance as he watched and listened.

"Hey, old fart," the homeless man barked, "Get your hands offa my cans!"

"Those are my cans, ya fuckin' hobo," Tony fired back.

"You heard him, sir," said the clerk to Tony, "Let him hand in his cans!"

"Those are my cans," Tony angrily insisted, "This crackhead jumped me for 'em!"

"Did not," the homeless man insisted.

"Did too," Tony fired back.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"DID NOT!!!"

"DID TOO, YA LAZY ASS STREET JUNKIE!!!"

Tony was about to punch the homeless man when the clerk blocked him.

"Sir, I'm sorry," said the clerk, "But whoever hands me the cans gets the money. That's our official policy."

Tony, rather than attack the clerk, proceeded to beg. Seeing this shocked Jim to no end.

"Ya don't understand," Tony pleaded, "Takin' care of a wife an' baby when yer retired has drained my savings an' my pension ain't enough to cover all three of us! I'm broke!!! I've lost everything!!! I even lost the house!!! My wife, my son an' I gotta stay at the VFW 'cause I don't want anyone to know that we're homeless!"

Having overheard, Jim gasped in shock.

"Dad...broke...!?"

Act II
Lawndale VFW, day...

Quinn and Jim were visiting Jim's father, Tony, and stepmother/Tony's much younger trophy wife, Jennifer. The reason for the visit was what he'd overheard his father say the previous afternoon.

"Dad," said a stunned Jim, "How in the hell did you end up losing everything you own!?"

Tony said nothing. He just angrily folded his arms and looked away.

"Let me guess," said Quinn, "You blew it all on liquor and strippers, didn't you?"

Tony got right in Quinn's face. "Not that it's any of your business, Insubordinate Slut, but no!"

"Dammit, Dad," Jim barked, "Quit calling my wife an insubordinate slut!"

"I'll call her what I want, pussy ass," Tony defiantly growled. Before his son could retort, Tony moved things back on topic. "Look, you've got three brats. You know what a money drain a baby is. My Social Security and Army pension just couldn't be stratched far enough to cover all three of us. I lost the house, my credit card's maxed out and they're getting ready to repossess my truck!"

Added Jennifer, "He tried to get a job, but nobody in Newport News wanted to hire him. That's why we came here."

Tony went on. "I figure I can do better in a place where I haven't pissed so many potential employers off, but it's not going well...THANKS TO YOU TWO!!"

"HEY, THAT'S NOT FAIR," Quinn shouted.

Added Jim, "How's it our fault that you can't get a job!?"

"EVERYONE IN TOWN HATES ME 'CAUSE OF YOU!!!"

"No," said a stern Quinn, "Everyone hates you because you're a toxic asshole who's living in the wrong century."

Before Tony had a chance to get in Quinn's face again, Jim tried to change the subject.

"Well, Jennifer's a licensed cosmotologist. Why doesn't she get a job?"

Tony was visibly offended by the very suggestion.

"NO WIFE OF MINE IS GONNA WORK WHEN WE HAVE A KID!!"

He took a deep breath before speaking again, this time with a sound of defeat in his voice.

"I'm the man! Providing for the family is my responsibility alone. If I can't do that, then I'm no longer a man. I'm just a beta-pussy cuck!"

While Quinn rolled her eyes, Jim visibly felt sorry for his father.

Casa Carbone, later...

Jim and Quinn were in the home office discussing his father's financial situation.

"Your stupid father and his stupid pride," Quinn ranted, "Not letting his wife work and not accepting any help from us because it'll bruise his insecure male ego!"

Jim was surprised.

"You actually wanna help Dad!? I thought you hated him even more than he hates you. You're not exactly fond of Jennifer either."

"Yes," said Quinn, "but I'm willing to put my animosity aside for two reasons. One, they have a baby and I can't stand seeing an innocent child suffer just because his mother's an idiot and his father's an asshole. Two, I still need those war medals for the Veterans Day float and helping Tony out means I can get them by playing the 'you owe me' card."

"Well," said Jim, "He tried to charge you two grand just to borrow them because he's desperate for money. Maybe he's still open to that. It'll be two birds with one stone. You get the medals and they have some badly needed money."

Quinn shot down that idea.

"Jim, you know perfectly well that two grand won't even last a month while they're taking care of a baby. Your father needs a steady paycheck, not a one-and-done payout."

Jim got an idea.

"Why don't you offer him a job? You've been saying that you need to increase staff at the restaurant."

Quinn was even more opposed to that idea.

"No...freaking...way!"

"Why not," asked Jim.

"Because," said Quinn, "Quinn's Roaster is really starting to take off. I don't wanna ruin that by having an employee who'll DEFINTELY drive customers away."

"So," said Jim, "Put him in a position where he isn't regularly in contact with customers."

"Right," said a sarcastic Quinn, "I'm gonna put a man who considers cooking and cleaning 'women's work' on my kitchen staff. Come on, Jim."

"Look," said Jim, "I know my father sucks at interacting with people in a way that isn't confrontational and offensive, but I also know that he'll hold his tongue when there's a steady paycheck involved."

Quinn sighed. She had to concede that her husband had a point. Tony does have a pretty strong incentive to behave himself under the circumstances after all.

Jim could tell his wife was about to admit defeat and softened the blow.

"Quinn, you're only there two times a week anyway due to your other responsibilities. Our assistant manager is gonna be the one dealing with Dad on a daily basis."

That made the thought of employing Tony a little easier for Quinn to take.

"Fine," Quinn conceded, "but if your father causes trouble, I will not hesitate to fire his ass."

Jim smiled. "I'd question your sanity if that weren't the case."

Quinn stifled a giggle.

Quinn's Roaster, a few days later...

Quinn sat behind her desk in the back office while Tony sat in front of her. The guy who runs the place day-to-day, a thrity-something man with short brown hair and glasses, stood off to the side and listened intently.

"So," said Quinn, "Since I've decided to give you a job can I trust you not to make me regret it?"

"Fine," said Tony. Under his breath, he muttered, "ya insubordinate slut."

"I heard that," Quinn barked, "while you're on the clock, you are to address me as Mrs. Carbone. Got it?"

"Fine," said Tony, resigned to the fact that he now has no choice but to accept his hated daughter-in-law as his superior.

Quinn stood up.

"Welcome aboard, Tony." She then looked at her watch. "Anyway, I have to go. Jim and I have a lunch meeting with a potential YouTube sponsor. I'll leave you in the hands of my assistant manager, Mr. Chafee." With that, Quinn left.

"So, Mr. Chafee," said Tony, "Where ya putting me?"

Men's restroom, a short time later...

Mr. Chaffee and Tony were both in the restroom.

"Okay," said Tony, "Why you taking me here?"

"Because," said Chaffee with an evil smirk, "You're the restroom attendant. I want you to clean the urinals...NOW!"

"WHAT," exclaimed Tony, "YOU'RE PUTTING ME ON LATRINE DUTY!?!"

"Yes," said a grinning Chafee, "Because your elderly. Therefore, I need to put you somewhere useful." He then handed Tony a small toothbrush. "Sorry, but we need the major cleaning supplies in the kitchen and can't spare them on a geriatric janitor. Now, make everything in here sparkle...unless you want to be fired, you old fart."

Tony visibly wanted to lay into Chafee, but immediately remembered that he's doing this to provide for Jennifer and the baby and held his tongue.

Thompson house, late afternoon...

Kevin, Jim, Jamie, Chris and Chuck were hanging out on Kevin's porch drinking beer and talking. Jamie was ranting about his job as a high school history teacher.

"Dammit," said Jamie, "Is it just me, or is each group of students getting dumber and dumber?"

"Just you," said Chuck, "Let's face it, man, the kids haven't changed, we have."

Chris sighed. "Yep, we're the old timers now. I mean, look at me. I was mister football star back in high school. Now, I'm fat, I'm bald, I'm divorced, I'm financially dependent on my kid brother because all of my income goes to Brooke in alimony. It sucks!"

"Yeah, man," said Kevin, "but at least I, like, still have my babe, and she was always my babe."

Not counting the fifteen years she was banging Daryl on the side, that is Jim thought. Out loud, he said, "Well, at least I'm doing better than I was in high school."

"Yeah," said Chris with a laugh, "You used to be a total geek."

Jim stared daggers at his brother for that one.

"Jim," said Jamie, "How's your job?"

"Still trying to figure out how to rebrand my channel, since I'm taking a sabbatical from cars," said Jim. "But for now, I'm recording myself building the Veteran's Day parade float that Quinn designed."

"Speaking of Veterans," said Chuck, "Q told me your father's in town."

Jim nodded.

"I can't believe Dad lost the house," said Chris.

"Yeah, well, I might lose my home soon," Jim lamented, "I'm kinda in the doghouse with Quinn right now."

"Dude," said Kevin, "Like, what happened?"

Jim sighed. "I talked her into giving my Dad a job at the restaurant."

"Speak of the devil," said Chris as Tony's Silverado pickup truck pulled into the driveway of Casa Carbone (which is next door to the Thompson's) . Tony emerged in his Quinn's Roaster uniform. Upon seeing both of his sons on Kevin's porch, Tony made his way towards them.

"Jeez," said Tony, "You assholes do anything in your spare time besides drink beer on the porch?" He then snatched Kevin's beer right out of his hand. "Thanks, Fat Ass."

"Like, hey," barked Kevin, "That's my beer!"

Tony got right in Kevin's face.

"Not anymore, grunt. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?!"

Kevin was sufficiently intimidated to let Tony have his beer.

"YES, SERGEANT MAJOR!"

"So, Dad," said Jim, "How was your first day on the job?"

Before Tony could answer, a large car hauler truck followed by a flashy Mercedes Sedan pulled up to Casa Carbone and got everyones attention.

"What the hell," said Jim as the hauler backed into his driveway, right in front of Tony's pickup.

As the guys all walked up to Jim's driveway, a smartly dressed man in a business suit with lots of bling emerged from the Mercedes and approached them.

"Which onna youse guys is Tony Carbone?"

Tony approached.

"That's Sergeant Major Carbone to you, asshole!"

The guy introduced himself.

"Frank Colombino," he said, "Of Colombino Cheverolet. I'm here to reposess your pickup."

"WHAT," shouted Tony.

"You're six months behind on yer car payments, Gramps," said Colombino. He then turned towards the work crew that was emerging from the hauler. "Tie 'er up, boys!"

The workers started wrapping chain around the axls of Tony's Silverado.

"NO," Tony yelled, "NOT MY TRUCK!!!"

The workers ignored him and continued chaining the pickup to pull onto the hauler. This caused Tony to fly into a rage.

"AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Before anyone else could say or do anything, Tony headbutted one worker. When the other tried to tackle Tony from behind, Tony used the man's forward momentum to throw him over his shoulders.

"YOU THINK I CAN'T KICK YOUR ASSES JUST 'CAUSE I'M 81! I'LL SHOW YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!"

"DAD, NO," shouted Jim as Tony ran into the garage. A few seconds later, Tony emerged with Jim's circular saw.

"BACK AWAY FROM MY TRUCK OR I'LL FUCKIN' CASTRATE ALL O' YAS WITH THIS THING!!!"

Terrified, Colombino ducked into his Mercedes and sped off. Tony then charged at the workers with the circular saw running at full power.

"I KILLED A HUNDRED VIET CONG, THINK I CAN'T KILL YOUSE GUYS!!!!"

Jim, Kevin, Jamie, Chuck and Chris all grabbed Tony from behind. Jamie took away the circular saw while the rest of the guys restrained him.

Shrugging, the workers continued to load Tony's pickup onto the hauler.

Quinn's Roaster, the next day...

Tony emerged from the restroom, and he was visibly pissed.

Dammit, I can't believe the size of the deuce that clogged up that toilet! I had to wash my hands five times to get 'em clean!

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw some customers at the door. It was a family of four.

"Dammit," said the husband, "Where the hell's the hostess?"

"Dad," said one of the kids, "Why can't we just take a table?"

"Honey," said the wife, "We've been waiting half-an-hour to be seated. Let's just go somewhere else."

Tony immediately sprang into action. He went to the host stand and grabbed a some menus. He then spoke to the family.

"Sorry about the long wait. Table for four?"

"It's about time," said the husband.

Tony was about to seat them when Chaffee blocked their path.

"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing, Tony?"

"I'm seating these people," said Tony proudly.

"No, you're not," said Chafee, "You're a bathroom attendant, not a host."

"But," said Tony, "the hostess deserted her post."

"Yes," said Chaffee, "And she'll be fired for it...just like you'll be fired if you don't go back to the men's room and stay there until your shift is over."

Tony let out a defeated sigh as he shuffled his way back to the men's room.

Chafee's office, later that day...

Chaffee sat behind his desk as Tony stood there.

"Tony," said Chafee, "I need you to do the all-day shift tomorrow."

Tony was not happy about that.

"But tomorrow's Veteran's Day! I was gonna march in the parade."

"No, you aren't," said Chafee, "I don't care if you're a vetran. The fact remains that we're right on the parade route and I need the restroom's maintained. You're not marching in the parade."

Tony's patience started to wear thin.

"Dammit, I'm a Medal of Honor winner. I killed a hundred commies in Vietnam."

Chafee smirked.

"Tony, if you don't spend all of tomorrow on the job, then I'll fire you and see to it that you never work again."

Tony looked menacingly at Chafee.

"What," said Chafee, "You can't scare me. You may have been a badass soldier once, but now you're just a useless old man. Accept it, loser...or accept poverty."

Tony let out a defeated sigh as Chafee grinned triumphantly.  It was abundantly clear that Mr. Chafee gets a rush from abusing his staff.

The next day...

The Veteran's Day parade is going on. Jim was driving a tractor that carried the parade float that he and Quinn had made while Quinn was on the float waving to the crowd. Unfortunately, Tony's medals were absent. Like all floats in the parade, Quinn's float also included a plaque that named the builder of the float, in this case Q and J productions.

"Well," said Jim, "Our float's a hit."

"I just wish your father had let me use his war medals," said Quinn.

"Quinn," said Jim, "Dad insisted on marching in the parade. He needed to wear the medals himself."

Quinn smiled. "Well, even though it's not quite what I envisioned, our float's still a hit, so I can let it slide."

What neither Quinn nor Jim knew was that Tony was not marching in the parade because Mr. Chafee refused to give him the time off.

Meanwhile, at Quinn's roaster...

Tony was standing on the AC unit looking out the window as he watched the parade pass by. Suddenly, the door opened. Tony looked to see his other son, Chris, carrying a bag containing a suit.

"Hey, Dad," said Chris.

"You bring it," asked Tony.

Chris unzipped the clothing bag, revealing its contents to be Tony's old Army uniform. Tony smiled.

A few minutes later...

Having changed into his old uniform, Tony checked himself out in the mirror. On one sleeve was his rank insignia, Sergeant Major (highest non-comissioned rank in the Army). On the other sleeve were his qualification tabs. One said "Airborne", a second read "Ranger" and a third read "Special Forces". Pinned on Tony's chest were the following decorations: five Bronze Stars, four Silver Stars, two Purple Hearts and two Distinguished Service Crosses. Finally, around Tony's neck was a blue ribboned medallion. This was the Congressional Medal of Honor. Tony then topped off the look by putting on his head wear, a green beret.

"Perfect," said a satisfied Tony, who then exited the men's room.

A few seconds later...

Tony hadn't even made it ten paces when Mr. Chafee saw him.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Tony turned around.

"Dammit, I'm a veteran. I'm marching in that parade."

"You take one more step," Chafee threatened, "and I'll fire you and see to it that you never work again."

Tony was about to tell Chafee off, until he remembered what would happen to Jennifer and the baby if Chafee made good on his threat. Finally, he let out a defeated sigh.

"Doin' it for the family. Doin' it for the family," Tony told himself as he shuffled back to the men's room.

Chafee grinned triumphantly, obviously drunk on power.

Men's restroom, a short time later...

Still in his Army uniform, Tony looked out the window and sighed. Suddenly, something outside caught his attention.

"What the hell!?"

In the parade, Tony's repossessed Silverado was being driven by Frank Colombino. It was covered in pink roses and buxom models in flag-colored bikinis were in the flatbed, waving to the crowd. Tony was now outraged.

"MY TRUCK!!!"

Enraged and running on adrenalin, Tony quickly climbed out the window.

Outside...

Tony ran across the parking lot, charged through the parade tape and ran right up to the driver's side of his desecrated pickup truck. He angrily pulled the door open and grabbed Colombino.

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU FUCKING SONOFABITCH!!!!"

Tony threw Colombino to the ground and sped off.

Nearby, Quinn and Jim saw what was happening.

"OH...GOD...NO," Quinn shouted.

"DAD," added Jim as he steered the float off the parade route in order to chase after his rampaging father.

Act III
Veteran's Day Parade...

Chaos has erupted at the Veterans Day Parade. Tony had seen his repossessed pickup truck covered in roses and went ballistic. He actually carjacked the truck and sped off.

"MOMMIEEE," cried a terrified little girl as Tony sped past her.

"OH MY GOD," screamed another parade goer as he jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being hit.

"SOME CRAZY OLD MAN JUST JACKED A FLOAT!!!"

Jim was driving the float that he and Quinn had made while Quinn rode along.

"DAMMIT, DAD," Jim yelled.

"WE'VE GOTTA STOP HIM," yelled Quinn.

An alley, a short time later...

The homeless man whom Tony had fought with over cans at the recycling center was dumpster diving.

"Dammit, gotta be something edible in here."

He then fished out an empty Ultra Cola can.

"Yes," said the homeless man as he put the can in his sack. Suddenly, something slammed into the dumpster.

"What the hell!?"

The homeless man emerged from the dumpster to see that what had rammed him was a Chevy Silverado pickup truck.

"HEY, ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR FREAKIN' MIND!?"

A very angry Tony emerged from the truck.

"Remember me, asshole!?"

The homeless man did indeed remember him.

"You're that crazy old man who tried to fight me for my cans at the dump!"

"Bingo," said Tony, "You stole my cans!"

"Those were MY cans," the homeless man angrily insisted.

"An' these are mine," barked Tony as he snatched the homeless man's sack of aluminum cans.

"HEY, GIVE THOSE BACK, PSYCHO!!!"

"Sure," said Tony, "How ya want 'em?"

He then smacked the man in the gut with the sack of cans.

"It the gut?"

Tony then smacked the homeless man with the cans again.

"UPSIDE THE HEAD!?"

"OW," screamed the homeless man as Tony smacked him upside the head with the sack of cans.

"OR IN THE BALLS!?!"

Tony smacked the homeless man in the groin with the sack.

The street, later...

Jim was driving the tractor while Quinn rode the float and kept an eye out for Tony.

"Jim, can't this thing go any faster?"

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Probably should've gone after him in the car."

At this point, they passed by the same alley Tony had been in. Quinn saw something.

"Jim, look!"

Jim stopped the tractor and looked. Laying there was the homeless man, bloodied and bruised.

"My god," exclaimed Jim as he put the tractor in park. He and Quinn then ran over to the man.

"What happened to you," asked Quinn.

"C...crazy old man," said the homeless man, "T...took m...my...can...cough...hack...b...cough...beat me up...hack..."

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Sounds like Dad."

Colombino Chevrolet, at that very moment...

A man in a business suit was in his office finalizing the sale of a new car to a young couple. The woman was visibly pregnant.

"Perfect," said the salesman.

The husband smiled.

"Thanks.  With our family growing, we really need to upgrade to an SUV."

The wife rubbed her baby bump.

"Now we have a perfect family car."

Suddenly, Tony angrily charged into the office.

"REPOSSESS MY TRUCK, WILL YA!!!"

"Sir," said the salesman, "You can't just barge in here!"

"I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT AN EIGHTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD GREEN BERET CAN DO, ASSHOLE!!!"

Tony angrily reached over and tore the salesman's toupee clean off. He then took a stapler off the desk and stapled the hairpiece to the wall.

"NOW WE'RE EVEN, BALDY!!!"

Tony angrily stormed off while the young couple stared in stunned silence. Horrified that his baldness was on display, the salesman started crying.

A bus stop, a few minutes later...

Tony's old war buddy, Sgt. Franks, was sitting on the bench when Tony pulled up in his Silverado.

"Dammit, Franks," Tony barked, "You shouldn't have to wait for a bus. You strangled Ho Chi Minh, for chrissake!"

Franks smiled as he remembered his proudest accomplishment.

"You're right, Tony!"

Tony opened the passenger side door.

"Come on, buddy! LET'S GO KICK SOME ASSES LIKE IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS!!"

Franks eagerly hopped into the passenger side.

Quinn's Roaster, later...

Tony and Franks were in the men's restroom. In one of the stalls a visibly roughed up and frightened Chafee was being tied to the toilet by Franks while Tony taunted him.

"Ya know, you're goddamn lucky Franks forgot his combat knife," Tony growled.

"Unpatriotic asshole," Franks growled as he punched Chafee in the mouth hard enough to make him spit out a tooth.

"...but I didn't," said Tony as he pulled out his own combat knife.

"P...please don't kill me," Chafee begged as he peed in his pants out of terror.

Tony pointed the knife at Chafee's throat. "We're not gonna kill ya," Tony growled, "but in a few minutes, you're gonna wish you were dead!"

Done tying Chafee to the toilet, Franks duct tapped the man's mouth shut. He and Tony then exited the bathroom stall and closed the door. Exchanging smirks, Tony took the out of order sign off the next toilet stall and placed it on the one Chafee was trapped in.

"That second toilet doesn't flush," said a grinning Tony, "Wonder how much ass stench Chafee can take before puking into that gag?"

At this point, a fat man came in to use the bathroom.

"Oh, man," said the fat man, "this one's really gonna smell!"

He then ducked into the other stall. A few seconds later, the sound of explosive diarrhea came from in there.

"Come on, Franks," said Tony, "Let's find some more asses to kick!"

"HOO-RAH," said Franks as he did a fist pump.

Casa Carbone, sometime later...

Tony's Silverado was parked in the front yard. The skid marks in the grass were sure to upset Quinn and Jim. Inside the house, Tony was in Tommy's room. He had calmed down and was talking to his triplet grandsons.

"Boys," said a morose Tony, "this is probably the last time you're gonna see me."

"Why," asked Tommy.

"Is there a price on your head, Grandpop," added Timmy.

"Probably," said Tony, "but not because of anything that happened today."

Tommy and Timmy looked questioningly at their grandfather.

After an eyeroll and resigned sigh, Teddy explained to his brothers.

"Grandpop's a career soldier. Someone in that line of work makes a lot of enemies."

Tony pulled three envelops out of his uniform.

"I was gonna wait 'til youse guys were in high school, but I'm definitely not gonna live that long, sos I'm giving 'em to yas now."

Tony then handed one envelop to each triplet.

"What's this," asked Tommy.

"Letters of recommendation for the Army," Tony answered, "Take 'em with yas to the nearest recruitment station when ya turn seventeen."

Before the conversation could continue, Jim entered.

"Boys, could you go downstairs for a bit? Your grandfather and I need to have a one-on-one chat."

All three boys immediately left the room. Once alone, Jim spoke to his father.

"Well, Dad, you'll be happy to know that Chris and I were able to call in some favors, so you aren't gonna face criminal charges for your little rampage."

Tony sighed.

"Thanks, Jim, but it really doesn't matter."

"Dad," said Jim, "You really wanna spend the rest of your life in prison? You're at an age where any amount of jail time is a potential life sentence."

"No," said Tony, who immediately changed the subject, "Guess this means my job at the restaurant is down the toilet."

"You got that right," said a stern Jim, "There's no way in hell Quinn and I can keep you on after what happened."

"Dammit," Tony growled, "How am I gonna take care of Jennifer and GJ now?"

Jim sighed. "Look, Dad, you're eighty-one. You shouldn't have to work for a living at your age."

"But," Tony protested, "My benefits and Social Security aren't enough to cover a wife and baby. Why you think I'm in this situation in the first place?"

"Dad, I'm sorry," said Jim, "But you're just gonna have to swallow your pride and let Jennifer get a job."

"Not happenin'," insisted a defiant Tony, "I'm a man. Providing for Jennifer and GJ is my responsibility."

Jim let out a defeated sigh. "Look, Dad, I'll help as much as I can, but I can only give you so much money. I have my own family to take care of, not to mention supporting Chris until Brooke stops bleeding him dry with the alimony."

"I don't want any of your charity," Tony growled.

"Dammit, Dad," Jim groaned in frustration, "You clearly don't have enough money to do this on your own. Either let me help you or let Jennifer work outside the home."

"Lemme give ya some free advice," said Tony, "sos ya don't end up in my situation. Buy life insurance. Best investment I ever made." Tony let out a morose sigh. "I'm worth more dead than alive."

That made Jim cringe a little.

Chris's house, the next day...

Chris Carbone was sitting on the couch watching TV and drinking a beer when the doorbell rang. He got up to answer. It was his younger brother.

"Hey, Jim," said Chris, "What's going on?"

"Chris," said Jim, "We need to talk about Dad."

Chris could tell this was serious.

"Come on in."

Jim entered and Chris closed the door behind him. The two brothers sat down on the living room couch.

"What's going on," asked Chris.

"Well," said Jim, "as you know, the expense of taking care of a wife and baby on a pension has left Dad so broke that he's lost his house, his car and after what happened the other day, he's completely unemployable. Quinn had to fire him from the restaurant and there's no way anyone else is gonna give him a job now. The problem is that he still won't let Jennifer get a job and he refuses my offers to help him with money."

Chris could tell there's more to it than the obvious.

"What's going on besides that?"

Jim sighed. "Dad's been really down since what happened at the parade. The last time I saw him this morose was right after Clinton won the '92 election."

"I remember that," said Chris, "he really didn't take it well when a former draft dodger got elected President."

"Despite being okay with a former rapist and insurrectionist becoming President again," said Jim with a chuckle before once again turning serious. "I'm worried he's gonna do something stupid. He's said some things...things that might be a sign of suicidal ideation."

Chris was dismissive. "Jim, I really don't think Dad's gonna kill himself over this."

"He might," said Jim, "If it means Jennifer and GJ can collect on his life insurance policy."

Chris gasped in realization. He knew that while Tony wouldn't kill himself to escape his own problems, he was capable of self-sacrifice if sufficiently motivated.

Before the conversation could continue, Kevin suddenly barged in.

"Guys! GUYS!"

"Dammit, Kevin," said Chris, "Don't you ever knock?"

Added Jim, "My brother and I are trying to talk about some important stuff here."

Kevin explained the reason for his intrusion.

"Like, your father was just at my place. He, like, asked me for some ammo, which I have plenty of, man."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Knowing you, you gave it all to him."

"Um, no," said Kevin, "I, like, tried but he said he only needed one small clip of .45's."

Jim and Chris both gasped in horror as it's now apparent that their father actually does intend to kill himself.

Lawndale VFW, a short time later...

Tony was in the storage room/his and Jennifer's current living quarters. He was wearing his old Army uniform and checking himself out in the mirror.

Okay, I'm ready.

Tony then held up a Colt .45 combat pistol (his old Army side-arm). He held the barrel to his right temple. He was about to pull the trigger when...

"Tony," said Jennifer as she came in with a crying GJ, "I need you to take the baby for a bit."

Annoyed, Tony put down the gun. "Dammit, woman," he growled, "I'm in the middle of something important!"

"I'm sorry, Sergeant Major," said Jennifer, "but I haven't had a break from watching GJ since we moved here...AND I NEED ONE!"

Tony got in Jennifer's face.

"Get back to watchin' the kid! THAT'S AN ORDER, WOMAN!!!"

"Dammit, Tony," Jennifer barked, "I can't take this. I need a break. Whatever your doing will just have to wait!"

With that, Jennifer shoved the baby into Tony's arms and left before he could say or do anything to stop her. Once alone, Tony looked back and forth between his loaded gun and his infant son. Finally, he let out a sigh.

A few seconds later...

Jim and Chris were frantically running up the hallway towards the room where their father was staying. Jim tried to open the door, but it was locked.

"DAD, LET US IN," Jim shouted as he and Chris urgently pounded on the door.

"GO AWAY," shouted Tony from inside, "THIS DON'T CONCERN EITHER ONE OF YAS!!!"

"DAD, NO," shouted Chris.

Then, they heard the sound of Tony's gun going off.

"DAD," screamed Jim and Chris in unison before breaking down the door.

Once they'd broken the door of its hinges, Jim and Chris ran in. The first thing they saw was Tony sitting motionless on the floor. Then they heard the sound of a baby giggling. Tony suddenly turned around. As it turned out, the smoking gun was in the baby's hands. Tony had a proud smile on his face. That was when Jim and Chris saw the bullet hole in a mattress that was stood up against the wall.

"You two mind," Tony growled, "I'm tryin' to teach GJ how ta shoot!"

Both Jim and Chris let out huge sighs of relief.

"Thanks God," said Jim.

Added Chris, "We thought you'd just...well..."

"What," said Tony, "Thought I was gonna kill myself!? Sorry to disappoint yas, but I ain't checkin' out yet. Got too much to do around here. I mean, GJ just fired a shot and loved it! You both cried your first time!"

Both Jim and Chris sat down next to their father and infant brother.

"I'm sorry," said Jim, "but after what you said the other day, I was worried."

"Come on," said Tony, "Ya think I'm some pussy who can't deal with his problems!? Besides, I need to teach little GJ here how to be a real man. Sure as hell can't rely on Jennifer or youse guys to do that! That's why I decided to let her get a job! If I gotta emasculate myself for my favorite son, then that's what I'm gonna do."

"Sounds like a plan," said Jim.

Added Chris, "besides, you're still a war hero. No one can take that away from you."

"Bingo," said Tony, "I may be old an' useless now, but I still killed a hundred commies! You know, once I got the money, me an' Jennifer are gonna move into an apartment. Better for a kid than the storage room at the local VFW. Also, I think I'm gonna buy some walkie talkies, for when GJ's old enough to walk and talk."

Both Jim and Chris smiled. Maybe there was hope for the old man after all.

End Chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany and Daryl make out in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out on the playground with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids play with visibly disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

"Lawndale"
this episode:
"Almost Shameless"
written by
WildDogJJ

Casa Carbone, day...

Quinn and her husband, Jim, were in the home office discussing a recent change in the overall family dynamic.

"I can't believe I have to put up with Tony now," Quinn ranted.

"Quinn," said Jim, "you've already been doing that for the past twenty years."

"But," said Quinn, "Now he lives in the same town as us. It was easier when he lived six hours away because I only had to take him in small doses."

"I know," said Jim, "and I'm not looking forward to it either. Still, he's my father and he needs to find a place to stay. After all, a storage room at the VFW is no place for a small child."

"Don't worry," said Quinn, "I'll help with the house hunting. I don't like it, but I'll do it. I mean, I kinda signed on for that when I married you."

"It's just for the weekend," said Jim, "I can take over on Monday."

"I wish I was the one going to the city for the weekend," said Quinn.

"I know, but it's a birthday present for my brother," said Jim, "I have an obligation to do this. Also, the other guys are coming along and I'm the only one who can keep Kevin from doing something stupid."

Suddenly, there was the sound of a car honking in the driveway.

Outside, a few seconds later...

Parked in the driveway was a white Cadillac convertible. Chuck (formerly Upchuck) was driving while Jim's brother, Chris, rode shotgun. Kevin and Jamie were in the backseat. Chris was wearing a party hat that said 'Birthday Boy' on it. Jim emerged from the house.

"Hey, Jim," Chuck called out, "Ready to go?"

"Guys, I'll be out in a minute," said Jim, "just gotta grab my suitcase."

"Come on, man," Kevin whined, "It's, like, the rotten apple!"

"Big apple," Jamie corrected.

"Whatever, Jeremy," said Kevin.

Jamie sighed. "I'm Jamie."

"Look," said Jim, "Give me thirty minutes. I need to discuss some things with Quinn and make sure I'm not forgetting anything."

Thirty minutes later...

Kevin looked at his watch.

"Dude, what's taking Jim?"

"Come on, guys," said Chris, "You know how uptight my brother is about packing. It takes him forever because he always has to double and triple check everything."

"Wish he'd get over it," Chuck complained, "I have a whole list of things I wanna do while we're in New York."

It was at this point that Jim emerged from the house with his suitcase.

"About damn time," Jamie complained.

Jim placed his suitcase in the trunk of Chuck's convertible before joining Kevin and Jamie in the back seat.

"Sorry about the wait," said Jim, "Timmy was whining about not being allowed to come along and it took us forever to calm him down."

Lawndale VFW, later...

Quinn approached the door to the storage room that Tony, Jennifer and the baby were temporarily living in. She took a breath to steel her nerves before knocking. Quinn was immensely relieved that Jennifer answered the door instead of Tony.

"Hi, Quinn," said Jennifer.

"Hi, Jennifer," said Quinn as sweetly as she could. While she hates Tony with every fiber of her being, she doesn't have a high opinion of Jennifer either. "You and Tony ready to go apartment hunting."

"It's just me," said Jennifer, "Tony's at Cafe Risque with his brother." Jennifer then went to grab her purse. Next to the purse, GJ was sleeping in a crib. "Let's go."

Quinn was a little disturbed that Jennifer was walking to the door without her infant son.

"Hey, who's gonna watch GJ while we're out!?"

"He'll be fine," said Jennifer, "I'll lock the door."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Jennifer, you can't just leave a seventeen-month-old baby alone and unsupervised."

Jennifer was genuinely surprised.

"You...you can't! Why?"

Quinn struggled to contain her disbelief.

"You mean you really don't know!? What if something happens while we're gone!?"

"That's why I'm locking the door," said Jennifer.

Quinn rolled her eyes in disbelief. How is it that someone this stupid is even allowed to be a parent in the first place?

(Author's note: That kid's gonna have a great childhood, isn't he? His father's a toxic psycho and his mother's a total moron.)

Verrazano Narrows Bridge....
Music: "New York, New York" by Frank Sinatra

The convertible that the guys are riding in is crossing into Brooklyn on a bright day with a clear view of Manhattan.

Start spreading the news

A short time later, the guys are crossing the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan.

I'm leaving today

The car is now heading up Sixth Avenue.

I want to be a part of it
New York
New York

The car is now driving by the Empire State Building. Cut to sometime later and we see the guys on the top floor observation deck taking in a bird's eye view of all five boroughs. Next, we see the guys exit the ferry onto Liberty Island. They all snap close up pictures of the Statue of Liberty. Next, we see then having lunch at a cafe in Little Italy. Then, we see them walking in Central Park. Chris tries to feed some pigeons, but they attack him.

New York
New York

Now we see them taking in the sights and sounds of Times Square.

If I can
Make it there
I'll make it
Anywhere

Finally, we see them walking around Rockefeller Center.

New York

Neeeewwwwwww Yorrrrkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Rockefeller Center, afternoon...

Jim, Chris, Kevin, Chuck and Jamie were at the entrance to SBC Studios.

"Happy Birthday, Bro," said Jim.

Added Chuck, "Daria's waiting inside for us."

"Dude," said Kevin, "Daria's here!"

"Um, Yeah, Kevin," said Jamie, "She works here."

This was news to Kevin.

"Dude, since when?"

Chuck rolled his eyes.

"Since 2012."

Added Jamie, "I'm surprised you didn't know, man. She's been a staff writer for the evening show for the past twelve years."

"Thought everyone knew that," said Jim.

Kevin just flashed a goofy smile.

"Cool."

Inside, a few minutes later...

Daria was handing tickets to each of the guys.

"Happy Birthday, Chris."

Chris smiled as he took his ticket.

"Thanks, Daria."

Added Jim, "I really owe you for this. I mean, front row tickets to a taping of The Evening Show. Thanks."

"I didn't do it for you guys," said Daria, "I did it so Jane and Quinn would stop pestering me about the issue."

"Benefit of being married to your sister," said Jim with a smirk, "I know all of your weaknesses."

"What's Quinn doing today anyhow," asked Daria.

An apartment building on Dega Street, at that very moment...

Quinn and Jennifer, with GJ in a stroller, were being shown the inside of a VERY run-down apartment by a realtor. The realtor was a middle-aged woman with poofed out hair wearing a very loud business suit with shoulder pads and dangling earrings.

1985 called, Quinn thought, they want their hideous look back.

"So," said the realtor, "what do you ladies think?"

"It's perfect," said Jennifer, "I'll take it!"

Quinn instantly spoke up.

"No, you won't."

"I...I won't," said a puzzled Jennifer.

"Jennifer," said Quinn, "This wooden floor panels are visibly rotting, it's crawling with rats and bugs...." Quinn sniffed the air with a disgusted look on her face. "...and what the hell is that stench!?"

Quinn followed her nose to the refrigerator that comes with the apartment and opens the door.

"EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!"

The inside of the fridge was covered in rat droppings and cockroaches. Quinn got right in the realtor's face.

"This place is a total biohazard! It should be condemned!"

"Sorry," said the realtor, "But it was first on the list, so I had to show it to you. Frankly, it's been sitting vacant for years."

"What a surprise," said Quinn in Daria like deadpan, "Let's go!"

"Okay," said Jennifer as the three of them walked out the door.

"Jennifer," said Quinn as she stopped them, "aren't you forgetting something?"

Jennifer struggled to think.

"I don't think so."

Quinn pointed to the stroller.

"You almost left your son in this cesspit!"

Jennifer stared blankly.

"What's a cesspit?"

Quinn responded with a face palm.

God, what did I do wrong in a past life?

SBC Studios, NYC, later...

The guys were all sitting in the front row while the band on the stage began to play the opening theme. This was immediately followed by an announcer's voice.

"Coming to you from New York, it's The Evening Show with Frankie LePope. Tonight, we have specials guests Robert Downey Jr., Zendaya Coleman with a special guest musical performance by Taylor Swift. Now...HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEE'SSSSSSSSSS FRANKIE!"

Frankie LePope came out on stage. While the magic of cameras made him look sharp, in person one could tell that he was drunk and had probably been snorting some coke just before coming on.

"Dude," said a stunned Kevin, "He, like, looks a lot better on TV!"

"I'm not surprised," said Jim, "Daria's told me some horror stories over the years. Apparently, Frankie's got a serious drinking and drug problem."

Later...
Music: "Never Getting Back Together" by Taylor Swift

It was Taylor Swift's first set, and she was slaying it. In the audience, the guys were enchanted by the performance. Chris appeared especially smitten, which Chuck noticed.

"Chris, like any of us have a chance with a goddess like that."

Chris frowned.

"You just couldn't let me dream for a minute, could you?"

Later still...

Frankie was back on stage.

"Anyway, that's it for this evening. GOOD NIGHT, AMERICA!"

Everyone clapped as Frankie exited the stage. Once he was behind the curtain, he snorted a line of coke and followed that up with a shot of vodka. Daria approached him.

"Mr. LePope," she said, "Remember what I told you the other day...about my sister's husband coming up with his brother and some friends?"

"Um...what?"

Daria rolled her eyes.

"You agreed to meet them after the show. You even let me give them backstage passes."

Frankie stared blankly.

Daria sighed.

"You were blackout drunk when you agreed, weren't you?"

"Probably," said Frankie as his took another swig of vodka.

A short time later...

Daria was in a hallway explaining to the guys that they weren't going to meet Frankie LePope after all.

"...so unfortunately, it looks like you won't get to shake hands and take selfies with my boss after all, which is probably a good thing."

"Let me guess," said Jim, "He's in his dressing room getting wasted."

Daria nodded.

Suddenly, someone bumped into Kevin from behind.

"Hey, watch it, pal!"

Kevin turned around to see a tall, muscular guy with a shaved head and a menacing gleam in his eyes.

"eep!"

Just then, a voice everyone would recognize spoke.

"Take it easy, Rocco."

Rocco stepped aside. Who should be standing behind him but Taylor Swift herself. The guys were all visibly starstruck.

"You'll have to excuse my bodyguard," said Taylor, "He's great at his job, but not very good at being considerate."

"Ohmygod," Chris exclaimed, "You're Taylor Swift!"

Taylor smiled.

"Guilty as charged. And you are...?"

"Chris Carbone," said Chris as he introduced everyone, "my brother Jim and our friends Kevin, Jamie and Chuck. I...Well, I'm a huge fan."

Taylor smiled graciously. "So, you're a Swifty."

Chris nodded.

"Yes."

Daria explained.

"Sorry, Taylor. They were supposed to hang out with Mr. LePope, but he's...busy."

Taylor mimed holding a coke line and snorting.

"You knew," said an amazed Jim.

"No big secret," said Taylor, "You've been in the business as long as I have, you know everyone's skeletons. Listen, I'm free for the rest of the evening. You guys wanna hang out with me for a bit?"

None of the guys could visibly believe their luck. They get to hang out with one of the biggest pop stars in the world.

Empire State Building, evening...

The guys were at a place on the ground floor called Empire Brew House having dinner with Taylor Swift. Chris was hogging her attention like any guy who gets to hang out with his celebrity crush. To everyone's surprise, Taylor didn't seem to mind at all.

"You're kidding," she said with a laugh.

"Nope," said Chris, "Kevin lost his mind and tried to get his lawn mower back by taking people hostage with a water gun. I was able to convince him to let them go and got him out of the criminal charges."

Taylor believed him, while Jim was a little miffed that Chris was taking credit for something he'd actually done.

"You're a great friend," said Taylor, visibly impressed. "So, is there a Mrs. Carbone?"

"Only the one who's married to my brother," said Chris.

Jim raised an eyebrow.

Is it my imagination or is Taylor Swift actually flirting with my brother!?

"Maybe you've heard of her," Chris went on, "Quinn, the S'mores 'n' Pores girl."

Taylor was visibly impressed.

"You know the S'mores 'n' Pores girl! I'm a huge fan. I'm actually subscribed to her channel."

"You know," said Jim, "I'm a YouTuber too."

Taylor ignored him, which he found slightly off-putting. As Taylor and Chris continued to make conversation, Jim pulled Jamie aside.

"Jamie," said Jim, "Does this seem weird to you?"

"Which part," said Jamie, "Taylor Swift flirting with Chris, or the fact that he's not saying anything that might scare her off?"

"Both," said Jim, "It's kinda freaking me out."

"Me too," said Jamie, "But she's probably just being nice."

Chuck joined in. "That's gotta be it. No way the biggest pop star in the world is interested in someone like Chris."

Oddly enough, Chris and Taylor actually did seem to only have eyes for each other.

I wonder if Quinn's day was just as weird, Jim thought to himself.

Meanwhile, back in Lawndale...

Quinn and the triplets were having dinner. Quinn was fuming about her day.

"God, Jennifer is such an idiot!"

"I'm not surprised," said Teddy, "Why do you think Grandpop married her after Nonna left him?"

"Duh," said Tommy, "She's hot."

"Tommy," said Timmy, "she's our step-grandma!"

"Still hot," said Tommy.

"Still messed up," said Teddy, "Grandpop married a bimbo who's younger than Dad, and now we even have an uncle who's a full decade younger than us."

"God, don't remind me," said Quinn, "and she's so damn stupid that I'm amazed she hasn't lost her kid in a dumpster by now."

"Didn't that actually happen once," asked Timmy.

"Actually," said Quinn, "Now that I remember, it's happened more than once."

"You know," said Teddy, "You might wanna call child services. I mean, it's no secret that Grandpop and Jennifer are unfit parents."

"I would," said Quinn, "but Tony, for all his faults, and he has a LOT of them, is actually a good father to GJ. Now, if only he'd raised his other two sons in a way that didn't scar them for life."

A hotel in Manhattan, the next morning...

Jim has just finished getting dressed.

I can't believe Taylor Swift offered us a ride back to the hotel in her limo. What's more, I can't believe she didn't change her mind when only Chris took her up on it.

Jim looked at his watch.

Speaking of Chris, I'd better head to his room and wake him up. I have a big day planned for us.

A short time later...

Jim was knocking on the door to Chris's hotel room. Suddenly, the door opened. Jim's jaw dropped when he saw not his brother, but Taylor Swift...clad in just a bath robe.

"Hi, Jim," she said, "Chris is still asleep."

"I suspected as much," said Jim, "Um...What are you doing here in just a bathrobe?"

Taylor explained.

"This is a bit awkward, but last night Chris invited me up and I took him up on it. One thing led to another and...well...let's just say I slept here, though there wasn't much sleep involved, if you know what I mean."

Jim raised an eyebrow.

"Could you say that again? It sounded like you just said you had sex with my brother last night."

Taylor smiled slyly.

"We did."

Jim promptly passed out from the shock.

Act II
A hotel in NYC, day...

Jim, having passed out from shock, was starting to regain consciousness. Standing over him were Kevin, Jamie, Chuck and Chris.

"Dude," said Kevin, "You alright?"

Jim stood up, unaware that someone VERY famous was standing behind him.

"I had the weirdest dream," he said, "I dreamt that Chris hooked up with Taylor Swift last night."

"Jim," said Taylor, "That wasn't a dream. Your brother and I did hook up last night."

Jim turned, saw Taylor Swift standing right behind him, and freaked.

"GAH!"

Taylor looked at Chris.

"Is your brother always this high strung?"

"Well," said Chris, "It is a lot to take in. I mean, I'm a suburban cop, you're the biggest pop star in the world."

Taylor immediately spoke to Jim.

"Look, I know this is a shock, but the truth is that your brother and I are into each other. I find his unpretentious ways and down home simplicity a breath of fresh air. We talked about it. I'm booked for a slew of gigs here in New York, so I'm gonna be around until my next tour begins in March. We've decided to give a relationship a try."

Jim was struggling to contain his disbelief.

"Has the whole world gone completely insane?"

"Jim," said Chris, "I know it sounds crazy, but Taylor and I have decided to give it a try and see what happens."

"Thinking you're Napoleon is crazy," said Jim, "You being romantically involved with an A-list celebrity is completely outside the realm of possibility."

"My life," said Chris, "my choice. You'll just have to accept it."

Taylor nodded in agreement while the other guys just stood there, more than a little shocked by this turn of events themselves.

Deciding that talking about this unlikely pairing any further was a waste of breath, Jim decided to change the subject.

"Anyway, Chris, I have a big day planned for us. It's still your birthday weekend, after all."

"Cool," said Chris, "Just give me some time to get showered and dressed."

Taylor smiled seductively at Chris.

"Want some company?"

Chris perked up.

"You bet, babe."

Chris and Taylor went into the bathroom to shower together while Jim, Kevin, Jamie and Chuck just stood there and stared in disbelief.

Lawndale, later that day...

Quinn stood in the driveway by her car and was very unhappy. She impatiently tapped her foot while folding her arms. She then looked at her watch and scowled.

Dammit, where the hell is she!?

Quinn resumed folding her arms and scowling. One of her sons, Teddy, approached.

"Um, Mom."

"WHAT," said Quinn, much more angrily than she'd meant.

"Whoa," said Teddy, "I don't remember doing anything to deserve that...lately."

Quinn calmed down.

"Sorry, Teddy. I'm just really frustrated. Jennifer was supposed to be here two hours ago." She then changed the subject. "What's going on?"

Teddy handed his mother a slip.

"My science class is planning a field trip to the science museum in Swedesville. I just needed you to sign the permission slip, since this is one field trip I actually wanna go on."

Quinn got out a pen and signed the slip before handing it back.

"Here you go, Teddy."

Teddy took the slip.

"Thanks, Mom."

As soon as Teddy had gone back in the house, Jennifer arrived with GJ strapped to her in a baby harness.

"Hey, Quinn."

Quinn angrily pointed to her watch.

"You're late. You were supposed to be here two hours ago."

"Sorry," said Jennifer, "but first I forgot where your house is, so I took the wrong bus and wound up at the mall. I did some shopping, then remembered where your house is. Then I noticed that I forgot the baby at the mall, so I had to go back for him."

Quinn did a face palm as she groaned in frustration.

Casa Carbone, Sunday evening...

Quinn, Jim and the triplets were at the dinner table. Jim has just told his wife and kids what happened in New York. They all burst out laughing because, predictably, they thought he was joking. Quinn was the first one to stop laughing.

"HA, good...heh...Good one, Jim."

Jim sighed. "I'm not joking. We met Taylor Swift, she and Chris hit it off and now they're dating."

"Come on, Dad," said Teddy, "Even Timmy's not dumb enough to buy that one."

"Whoa," said an impressed Timmy, "Uncle Chris really is dating Taylor Swift!? That's so cool!"

"Spoke too soon," Teddy muttered under his breath.

"Come on, Dad," said Tommy, "No way someone like Taylor Swift would even look at a loser like Uncle Chris."

"TOMMY," Jim barked, "What did I tell you about calling your uncle a loser!?"

"Well, Jim," said Quinn, "You have to admit, it's very outlandish."

"I know," Jim admitted, "I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't actually seen it. Look, Chris likes her and she likes him back, for reasons that I can't understand. Granted, I know this relationship isn't gonna last very long, but it's happening and we have no choice but to accept it."

"Despite the fact that it defies all logic," said Teddy.

"This is so cool," said Timmy, "I can't wait to meet Aunt Taylor. I can show her all of my stage props."

Jim rolled his eyes. Has a girlfriend and that kid STILL needs straightening out. "Anyway," he said out loud, "Enough about my reality-warping weekend in the Big Apple, how was your weekend?"

"Jennifer's slowly driving Mom insane," said Teddy.

Quinn sighed. "It's true. First off, instead of just looking for a place, she calls a realtor, sets an unrealistically low price range and I have to tag along just to make sure she doesn't do anything else stupid. Not to mention her tendency to completely neglect her infant son. Doesn't that woman ever think!?"

"Funny," said Teddy, "I wasn't aware bimbo trophy wives had the ability to think."

Quinn stared daggers at Teddy for that one. Teddy, in turn, flashed a half-grin eerily similar to Aunt Daria's.

A few days later...

Kevin, Jim, Jamie and Chuck were sitting on the Thompson's porch drinking beer and talking.

"Guys," said Jim, "Do any of you think it's weird that my brother is suddenly dating one of the biggest pop stars in the world?"

"Dude," said Kevin, "Isn't it, like, illegal or something?"

"No," said Chuck, "but it is illogical."

"Actually," said Jamie, "Now that I've had some time to get used to it I'm warming up to the idea. After all, Jim, didn't Chris used to be a casting agent in Hollywood."

Jim nodded. "Before Brooke completely destroyed his self-esteem and turned him into the train wreck that he is today."

"So," said Jamie, "he used to be in a line of work where he was regularly interacting with celebrities. Maybe some of his old charisma is still there, buried under all that fat, booze and self-loathing. It'd explain why a pop star who could have any guy she wants is so into him."

"Anyone I know," said Chris as he suddenly approached the porch. Instead of his usual moldy, ill fitting T-shirt and torn, stained jeans, Chris was wearing flashy designer clothes that made even him look good.

"Dude," said Kevin, "Like, you look like Jim's brother."

"That's because it is me," said Chris, "I'm just getting back some of my old self. Being with Taylor Swift has done wonders for me. I'm dressing sharp, I'm brushing my teeth and bathing regularly again and I've already lost five pounds. Chris Carbone is back, baby."

"I don't know what's weirder," said Chuck, "You having self-confidence or the fact that we can't smell you coming a mile away."

"I know," said Chris, "Being with Taylor is doing wonders for both my physical and mental health. By the way, she's gonna be staying over at my place for a few days."

Jim was visibly worried.

"You sure that's a good idea? Your place hasn't been cleaned since you moved in thirteen years ago."

"True," said Chris, "Until yesterday! I got rid of all the junk, fixed the structural damage and tidied up."

At this point, a Rolls Royce pulled into Chris's driveway. Taylor Swift stepped out of the driver's side. Since Chris lives just across the street, he called out to her.

"HEY, TAYLOR, OVER HERE!"

Taylor smiled and walked over.

"Hey, bae," she said after kissing him. She then acknowledged the others. "Hey, guys."

The guys all said hi and acknowledged her.

"Anyway," said Chris as he pointed out Casa Carbone, which is right next door to the Thompsons, "That's Jim's house. After I help you unpack, whaddaya say we head over there and you can meet the rest of the family?"

"I'd love to," said Taylor.

"Later, guys," said Chris as he and Taylor walked to his place.

"Well," said Jim after they left, "As weird as this all is, at least she's got him taking care of himself again."

The others nodded in agreement.

Casa Carbone, later...

Quinn and Taylor were having tea in the kitchen.

"Taylor," said Quinn, "I'm curious, why Chris?"

"Duh," said Taylor, "I like him."

"I know," said Quinn, "but why? You could have any man you want, yet you pick a guy who spent the last fourteen years completely letting himself go."

Taylor took a sip of her tea. "Look, I'm a global celebrity. The kinds of men in my world are either self-absorbed pretty boys, sleazeball agents and record execs who just see me as a cash cow to be milked dry. After being surrounded by guys like that since I was a teenager, Chris is a badly needed breath of fresh air."

"Look," said Quinn, "I'm sorry if I come off a little bitchy, but I can't help worrying. I mean, Chris doesn't have the best track record when it comes to relationships. First, the ex-wife who constantly cheated on him before taking everything in the divorce. Then, the girlfriend who turned out to be a violent drunk, followed by the one that turned out to be a hooker. Not to mention the one who was even hotter than you but turned out to be a total psycho. See where I'm going with this?"

Taylor nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I'll admit Chris is something of a fixer-upper, but I was able to see past his flaws to the man he used to be and could be again."

Quinn had to admit that she had a point, especially since she knows from experience that it is possible to become attracted to someone who isn't really your type (David in Is It Fall Yet).

"Well," said Quinn, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still a little skeptical, but I'm willing to be happy for you guys. After all, being with you seems to be bringing the old Chris back."

Taylor smiled. "Thanks, Mrs. Carbone."

"Please, call me Quinn."

Both women smiled.

That's Amore Italian Restaurant, evening...

Chris was on a dinner date with Taylor Swift at the most romantic restaurant in Lawndale. It's the same place where Brittany fell back in love with Kevin, prompting her to end her affair with Daryl. The fact that the woman with Chris is Taylor Swift was drawing a lot of gasps and stares from the other diners.

"Is that...," said one diner.

Another diner shook his head. "Can't be. Probably just someone who looks like her."

"You know," said Taylor, "I think the other diners are jealous."

"Definitely," said Chris, "I'm the luckiest man on the planet."

Taylor stifled a giggle. "I'm the lucky one."

Meanwhile, a woman at the bar was staring at the VERY unlikely couple. This woman was a big breasted blonde in a skimpy black evening dress. She the same age as Chris but, thanks to plastic surgery, looked like a twenty-something supermodel. With an evil smirk, the woman got up from the bar and walked over to Chris and Taylor.

"Hello...Chris."

Chris gasped in horror. He'd know that voice anywhere. He nervously looked up. What he saw comfirmed his suspicions.

"Well," said the woman, "It's been a long time."

Chris managed to get only one word out.

"B...B...Brooke!"

Yes, it's his ex-wife. Chris started breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Finally, he passed out from shock.

Act III
That's Amore Italian Restaurant, evening...

Chris Carbone's dream has just turned into a nightmare. He was on a dream date with a real-life celebrity, Taylor Swift, when who should show up to throw a wrench in things but his ex-wife, Brooke. Chris had actually passed out from the shock. Now, Brooke watched with an evil smile while THE Taylor Swift was trying to revive him.

"Chris, honey," said Taylor, "wake up!"

Chris opened his eyes. "Ta..Taylor?"

"I'm here, bae," said a visibly relieved Taylor.

"I had a terrible dream," said Chris as he stood up, "I dreamt we were on a dinner date when my ex-wife suddenly showed up."

"Hey, Chris," said Brooke.

Chris turned around.

"GAH!!!"

Brooke giggled.

"You haven't changed a bit."

Chris took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, then spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well," said Brooke, "I heard a rumor online that you were dating Taylor Swift and just had to see it for myself."

Chris nervously made introductions.

"Taylor, this is my ex-wife, Brooke. Brooke, this is my girlfriend, Taylor Swift, but I'm guessing you already knew that."

"Duh," said Brooke, "Everyone in the civilized world knows who she is."

"So," said Taylor, sounding more frosty than she'd meant to, "You're the infamous Brooke."

"Ah," said Brooke in a catty tone, "You've heard of me."

"Yes," said Taylor, "I know all about how you cheated on and emotionally abused Chris the whole time you were married. I know that when he decided he'd had enough you took literally everything in the divorce. I also know that Chris needs handouts from his brother because the alimony payments are so outrageous that he can't keep enough of his own income to live on. I know everything."

Before Brooke could clap back, the band started to play a classic from the late ninties.

Music: "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground

"Oh, that takes me back," said Brooke, "Chris, care to dance."

Chris was tempted, but held firm.

"Brooke, I'm on a date with my current girlfriend."

Brooke sensuously ran a finger across her cleavage while batting her eyes seductively.

"Come on, handsome. For old times sake?"

Chris caved, as he was never able to resist when Brooke turned up the heat.

"O...Okay."

As Chris and Brooke made their way to the dance floor, Taylor stared daggers.

Brooke leaned in close and moved her hands seductively along Chris's shoulders as they slow danced.

"Remember when we first got together," she said.

"Yeah," said Chris, "You came onto me at a Blink-182 concert because you wanted to steal me from Brenda Williams."

"That was the ultimate triumph for me," said Brooke, "I stole the star quarterback from the most popular girl on campus."

"Well," said Chris, "You were a mega-hot blonde. Also, you did things to me in bed that Brenda would never have. I was hooked."

"You were always great in the sack, too," said Brooke, "My sexy Italian Stallion."

Chris blushed. "You haven't called me that since the first time you cheated on me, during our honeymoon."

"You were so understanding about that," said Brooke, "Now that you've pulled yourself back together, I wonder why I left."

Chris mentioned exactly why. "You said it was because I wouldn't let you screw every hot guy you meet."

"Well," said Brooke in an erotic tone, "I've grown up since then, but not so much that I can't still drive you wild. I wonder, if I wanted to, could I steal you from a celebrity?"

Chris spoke without thinking.

"If anyone could do it, it'd be you."

Brooke smiled.

This loser never could resist me.

Casa Carbone, the next day...

Jim, Kevin, Jamie, Chuck and Chris were in the basement rec room, also known as Jim's man cave, drinking beer and talking.

"Quinn's going nuts," said Jim, "helping Jennifer find a place to live is stepping on her last raw nerve."

Chris sighed as he changed he subject.

"Brooke's back."

Everyone spat out their beer in shock.

"No way," said Kevin.

Added Chuck, "I thought she'd said she never wants to see you again."

"That was my impression too," said Jamie, "Last I heard, she just wants to spend the rest of her life bleeding you dry from a safe distance."

"She does," said Jim, "That's why she ever remarried, it'd stop the gravy train."

"I don't know," said Chris, "she showed up at That's Amore last night while I was with Taylor. Brooke and I got to dancing and started remembering the good times."

"Chris," said Chuck, "I think I speak for all of us when I say I hope that doesn't mean what it sounds like."

Added Jamie, "Yeah, you aren't seriously thinking of dumping Taylor Swift for that witch, are you?"

"Uh, Jim," said Chris, "I could use some brotherly support here."

"Sorry, Chris," said Jim, "but I have to side with the guys on this one. Granted, your relationship with the biggest pop star in the world probably won't last, but you can't seriously wanna end it just to get back together with a conniving bitch who completely ruined your life. Remember the cheating? The fights? The endless emotional abuse?"

"I remember," said Chris, "but I also remember the hot makeout sessions that led to even hotter sex."

"That's not enought to sustain a marriage and you know it," said Jim, "Though I have to admit that a satisfying sex life is one of the ingredients, but still."

"But," said Chris, "Taylor's a big time celebrity. I know our relationship can't possibly last."

"Yes," said Jamie, "but being with her has restored your self confidence and gotten you to finally pull yourself back together."

Added Kevin, "Yeah, dude, you're not a total loser anymore."

Added Chuck, "You're bathing, taking care of your house, losing the weight and have even taken your drinking down to the same moderate level as the rest of us."

Concluded Jim, "You wanna go back to being a booze soaked, chronically miserable heart attack waiting to happen, because that's what'll happen to you if you get back with Brooke."

Before Chris could say anything, a visibly frustrated Quinn entered.

"UGH! I've had it with that woman!"

"Jennifer still driving you crazy," asked Jim.

"Yeah," said Quinn, "after talking her out of the REALLY bad idea of looking at condos by the shore, she dragged me here because she wants to have some of our old baby toys from the attic. She's up there right now."

Just then, there was another intrusion.

"Quinn," said Jennifer, "this woman wanted to see Chris, so I brought her down here."

Quinn's already foul mood darkened further when she saw who it was.

"Quinn," said Brooke with an evil smile, "Long time, no see."

"Brooke," said Quinn in a frighteningly icy tone, "What are YOU doing here?"*

*(Author's note: For a detailed account of the mutual animosity between Quinn and Brooke, read the Quinn, Season 5 story "California Screamin'" on AO3 and FF.net.)

"Quinn," said Brooke in a mocking tone, "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"Brooke," hissed Quinn as she got in the woman's face, "Let's get one thing straight; we were NEVER friends, you evil bitch!"

Brooke turned towards her ex-husband.

"Anyway, Chris, since I'm new in town, why don't you give me a tour...," She winked seductively. "...sexy. Also, I didn't budget for a hotel, so can I stay at your place for a bit?" She then sensuously traced a finger across Chris's chest. "I'd rrreellyyy appreciate it."

Chris was too turned on to resist.

"Okay!"

With that, Chris and Brooke left.

"Ohmygod," gasped Jennifer in realization, "I just realized that I left the baby locked in the attic!"

Quinn's face contorted into a mask of pure rage.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Philadelphia Stadium, Sunday...

The Eagles were really putting the hurt on Kansas City. In one of the executive suites, Chris and Taylor were watching the game.

"Wow," said Chris, "I've never watched a game from the executive box before!"

"GET OFF THE FIELD, REF," Taylor screamed, "HE CAUGHT THAT INTERCEPTION OUT OF BOUNDS!" She then turned towards Chris. "Sorry about that, bae. I just hate seeing Kansas City lose and...THAT BALL WAS OUT OF BOUNDS, YOU SONOFABITCH!!!"

Chris was a little unnerved by the fact that football seems to bring out Taylor's bloodlust.

"eep!"

"Sorry," said Taylor sheepishly.

"It's okay," said Chris, "If the Eagels had been intercepted like that, I'd be going nuts too."

Now calm, something occurred to Taylor.

"Chris, about the other night. Has your ex-wife come around again?"

"No," Chris lied, "Why?"

"Just a feeling," said Taylor, "That night it looked like she was trying to put the moves on you, and you seemed to be giving in."

Chris was about to come up with an excuse when suddenly, the sound of loud rock music came from his pocket, accompanied by the following lyrics...

Ain't talkin' 'bout love
My love is rotten to the core
Ain't talkin' 'bout love
Just like I told you before

"I didn't know you had a Van Halen ring tone," said Taylor.

Chris looked at the screen. It was his house phone, and he knew of only one person who'd be calling from that number. He quickly pocketed the phone.

"Wrong number."

Taylor seemed to believe him.

"Um, Taylor," said Chris, "I...uh...I gotta use the men's room. Um...Be right back!"

Chris left in such a hurry that it made Taylor suspicious.

The hallway, a short time later...

Chris was talking on his cell phone.

"Sorry about that, Brooke, but Taylor was right there."

He listened.

"You were right, cheating is fun...yeah, last night was some of the best sex I'd ever had. I'd forgotten just how incredible you are in bed...Yeah, I still love you too...aww, Brooke, that's so sweet..."

Chris didn't know that Taylor had followed him and was now standing right behind him.

"Excuse me!"

"EEP!"

He dropped the phone. A second later, he picked it up.

"Sorry, you've got the wrong number! Um...Igottago!"

He frantically hung up before turning to face his visibly upset girlfriend.

"Um...How much did you hear!?"

Taylor angrily folded her arms.

"Enough to know that you're cheating on me with your ex-wife!"

Chris nervously tried to come up with an excuse, but none came to mind.

"Um...uhhh...hoboy...uhhh..."

Taylor rolled her eyes.

"Chris, it's over."

She was about to walk away when Chris proceeded to beg.

"Taylor, please! You have no idea what she does to me!"

Taylor let out a frustrated sigh.

"Look, even if you weren't cheating on me, it's obvious that you're still in love with her. You wanna ditch me for a woman who's only gonna make you miserable!? Fine, go ahead!"

With that, Taylor angrily turned around and walked out of Chris's life. He briefly sighed until something occurred to him.

"Waitaminute! This means that after fourteen years I finally have Brooke back!"

He immediately did a celebratory fist pump.

"YES!"

Casa Carbone, the following afternoon...

Jim and Quinn were hosting a fall barbecue. The kids were playing football while the adults were all mingling. Brooke was chatting with Sandi.

"So," said Brooke, "You're married to the CEO of Grace, Sloan and Paige!? That's so cool!"

"That it is," said Sandi, "That it is."

Tom approached them.

"Hey, Sandi." He then saw Brooke. "Who's she?"

"This is..."

Brooke interrupted Sandi.

"Brooke," she said, "Chris's ex-wife."

"Charmed," said Tom as he shook her hand with forced politeness.

"Hmmm, firm handshake," said Brooke in a brazenly flirty tone, "It's a shame you're married...stud."

That made Tom so nervous that he pulled his hand away.

"Um...I gotta go!"

Once he was gone, Sandi glared menacingly at Brooke.

"Word to the wise," said Sandi in a frosty tone, "You make a move on my husband and I WILL ruin you."

Brooke said nothing, but had a grin that wordlessly said Bring it, bitch!

Meanwhile, Jim was manning the grill, assisted by Kevin and Chris.

"Chris," said Jim, "I can't believe you actually dumped Taylor Swift for Brooke."

Added Kevin, "Yeah, dude. I mean, like, Brooke's hot, but it's Taylor Swift, bro!"

"Come on," said Chris, "You all said Taylor and I weren't gonna last."

"That doesn't mean you should dump her for a woman who'll only string you along for a free meal," Jim pointed out.

"Jim," said Chris, "Why can't you ever be supportive of my romantic decisions?"

"Because," said Jim, "Your life choices are usually very self-destructive, and I'm gonna have to clean up the mess."

Before the conversation could continue, a visibly frustrated Quinn approached.

"Jim, gimmie a beer! Not a can, a whole six-pack!"

"Quinn," said a surprised Jim, "I thought you only drank beer in moderation."

"I do," said Quinn, "But dealing with Jennifer's got me so worked up that I need to get drunk fast!"

Jim sighed. "I figured you were at the end of your rope, so I went and did this." He reached into his pocket and gave Quinn a piece of paper.

Quinn read it and her eyes went wide.

"Jim, is this...?"

Jim smiled.

"Yep, a lease agreement for Colonial Village apartments. I looked at the place, and it's perfect. My Dad and Jennifer can move in as soon as it has our signatures."

Quinn eagerly pulled a pen out of her pocket and signed.

"Finally! I'm finally free of that thoughtless bimbo!"

"What a minute," said Chris, "Why's the lease in your names?"

"Because," Jim explained, "It's a retirement community, and I still have the power of attorney that I used to get Dad out of that asylum two years ago. I was able to move Dad in, and Jennifer goes in as his primary caretaker."

"That's brilliant," said Chris, "but what if Dad doesn't wanna go along?"

"He will," said Jim confidently, "Since the tenants include three of his old war buddies."

Quinn handed the agreement back to her husband.

"Jim, you're a life saver!"

She then kissed him before heading off to chat with some of the other wives. Chris was visibly moved by the display.

"Jim, I just got an idea."

With that, Chris walked up to Brooke, who was by the refreshment table. He took a fork and a glass and tapped.

"CAN I HAVE EVERYONE'S ATTENTION! I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!"

Everyone dropped what they were doing and looked.

"As you know," said Chris, "I was dating Taylor Swift when who should come back into my life but my one and only true love, Brooke, who has recently moved in with me. That's why Taylor and I broke up. Now, now I can be with the woman who was always the only one for me!"

Chris then got on one knee.

"Brooke, will you remarry me?"

Everyone gasped in shock.

Brooke grinned maliciously.

"No."

Chris was stunned.

"No!?"

"Oh, Chris," said Brooke, "You sad, deluded fool. I only got back with you because I like stealing men off of women who are more successful than I am. I'm a mate poacher, not a wife."

Chris was visibly heartbroken.

"But...but..."

"Sorry, Chris," said Brooke, "but ruining your life is much more satisfying than being in it. Now that you and Taylor Swift are no longer a thing, it's time for me to steal another man."

Chris was about to cry when Teddy walked up.

"Uncle Chris, a limo just pulled into our driveway."

Everyone exited the back yard. Chris walked up to the rear of the limo. The person in back lowered the window. It was Taylor Swift.

"Taylor," said a stunned Chris, "Everything happened so fast that I forgot to disinvite you!"

"That's okay, Chris," said Taylor, "Can we talk?"

"Sure," said Chris, "I...Well, you were right. Brooke was just using me for an ego boost. I proposed, and she said no."

Brooke, having overheard, walked right up to them and grabbed Chris's arm.

"Oh, Chris, baby, no! I was just kidding! Of course I'll marry you!"

Brooke then gave Taylor a checkmate grin.

"But," said Chris, "You just said you were only with me so you could poach me off of a celebrity!"

"Oh, beau," said Brooke, "That's sooo cute, you trying to think!"

Chris was nervous. Here was Taylor Swift, forgiving him, and Brooke, suddenly interested in him again. Finally, he made his decision.

"Brooke," he said, "I need to talk to Taylor...in private!"

Brooke went from flirty to angry in record time.

"Don't...you...DARE!!!"

Ignoring her, Chris got in the back of the limo.

"HEY," Brooke yelled, "YOU GO BACK TO HER, AND I'LL RUIN YOU EVEN MORE THAN I DID BEFORE, YOU USELESS JERK!!"

Taylor pressed a button to raise the car window. Brooke angrily pounded on it.

"DON'T IGNORE ME, ASSHOLE!!! NOBODY IGNORES BROOKE DESMOND!!!"

Inside, Chris and Taylor had a heart to heart.

"Taylor," said Chris, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I chose her over you."

"Chris," said Taylor, "I forgive you."

Outside, Brooke continued to angrily pound on the window.

"I'LL CONVINCE THE COPS YOU'RE A RAPIST IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS BACK OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"You know," said Chris as he continued to ignore Brooke, "Now I'm reminded of all the ways Brooke and I are wrong for each other."

"I understand," said Taylor, "How could you not be messed up after a bitch like that gets their claws into you."

Brooke continued to shout from outside.

"HEY, LOSER!!! YOU THINK SHE WON'T DUMP YOU FOR A HOTTER GUY!?! YOU THINK ANY WOMAN COULD LOVE A WORTHLESS SPERM STAIN LIKE YOU!"

Chris sighed. That one really hurt.

"Chris," said Taylor, "Why is it that when someone makes you eat crap you don't deserve, you beg for seconds?"

That gave Chris's self-confidence a second wind.

"Taylor, excuse me a sec!"

Brooke was still pounding on the window when it suddenly rolled down. Chris was mooning her with his bare ass.

"EWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!"

Everyone else present started laughing at Brooke.

"HEY," Brooke yelled, "DON'T YOU SUBURBAN YOKELS DARE LAUGH AT ME!!!"

Brooke got a LOT of middle fingers as a response.

"Hey, Chris," said Taylor, "Blow her a kiss from me!"

Chris gladly farted in Brooke's face. The laughter from everyone continued long after she stopped gagging.

"THAT'S IT," said Brooke, "I AM NEVER COMING TO THIS WORTHLESS BACKWOODS TOWN AGAIN!!!"

"You won't be missed," Chris clapped back before rolling up the window.

Once they were alone, he and Taylor resumed talking.

"Man, that was liberating."

"Hey," said Taylor, "That bitch had it coming. You know, that's what attracted me to you in the first place. I saw that strength and confidence buried under all the years of emotional abuse, and that's more attractive than six-pack abs and a full head of hair any day of the week."

"Thanks," said Chris, "do we still have a chance?"

"No," said Taylor, "but YOU still do."

Chris felt better than he had in years.

"Thanks, Taylor."

End Chapter

Chapter Text

Author's Note:  I wrote this one in script form because I hadn't done that in a while and felt that this chapter would flow better in that format.

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany and Daryl make out in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out on the playground with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids play with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"'T'was the Fight Before Christmas"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I
Scene 1
Ext. Shot: Lawndale Mall
Music: "Jingle Bells"

Snow is falling over Lawndale Mall. Combined with the Christmas decorations, this makes it visually obvious that it's December.

Int. Shot: The mall

The mall is packed with holiday shoppers. Cut to a large pavilion to show a bunch of children in line to see Santa Claus.

Mall Santa: "HO, HO, HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

Cut to a storefront with sports memorabilia in the display window. The sign reads "Fanservice Sports". Cut to inside and we see Quinn and her triplet sons looking at various items. Quinn appears disappointed in the selection.

Quinn: "There has to be something here that Jim doesn't already own."

Cut to Teddy.

Teddy: "I wouldn't bet on it, Mom."

Tommy approaches with a bobble head of Kansas City Chiefs quarterback Patrick Mahone.

Tommy: "Mom, check it out."

Quinn shook her head.

Quinn: "I already gave that to your father for his birthday two months ago."

Tommy: "Who said it was for Dad?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at her son's selfishness. She then appears uncomfortable as this reminds her of herself at that age. At this point, Quinn's husband, Jim, approaches.

Jim: "Whatcha looking for?"

Quinn sighed in frustration.

Quinn: "A present for you. That's why I wanted you to bring your father along on this trip, as a distraction."

Jim: "I figured that, but Dad's looking at an NFL Cheerleaders Lingerie Calender. The fact that he's carrying my eighteen-month-old half-brother with him made being there just a little too cringe."

Quinn stifles a giggle.

Quinn: "It's an interesting window into your own childhood."

Jim lets out a frustrated sigh.

Jim: "I wish my childhood was as idyllic as GJ's. Dad treats the one he had with Jennifer WAY better than the two he had with Mom."

The conversation was cut short by Timmy approaching. He's carrying an autographed poster of NASCAR driver Joey Logano.

Timmy: "Hey, Dad! Check out what I found in the NASCAR section of the store!"

The pudgy twleve-year-old enthusiastically shows the poster to his father.

Timmy: "Whaddaya think?"

Jim: "Timmy, that's a fake. I know because the real one's already hanging in my garage."

Jim looks at his watch.

Jim: "I'd better check on my dad."

Jim leaves. Cut to the triplets.

Tommy: "Why don't we just get Dad a gift certificate?"

Teddy (deadpan): "Oh, yeah. We'll give our father the same thing we give the mailman."

Cut to a display of calendars. Jim's father, Tony, standing next to a stroller containing GJ, the eighteen-month-old son that Tony had with his much younger trophy wife, Jennifer. GJ is soundly sleeping in the stroller while Tony puts up the lingerie calender he'd been thumbing through. Jim approaches.

Jim: "Done being a bad influence, Dad?'

Tony doesn't appreciate the joke and proceeds to make it known.

Tony: "Done being a faggy waste o' sperm, pussy ass?"

Jim explains his position.

Jim: "I just don't think it's a good idea to expose someone GJ's age to that kind of stuff."

Tony: "Hey, it's a lingerie calender. GJ's already seen my Playboy calender and he's doin' just fine. Hell, he's just a baby an' already more of a man than you ever were, pussy."

Jim sighed.

Jim: "Dad, I just..."

Tony interrupts.

Tony: "Say one more thing about how I raise your brother, an' I'll kick yer ass, ya whipped pansy!"

Jim sighs. He then changes the subject.

Jim: "By the way, Dad, thanks for inviting us to your new apartment for Christmas dinner. Quinn and the boys are really looking forward to it."

Tony, as usual, takes the wind out of his adult son's sails.

Tony: "I didn't do it for yas, I did it 'cause I wanna spend some time wit' my three grandsons. Putting up wit' you an' the insubordinate slut's just the price I gotta pay for that."

Jim visibly does not appreciate hearing his father insult Quinn for the billionth time.

Jim: "Dad, how many times have I told you not to call my wife that."

Tony menacingly shakes his fist at Jim.

Tony: "I'll call that bitch whatever I want, an' yer gonna take it 'cause I ain't too old to break yer jaw an' rip off yer tiny little excuses for balls...GOT IT!"

Jim sighed before nervously trying to find a safe subject. Cut to his POV and we see a display of Christmas tree ornaments next to the calenders. Cut to a smiling Jim as he takes one of the ornaments and shows it to Tony.

Jim: "Hey, Dad, how about a new ornament for your Christmas tree?"

Cut to Tony's POV and we see a green and white stained glass ball with the word "Peace" painted on in ornate red letters. Cut to Tony looking in digust before getting in Jim's face.

Tony: "You would like that, ya Democrat-votin' commie faggot!"

Jim emits a frustrated sigh.

Jim: "Dad, it's Jesus peace, not hippie peace."

Tony remains his usual defiant self.

Tony: "We're a Joy family, ya goddamn ingrate!"

Jim was visibly hurt by the rejection.

Jim: "But, Dad..."

Tony: "JOY!!!"

Before things can escalate a beeping sound comes from Jim's jacket pocket. He takes out his I-Phone, reads the text message and sighs. He then turns towards Tony.

Jim: "I gotta go to the police station, Dad. Uncle Vito got himself arrested...again."

As Jim walks away, Tony taunts him loud enough for the whole store to hear.

Tony: "HEY, LOOK AT THAT!!! MY SON THE SPIENLESS INGRATE IS OFF TO COVER MY IDIOT BROTHER'S ASS!!!"

Tony then mimes cracking a whip.

Tony: "WHUP-PISH!!!"

Scene 2
Ext. Shot: Lawndale Police Station, day
Int. Shot: Front desk

Jim enters the police station. The desk sergeant, a middle-aged man with a Magnum PI-style mustache, looks up and visibly recognizes Jim as it's hardly the first time the latter's shown up to bail his uncle out.

Desk Sergeant: "Hey, Jim! Was wondering when you'd show up."

Jim approaches the desk.

Jim: "Hey, Cliff, what'd my uncle do this time?"

Cliff points to the holding cells.

Cliff: "Why don't ya ask him yourself? He just woke up."

Jim approaches a holding cell. Sitting up in the cell was a visibly hung over Uncle Vito. When Vito speaks, his voice and bloodshot eyes indicate that he's still a little drunk.

Vito: "'Ey, Jimmy...hic...Howz ya doin'?"

Jim folded his arms.

Jim: "I got your wife's text message. Public intoxication, gambling or hookers?"

Vito: "D..urp...DWI, Jimmy. Blew a point-two-five on th' breathylizer."

Jim rolls his eyes.

Scene 3
Ext. Shot: A street in Lawndale, day

Jim's Camaro was driving down the street. Cut to inside and we see Jim driving while Uncle Vito rides shotgun.

Uncle Vito: "Thanks for doin' this, Jimmy."

Jim: "Well, they did take away your license. How long's it suspended this time?"

Uncle Vito: "Three months, an' I gotta do some community service."

Jim frowns as he knows his uncle's gonna try to dump the work on him.

Jim: "What kind of service?"

Uncle Vito: "Buildin' a Habitat for Hummanity house for some Ukranian refugees."

Jim is visibly stunned by this.

Jim: "They're letting you build a house for refugees!? I've been on the waiting list since September, when I decided to diversify from just doing cars on my YouTube channel!"

Uncle Vito: "Thas' why I thought o' yas. I know ya been wantin' to try new things."

Jim: "Thanks...even though I know you're just trying to avoid doing any actual work."

Uncle Vito: "Tha's what makes this perfect, Jimmy. I hate doin' physical labor, an' you love building an' fixing things."

Jim had to admit that his uncle has a point.

Jim: "True. Okay, I'm in."

Vito: "Thanks, Jimmy."

Cut to Vito's POV and we see that they're approaching a Christmas tree lot. Cut back to Jim and Vito.

Vito: "Hey, Jimmy, whaddaya say I buy yas a tree this year?"

Jim visibly has no problem with this and actually appears moved (despite the fact that Uncle Vito did try to frame him for murder a few months back).

Scene 4
Ext. Shot: Casa Carbone, evening
Music: "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"
Int. Shot: The living room

The Carbones (Jim, Quinn and the triplets) have just finished decorating the Christmas tree that Vito had bought them and were now admiring it. The family dog, a greyhound named Stripe, approaches Jim and nuzzles him.

Jim: "Yes, Stripey, it's a beautiful tree."

He then proceeds to pet Stripe. Cut to Quinn, looking like she's a million miles away. Teddy notices.

Teddy: "Something wrong, Mom? I mean, you're not saying anything about Uncle Vito buying us the most expensive tree on the lot."

Quinn sighs.

Quinn: "Sorry, Teddy. I'm still trying to figure out what to get your father for Christmas."

Jim: "Don't worry, Quinn. I'm sure you guys will come up with something."

Tommy has an idea.

Tommy: "How about a new torque wrench?"

Jim rolls his eyes.

Jim: "I just bought myself a new torque wrench."

Timmy joins in, but changes the subject.

Timmy: "Dad, are you really gonna build a house?"

Jim nods.

Jim: "Yep. It's for a family of refugees from the war in Ukraine, the Lisenkos."

Timmy: "Want us to help, Dad? That could be our present for you."

Both Tommy and Teddy stared daggers at their brother for that suggestion.

Tommy: "Timmy, I'm the quarterback, not a ditch-digger."

Teddy: "I prefer gift giving that doesn't require me to work myself to exhaustion."

Jim: "Besides, Timmy, I saw how winded you got during the walk home from Q's, and that was just two blocks, most of it going downhill. Also, I already got Mr. Thompson, Mr. Ruttheimer, Mr. White, Uncle Chris and Mr. Rowe to come in on this. I've already got a solid work crew assembled to help."

At this point, the doorbell rings.

Jim: "I'll get it."

As Jim goes to answer the door the rest of the family go to the couch. Cut to the front door. Jim opens it to find Tony standing there with an M249 SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon, a belt-fed handheld maching gun) in his hands.

Tony: "Hey, Jim. I figure since we now live in the same town we could do what we used to do for Christmas back when you was a kid."

He proudly holds up the machine gun.

Tony: "Let's go into the woods an' shoot us a Christmas tree! HOORAH!!!"

Jim: "Thanks, Dad, but Uncle Vito already bought us a tree this year. Most expensive one on the lot, too."

Jim points towards the tree, which Tony eyes with a hint of...jealousy!?

Tony: "You gotta be shitting me!?!"

He actually raises his machine gun and aims at the tree, but Jim blocks him.

Jim: "Dammit, Dad! You're not firing off a machine gun in my house!"

Tony: "Outta my way, pussy ass!"

Jim: "You know Quinn's gonna press charges if you fire that thing."

Tony let out a frustrated sigh and lowered the machine gun.

Tony: "Fine...BUT CONSIDER THIS GROUNDS FOR A FUTURE ASS-KICKING, YA PUSSY-WHIPPED COMMIE!!"

Cut to the couch, where Quinn and the triplets are overhearing and doing their damdest not to get involved. Cut back to the front door, where Tony continues giving Jim a tongue-lashing.

Tony: "...AN' ONLY A FREEDOM-HATIN' LIBERAL PUSSY WHO CAN'T EVEN CONTROL HIS WOMAN WOULD CONSIDER THAT GODDAMN STICK A TREE!!!"

Jim tries to calm his father down.

Jim: "Dad, could you please..."

Tony: "SHUT UP, PUSSY! DON'T GIMMIE A REASON TO TURN THE MACHINE GUN ON YOU!!"

Tony then turns around and angrily marches back to his pickup truck. Cut to Quinn and the boys.

Teddy: "Too bad we can't get Dad a new dad for Christmas."

Quinn's face lights up as she suddenly gets an idea.

Quinn: "Or can we!? Think about it. What's the one thing your father's always wanted but never had?"

Tommy: "A Ferarri."

Timmy: "To be the next Dale Earnhardt."

Quinn: "No, a normal, healthy relationship with his own father."

Teddy (deadpan): "Yeah, we can give him that. Wanna make me President of the United States while you're at it."

Ignoring Teddy's criticism, Quinn gets up from the sofa and walks up to her husband.

Quinn: "Jim, when are you and the boys breaking ground on that Habitat for Hummanity house?"

Jim: "Tomorrow afternoon. Why?"

Quinn: "Why don't you ask your father to come to the groundbreakind?"

Jim: "Because I already know what his answer's gonna be; no, followed by threats and insults."

Quinn pushes past Jim. Cut to outside and we see Tony finish putting his machine gun back in the truck. Quinn calls out.

Quinn: "TONY, JIM WANTS TO ASK YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT!!"

Cut to Jim sighing as he walks over to his father.

Tony: "Make it fast, pussy-ass!"

Jim: "Dad, tomorrow the guys and I are breaking ground on a house that we're building for a family of refugees from Ukrane. Wanna come to the groundbreaking?"

Tony scoffs.

Tony: "You kidding me!? Ya want me to participate in an act of treason!?"

Jim rolls his eyes.

Jim: "Dad, how's building a house for a family treason?"

Tony: "One, they're Ukrainian, an' Trump hates Ukrainians. Two, I voted for Trump 'cause I'm sick o' seeing your commie generation flush America down the toilet. Three, charity's the first step on the road to Stalinism, ya commie faggot! I otta kick yer ass for even suggesting I go to this thing!"

Jim was visibly hurt, but not surprised.

Jim: "Okay."

He turns around and shuffles back towards the house. Tony looks at his son. His angry, defiant scowl momentarily turns into a look of guilt.

Tony: "OKAY, FINE, JIM! I'LL GO TO THE DAMN GROUNDBREAKING! YOU WIN!"

Jim turns around and is visibly surprised that his father is caving.

Jim: "Thanks, Dad!"

Tony: "Don't go gettin' all touchy-feely on me, or the deal's off!"

Scene 5
Ext. Shot: A construction site, day

Jim, Kevin, Jamie, Chuck, Chris and Adam (Stacy's brother) are fastening on toolbelts.

Jim: "Okay, I've set up cameras all over to record everything. Since I'm gonna put the footage on my YouTube channel, let's keep the screw ups to a minimum."

Kevin wildly swings a large hammer around.

Kevin: "You can, like, count on me...OW!!!"

Kevin dropped the hammer on his foot.

Jim: "Kevin, just find something to do where you won't hurt yourself or get in anyone's way."

Kevin: "Okay."

At this point, Uncle Vito's Cadillac pulls up to the curb. Vito approaches the guys after stepping out of his car.

Vito: "Hey, Jimmy, thanks for doin' this for me."

Jim: "My pleasure, Uncle Vito. Thanks for letting me film the process."

At this point, a family of four approach. The family consists of a dark-haired man in his thirties, a blond woman of the same age, a ten-year-old boy and eight-year-old girl who are both the spitting image of their parents.

Vito: "Who are youse guys?"

Jim: "They're the Lisenkos. They're the ones you're building this house for."

The man approaches Vito and shakes his hand, speaking with a heavy Ukrainian accent.

Mr. Lisenko: "Thanks you, Mr. Carbone. I am Viktor Lisenko."

Viktor points to the blonde woman who's his age.

Viktor: "My wife, Sasha."

Sasha shakes Vito's hand.

Sasha: "Thanks yous so much, Mr. Carbone."

Viktor points to the boy who looks like him.

Viktor: "Our son, Dimitri."

Dimitri: "Um..t..thank you...um...sorry, still learn English."

Viktor points to the girl who looks like Sasha.

Viktor: "Our daughter, Valeria."

Valeria just smiled as she shook Vito's hand, having only very recently started to learn English.

Jim: "So, Viktor, what brings you to America?"

Viktor: "War in Ukraine. This going be first house we have since old one bombed to rubble by Russian forces."

Sasha: "That why we flee and get political asylum. War torn homeland no place to raise children. In America, children have chance for normal life."

It was at this point that Quinn and the triplets approached, doing the supportive family thing by attending the groundbreaking. Jim introduces them to the Litvenkos.

Jim: "I'd like you guys to meet my wife, Quinn, and our boys Tommy, Timmy and Teddy."

Sasha's eyes lit up in recognition.

Sasha: "You S'mores 'n' Pores girl!"

Quinn's pleasantly surprised.

Quinn: "You watch my YouTube channel!?"

Sasha nods.

Sasha: "Not much else to do at shelter while wait for asylum claim to go through."

That was when Quinn noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Cut to her POV and we see Tony's pickup truck pull up and come to a stop. Cut back to Quinn.

Quinn: "Excuse me."

She runs over to the truck, determined to give Jim the gift of a healthy relationship with his father by any means necessary. She approaches Tony just as he exits his truck.

Quinn: "Tony, you made it!"

Tony scowled.

Tony: "What's it to you, Insubordinate Slut?"

Quinn visibly represses the urge to go off on Tony for calling her that.

Quinn: "Jim has been talking non-stop about you. He keeps asking 'where's Dad, where's Dad'."

Quinn turns to her husband and calls out.

Quinn: "JIM, YOUR FATHER'S HERE!"

Cut to Jim gulping with dread. He'd hoped Tony would change his mind and not show. He approaches.

Jim: "Hey, Dad."

Tony: "Awright, I'm here to watch you cover my stupid kid brother's ass...again!"

Jim: "Thanks, Dad."

He looks at his watch.

Jim: "Anyway, I'd better tell Uncle Vito that everyone's here. He says he wants to make an important announcement before we break ground."

Tony looks...jealous.

Tony: "Jeez, Jim, why don' ya jus' suck him off already!"

Vito and Jim stand in front of the tools and materials on the site where the Lisenkos house will be built. As the crowd gathers, Vito holds up the shovel with which to dig the first piece up (the only actual work he intends to do).

Vito: "Everyone, before I break ground I wanna take this opportunity to thank the one man who made this possible, my nephew, Jim Carbone!"

Vito affectionately pats Jim on the back while everyone else applauds (except Tony, who's staring daggers at both his son and his brother).

Vito: "In the forty-three years since my favorite nephew, who's more of a son to me than my actual sons, I've had four wives, ten mistresses and god-knows-how-many one-night stands, but I only ever needed one Jim. That's why I recently changed my will. Jim's like the son I never had, so it's only right that when my number's up I leave everything to him. Jim's my nephew, my right-hand, my savior and now, he's my sole heir!"

Jim gasped in shock. His uncle has just publicly declared him the sole heir of his estate.

Jim: "You mean, after you die, I...I..."

Vito nods.

Vito: "Tha's right, Jimmy. I'm leaving yas everything."

Jim: "The mansion?"

Vito nods.

Jim: "The penthouse in Manhattan?"

Vito nods again.

Jim: "The beach house on Cape Cod?"

Vito nods.

Jim: "All of your businesses?"

Vito: "Everything. Congratulations, Jimmy!"

Jim was so moved that a stray tear ran down his cheek.

Jim: "Uncle Vito, I love you!"

Everyone gasped in shock when Jim said that. Vito suddenly went from smiling at Jim to awkwardly backing away from him. Tony looks away in disgust. Cut back to Jim as he suddenly realizes what he said.

Jim: "Oh...God..!"

Jim was supremely embarrassed at having broken the ultimate male taboo; publicly expressing an emotion besides anger.

Act II
Scene 1
Ext. Shot: Casa Carbone, day
Int. Shot: The kitchen

Quinn and the triplets are seated at the kitchen table. They're brainstorming ways to do damage control after Jim's publice display of emotion the previous day. To that end, they're looking at old photo albums that Quinn had gotten from the attic.

Tommy: "Why'd Dad have to act like a woman in front of Grandpop?"

Timmy: "Yeah, Grandpop hates women."

Teddy, the most mature of the three, tries to explain.

Teddy: "Look, Dad was very moved by Uncle Vito's announcement that he'd inherit everything after Uncle Vito dies. Considering how toxic Grandpop has always been towards Dad, it's really no surprise that Dad would latch on to Uncle Vito as a surrogate father. That's why Dad always cleans up the mess when Uncle Vito does something stupid and willingly enables Uncle Vito's reckless hedonism. It's also why Dad being named Uncle Vito's sole heir made Dad overly emotional."

Tommy and Timmy stare blankly at Teddy for a second, then...

Tommy: "Brain."

Timmy: "Weirdo."

Teddy sighs and rolls his eyes in response. Finally, Quinn joins the conversation.

Quinn: "Boys, don't start! Look, we need to figure out how to fix the rift this caused between your father and grandfather."

Quinn looks at the photo album.

Quinn: "There's gotta be some happy moment of father/son bonding in here."

Cut to Quinn's POV and we see pictures of Jim as a child and Tony in his prime. We see one of a five-year-old Jim happily opening a present on Christmas morning while Tony stands behind him. Unfortunately, Tony has his arms folded and an angry scowl on his face.

Cut to Tommy's POV and we see a picture of two-year-old Jim walking across a rug in a pair of Tony's boots. In the next picture, however, Tony is whipping the toddler with his belt as punishment for Jim daring to touch his stuff.

Cut to Timmy's POV and we see a picture of ten-year-old Jim and forty-nine-year-old Tony. Tony looks happy in the picture while Jim looks traumatized.

Cut to Teddy's POV and we see six-year-old Jim standing behind a two-foot-high golf tee and holding a small baseball bat. The boy is visibly crying while a forty-four-year-old Tony is visibly berating him for not being good at tee-ball.

Cut to Teddy looking up from the pictures and sighing.

Teddy: "I give up. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack, only I don't think there even is a needle in this particular haystack."

Tommy agrees with Teddy (a rarity).

Tommy: "Yeah. In every picture I find, Grandpop is ripping Dad a new one."

Timmy nods.

Timmy: "And the ones where Grandpop looks happy, Dad looks miserable."

Quinn was refusing to give up.

Quinn: "I don't care how much of an abusive psycho your grandfather is, there just has to be one where he and your father are both happy and having fun."

Quinn sees that she's reached the end of the photo album. She lets out a frustrated sigh.

Quinn: "Dammit! You mean there's not one moment from your father's childhood where both he and Grandpa Tony are happy!"

Teddy (deadpan): "What a surprise."

Quinn scowls at Teddy. In turn, Teddy flashes a half-grin that proves that he truly is Daria's nephew.

Scene 2
Ext. Shot: Construction site, day

We see that the foundation of the Lisenko house has been done as well as the walkway, but the rest of the house has yet to be built. The rest of the guys were already there and had apparently started without Jim. Cut to the street and we see Jim's Camaro pull up and come to a stop. After the engine shuts off Jim emerges from the car with a bag in one hand. He makes his way to the guys and holds up the bag.

Jim: "Sorry I'm late. I had to stop at Deuce's Hardware and pick up some more nails."

The other guys (Kevin, Jamie, Chuck, Chris and Adam) look at Jim and start snickering.

Jim: "What's so funny?"

Cut to the guys parting to opposite sides of the walkway. Close-up of the walkway to see a giant heart drawn in the concrete. Inside this heart shape are the words "Jim + Vito 4EVER". Cut to a visibly angry Jim.

Jim: "DAMMIT, GUYS!!! CEMENT IS PERMANENT!"

Jamie snickers.

Jamie: "As permanent as your love, homo."

The other guys laugh hysterically.

Jim: "Dammit, Jamie, that's not the kind of love I meant and you know it!"

Kevin: "Dude, don't be so sensitive...unless you're, like, really going gay on us or something."

Jim's anger is now visibly rising.

Jim: "SHUT UP, KEVIN!"

Chuck proceeds to taunt Jim further.

Chuck: "We aren't judging you, Jim. Whatever makes you happy...even getting...GRRR, feisty...with your Uncle."

The laughter resumes, further fueling Jim's anger.

Jim: "Dammit, Chuck, I'm not gay! I was just caught up in a Halmark moment!"

Chris speaks to his brother in a mocking tone.

Chris: "Oh, poor self-loathing Jim. It's the twenty-first century, come out of the closet."

Jim's nearing his tipping point.

Jim: "You guys don't knock it off and I guaran-damn-tee some asses are gonna get kicked!"

Kevin (mocking): "Not by a wuss like you, man!"

Adam now piles on.

Adam (singing): "Jim and Vito, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-..." Jim punches him in the mouth. "...OWWWWWWW!!!!"

Jim: "ANYONE ELSE WANNA TEST ME!?!"

That stopped the childish teasing.

Jim: "That's what I thought!"

At this point the home's future resident, Viktor Lisenko, approaches.

Viktor: "Everything is okay?"

Jim: "No, Mr. Lisenko, everything is not okay! Everyone's giving me hell over what I said at the groundbreaking! Uncle Vito was even so embarrassed that he wrote me out of his will!  I'm not inheriting jack from him now!"

Jim then turns to the other guys.

Jim: "Now come on! We still have a house to build!"

Scene 3
80's Style Montage scene
Music: "I'm Free" by Kenny Loggins

First, we see a shot of the guys building the frame of the house. Jim measures out the wooden beams before Kevin and Jamie hold them in place while Adam secures the beams with a nail gun. Next, we see a shot of Chris and Chuck laying bricks to form the outer wall. Next shot is a speed shot of the bricks forming the exterior walls of the house. Next, we see Jim install insulation on the inside of the house. He then erects plywood over them to form the interior walls and uses the nailgun to secure the plywood panels in place. Cut to a shot of Chuck and Kevin mixing plaster to form drywall. Kevin splashes soe of the wet plaster on Chuck. Chuck angrily responds by dunking Kevin's face in the mixture. Next, a shot of Jamie and Adam applying the drywall over the plywood that Jim had installed. Next, a shot of Kevin and Chris building the roof. Kevin accidentally nails his own hand to the roof. Cut to a shot of Kevin's hand being bandaged at the hospital. Cut back to the Lisenko house and we see Kevin and Jim installing the windows. Kevin accidentally caulks his other hand to the window frame, leading to another visit to the ER. Next, a shot of Jim and Chuck painting some of the interior walls while Kevin sits off to the side, unable to help due to both of his hands being bandaged. Next, a shot of Chris and Jamie erecting Christmas lights. Kevin flicks a light switch despite Jamie visibly warning him not too. Kevin receives an electrical shock. Cut to the ER, where Kevin's now being treated for electrical burns. Cut to the other guys visibly wondering how someone so accident prone managed to survive to his forties.

Scene 4
Ext. Shot: Casa Carbone, evening
Int. Shot: Home office

Jim and Quinn were both sitting at their desks. Quinn is uploading her latest S'mores 'n' Pores video while Jim is talking on the phone. Cut to Jim as he frowns.

Jim: "But Dad, all I did was emote in public." Pause as Jim frowns. "Dad, I'm sorry!" Jim appears even more forlorn as he listens. "Okay, fine."

Jim hangs up and turns towards Quinn.

Jim: "Dad just uninvited us from Christmas dinner. He says he can't even look at me after I what I said to Uncle Vito at the groundbreaking. He called me a pussy, a homo and an incetuous faggot. Said he never wants to see or hear from me again."

Quinn remains determined to help her husband forge a better relationship with his father as a Christmas gift.

Quinn: "Jim, why don't you call your father back and tell him how that makes you feel?"

Jim visibly balks at his wife's suggestion.

Jim: "Dammit, Quinn, emoting to Uncle Vito is what got me in this jam in the first place. I've been disowned by both my father and my uncle, my friends all mock me incessantly. I'm being dismissed as a weakling and accused of incest and homosexuality by everyone I know. I'm not gonna make it worse by emoting to my father over the phone."

Quinn: "Jim, no one really thinks you're gay or incestuous. Your friends are just saying all that because they're all a bunch of immature idiots. Yeah, it was pretty cruel of Uncle Vito to suddenly change his mind about leaving everything to you and give it to one of his numerous bastards instead and Tony disowning you is just as bad, but I know how toxic and ignorant those guys both are. Your friends and Vito will come around eventually. As for your father, you need to try and patch things up."

Jim shakes his head.

Jim: "It's too late. I really don't think there's any coming back from this."

Quinn plays her next card.

Quinn: "Jim, I've already bought all the food. It's way too much for just us and we just finished the Thanksgiving leftovers. I don't want half of our Christmas ham going to waste."

Jim appears thoughtful.

Jim: "You know, Viktor has been helping with the project. We're becoming friends fast, and his house is almost finished. They're actually moving in tomorrow."

Jim then gets an idea.

Jim: "I know, we'll have Christmas dinner with the Lisenkos! It'll be a great way to break the house in."

Quinn frowns visibly dismayed that Jim would rather spend Christmas with people they just met than with his own father.

Scene 5
Ext. Shot: Colonial Village Apartments, day

The buildings in the apartment complex are all red brick colonial style townhomes.

Int. Shot: Tony and Jennifer's apartment

Quinn and Jennifer are sitting on the couch drinking tea while GJ is in his playpen.

Quinn: "You know, Jim and the boys are really bummed about being uninvited from Christmas dinner. I wish Tony would reconsider."

Jennifer takes a sip of tea.

Jennifer: "Tony won't do that because Jim's too cruel."

Quinn is visibly offended.

Quinn: "Excuse me! Even you're not too dense to realize that Tony's the cruel one!"

Jennifer is insistent.

Jennifer: "Jim IS cruel! He said he loves Vito!"

Quinn raises an eyebrow.

Quinn: "How's that cruel?"

Jennifer: "Jim should say he loves Tony! It's what Tony told me to think!"

Quinn was visibly shocked.

Quinn: "Tony...is jealous!? But...but...that's a human emotion!"

Quinn suddenly gets an idea.

Quinn: "Jennifer, how'd you like to help me patch things up between our husbands?"

Jennifer visibly likes the idea.

Jennifer: "What do you want me to do?"

Scene 6
Ext. Shot: Lisenko house, Christmas evening
Music: Silent Night

The exterior of the house is not entirely finished as the porch still needs to be built. If it weren't for the three inches of snow on the ground, we'd also see that the lawn has yet to be sodded.

Int. Shot: Dining room

Except for a few unpainted walls, the interior of the house is finished. The Carbones (Jim, Quinn, Tommy, Timmy and Teddy) and the Lisenkos (Viktor, Sasha, Dimitri and Valeria) are seated around the table. Next to Quinn, we see GJ in a high chair.

Jim: "Quinn, I can't believe Jennifer made you babysit GJ on Christmas."

Quinn: "Well, she needs a break from mothering and I kinda miss when the boys were babies, so it works out."

Cut to the triplets exchanging looks.

Teddy: "Mom's definitely up to something."

Tommy: "Definitely."

Timmy: "No question."

Cut to a wide shot of the two families.

Jim: "Now, Viktor, I'm not sure how it works in Ukraine, but here it's usually the man of the house who says grace at Christmas dinner."

Viktor: "Is same in Ukraine."

The two families bow their heads when suddenly the doorbell rings.

Quinn: "I'll get it."

She gets up and takes GJ out of his high chair. Cut to Jim eyeing his wife with suspicion.

Jim (thought VO): What's Quinn up to?

Cut to the front door. Quinn opens the door to reveal Tony and Jennifer standing there. Without preamble, she holds up GJ.

Quinn: "Someone missing a baby."

Tony scowls at his wife.

Tony: "Dammit, Jennifer, you told me you left GJ sleeping in a wheelbarrel!"

Quinn proceeds with the next step of her and Jennifer's plan.

Quinn: "Well, since you're here, why don't you come in and eat something. It is Christmas, after all."

Jennifer: "Can we, Tony?"

Tony sniffed the air.

Tony: "Well, I smell Virginia ham, and I never could resist that."

With that, Tony and Jennifer enter the house. After closing the door behind them, Quinn leads them to the dining room. Upon seeing his father, Jim is shocked.

Jim: "Dad! What are you doing here!?"

Tony: "It's Christmas an' we're hungry."

Jim: "Well, you're welcome to join us."

Tony looked around and was visibly impressed.

Tony: "You built this house!?"

Jim nods proudly.

Jim: "Well, I had some help from the guys, and even Viktor contributed to the process."

Tony: "Nice, maybe you aren't the useless pansy I always took you for."

Jim: "Nope. Sure hope Uncle Vito likes how this house turned out."

Jim's tone makes it clear that, despite everything, he still regards Uncle Vito as a surrogate father. This visibly angers Tony.

Tony: "You hope my BROTHER likes it!?! WHAT ABOUT WHAT I THINK, YA GODDAMN INGRATE!!"

Jim starts to forget his manners.

Jim: "Dad, I..."

Tony cuts him off.

Tony: "THIS HOUSE IS TOTALLY HALF-ASSED, YA FREAKIN' WASTE O' SPERM!!!"

Tony grabs a spoon off the table.

Tony: "SOMEONE THROWS SOMETHING..."

He throws the spoon at the window hard enough to shatter one of the panes. He then picks up a chair.

Tony: "SOMEONE GETS UP TOO FAST..."

Tony angrily smashes the chair into the wall, leaving a huge dent. Tony then angrily flips the dining room table, scattering the Christmas feast all over the floor. Viktor stands up.

Viktor: "YOU CRAZY, OLD MAN!!!"

Tony: "SHUT UP, YA GODDAMN ILLEGAL!!!"

He then punches Viktor so hard that it knocks him unconscious. Tony then begins his rampage in earnest by running into the kitchen and violently opening the cabinets. He then proceeds to angrily smash plates all over the floor.

Jim: "DAMMIT, DAD, QUIT DESTROYING THE LISENKOS STUFF!!!"

As Tony continues, Quinn approaches Jim.

Quinn (pleading tone): "Jim, if you want your father to stop, then tell him how you feel! Tell him what you told your uncle and what you tell the dog every day!"

Jim proceeds to do just that.

Jim: "DAD!"

He turns Tony around to face him.

Jim: "I HATE YOU, YOU TOXIC MOTHERF@#%ER!!!!"

Tony's rage goes through the roof.

Tony (venomous tone): "How...dare...you!"

Tony reaches into his jacket and whips out his handgun.

Tony: "HOW F*&$ING DARE YOU, YOU WORTHLESS SHIT!!!"

Tony fires a shot into the ceiling.

Tony: "EVERYONE OUT, NOW!!!"

He fires a second warning shot, prompting everyone else to run out the front door in terror. Once everyone else is out, Tony uses a chair to barricade himself inside.

Tony: "I'M GONNA TEAR THIS WHOLE GODDAMN HOUSE DOWN, AN' I'LL F*ING SHOOT ANYONE WHO TRIES TO STOP ME!!!!"

He proceeds to start wrecking the Lisenkos new home.

Cut to outside as both the Carbones and the Lisenkos watch in horror.

Act III
Scene 1
Ext. Shot: Lisenko house, Christmas evening

Rear shot of both the Lisenkos (Viktor, Sasha, Dimitri and Valeria) and the Carbones (Quinn, Jim, the triplets, Jennifer and GJ) looking at the Lisenkos new home. From inside the house come the sounds of various objects being smashed.

Int. Shot: Living room

Tony is angrily smashing family portraits with a hammer. Behind him, we see a knocked down Christmas tree and smashed ornaments.

Tony: "GOD...DAMN...ANTI...AMERICAN...TRAITORS...RAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

He tears down Viktor and Sasha's wedding portrait and throws it on the floor. He then takes a baseball bar and proceeds to smash it.

Ext. Shot: The front lawn

We see both the Carbones and the Lisenkos watch with horrified expressions as Tony continues to destroy the house from the inside out. Quinn turns to her husband.

Quinn: "Jim, why don't you go in there and talk your father down? I mean, he's wrecking another family's house right now!"

Jim defiantly folds his arm.

Jim: "No! I'm done! I'm doing what I should've done years ago and giving up on that psycho! I HATE HIM!!!"

Quinn refuses to believe it.

Quinn: "Jim, you don't really hate your father! You're just venting because he provoked you during dinner!"

Jim: "No, I REALLY hate him, and why shouldn't I? That man's been a menace my whole life. He abused me, he abused Mom and he calls you vile names every chance I get. If Dad had his way, I'd NEVER know happiness! Hell, I'm shocked that he hasn't tried to murder me!"

Cut to Teddy.

Teddy (deadpan): "Yet you love an uncle who tried to frame you for murder nine months ago. That makes sense."

Cut back to Jim.

Jim (angry): "Shut up, Teddy!"

Quinn gets in Jim's face.

Quinn: "HEY, DON'T YOU DARE TAKE IT OUT ON THE KIDS!!!"

Jim: "DAMMIT, QUINN..."

Cut to the triplets while Jim and Quinn try to shout over each other in the background.

Timmy (worried): "Teddy, are Mom and Dad gonna get divorced?"

Teddy: "No, you're just an idiot."

Tommy: "This blows! I'm outta here!"

Tommy starts to walk away. Timmy tries to go after his brother.

Timmy: "TOMMY, WAIT..."

Teddy grabs Timmy by the arm in order to stop him.

Teddy: "Let him go, Timmy. I think he needs some alone time."

Scene 2
Ext. Shot: A residential street, ten minutes later

Tommy was walking down the street with an angry scowl on his face.

Tommy: (thought VO) This totally sucks balls! Grandpop's going on a rampage, Mom and Dad are fighting, Timmy's a pussy and Teddy's a weirdo!

Tommy's angry expression suddenly morphs into a depressing frown. He stops walking and sits down on the curb.

Tommy (thought VO): Why can't my family just be normal? Why can't they all just get along?

He looks like he's about to cry when there's the sound of a car approaching. Cut to Tommy's POV and we see a white limousine approach. Cut back to third person as the limo comes to a stop with the rear window right in front of Tommy. The window rolls down and we see a chubby faced man with snow white hair that anyone around in the 90's would recognize. He speaks to Tommy with a slight southern accent.

Man in limo: "Excuse me, but do ya know where the nearest McDonald's is? Ah'm havin' a Big Mac attack sumthin' fierce."

Tommy looks up but clearly does not recognize this man.

Tommy: "No, sorry."

The man notices the forlorn expression on the boy's face.

Man in limo: "Sumthin' wrong, kid? Ya look kinda down."

Tommy sighs.

Tommy: "My family sucks!"

The man is visibly sympathetic.

Man in limo: "Ah know what that's like. My father ran out on us when ah wuz a baby an' my stepfather wuz an abusive drunk."

Tommy: "My parents are yelling at each other right now while my grandfather's trying to destroy another family's house because Dad told him he hates him."

Man in limo: "A family fightin' on Christmas! Now, that ain't right!"

He opens the door, revealing a rough looking, muscular man in a black suit in the back with him. This scary looking guy is the first man's bodyguard.

Man in limo: "Let's get back there. Maybe ah can git everyone to calm down."

Tommy is visibly hesitant.

Man in limo: "That's right, my presidency wuz before your time!" Extends hand. "Bill Clinton."

Tommy shakes the former President's hand.

Tommy: "Tommy Carbone."

Scene 3
Ext. Shot: Lisenko house, a minute later

The Lisenkos and the Carbones are still out front. By now, Quinn and Jim have stopped yelling at each other and appear to have made up. The white limo pulls up to the curb and comes to a stop. Both Quinn and Jim gasp in shock when Tommy comes out of the back.

Jim: "TOMMY, WHAT THE HELL!?"

Quinn: "YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO TAKE RIDES FROM STRANGERS!"

Tommy smiles proudly.

Tommy: "Mom, Dad, guess who I ran into!"

Former US President Bill Clinton emerges from the limo while his bodyguard emerges from the other side. Cut to a visibly starstruck Quinn and Jim.

Quinn: "Oh...my...God!"

Jim: "President Clinton!"

Bill Clinton smiles.

Clinton: "That's right. You two must be Tommy's parents." He shakes Quinn's hand. "It's an honor, Mrs. Carbone. You an' yer husband raised a fine young man."

Quinn (blushing slightly): "Why...um...Thank you, Mr. President."

Clinton shakes Jim's hand.

Clinton: "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carbone."

Jim (awestruck): "W...Wow! You...You used to be leader of the free world! You presided over the longest period of prosperity in this country's history."

Clinton (faux modesty): "Guilty as charged."

Quinn turns to her sons.

Quinn: "Boys, this is Bill Clinton. He was President when your father and I were your age."

Both Timmy and Teddy take turns shaking the former President's hand with looks of pure disbelief on their faces. Clinton then turns to Jim.

Clinton: "Tommy tells me you an' yer dad are fightin'."

Jim nods.

Jim: "If by fighting, you mean he's destroying someone else's house like a petulant child. I told my father what I really think of him and, big surprise, he responds by going totally berserk."

Clinton: "Yeah, that's a problem. You know, ah once got Yitzak Rabin and Yasser Arafat to make nice, an' they hated each other. Few years later, ah wuz able to get Bosnia an' Serbia to stop fightin'. Gettin' back to th' Mid-East, Israel an' Palestine were refusing to recognize each other's right to exist, but we all know how that turned out."

Teddy (deadpan): "Yeah, they're waging a genocidal war on each other right now."

Clinton: "True, but if ah were still President, ah could easily get 'em to stop th' shootin' for a couple o' years. That's what happened when ah actually did mediate their dispute in the 90's."

Teddy looks thoughtful.

Teddy: "Damn, you are good!"

Clinton: "Thanks." Turns to Jim. "Now, Jim, what's say we go in there to talk things out with yer ol' man."

Jim defiantly folds his arms.

Jim: "I'm not going in there. I hate the man!"

Jim suddenly smiles.

Jim:  "Feels better every time I say it!  It's soul cleansing!"

Clinton frowns.

Int. shot: Lisenkos master bedroom

Tony's about to take a hatchet to the bed when there's a knock on the door.

Tony: "What the hell!?"

He puts down the hatchet, pulls out his gun and goes to the front door.

Tony: "WHO IS IT?"

Clinton (VO, from outside): "IT'S FORMER PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON!"

Tony chambers a round as he doesn't believe Clinton. Upon looking out the peephole, however, his eyes go wide with shock.

Tony (thought VO): Holy shit! It really is the ex-President!

Keeping his gun at the ready, Tony opens the door but stands behind it for cover as the former President enters. Once Clinton's inside, Tony slams the door shut and forcefully turns Clinton around at gunpoint.

Tony: "HANDS AGAINST THE WALL!!!"

Pressing his gun against Clinton with one hand, Tony frisks him with the other.

Clinton: "Is this really necessary?"

Tony feels something under the former President's jacket.

Tony: "What we got here?"

He takes the gun that Clinton had hidden under his jacket and ejects the clip.

Clinton: "My security detail made me carry it! Didn't even think ah should even come in here!"

Tony was surprisingly understanding.

Tony: "Hell, I'd've done the same thing in your position!"

Tony takes the clip out of his own gun.

Tony: "Now, whatchu want?"

Clinton: "Ah wanna resolve this dispute yer havin' with yer son!"

Tony: "I'm not making peace with that goddamn ingrate! I hate him!"

Clinton sighs.

Scene 4
Ext. Shot: Front lawn

Clinton, having just emerged from the house, is talking to Jim while everyone else stands by and listens.

Clinton: "Well, ah wuz able to convince yer dad to give me these."

He pulls out the ammo clips from both his and Tony's guns.

Clinton: "Can anyone hold on to these while Tony holds on to the guns?"

Tommy excitedly steps up.

Tommy: "I will!"

Quinn immediately shuts her son down.

Quinn: "Know you won't, young man!" She turns to Clinton. "I'll hold the clips."

Clinton hands the clips to Quinn, then turns back towards Jim.

Clinton: "Alright. Jim, now that there's no danger of anyone gettin' shot, are ya willin' to come in an' talk things out?"

Jim defiantly folds his arms.

Jim: "Hell, no!"

Clinton lets out another frustrated sigh.

Int. Shot: Lisenkos living room, sometime later

Clinton is pacing back and forth while Tony sits on the couch fondling the empty guns. Close up of Clinton to show his growing frustration with the stubbornness of both Jim and Tony.

Clinton: "Okay, just between you an' me, yuh don't really hate yer son."

Tony: "Yes I do!"

Clinton: "But...

Tony: "Head to toe!"

Clinton: "But..."

Tony: "And his bitch wife!"

Clinton lets out an even more frustrated sigh. He then tries to appeal to Tony's sentimentality.

Clinton: "Okay, but Jim was a baby once an'..."

Tony cuts him off.

Tony: "Everybody hated that baby!"

Clinton is visibly shocked to hear that.

Clinton (outraged): "HATED A BABY!!! MAY GOD, WHUT TH' HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU!?!"

Tony: "He was a pain in the ass from the moment my bitch of an ex-wife spat him outta her used up cunt! He was always crying like a damn sissy...when he wasn't pissing and shitting all over the place!"

Ext. Shot: Front lawn, a short time later

Clinton was venting to Jim.

Clinton: "My God, Jim, you must have the patience of a saint! That man is so infuriating!"

Jim: "Ready to give up? Face it, Mr. President, my father and I hate each other. Always have, always will."

Clinton lets out yet another frustrated sigh.

Clinton (thought VO): Gettin' my bills through a Republican-controlled Congress wuz easier than this shit!

Scene 4
Int. Shot: Lisenkos living room, sometime later

Clinton is still trying to get through to Tony, but it's not going well.

Clinton: "Tony, we're gonna play a little game. It's called Would You Push the Button."

Tony shrugged.

Tony: "Fine!"

Clinton: "Okay, here we go. Let's say there's a button in front of you. You press it, an' Jim will disappear forever. It'd be as if he were never born. Everything else would be th' same, but Jim would never have existed. Would you push that button?"

Tony responds with defiance.

Tony: "Would you? I don' gotta answer that!"

Clinton is insistent.

Clinton: "Yes, ya do. Would you push that button?"

Tony still refuses to answer.

Tony: "None o' your business, ya draft dodger!"

Clinton refuses to back down and starts to crowd Tony.

Clinton: "Would you push that button?"

Tony doubles down on his defiance.

Tony: "Get outta my face, Billy Boy!"

Clinton: "WOULD YOU PUSH THAT BUTTON!?!"

Tony finally relents.

Tony: "Not yet."

Clinton smiled with visible relief.

Clinton (thought VO): 'Bout damn time! I wuz startin' to wonder if this nut would ever crack.

Ext. Shot: Front lawn, a short time later.

Clinton has just told Jim what happened. Jim is visibly stunned.

Jim: "Dad said he wouldn't obliterate me!?! His own words!?"

Clinton nods in the affirmative.

Jim (pleasantly surprised): "How about that? My father doesn't want me dead after all!"

Clinton: "Now, are you willin' to give him another chance?"

Jim nods.

Jim: "Yes! Tell him I wouldn't press the button either."

Clinton smiles, having FINALLY made some progress.

Scene 5
Int. Shot: Living room, a short time later.

Clinton has just told Tony that Jim wouldn't push the button either.

Tony: "Of course he wouldn't. Kid's got no balls!"

Clinton is visibly disappointed. Cut to Tony as he slumps his shoulders and sighs.

Tony: "Aw, who am I kiddin'? I know it's because he doesn't really hate me, just like I don't really hate him. We both just got caught up in the heat of the moment."

Clinton smiles. He then plays his next card.

Clinton: "Ya wanna come out now? Make peace with your son?"

Tony nods and begins to get up from the couch. Suddenly, he changes his mind and sits back down.

Tony: "Waitaminute! How do I know this isn't some kinda trick? How do I know your security detail won't blast me the minute I step out of that door?"

Clinton: "Because I'm gonna let you use me as a human shield."

Tony: "I want one more thing. Gimme that, an' I'll come out an' make peace wit' Jim."

Clinton nodded in agreement.

Clinton: "Name it."

Tony: "Well, Jim and I used to celebrate Christmas by shooting a tree together. Since we didn't get to do that this year, can we shoot up your limo."

Clinton is visibly disappointed.

Clinton: "Yer not shootin' up the limo, Tony. Hell, it's not even my car. It belongs to the Secret Service."

Tony is unwilling to cave.

Tony: "No shooting, no deal!"

Clinton sighs in defeat.

Clinton: "Well, it's reinforced an' the windows are bullet proof." Pause. "Fine, you an' Jim can shoot up th' limo."

Tony grins triumphantly now that he's going to get something out of this.

Scene 6
Ext. Shot: Lisenko house, a short time later.

Clinton emerges from the front door with Tony standing behind him. True to his word, the former President is allowing Tony to use him as a human shield. Clinton looks at his bodyguards.

Clinton: "NOBODY SHOOT! MISTER CARBONE IS UNARMED AND WANTS TO MAKE PEACE!"

Both Clinton and Tony walk over to the rest of the family. Next, Tony and Jim face each other.

Jim: "Dad, I'm sorry I said I hated you. I didn't mean it, I was just angry."

Tony: "I'm sorry I disinvited you from Christmas dinner. I was just pissed that you said you love your uncle more than you love me."

Jim: "I don't. Uncle Vito's my uncle but YOU'RE my father, and that'll never change."

Tony smiles.

Tony: "You'll always be my son, Jim."

They shook hands. Tony then turns to Clinton.

Tony: "Now, about shooting up the limo."

Clinton frowns as he'd been hoping that he wouldn't have to deliver on that promise.

Clinton: "Tony, I'm not sure..."

Jim interrupts.

Jim: "What's going on?"

Tony: "Clinton promised that you an' me could shoot up his limo."

Jim turned to Clinton.

Jim: "That true?"

Clinton sighs.

Clinton: "Yes, but ah only did it to get yer father to come out."

Jim: "Deal's a deal, Mr. President."

Clinton sighs again.

Clinton: "Okay, ya can shoot the limo, but try not to hit the tires."

Tony whips out the empty guns he'd been carrying and hands Clinton's gun to Jim.

Jim: "Quinn, the clips, please?"

With a sigh, the visibly embarrassed Quinn hands one clip to Jim and the other to Tony. Both men proceed to lock and load. Next, Jim aims at the front of the car while Tony aims at the back.

Jim: "Ready."

Tony: "Aim."

Both: "OPEN FIRE!"

They empty both guns on the limo. Cut to Jim and Tony visibly enjoying what they're doing. Cut to the car as bullets go into the doors and side panels. Suddenly, a round goes into the backseat window, shattering it.

Tony (VO, off screen): "Sorry, aim's not what it used to be!"

Cut to a visibly shocked and outraged Clinton.

Clinton: "They told me those windows were bullet proof!"

Cut to Jim and Tony exchanging smiles as the now spent clips eject from the guns.

Tony: "Jim, I love shootin' wit' yas."

Jim: "I love shooting with you too, Dad."

Cut to Quinn as she talks to the triplets.

Quinn: "I don't EVER wanna see you boys do that!"

She then turns to the Lisenkos.

Quinn: "Sorry about all this."

Viktor: "I accepts apology."

Quinn is visibly relieved to hear it.

Quinn: "Well, now that that's all over, let's go inside and finish Christmas dinner."

All four members of the Lisenko family are visibly horrified by that prospect.

Viktor: "Actually, Quinn, I think if best if you all leaves now."

Sasha: "It's not that we don't like you, Quinn, but your family is...what is English word...crazy!"

Before Quinn can protest, we see the Lisenkos frantically run into their house. This is quickly followed by the sound of the door being locked in an uncomfortable hurry.

Ext. Shot: sidewalk, a few minutes later

The Carbones wave as Bill Clinton's limo speeds off into the night. Apparently, the Lisenkos aren't the only ones who've had enough of the Carbones. Cut to Jim and Tony standing next to each other.

Jim: "Awfully nice of Clinton to let me keep his gun."

Tony: "Draft dodger like that don't deserve to have a Glock-9 anyways."

Jim smiles at his father.

Jim: "He's pretty good at settling disputes, but he did drop the ball when it came to Bin Laden."

Tony smiles at Jim.

Tony: "He was always stuffing his face wit' Big Macs."

Jim: "Lied about screwing interns in the Oval Office."

Tony: "Let big tech rip everbody off."

Jim: "Made us economically dependent on Chinese made goods."

Tony: "Let all the good jobs go to Mexico."

Jim: "I love you, Dad."

Tony: "Love you too, son."

Shot of the whole family gathering together. They then break the fourth wall by looking at us and waving.

Entire Family: "MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!"

End Credits.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rejects Daryls advances in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the mall with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids shop with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"A Real American"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I
Thompson House, day...

Jim, Jamie, Chuck and Chris were in Kevin's driveway while Kevin showed off the new license plate on his Dodge Ram. The license plate was plastered in the stars and stripes of the American flag. In addition to the usual features of his truck's license plate (number, state, county) were the following words in patriotic flourish:

A Real American

The other guys were impressed. Jamie was the first to speak.

"Dude, you got one of those new Real American license plates!"

Kevin bragged in response.

"That's right, Jeremy!"

"I'm Jamie," he said for the billionth time.

"I'd get me one of those," said Chris, "but my car's always covered in mud, so no one would ever see it."

"I'd like to get one of those for the Love Machine," added Chuck, "A Real American license plate would be...GRRR, feisty!"

The other guys laughed. Even Kevin got the joke.

"Cool!"

"I know I'm getting one for the Camaro," said Jim, "and with Quinn's birthday coming up, I might as well get one for her Cadillac."

Jamie frowned.

"I can't get one. I looked at the requirements. You have to present proof that you were born in the US."

"Like," said Kevin, "You were born in the US, Jerome."

"Jamie," said an annoyed Jamie, "And I only meet that first requirement. The other is that your vehicle's made by an American manufacturer. Since my motorcycle's a Kawasaki, I don't meet the second requirement."

Jim spoke reassuringly.

"Relax, man. You can ride shotgun in my Camaro after I get mine." Jim paused before giving into the urge to tease. "Just duck whenever a Real American passes."

Everyone but Jamie laughed. After a few seconds, Jamie joined in the laughter.

"Good one, Jim."

Home office, later...

Quinn and Jim were going through all of their old records. Jim saw a document that read at the top:

State of Texas
Certificate of Live Birth

Jim held up the paper and showed it to Quinn.

"Found your birth certificate, Quinn."

Quinn looked at her birth certificate and read it aloud.

"Child's Name: Quinn Louise Morgendorffer. Sex: Female. Date: January 30, 1983. Place of Birth: Highland Texas. Mother: Helen Katherine Morgendorffer, nee Barksdale. Father: Jacob Henry Morgendorffer."

She looked up.

"Yep, that's my birth certificate alright. Any luck finding yours?"

Jim shook his head.

"Nope. You didn't happen to find it in the papers you're going through, did you?

Quinn shook her head.

"No, but somehow your brother's is in here."

Quinn handed Jim Chris's birth certificate. Jim proceeded to read it aloud.

"State of North Carolina Certificate of Live Birth. Child: Christopher Antonio Carbone. Sex: Male. Date: November 5, 1979. Place of Birth: Ft. Bragg Army Base Hospital, Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Mother: Gina Maria Carbone, nee Sorrenti. Father: Anthony Santino Carbone."

Quinn asked, "Why do we have Chris's birth certificate?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Have you seen the sorry state he keeps his house in!? He'd lose that thing under a pile of garbage in a heartbeat. That's why I'm holding onto it for safekeeping."

Jim then turned his attention back to the documents.

"Dammit, my birth certificate's gotta be around here somewhere. I need it for that Real American license plate. Otherwise, Canadians could just come down and get those plates."

A few hours later...

Jim and Quinn have finished their search for his birth certificate and are visibly frustrated.

"I can't freaking believe this," said Jim, "Where the hell is my birth certificate? I need it to prove I was born in the base hospital at Fort Bragg. They're not just gonna take my word that I was born October 10, 1981, in North Carolina."

"I've searched everywhere," said Quinn, "I've found my birth certificate, your brother's, the boys! Why the hell don't we have yours?"

Jim pulled out his cellphone and pressed one of the contacts.

"It's a long shot, but maybe my mother knows where it is."

A rural village in Tuscany, a few seconds later...

Gina was sitting on the patio looking at the stars while sipping some wine from the family vineyard. Suddenly, her niece, Elvira, came out.

"Madrina, telefone!"*

*(Godmother, telephone)

Gina went into the house and entered her living room, where she picked up the phone.

"Ciao?"

"Hey, Mom," said Jim on the other end.

Gina smiled.

"Jim, how are you, bambino mio!?"

"Mom," Jim admitted, "I hate to tell you this, but this isn't a social call."

Gina looked worried.

"Jim, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he reassured his mother, "I'm calling because I was wondering if you have a copy of my birth certificate."

Gina's face lost all color. She stood in horrified silence.

"Mom," said Jim, "Mom, you still there?"

"SI," Gina blurted out nervously.

Jim was puzzled.

"Mom, you okay?"

"Yes," Gina nervously replied, "Um...I don't have it!"

"I figured," said Jim, "What with you living in a foreign country and all."

Gina interrupted.

"I...um....Igottago!"

She frantically hung up.

Meanwhile, in Lawndale...

Jim was visibly puzzled.

"That was weird!"

He then let out a resigned sigh, knowing who he'd have to try next.

Colonial Village Apartments, evening...

Jim was knocking on the door of an apartment. His father, Tony, answered. Tony was holding his nineteen-month-old son, GJ.

"Whaddaya want, Bad Jim?"

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Nice to see you too, Dad."

"Make it fast," Tony barked, "The Jim I actually like is trying to walk, an' I'll be damned if I don't get to record it."

"Dad," said Jim, "when you were moving up here from Virginia did you happen to come across my birth certificate?"

"Your birth certificate," said Tony in annoyance, "Why the hell would I have that!?"

"Well," Jim explained, "I don't have it, and neither does Mom. I figured you must have it, since you are my father."

"Well, I don't," Tony barked, "If I did, I'd have thrown it out when GJ was born to make room for his."

Just then, GJ moved his feet.

"JENNIFER," Tony yelled, "GJ'S TRYING TO WALK AGAIN! GET THE CAMCORDER, WOMAN!"

With that, Tony slammed the door in Jim's face, to the latter's visible annoyance.

Casa Carbone, later...

Jim and Quinn were sitting up in bed, preparing to turn in for the night. Jim let out a frustrated groan.

"I can't believe neither of my parents have my birth certificate"

"I can believe your father not keeping it," said Quinn, "but I'm surprised your mother doesn't have a copy."

"I'm not," said Jim, "When Dad sent her back to Italy after the divorce, she had to pack up fast. I always assumed that she gave it to you."

"Funny," said Quinn, "because I'd always assumed she'd give it to you."

"What I don't get," said Jim, "Is why Mom was being so cagey over the phone when the subject came up. Now that I think about it, Dad was even quicker to slam the door in my face than usual."

Added Quinn, "Now that you mention it, both of your parents are acting like they're hiding something."

"I've got that feeling too," said Jim, "but what? Whatever it is, it has something to do with my birth certificate."

Quinn gasped as one possibility occurred to her.

"What if they're hiding that you're not actually their son!?"

Jim raised an eyebrow.

"No more Lifetime dramas for you."

"I know it sounds like the plot of a lame TV movie," said Quinn, "But what if you're actually adopted and they don't want you to know?"

"There's no way I'm adopted," Jim insisted, "Dad hates adoption."

"Exactly," said Quinn, "Which would explain why he loves GJ, who we know for a fact is his flesh and blood, while your parentage is...questionable."

Jim sat there looking thoughtful. He had to admit that his wife's theory isn't as far-fetched as it seems.

"What if you're right," Jim said with a sigh, "What if I am adopted?"

"Well, Jim," said Quinn, "It would explain both your father's cruelty towards you and why both of your parents are so secretive about your birth certificate."

"How do I even know that Jim's my name," said a rattled Jim, "For all I know, I could really be named something that's easy to make fun of."

Ruttheimer house, the next day...

Chuck and Jim were in the living room. Jim was explaining the situation.

"...and after taking a second to think about it, I realized that Quinn's theory actually makes sense."

"Let me get this straight," said Chuck, "You think that you might be adopted, and your parents are trying to keep you from finding out?"

Jim nodded. "That's why I came here. With your skill at hacking, I imagine it wouldn't take long for you to uncover the truth. Besides, adopted or no, I still need that birth certificate for my Real American license plate."

Chuck stood up.

"Follow me."

The basement, a short time later...

Chuck was seated at one of his computers. Even though he has a home office, he keeps a secondary set of computers that only he can access in the basement. This is mostly so the kids won't see a search history that reveals a LOT of visits to PornHub and OnlyFans.

Jim was pacing behind Chuck while the latter worked his magic.

"Well," said Jim, "If I am adopted, then my real parents could be anybody." He smiled as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, what if my real father is someone I idolized as a kid, like Dale Earnhardt or Eddie Van Halen!?"

Chuck let out a dismissive chuckle.

"Yeah, 'cause famous athletes and musicians are always giving up their kids for adoption."

"Well," said Jim, "Eddie was a rock god during the era of excess. It's possible I could be the product of one of the countless one-night stands he was known to have while on tour."

"Jim," said Chuck, "What if you're the son of someone infamous, like Ted Bundy?"

"Like that's any worse than being the son of Tony Carbone," said Jim with a chuckle.

Chuck got up from his computer.

"Okay, I'm at the last firewall. I need your Social Security number to bypass it."

As Chuck looked away, Jim sat at the computer and entered his social.

"There, done."

Jim got up and Chuck retook his spot by the computer. After a few more seconds and keystrokes...

"Bingo, I'm in!"

Jim was afraid to look as Chuck watched the former's birth certificate appear on the screen.

"Well," said Chuck, "You aren't the son of anyone famous. According to this, your parents are in fact Tony and Gina."

Jim was simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

"Well, at least I can keep loving my mother."

He then took a seat at the computer and read the stats aloud.

"Child: James Giovanni Carbone. Sex: Male. Date of Birth: October 10, 1981. Mother: Gina Maria Carbone, nee Sorrenti. Father: Anthony Santino Carbone."

Chuck interrupted.

"Turns out you're not adopted after all."

It was at this point that something caught Jim's attention.

"What the hell!?"

That something was...

Place of Birth:
Paris, French Republic.

Jim was horrified.

"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He was born in France, not the USA.

Act II
Colonial Park Apartments, evening...

Jim was angrily pounding on the door to his father's apartment. The reason for Jim's anger was his recent discovery of his true origin. Tony opened the door and glared at his son.

"What the hell's gotten inta yas, ya goddamn waste o' sprem!?"

Jim actually shoved his father aside, let himself in and closed the door behind him. Tony was too surprised to react.

"Dad," Jim growled as he pointed an accusing finger at Tony, "I just found out why you and Mom kept my birth certificate from me! Why didn't you tell me, asshole!?"

Tony regained his composure.

"Okay, fine," Tony huffed as he got in Jim's face, "YOU WERE ADOPTED! WORST 200 BUCKS I'D EVER SPENT! Coulda gotten me Chinese twins for fifty!"

Jim immediately clapped back.

"THAT'S NOT THE TRUTH AND YOU KNOW IT! I found my birth certificate online. I was born in Paris, France...FROM YOUR SEED!!"

Tony stepped back and let out a defeated sigh.

"Dammit!"

Jim folded his arms and gave his father a stern look.

Sitting on the couch, Tony proceeded to explain.

"I was always afraid this day would come. Maybe it's my fault for loving your mother...back when she was still hot enough to love."

Paris, France, 1981...

A young Tony, with a visibly pregnant Gina in tow, was walking towards the Louvre.

Your mother had always wanted to take a romantic vacation in Paris. Since I had some leave an' you weren't due for another couple o' weeks, I decided to take her on a romantic two-week trip to the City o' Lights.

Young Tony and Young Gina stared admiringly at the Mona Lisa. After leaving the Louvre, they visited Notre Dame Cathedral.

It was magical. We went to The Louvre, Notre Dame, all of the sights.

The next day, Tony and Gina were taking a river cruise on the Seine. After this, they went to the Eiffel Tower and admired the view. Suddenly, Gina bent over in agony.

We were at the Eiffel Tower when suddenly, your mother's water broke.

Tony and Gina rushed to the elevator and took it back down to ground level. Once on the street, Tony hailed a taxi. He paid the cab driver extra to disregard traffic laws. Finally, they reached a hospital next to the Arc d'Triumph.

We managed to get to this nice hospital right by the Arc d'Triumph in time. Three days later, we took a premature bundle of you back to The States.

A visibly disgruntled Tony was waiting by the hospital entrance. When Gina emerged with the newborn baby Jim, they walked to a cab that was waiting to take them to DeGalle Airport (which was called Orly Airport at that time).

Your mother and I never told you the truth because we didn't think you were man enough to handle it. Since you were born in France...YOU AREN'T!

Gina held the door open for Tony before following him into the cab.

Lawndale, NJ, 2025...

A now eighty-two-year-old Tony has just finished telling a now forty-three-year-old Jim the story. Jim didn't know what to make of all of this.

"Well," said a head-scratching Jim, "Thanks for not leaving me there...I guess."

"Don't thank me, Froggy," Tony growled, "Thank your mother. She insisted. I only went along 'cause I thought raising a bastard French baby was an appropriate punishment for her stupidity."

Jim made no effort to defend his mother as actually hearing the story had drained the fight from him. He just sighed.

"Jim," said Tony, "Don't tell your mother about this. She's never forgiven herself for birthing you outside o' the good ol' US of A. It'd kill her if she knew that you know."

"Um...okay," said Jim. He then looked at his watch. "Um...I gotta go. Later, Dad."

"See ya 'round, son," said Tony as Jim let himself out.

Once the door was closed, Tony walked up and watched Jim leave through the peep hole. Once his son was gone, Tony whipped out his cell and made a call.

"Eric, it's Tony," he said, "Remember that thing we were supposed to do in Paris but never did?" Tony started to laugh as he listened. "No, we did that. We did the hell outta that! I'm talking 'bout...Ortega!" Tony nodded as he listened. "Tha's right, buddy! Get the old team together, it's time we finish the mission!"

Casa Carbone, the next day...

Jim, Kevin, Jamie and Chuck were in Jim's basement man cave watching football and drinking beer.

"Hey, Jim," said Kevin, "They got good beer in France?"

Jim raised an eyebrow.

"How would I know?"

Kevin smirked.

"Oh, that's right! You Frenchies prefer wine!"

Added Jamie, "So, Jim the American badass is actually a froggy! How 'bout that!"

Both Jamie and Kevin erupted in laughter while Jim angrily glared at Chuck.

"Dammit, Chuck," Jim growled, "YOU TOLD THEM!!"

"I had to tell someone," said Chuck.

"Aw, don't be so sensitive," said Jamie in a condescending tone.

Kevin mockingly said, "Dude, you Frenchies really are...um...uhh...what's that word for a man who acts like a woman...homo?"

"Effeminate," said Chuck.

Added Jamie, "Wouldn't be surprised if Jim is a homo. After all, he's French!"

Jim scowled as his friends all laughed.

"Dude," Kevin teased, "Like, what's that smell?"

"Jim," said Jamie, "He's French."

"Yeah," said Kevin, "He doesn't bathe!"

The laughter continued as Jim angrily stared daggers at the assholes he calls his friends.

The next day...

Jim was walking towards his Camaro to run some errands. Suddenly, something caught his eye.

"What the hell!?"

Someone had pasted a "VIVE LA FRANCE" bumper sticker on his Camaro.

"DAMMIT, GUYS!!"

The road, sometime later...

Jim was driving when a large, American made pickup truck came up on his bumper and angrily honked at him. The truck even bumped Jim for good measure before pulling up beside him at a traffic light. While waiting for the light to change, the driver of the truck motioned for Jim to lower his window. Jim sighed as he lowered his window.

"Whaddaya want?"

"I want you to go back to your own country, frog boy," said the driver as he gave Jim the middle finger.

Before Jim could retort, the light turned green, and the truck sped off. Jim let out a defeated sigh.

Casa Carbone, later...

Jim was talking to Quinn about what's going on.

"I can't even drive like an American anymore," said a forlorn Jim, "I think a muscle car might be too much for a French man to handle."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Aren't you overreacting," she said, "So you were born in France, big deal."

"You wouldn't say that if everyone used it as an excuse to harass you," said Jim, "They all think I'm some effeminate snob who won't stand up for himself just because I was born in France."

"Jim," said Quinn, "It's actually cool that it turns out you're really French. I mean, you should've seen the jealous look on Sandi's face when I told her I'm doing a French guy."

Jim visibly did not appreciate his wife's lame attempt to cheer him up. Before he could say anything, however, the triplets came in.

"Dad," said Tommy, "There's a rumor at school that you're actually French. It true?"

Jim sighed.

"Yes, boys, I'm afraid it is."

"Awesome," said Tommy, "Not only am I the QB, but I've got a French dad. I'm gonna get more hotties than I know what to do with!"

"Funny," Teddy deadpanned, "I could've sworn every girl in school was already throwing herself at you."

"I can't believe it," said an excited Timmy, "I knew my love of culture and fine arts came from somewhere! Dad, what was it like being a kid in Paris?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Timmy, I was three days old when we left."

"You ever go back," asked Tommy.

"As a matter of fact," said Quinn, "Your father and I went to Paris once. That's actually where he bought the ring he used when he proposed."

Added Jim, "Your mother was working for Grandpa Jake's consulting business at that time and the trip was a gift from a grateful client." He then frowned. "I didn't know I was actually from there when I went. I only know France from the perspective of a tourist, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Come on, Dad," said Timmy, "I've always wanted to try being a French artist!"

That angered Jim.

"THAT'S IT!!!"

He angrily went to his desk, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.

Casa Sorrenti, Tuscany...

Gina was in the kitchen stirring pasta for dinner when the phone rang. She answered.

"Ciao?"

"Mom," Jim practically growled over the phone, "We need to talk!"

Gina was puzzled by the clear hostility in her son's voice.

"About?"

Jim explained. "I just found out that I was actually born in Paris, and I am NOT happy about it!"

Gina sighed. "I'm sorry, bambino mio! I never told you because I know how much being American means to you."

Jim wasn't having it. "Spare me! Dad gave me the whole story! I was born in Paris because you just had to have a romantic getaway and didn't care that you were nine months pregnant!!"

Gina was outraged.

"WHAT!?! TONY'S TRYING TO BLAME THIS ON ME!!! Going to Paris was HIS idea!"

Meanwhile, in Lawndale...

Jim gasped in shock at his mother's revelation.

"WHAT!?!"

Over the phone, Gina said, "We were there because your father and one of his Delta Force teammates actually dragged me on a mission!"

Jim gasped in shock. Then, he spoke.

"Well, then," said an irate Jim, "One of you is lying and..." The look on Quinn and the boy's faces made Jim immediately backpedal. "Who am I kidding? I know it's him."

Gina proceeded to tell the real story.

Paris, France, 1981...

Young Tony, Gina and a blonde man in Aviator sunglasses were walking towards the Parisian Oprea house.

At that time, Nicaragua was under the control of the Sandinistas, who were pro-Soviet. France's President at the time, Francois Mitterrand, was a socialist who wanted to cultivate better relations with the Communist Block. To that end, he'd invited the Sandinista leader, Daniel Ortega, to France on an unofficial state visit. In furtherance of President Reagan's militantly anti-Soviet policies Delta Force was given a covert mission to assassinate Ortega during the trip. It was the first time the US government had ordered the assassination of a political leader since the Vietnam War. Your father's team was given the assignment. So, he dragged me along with him and one of his teammates, Eric Price.

As they walked towards the entrance, Gina gave her husband the stink eye.

"Dammit, Tony, I can't believe you're making me do this!"

"Look," said Tony, "Two American men traveling alone would be suspected of the deed and we need to kill the enemy in a way that doesn't lead back."

Added Eric, "No one's gonna suspect a vacationing family. That's why you're here."

"Now, come on," said Tony as he yanked Gina by the arm, "And don't blow our cover, just keep looking knocked up."

Gina sighed.

Inside, a short time later...

Tony, Eric and Gina were making their way to a staircase that led up to the second floor, where the private boxes are.

"Okay," said Tony, "Remember the plan?"

Gina sighed. "I fake contractions so security will let us pass through."

"Bingo," said Tony, "Once that's done, we find an empty booth. Then, I scout for the booth where President Mitterrand and that commie son-of-a-whore Ortega are seated. Once I have eyes on..."

Eric continued. "I assemble the sniper rifle we hid in Gina's shoulder bag. After that, Tony, I wait for your go."

Tony nodded. "Once we take Ortega out, we make a break for the ladies room. Gina, remember what to do next?"

Gina nodded. "When the security guards come in, I pretend to be in labor pains while you and your 'brother' pretend to be freaking out."

"Exactly," said Tony, "This way, instead of detaining us, they'll take us to the hospital. By the time the froggies figure out what's going on, we're already on a plane back home."

One of the private boxes, a short time later...

Gina was watching the opera while Tony scanned the other boxes with binoculars and Erica attached a silencer to his custom sniper rifle. Finally, Tony saw Mitterrand and Ortega in a box across the auditorium enjoying the show.

"Prepare to die, commie," Tony muttered under his breath.

Eric raised the rifle and looked down the scope. Soon, he had Ortega in his crosshairs.

"I have a clear shot at Ortega's head."

"Take the shot," said Tony.

Eric began to squeeze the trigger. Suddenly...

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Gina yelled in pain as her water broke. Fortunately, the sound to the tenor singing on stage drowned out the agonized cry. Unfortunately, it startled Eric. Because of this, instead of hitting it's intended target, the bullet ricocheted off the ceiling and wound up killing the opera singer on stage.

"SHIT," Eric shouted, "WE'RE COMPROMISED!!"

"MOVE IT," Tony barked as they rushed Gina towards the door.

The hallway, later...

President Mitterrand's security detail, accompanied by some of Comrade Ortega's men, were searching for the would-be assassin. A team of security guards passed by the ladies' restroom. They were too far away by the time a baby's cries could be heard coming from inside said restroom.

Casa Carbone, 2025...

Jim continued to listen to his mother tell the story over the phone.

"oh...my...GOD," said a horrified Jim, "I WAS BORN IN A FRENCH TOILET STALL!!!"

"Yes," said Gina in a voice that oozed shame and regret. "Your father was right about one thing, though," she continued, "Because I was with them and had a newborn baby in my arms, no one in the security detail suspected that your father and Eric were the would-be assassins. In fact, Mitterrand found my cover story so touching that I received post-natal care from his personal physician."

Jim stood there in stunned silence. Not only was he born on foreign soil in a public restroom, but it was under circumstances that made him an unwitting accessory to a US-government sanctioned assassination attempt. It was a lot to take in.

Lawndale VFW, evening...

Tony was in a back room meeting with the other members of his old Delta Force assault team. They were seated at a round table looking at maps and building schematics. Going clockwise around the table from Tony was Eric Price, now a balding and skinny eighty-year-old with a hunched posture. The next man at the table was Wayne Morgan, a frail seventy-five-year-old with think rimmed glasses. The next man seated at the table was Bud Johnson, an overweight seventy-four-year-old with a bad combover. The last man at the table was Butch Smith, a seventy-seven-year-old black man who had a portable oxygen tank with him due to the COPD incurred by six decades of chain-smoking filter less Camel cigarettes. One could clearly tell that these guys are no longer the badass commandos that they were in the eighties. Tony, of course, was too stubborn to admit that none of them (himself included) have what it takes anymore.

"Damn, it's good to have the old team back together again," said Tony, "'Cept for Gene, who just had to go and have that fatal heart attack five years ago."

"To Gene," said Eric as he raised his beer can. The other guys joined him in a toast.

"ANY TIME, ANY PLACE, ANY WAY!!!"*

*(Delta Force's unofficial motto.)

Tony then got down to business.

"Alright, boys. Operation Second Chance is about to commence! We failed to get Daniel Ortega back in '81. Now, we're gonna go to Nicaragua an' finish the job."

"Man," said Eric, "I can't wait to kill that commie son-of-a-bitch!"

Tony egged Eric on.

"KILL, ERIC, KILL!!!"

"HOORAH!!!"

"Now," Tony continued as he pointed to a map of Nicaragua, "One of the Contras we trained back in the eighties, Manuel Sanchez, has gotten us schematics of the mansion." Tony pointed to the schematics before continuing. "We can use these positions of Ortega's home for penetration and exfil. Manuel has also gotten me a breakdown of Ortega's daily routine and can help us get to the place without drawing attention." Tony then pointed to map of the Hampton Roads metropolitan area in southeastern Virginia. "Saturday night, we rendezvous with Manuel in Yorktown, in front of the visitor's center at Yorktown Battlefield. From there, we go to the Yorktown waterfront, where the National Park Service keeps two boats docked. One's a replica of one of the ships used in 1781 to blockade Chesapeake Bay. The other's a modern passenger craft that operates daily river cruises for tourists. That second one's seaworthy and Manuel's an experienced boat operator. We'll steal the tour boat and sail down to Nicaragua. Once we arrive, Manuel will lead us to Ortega's compound and furnish us with fake passports and documents."

"Soun.." Butch suddenly hacked and coughed. "Gi...choke...Gimmie a minute." Butch then placed his small oxygen tank and mask over his face.

"What I think Butch was trying to say," said Wayne, "Is that you seem to have this all in order."

Bud then asked a question. "We goin' to Virginia in your truck?"

"Hell no," said Tony, "We can't use our own vehicles, an' I still haven't figured out how to keep the authorities off our back long enough to steal the boat. Also, when the former President of Nicaragua gets killed in his own home it's gonna make the news. We need a patsy to cover our tracks."

Before they could brainstorm any further, there was a knock on the door.

"HIDE THE EVIDENCE," Tony ordered.

They all stashed the battle plans under the table, from where they got out playing cards and poker chips. They placed the cards and chips on the table, creating the illusion that they were playing poker rather than plotting an act of terrorism. Tony then made his way to the door and peaked out the hole.

"Damn," he growled, "It's my son. The one who made us fail our mission by being born, the little shit."

Tony unlocked and opened the door. Without preamble, Jim got right in his father's face.

"Dammit, Dad," Jim barked, "Mom told me everything. Paris, the French Oprea, trying to kill the then-President of Nicaragua!"

"So," said Tony in a defiant tone, "The bitch squealed, did she? Well, that's what insubordinate bitches do!"

Jim was NOT having it. "SHUT UP!! It's your fault I'm not an American by birth! It's your fault I can't drive my Camaro anymore! IT'S YOUR FAULT EVERYONE EXPECTS ME TO BE A STUCK-UP WEAKLING WHO DOESN'T BATHE!!!!"

Tony was about to lay into Jim when he suddenly got an idea. He immediately changed his expression to the most convincing sad face, shedding a crocodile tear for good measure.

"D...Dammit, Jim, you think you're the o...sniff...only one who has a hard time dealing with this!?"

Jim was stunned.

"D...Dad!?"

Tony continued his regretful father act.

"My biggest regret," said Tony in a sad tone, "Is that you, my younger son, were born outside the good old US of A! If I could just shove you back in your mother and have you born again on US soil, I would!!" He then put a hand on Jim's shoulder and spoke in a tone so convincing that even Daria would've bought it. "Jim, I'm so sorry."

Jim was so moved by the seeming sincerity that it didn't even occur to him that his father was faking.

"You...You're apologizing!?"

Tony nodded and gave Jim the most convincing puppy dog eyes.

"I...Dad, I never knew," said Jim, "I...I never even suspected that this has been eating you up all these years."

Tony then extended the fake olive branch.

"Jim, lemme make it up to yas. You doin' anything this weekend?"

Jim shook his head. "No."

Tony made his pitch.

"Whaddaya say we take you down to Virginia this weekend? Jamestown, Colonial Williamsburg, Yorktown. Expose you to this country's roots in a way that'll make you obsessed with the ideals of the American Revolution. We'll even go down in a Ford Super Duty truck. Make a real American outta you."

Jim bought this hook, line and sinker.

"You're on, Dad! I am so in!"

Tony then sealed the deal by pulling Jim into a loving embrace.

"Great, son! Pick you up Friday afternoon?"

"It's a date, Dad," said Jim as he returned the hug. After a few seconds, father and son released each other.

"Anyway," said Jim, "I'll let you guys get back to your card game. See you Friday, Dad!"

They exchanged waves as Jim made his way to the door. Once he was gone, Tony walked up to the door and locked it. Once that was done, Tony faced his friends with an evil smirk on his face.

"Boys, we've got our patsy!"

Act III
Carter County Gun Club, Friday morning...

Music:  Hulk Hogan's old theme

I am a Real American

Fight for the rights of every man

I am a Real American

Fight for what's right

FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE

Jim was with Tony, Eric, Wayne, Bud and Butch at the shooting range. Jim squeezed off a few rounds from his Beretta handgun. He then pulled up the target. The shots were grouped in two places, the center of the silhouettes head and the center of the chest. Tony, rather than get jealous and challenge Jim to a shoot off, smiled proudly.

"Damn proud of ya, son," said Tony.

"Thanks, Dad," said Jim, "You were right, a morning at the shooting range is a great way to start off my Americanization!"

"You really wanna be Born American," said Tony, "Use this!"

Jim gasped in shock as Tony offered his own handgun to Jim, a Colt 1911 combat pistol from his Army days. This gun actually had some custom modifications that made increased the gun's stopping power and a custom safety that made accidental discharge impossible. These modifications were done during Tony's time in Delta Force. This was possible because the headquarters of every Tier 1 Special Forces unit (Delta, Seal Team 6, etc. ) includes an armory that specializes in customizing weapons for special operations.

"You...you want me to shoot your gun," said a stunned Jim.

"Well," said Tony, "We're tryin' to make a real American outta ya, aren't we. Why not fire off a gun made in America?"*

*(Berettas are Italian. Actually, it's interesting that after the mid-1980's the military replaced the Colt 1911 with the Beretta 92 as it's standard sidearm, and recently replaced the Beretta with the Swiss made Sig-Sauer.)

Jim accepted Tony's gun with a smile. While he was busy aiming the weapon down range, Tony took a pencil out of his pocket. With quick slide of hand, Tony slid Jim's Beretta into a plastic bag being held by Bud, who promptly took it away. By the time Jim was done shooting, he noticed that his Beretta wasn't on the counter where he'd left it.

"Where's my gun?"

"This place has a shop that deep cleans guns," Tony lied, "An' I even rented storage lockers sos we can leave 'em here instead of stopping back home before heading down to Virginia."

Jim was so happy to be bonding with his father that he didn't suspect anything (like his own father setting him up to take the fall for an act of international terrorism).

Williamsburg, VA, Saturday morning...

Jim, Tony, Eric, Butch, Bud and Wayne stood in front of the Wren Building on the Campus of William and Mary. Jim stared in awe.

"This is Thomas Jefferson's alma mater," said the awestruck Jim.

"Tha's right, Jim," said Tony.

Later...

The guys were now walking down Duke of Gloucester Street in the heart of Colonial Williamsburg.

"Sorry you can't see any reenactments, Jim," said Eric.

"That's okay," said Jim, "It's January. Besides, we can still take guided tours and visit buildings."

"Speaking of which," said Tony as he pointed, "There's the old Inn."

Inside the Old Inn, a short time later...

Jim smiled as the guys took his picture in front of one of the rooms. A plaque above the door read "George Washington Slept Here".

Palace Green, later...

The guys approached the old Governor's Palace.

"Let's take the tour," said Tony, "On me."

Jim whipped out his debit card. "No, on me. After all, it's the least I can do."

As Jim went to the ticket booth, Tony and his team poke amongst themselves.

"Tony, you sure 'bout this," asked Butch.

"'Course I'm sure," said Tony, "We keep buttering him up 'til it's time to make our move so's he won't suspect a thing."

At this point, Jim returned with the tickets. He hadn't heard his father and the other guys talking about their little scheme and thus remains blissfully unaware that they're planning to frame him for terrorism.

"Got the tickets, Dad," said Jim.

"Let's roll," said Tony as they made their way to the Palace.

Yorktown Battlefield, later...

The guys were walking among the recreated trenches from the 1781 Siege of Yorktown. Jim was amazed.

"This is where it happened," said Jim, "This is where we finally won our independence from Britain!"

Thomas Moore House, Yorktown, later...

The guys approached the two-story colonial farmhouse.

"This is where the Terms of Surrender were negotiated," said Jim.

Yorktown Victory Monument, later still...

The guys all stared in reverence at a tall white stone column with a small statue of Lady Liberty on top with her arms stretched out. At the base of the monument was a large plaque. Jim read the plaque aloud.

"This monument is a shrine to the triumph of Liberty over despotism, achieved here on October 19th, 1781, when America secured her independence by bringing what was then the mightiest army in the world to its knees."

Williamsburg, evening...

The guys were now having dinner at a barbecue joint.

"I forgot how good this is," said Jim as he ate smoked ribs.

"Spoken like a real American," said Tony, "and we're only halfway done wit' yer initiation. Tomorrow, we're gonna visit Jamestown an' then hit up some o' the places in Yorktown an' Williamsburg that we didn't get around to today."

"Yeah," said Jim, "I really wanna check out that new Revolutionary War Museum in Yorktown."

The other guys exchanged subtle grins because if everything went according to plan, Jim would actually be in a jail cell by then.

Route 60, later...

Jim was driving everyone back to the hotel in the Super Duty they'd rented. As he kept his eyes on the road Tony and Eric exchanged nods. It was time.

"Hey, Jim," said Eric, "I hate to do this to ya, but I gotta take a leak and don't think I can hold it 'til we reach the hotel."

"Okay," said Jim as he pulled the truck to the side of the road and brought it to a stop.

As Eric stepped out to do his business, Tony spoke.

"Hey, Jim, close your eyes. I wanna give you a Real American surprise!"

"Okay," said Jim as he closed his eyes in anticipation.

Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out a small syringe. He then took the safety cap off the needle.

"SURPRISE," shouted Tony as he plunged the syringe into the base of Jim's neck and rapidly pumped it's contents into Jim's bloodstream.

"DAD," exclaimed Jim, "W..what..the...hellllll...." Jim promptly passed out.

"Alright, boys," said Tony, "We got three, maybe four, hours til that tranq wears off! Let's roll!"

Three hours later...

Jim's eyes opened as he regained consciousness. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a large hallway with Roman columns and portraits of Revolutionary War heroes such as Geroge Washington, Henry Knox and John Paul Jones along with display cases of weapons from that time period and mannequins dressed in military uniforms from the era. Next, Jim saw Tony, Eric, Wayne, Bud and Butch standing in front of him. All five men were wearing surgical gloves so as not to leave fingerprints on anything they touch. Jim then noticed to his horror that he was handcuffed to one of the statues and completely naked.

"WHAT THE HELL!?!"

Jim then noticed that he'd been drenched in some kind of liquid as well. He sniffed the liquid.

"Is that...rum!?"

"So's no one will believe you when you tell them," said Tony.

"Tell them what," said Jim, "Where are we? Why am I drenched in rum and chained to a statue!? Where are my clothes!?! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?"

Tony let out a chuckle.

"Damn, kid, for a know-it-all who went to Bromwell on a full ride scholarship, you sure are stupid!"

Tony briefly laughed at his own joke before continuing.

"You thought I was trying to make it up to you that you aren't really an American, Frenchie!? What a fuckin' joke! No, I just wanted to butter you up until the moment was right. After I injected you wit' animal tranquilizer we drove you here to the Revolutionary War Museum. Since Wayne's wife works the information desk, he knows the security codes that disable the alarms and where the hard drive that keeps the surveillence footage is."

At this point, Bud whipped out the clear palstic bag with Jim's handgun in it. "Recognize this?"

"My gun," said a shocked Jim.

"That's right," said Tony, "We shot out the hard drive with it, an' we're wearin' gloves so's the only prints the cops find are gonna be yours, Jim."

"You did all this just to frame me," exclaimed an outraged Jim.

"You aren't gonna fry, Jim," said Tony, "No one's gonna believe a French cunt like you had the balls to kill Daniel Ortega. We're just coverin' our tracks!"

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Dad, you can't kill Deniel Ortega. For chrissake, you aren't even supposed to drive at night anymore!"

"That's what you think, Frenchie," Tony barked, "You're gonna make up for fuckin' up the mission by being born! Cops are gonna be too busy wit' you to stop us from stealin' a tour boat an' sailin' to Nicaragua to take Ortega out. We're gonna leave your clothes an' the rum bottles at th' dock as insurance! Granted, you're gonna go down for public intoxication, indecent exposure, breakin' an' entering and theft of government property while we finish our mission! Let's roll, boys!"

Outside, a minute later...

"There," said Wayne, "Alarm's reset."

"Bud," said Tony, "Get the door!"

"Roger that."

Bud then shot out the glass door with Jim's Beretta, which set off every alarm in the place.

"Let's move," Tony barked as they raced to the truck, leaving Jim's gun behind.

Inside the museum, Jim let out a defeated sigh.

"Forty-three-years-old and I never saw it coming."

Jim then turned his attention to the alarms.

"I gotta get outta here and get into some clothes before the cops arrive."

With his free hand, Jim took a button off the coat of the manniqun he was handcuffed to. Using the button's pin, he picked the lock. Fortunately, in their haste Tony's team had used cheap handcuffs from a sex shop so it only took Jim a few seconds to pick the lock.

"There, now to find some clothes and get outta here!"

As Jim made his way deeper into the museum, something caught his attention. He stopped and saw a row of flags with a plaque at the end of the room. Jim read the plaque.

"These are the flags of all nations involved in the battle of Yorktown. In addition to the American's and the British, American forces were augmented by French forces commanded by General Rochambeau while the French naval blockade of Chesapeake Bay prevented British escape. In addition, George Washington's second in command was the Marquis de Lafayette. They may have been French, but on they day, they became American heros."

Jim suddenly had an epiphany. He may have been born in Paris, but that didn't make him any less of an American. He was snapped back to reality by the sound of police sirens in the distance.

"I gotta get going and stop Dad!"

A few minutes later...

Jim snuck out the back door of the museum in the uniform of an American soldier of the Revolutionary War, just in time to evade detection and arrest.

Yorktown Waterfront, a short time later...

In modern times, Yorktown's waterfront consists of a public beach flanked by a fishing pier at one end and a public boat dock at the other. The old Delta assault team was assembled by a docked double-decked sightseeing boat. Tony looked at his watch and scowled.

"Dammit, where the hell is Manuel? Cops are probably forcing Jim into the back of the car by now!"

Suddenly, a Latin-American man in his seventies emerged from the shadows.

"'Bout damn time, Manuel," said Eric.

"Sorry, man," said Manuel in an accented voice, "Got lost."

"How the hell'd that happen," asked Wayne, "You've lived in the area since 1987."

"Been kinda forgetful lately," Manuel admitted, "Doctor thinks I might be in the early stages of Alzheimers."

"You can at least remember how to get to Ortega and drive a boat, right," said Tony.

Manuel nodded. "Si."

"Well," said Tony, "Then let's go!"

The men then walked up the gang way onto the boat.

"Alright," said Tony, "Manuel, you head up to the control room. We leave now, then..."

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, ASSHOLES!"

The guys looked and saw Jim running up the gangway towards them. He immediately shoved the other men aside before getting in Tony's face.

"Dammit, Dad," Jim barked, "I may be your son, there's nothing I can do about that, but I am NOT gonna be your patsy!"

"Then I guess you're..." Tony threw a punch. "...SUCKERPUNCHED!"

The punch caused Jim to stagger back against the guardrail. He then lost his footing and fell into the water. Since it was nighttime in January, the temperature outside was below freezing, which sent Jim into a brief shock as soon as he hit the water.

"Now that he's outta the way," said Tony, "Let's cast off! Now, once we're out in open ocean, we go straight east about ten miles. Once we're in international waters, we can turn south and head straight to Nicaragua, stopping in the Caribbean to resupply!"

Wayne looked down at the water. "Um, Tony," he said with concern in his voice, "Your son should've come up by now. Even Navy Seals can't hold their breath that long."

Tony groaned in frustration.

"Okay, fine. Bud, get him!"

"Roger that," said Bud as he aimed his AR-15 and fired into the water.

Tony angrily snatched the assault rifle from Bud.

"I MEANT JUMP IN AND SAVE HIM, YA IDIOT, NOT SHOOT HIM!"

"Sorry," said Bud as he approached the guardrail.

"NOT SO FAST" shouted Jim from right behind him.

Everyone gasped in shock as a sopping wet Jim stood there.

"You know," said Jim, "You guys really are slipping. If you'd just looked to the left, you would've seen me climbing up the side of the boat."

"But," said a stunned Wayne, "You were in shock!"

"Only for a second," explained Jim, "Then, I quickly swam up to the boat and climbed up." Jim then got back on topic. "Now, the game's over! Let's get outta here!"

"No," Tony barked defiantly, "WE'RE GOIN' TO NICARAGUA!!"

"You know, Tony," said Wayne, "My eyesight's not what it used to be. I mean, in the old days, I woulda seen Jim swimming up to the boat.  Also, it's been years since I could hit a target at more than ten feet away. Maybe you all better continue without me."

"WHAT," shouted Tony in outrage.

"Now that I think about it," said Bud, "I probably shouldn't miss my doctor's appointment on Monday. I need those injections."

"INJECTIONS," said an incredulous Tony.

"I got adult-onset diabetes," Bud admitted, "I miss too many injections, and the doctors might have to amputate my right foot."

Added Butch, "You know, that humid jungle air's gonna play havoc on my emphazema. Maybe I should stay behind too."

Added Eric, "An' I can't hold a rifle steady anymore. Damn arthritis!"

"FINE," Tony yelled, "I'LL DO THE WHOLE DAMN THING MYSELF. LET'S GO, MANUEL!"

"I don't think I should," said Manuel, "I'm not entirely sure I can remember the way to Ortega's compound."

"But...but...," Tony sat down and sighed in defeat. "Awww, I just wanted to kill Ortega!"

Jim, despite everything, was sympathetic due to the fact that these former commandos really are now just sick old men trying to relive their glory days. He put a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"It's okay, Dad," said Jim, "You lost this battle, but we still won the Cold War."

The dock, a short time later...

The guys were all being escorted by their less-than-thrilled family members into cars. Jim felt too sorry for them to turn them in, so instead he called the police to report his gun as stolen, creating a solid alibi for why it was used in a vandalism incident. He then called the family members to come pick the guys up and take them home.

"Thanks for calling, Jim," said Eric's daughter, "I've been worried sick since Dad took off."

At this point, Quinn's car arrived. Quinn stepped out and approached. Jim was surprised to see his wife.

"Quinn, what are you doing here!?"

Quinn explained. "When you told me your father and his buddies were taking you to Virginia for the weekend I got suspicious, so I decided to drive down myself and make sure you're okay."

Jim hugged his wife.

"I'm fine, Quinn, but I've had a pretty rough night. I'll tell you all about it on the way."

"HEY," Tony barked, "WHAT ABOUT ME!?"

"Jennifer will be here in a few hours," said Jim, "In the meantime, I suggest you stay out of trouble, because you just used your LAST get out of jail free card."

Tony folded his arms and huffed. "Goddammit!"

The road, a short time later...

Quinn was driving Jim back to the hotel in her Cadillac. He's just finished telling her what all happened.

So," said Quinn, "He tried to frame you and you had to stop him from doing something even more stupid."

Jim nodded. "That's pretty much it."

"Well," said Quinn, "I'm a little disappointed that you didn't hand Tony over to the cops, but I'm impressed with all the other ways you handled the situation."

"Yeah," said Jim, "Thanks." After a brief pause, Jim explained the epiphany he'd had while escaping from the museum. "You know, a lot of French men fought on the American side during the Revolutionary War. It's occurs to me that I'm still an American. I fought for what's right. In fact, the plaque in the museum said that while they were Frenchmen, that day they were Americans, and I'm one too."

"That's right," said Quinn, "You ARE a Real American."

"No," said Jim, "I'm not a real American, I'm just an American."

"Exactly," said Quinn, "Just like your mother and father."

"Um," said Jim, "My mother was born and raised in Italy."

"Still," said Quinn, "She did live in this country for thirty-five years."

"Okay," said Jim in an insincere tone, "Everyone's an American. Change planes in Atlanta, you're an American."

End chapter. (Relax, they get more original after this. I just needed some filler.)

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now twelve-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rejects Daryls advances in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the mall with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids shop with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Teddy the Time Bomb"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I
Glenfield Middle School, day...

Quinn and Jim's son, Teddy, is walking towards his locker at school. Upon reaching said locker, he sighs. Someone had written "I EAT COCK" in permanent marker on Teddy's locker...again. As he began to turn the lock...

"Hey, homo!"

Shane Sloane (Tom and Sandi's son) approached. As usual, Shane was accompanied by his two muscle-bound lackeys Al and Lou. They crowded Teddy.

"So," Shane taunted, "You gonna blow a guy in the bathroom before first period?"

"No," said Teddy, "Are you?"

Lou punched Teddy in the stomach.

"That's for implying Shane's a homo," Al barked.

Teddy's eyes narrowed as he looked at Shane.

"Well, at least you didn't misspell cock this time."

This got him a second punch in the gut, this time from Al.

"That's for calling the boss dumb," said Lou.

"Hey, freak," Shane taunted at Teddy, "Say hi to your boyfriend for me. By the way, how's it feel when you're the bottom?"

Shane and his goons walked away laughing while Teddy stared daggers at them.

A classroom, later...

Teddy was in language arts. The teacher, a scrawny, balding man with thick glasses, was discussing the assignment. His name was Mr. Melvin.

"I have exciting news, class," said Melvin in a voice that sounds like a cross between Mr. O'Neil and Artie, "This week, we're going to take what we've learned about the creative writing process and put it into practice. I want each of you to write a short story to then read aloud to the rest of the class. Isn't that exciting?"

Teddy couldn't resist. "I wasn't aware school and excitement went together."

Sitting next to Teddy was Rachel White (Jamie and Nicole's daughter, who's basically the Jane to Teddy's Daria). She stifled a giggle.

"Nice one, Teddy."

It was at this point that one of the other kids in class, Kevin Junior, raised his hand.

"Mr. Melvin."

"Yes, Junior."

Kevin Junior asked, "What's a short story?"

Mr. Melvin frowned at the question.

"You know," Rachel said to Teddy, "It's ironic that he's as dumb as Mr. Thompson given who Junior's real father is."*

"I guess stupidity is environmental instead of genetic," Teddy quipped in turn.*

*(For those presumably few who don't know, Kevin Jr. is actually the product of Brittany's fifteen-year-long extramarital affair with Daryl, but both Kevin and Kevin Jr. remain blissfully unaware of this fact.)

Hallway, after class...

Teddy and Rachel were walking and talking.

"So," said Rachel, "What do you think of this writing assignment?"

"Well," said Teddy, "It's nice to actually have a school assignment that isn't a pointless waste of time. Now I just have to come up with a story idea."

"Well," Rachel quipped, "That should take all of five minutes."

They exchanged smirks until...

"Well, well, well..."

They instantly recognized Shane's voice. Teddy and Rachel turned around to see Shane Sloane approach, accompanied by Al and Lou.

"...the four-eyed homo and his beard. Hey, Rachel, what's it like to hang out with a faggot?"

"Hey, Shane," Rachel clapped back, "What's it like to have nothing better to do than harass us with homophobic slurs."

Al punched her in the gut.

"That's for backtalking Shane," Lou barked.

"Well," Shane taunted, "I guess the beard's feeling protective of her homo boyfriend."

"One," Teddy pointed out, "I'm not gay. Two, Rachel and I are just friends. Three, it's really pathetic that you're so insecure that you have to build yourself up by tearing the rest of us down."

Lou punched Teddy in the gut.

"That's for calling out Shane," Al barked.

Teddy and Rachel stared daggers as the three bullies walked away laughing.

"I wish I was a spoiled trust fund baby," said Rachel, "Then I could be a total jerk who never faces consequences and have a pair of muscleheads rough up anyone who calls me on my crap."

"If only," said Teddy, "Being bullied by Shane I can handle. What I can't handle is knowing he's never gonna suffer consequences once in his life just because his last name's Sloane."

Suddenly, Teddy's eyes lit up.

"I just got an idea for a story!"

Casa Carbone, evening...

Jim, Quinn, Tommy, Timmy and Teddy were seated around the kitchen table having dinner. Tommy was talking about his day.

"...so then Cindy asked me out."

"Tommy," said Timmy, "Isn't Cindy Mitchell the band geek with buck teeth and thick rimmed glasses?"

Tommy nodded. "That's why I shot her down. I mean, I'm the freaking quarterback! I can't be seen going out with an ugly band geek."

"Tommy," said Quinn, "I really hope that by 'shot down' you mean 'let down gently'."

"I dunno," said Tommy, "How gentle is is to laugh before telling her that football playing studs don't date ugly band nerds?"

Both Quinn and Jim frowned in disappointment.

"Oh, yeah," Teddy deadpanned, "Real gentle, and I'm sure Cindy will agree after a decade of crying and therapy."

Jim decided to change the subject.

"So, Timmy, how was your day?"

"It was great, Dad," Timmy beamed, "I developed a new dance routine for the pep rally. The Glenfield Wolf and Head Cheerleader do a synchronized twerk!"

That caused both of his parents to cringe.

"Um, Timmy," said Quinn, "Isn't that inappropriate for middle school?"

"That's what the coach said," Timmy admitted, "But it was still fun."

Teddy couldn't resist making his own color commentary.

"Was that before or after Q saw you grinding on Leslie and got crazy jealous?"

"How'd you know," said a curious Timmy.

"Well," said Teddy, "girls typically don't like seeing their boyfriends dance suggestively with other girls."

"I know that," said Timmy, "now."

Teddy rolled his eyes. "Anyway," he said, "Before this gets any more cringe, let me tell you about my day."

"Teddy," said Tommy, "Nobody cares."

"Tommy," Quinn hissed, "Don't..." Her cellphone went off. "Just a minute." She listened. "What!?! Dammit!" Pause as she listened. "Well, hopefully it's not gonna force us to shut down." Quinn then hung up. "Gotta run! There was a fire at the restaurant. I gotta go and make sure we won't need to close down for repairs." With that, Quinn got up and left.

Teddy was visibly dejected by the fact that his mother had to run and the rest of the family's disinterested in anything he has to say.

Teddy's room, later...

Teddy was typing away on his computer. As soon as he finished typing, he sat back with a surprisingly content look on his face.

"Damn, writing that was cathartic."

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Teddy, Rachel and the other students sat in Language Arts as Mr. Melvin stood in front of the class.

"Well," said Melvin, "Are we ready to share our stories with the world!?"

He was briefly disillusioned by the lack of an enthusiastic response.

"Now, who'd like to go first?"

Again, no response, prompting another frown from Melvin as he immediately picked a student at random.

"Teddy, you go first."

Teddy took his finished story, got up from his desk and walked up to the front of the class. He faced his classmates and held up the story, proceeding to read it aloud.

"I call this story "Rise of the Meek"."

He then read.

"Darius Carson was an intelligent, bespectacled middle school student. He'd been gifted at birth with adult-like awareness and genius level intelligence. Unfortunately, Darius' gift was also his curse. No one understood him. Not his family, nor his peers, nor his classmates. His biggest tormentor at school, though, was a football player named Sean Griffin. Sean was an arrogant trust fund baby, forever destined to never suffer consequences for his actions due to his family's limitless wealth and power. He loved to lord over the other students, and Darius was his favorite target. One day..."

Later...

"...Sean, castrated and bleeding profusely, looked up at Darius as the school burned all around them. He begged for his life, but his pleas fell on death ears.

"'Please,' said Sean meekly, 'Have mercy'."

"'No', Darius replied coldly, 'You'll never change. I'm doing the world a favor by sending you to Hell'"

"The last thing Sean saw was Darius bringing down the blood-soaked knife, ending the existence of his greatest enemy. Darius enacted the final part of his plan, escape. He fled the burning school through a hidden passageway that only he knew of. With his tormentors all dead, the school burned to the ground, and Darius' home burned down as well, it was assumed that Dairus was himself among the slain. In truth, Darius traveled to Europe under an assumed identity. He would grow up to be a best-selling author and live his best life. Justice had finally been done. The end."

No one in class knew what to make of Teddy's ultra-violent story. Mr. Melvin just sat in his chair with a look on his face that was simultaneously shocked and frightened.

The hallway, after class...

Teddy and Rachel were walking.

"That was a cool story," said Rachel, "I really liked the part where Darius slowly removes Sean's testicles with a butcher knife. Now, if only someone would do that to Shane Sloane."

"For that to happen," Teddy quipped, "Shane would have to actually have something to remove. I mean, why do you think he hides behind Al and Lou all the time."

Rachel stifled a giggle.

Next class period...

Teddy and Rachel were in math class. The teacher was writing an equation on the board when an announcement came over the intercom.

"Attention, class. Will Teddy Carbone please report to the principal's office?"

Teddy sighed as he emerged from his desk.

Principal's office, a short time later...

Teddy approached a door that read 'Joseph Black, Principal. With a sigh, he opened the door. Seated behind the desk was Joey, formerly of the three J's, now the principal of Glenfield Middle School. To Joey's right stood Teddy's Language Arts teacher, Mr. Melvin. To Joey's left stood the school psychiatrist, a bearded, balding man in glasses. Joey motioned to the chair in front of his desk.

"Teddy," said Joey in a stern yet worried tone, "Have a seat while we wait for your parents."

"Um," said a worried Teddy, "What's going on?"

"Well," said Joey, "Your Language Arts teacher showed me a story you wrote that's...well...concerning."

Act II
Glenfield Middle School, day...

Teddy was now stuck in the principal's office because he'd written a short story for language arts that the teacher found disturbing. As it turns out, the principal is none other than Joey, formerly of the three J's. Also present were Teddy's language arts teacher, Mr. Melvin, and the school psychiatrist.

"So," said Teddy, "I'm in trouble for a fictional story I wrote as a class assignment. Funny, but I don't recall the story using obscene language or depicting sex."

"Well, yes," said Melvin, "But it contains graphic violence, something I wasn't clear about not allowing because I'd assumed someone your age wouldn't be capable of writing something so...disturbing."

Added Joey, "It portrays arson, brutal murders and even a moment where your protagonist castrates the antagonist before violently murdering him. Both your teacher and I are concerned because, based on the names and descriptions, it's clear that the protagonist is based on you and the antagonist is based on Shane Sloane."

Teddy plead his case. "Just because I drew on real people for inspiration doesn't mean I'm actually going to do those things. It's a fictional story, nothing more."

"Nevertheless," said Joey, "It's very concerning, and the last thing I need is a school massacre happening on my watch. I've already taken the liberty of calling in your parents."

As if on cue, both Quinn and Jim enter the office.

"Teddy," Jim practically growled, "What did you do!?"

Added Quinn, "Who'd you insult and what did you say, exactly?"

"Quinn...I mean, Mrs. Carbone," said Joey, "Your son wrote a short story for class, a story Mr. Melvin and I both find highly disturbing." He then pointed to the bespectacled man with a beard. "Allow me to introduce Dr. Kohlman, our school psychiatrist."

Dr. Kohlman shook hands with both Jim and Quinn. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Carbone."

As Quinn and Jim took their seats the psychiatrist got right to the point.

"I've been going over Theodore's file and, in light of this incident, I see great cause for concern. Your son is uncommonly intelligent and very perceptive for his age. Unfortunately, he seems to be very anti-social. He only ever seems to interact with one other student, one Rachel White. He appears openly disdainful of all others. He's also been known to make snarky, disrespectful remarks at the expense of his teachers. His unusual personality also appears to make him a frequent target of bullying."

"Can't say I'm surprised," said Jim.

Added Quinn, "He was always like that. It's just the way Teddy is."

Dr. Kohlman eyed both parents with obvious concern.

"I find it disconcerting that you're both so nonchalant about this."

"After twelve years," said Jim, "I'm pretty used to this."

"Besides," said Quinn, "My sister was exactly the same way at his age. This isn't the big deal you're making it out to be."

"I beg to differ," said Dr. Kohlman, "In light of the disturbing story your son wrote for a class assignment. It contains graphic violence as well as characters that are clearly based on Teddy and his classmates. The story is clearly a revenge fantasy."

"As I already explained to your son," said Joey, "I can't have one of the students snapping and turning this school into the next Columbine or Parkland. Tell me, do either of you own guns?"

Jim took offense. "Excuse me! What's that got to do with anything?"

"Jim, calm down," said Quinn, "Jim owns a handgun and a hunting rifle, but he keeps both secure at all times. The kids don't have access to them."

Joey, Dr. Kohlman and Mr. Melvin all gave Jim a look that wordlessly said he's the worst parent on the planet because of this.

"Look, guys," said Joey, "I'm afraid the district requires me to enforce a zero-tolerance policy about these things. I have no choice but to suspend Teddy for a whole week before deciding whether or not to expel him."

Quinn and Jim both gasped in shock.

"Expelled," exclaimed Quinn.

"For writing one stupid story," said the equally incredulous Jim.

"Possibly," said Joey, "I'm suspending Teddy for a week, so I have time to think it over. Either I expel him, or I place him in an after-school program for at-risk students."

"So," Teddy quipped, "I guess this means forgetting the whole thing after I serve my suspension isn't in the cards then."

"Teddy," said Joey in an authoritative tone that would make Ms. Li proud, "If I showed even the slightest tolerance, then it couldn't be called zero tolerance." His tone then became apologetic as he addressed Teddy's parents. "I'm sorry, but my hands are tied. If I don't suspend and try to segregate Teddy, then the school board will just replace me with someone who will."

Casa Carbone, evening...

Teddy sat alone in his room reading The Invisible Man. There was a knock on his door.

"I'd say come in, but you'll probably just do that anyway."

A second later, Timmy entered.

"Teddy, it it true?"

"Which part," asked Teddy, "The story that everyone's reading into way too much, my being suspended from school, or Mom and Dad grounding me? The answer to all three is yes."

"Is it true that you wanna kill Shane Sloane and burn down the school," asked Timmy with fear in his voice.

Teddy rolled his eyes. "Timmy, that was just a fictional story. I'm not a murderer or arsonist, nor do I aspire to become one. I'll tell Tommy the same thing when he comes in to give me hell over this."

"Actually," said Timmy, "Tommy doesn't wanna be near you. He's afriad you might shoot him or come at him with a knife."

"Tempting as that is," said Teddy, "I'm not going to kill Tommy, though I could argue that it's justifiable homicide if I do."

Timmy looked at his brother with terror in his eyes.

"I was joking," said Teddy with an eye roll.

"Um...okay," said the freaked-out Timmy. Timmy then looked at his watch. "Oh, is that the time! Um...gotta go!"

Timmy left the room in an uncomfortable hurry.

"Well," said Teddy to himself, "At least I've found a new way to keep the dumbass duo off my back."

Teddy then picked up his cell and dialed a number.

"Hello," said Rachel on the other end.

"Hey, Rachel," said Teddy, "I guess you've heard."

"Yeah," said Rachel, "The cesspool of stupidity that is Lawndale strikes again. How's prison?"

"It's hell," said Teddy, "but both my home and school lives are like that anyway. At least it's just a week, then we can make up for lost time."

"Actually," said Rachel, "We can't. When my parents found out what happened, they freaked...especially Dad. Mom didn't take long to cool off, but my Dad is putting his foot down."

"Um...I'm not gonna like what you say next, am I," said Teddy.

Rachel sighed. "Dad says we can't be friends anymore. Both Mom and I tried to change his mind, but he won't budge. Says he doesn't want his little girl associating with someone who's a mass murderer in the making. Mom tried her usual tactics for making Dad be reasonable, but he's actually willing to risk a divorce over this."

Teddy frowned. He's grounded, suspended, in danger of being expelled and now he's lost his only friend on top of all that.

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Tommy, Timmy, Q and Kevin Jr. were hanging out by Tommy's locker between class.

"God," said Tommy, "I can't freaking believe this. I mean, I'm the QB. I can't have a psycho for a brother."

Q spoke up. "Um, Tommy, have you considered that maybe Teddy's not a psycho and this is all just a misunderstanding?"

"Come on, babe," said Timmy, "You know what a weirdo Teddy is."

"Yeah," added Kevin Jr., "We all know that guy's a total freak."

Q found herself agreeing. "Come to think of it, Teddy is kinda creepy." She then turned to her boyfriend. "Timmy, I know he's your brother, but he does kinda freak me out. Maybe he really does wanna kill Shane and burn down the whole school."

"Speak of the devil," said Tommy as he saw Shane approaching, accompanied as always by his two lackeys Al and Lou.

"So, Q," said Shane, "Since Titty's brother is a psycho killer, you ready to trade up to a real man?"

Q rolled her eyes. "Shane, even if I were single and desperate, there's no way in hell I'd ever go out with a spoiled rich jerk like you."

Al was about to ball up a fist, but Lou stopped him.

"Al, we're in middle school now....and on the football team. Cheerleaders are off limits."

Al lowered his fist and spoke apologetically to Q.

"Sorry, habit."

Shane then decided to use the situation with Teddy to take Tommy down a peg, just like his own mother, Sandi, used to do to Quinn.

"You know, Tommy," said Shane, "If your weirdo brother's a homicidal maniac, how do I know you aren't one two? Maybe it runs in your family."

Tommy was nervous as he knew this was actually a veiled threat to his own popularity.

"Shane, Teddy's adopted."

"But, Tommy...oof!"

Tommy elbowed Timmy before he could say anything else.

"Shut up, Timmy!"

Tommy then turned his attention back to Shane.

"Um...Yeah. Teddy's adopted!"

No one is buying this for a very obvious reason.

"Then why does he look like you in dorky glasses," said Shane in a condescending tone.

Tommy instantly fished for an explanation.

"We're cousins. His real mom and my mom were twins. Um...My parents took him in after his real mom killed herself. Yeah, that's it! What can I say, my parents are just too charitable for their own good."

Shane doesn't bleieve him, but pretends otherwise so that he can lord the secret over Tommy's head for the six-and-a-half years between now and highschool graduation.

"Okay, that explains it. I just hope you aren't lying, 'cause if you are and get found out everyone's gonna think you're pathetic."

Tommy was both relieved and nervous.

As it turned out, Rachel White, was walking by. She'd overheard the whole thing and stared daggers at Tommy for throwing his brother/her only friend under the bus like that.

Casa Carbone, evening...

The entire family was seated at the kitchen table having dinner. Tommy, as usual, was bragging about his day.

"...then at lunch I was asked out by Jenny Leerson. Of course I said yes. I mean, I'm the QB and she's one of the hottest girls in school."

Teddy immediately dropped the bomb. "You forgot to mention making sure the whole school thinks I'm adopted."

"Tommy," Quinn hissed.

"How could you spread rumors about your own brother like that," Jim barked.

"Mom, Dad," said Tommy, "I had to. I mean, how would you feel if you had a brother who's a dangerous psycho?"

"Tommy," said Quinn, "I get it. I used to claim Daria and I aren't related too. Trust me, no one really cares that your brother isn't as popular or you. I wish I'd known that when I was your age."

"Mom," Tommy protested, "If it gets out that Teddy's my brother, everyone will hate me! I mean, he wants to kill Shane Sloane and burn down the whole school."

"Yeah," added Timmy, "We're all scared. Q's freaking out, and I don't know if I can protect her if Teddy snaps."

Added Tommy, "Do you have any idea what it's gonna do to my status if he goes Parkland on us!?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Boys, all your brother did was write a violent story. He's not some time bomb waiting to go off!"

"I don't know," said Jim, "I mean, last year my uncle tried to frame me for murder, and my father tried to frame me for an act of terrorism just last weekend."

Quinn rolled her eyes again. "Jim, you can't seriously tell me your falling for the mass hysteria!"

"Well," said Jim, "Maybe there's some psycho gene on my side of the family and I passed it on to Teddy."

"If that's true," said Teddy, "Then Tommy and Timmy are also mass murderers in the making since, being triplets, our DNA is completely identical."

Jim thought it over for a second.

"Yeah, come to think of it, I think I am getting sucked into the hysteria. I mean, this is the kind of situation where fear tends to overwhelm reason."

Added Quinn, "And I hope it blows over soon."

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Joey was seated at his desk in the principal's office while Dr. Kohlman sat across from him. Kohlman was making his recommendation of what to do with Teddy.

"Based on my interviews with teachers, parents and classmates, along with my own review of Teddy's permanent record, I can now confidently saw that the boy poses no danger to the school or it's students. He has a dark imagination and a cynical outlook, but there's nothing to suggest that he's a danger. Indeed, he displays an emotional maturity well beyond his years. This story was just a fantasy, nothing more."

Joey breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God! I won't half to expell him after all. I so wasn't looking forward to having that conversation with Quinn."

"Just to be safe," said Kohlman, "I do think that after his suspension's up we should enroll him in the after-school anger management, just to ensure that he doesn't become a threat later on. Otherwise, just let him be."

"Okay," said a relieved Joey, "Let him return, but keep an eye on him. I think I can do that." He then opened up a large book titled School District Policy. He thumbed through it for a few seconds. "Let's see...okay, I can do that. Good, means I can go with your recommendation without risking my job."

Dr. Kohlman frowned as it's obvious that Joey cares more about his own job security than student welfare. Suddenly, the door swung open, startling both men.

"Um...Oh, hi, San...I mean Mrs. Sloane," said Joey as he quickly calmed down.

Standing in the doorway was Sandi, and she did not look happy.

"Why haven't you expelled Teddy Carbone," she asked in a haughty tone.

Dr. Kohlman answered. "My own investigation and professional analysis has determined that he does not pose a danger to other students. He just wrote a disturbing fictional story."

"I beg to differ," Sandi insisted, "Young Theodore fits the profile of a future mass murderer perfectly. He wants to kill my son, for chrissake!"

"No," said Joey, "He doesn't. He wrote a fictional story, nothing more. Shane's in no danger whatsoever."

"I disagree," said Sandi with a triumphant smirk, "And so does the Superintendant of Schools...after I threatened to withdraw my financial support for the public school's, that is."

Joey and Dr. Kohlman said the same thing at the same time in response.

"eep!"

Glenfield Middle School, later that day...

Quinn and Jim were taking their seats in front of Joey's desk.

"Thanks for coming in on such short notice," said Joey.

"What's going on," asked Jim with a concerned voice.

Joey took a breath before explaining. "See, I'd decided that after Teddy's suspension was over we'd simply require him to take a special anger management class after school but otherwise allow things to continue as before."

Quinn could tell something was up.

"I sense a 'but' coming."

"But," Joey confirmed, "It turns out that Shane's mother caught wind of what's going on."

"So," asked Jim.

"So," Joey explained, "Sandi's on the warpath over this. She's already gone to the school board and threatened to pull all financial support from the public school system."

"Uh-oh," said a VERY worried Quinn.

"Yeah," said Joey, "The Superintendent folded like a dollar watch when Sandi threatened to stop the gravy train. Now, I have no choice. I have to either expel Teddy or I'll be fired."

Quinn and Jim gasped in horror.

Act III
Casa Carbone, day...

Quinn and Jim were back from their emergency meeting with Joey. Now they were seated with Teddy in the living room and have just explained what happened.

"So," said Teddy, "I'm expelled just because Shane's mother has enough clout to impose her will on the entire school board."

"I'm afraid so," Quinn explained, "Teddy, I'm so sorry."

"So," said Teddy, "Am I being homeschooled, or sent elsewhere?"

"Two words," said Jim, "Buxton Ridge!"

"Dammit, Jim," Quinn barked, "There is no way in hell that we're putting Teddy in a military academy, especially the one that traumatized my father!"

"Like hell," Jim fired back, "Dammit, Quinn, we've been doing it your way for the last twelve years and, what a shocker, Teddy's a sociopath and Timmy's a wuss! I'm sending him to military school, where they're gonna make a man outta him!"

"Jim," Quinn hissed, "I WILL NOT LET YOU SEND HIM TO THAT PLACE!!!!"

"Quinn," Jim said in an ominous tone, "I'M NOT GIVING YOU A GODDAMN CHOICE, WOMAN!!! I'M THE MAN OF THE HOUSE, AND YOU WILL LOVE, HONOR AND, ESPECIALLY, OBEY!!!!"

Quinn's eyes narrowed menacingly. "You dare! YOU FREAKING DARE!!!"

"Um," said Teddy, "Maybe I should leave the room."

Jim turned his ire on Teddy.

"YOU'VE GOT NOTHING TO SAY UNLESS I TELL YOU TO SPEAK, YOU INGRATE!!!"

"DAMMIT, JIM," Quinn yelled, "DON'T YOU DARE TAKE IT OUT ON TEDDY JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE IN PANIC MODE, AND DON'T YOU DARE USE THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO TURN INTO YOUR OWN FATHER!!!!!!"

That snapped Jim out of it.

"I...I...sorry. I...Well, I'm frustrated and scared. I'm frustrated that the Sloanes have enough wealth and power to impose their will on the whole town and scared of what they'll do if we try to fight back. I..." Suddenly, Jim's cell went off. "Just a minute." Jim answered. "Hey, Tom, been awhile..." Jim's face turned pale as he listened. "I...I understand. Yes...Okay, we'll do it...Later." Jim hung up and explained. "Sandi got in Tom's ear. He said that if we don't send Teddy away, then she's gonna retaliate by using her pull with the town zoning comission to force us to leave Lawndale."

Quinn was outraged. "How can Tom be okay with this!?"

"Quinn," said Jim, "If I were married to Sandi Griffin, I'd be afraid to cross her as well."

Quinn's inner Helen began to flare up.

"It's time Sandi and I had a little chat!"

Sloane Mansion, later...

Sandi sat in the breakfast nook reading a trashy romance novel. Suddenly, the nearby intercom beeped. She put down her book, walked to the intercom, and pressed talk.

"Yes."

A voice with a posh British accent spoke.

"Mrs. Sloane, Mrs. Carbone is at the door."

Sandi sighed.

"Send her in."

The sitting room, a short time later...

Quinn and Sandi were seated on the fancy, ornate, overpriced couch talking over tea.

"Quinn," said Sandi, "I think I know what this is about."

"Sandi," said Quinn, "How could you do that? How could you force the school to expel Teddy then force your husband to threaten mine?"

"Quinn," said Sandi, "I'm just a mother trying to protect her son. You should understand that."

Quinn nodded. "I do, but what you did was an extreme overreaction. In fact, everything all of the adults have been doing since Teddy wrote that story is an extreme overreaction. I mean, my husband was so freaked that he was angrily threatening to send Teddy to military school until I managed to calm him down."

"Maybe you should," said Sandi, "A boy like Teddy needs better discipline."

Quinn immediately took offense. "Excuse me! If anyone needs better discipline, it's YOUR son! Shane's an arrogant bully who never suffers consequences because you constantly pull rank with the school board. You spoil him rotten and let him do whatever he wants, you use your influence to shield him from any and all consequences of his behavior AND you get angry whenever someone tries to call you out!"

Sandi's reaction immediately proved Quinn's point.

"How DARE you talk about my sweet little angel like that, Kuh-winn!!"

"You just proved me right," said Quinn, "Your so-called sweet little angel is a spoiled rich kid because you enable him!"

Sandi immediately fired back. "Your little brain is a sociopath who wants to kill my son and burn down the school!"

Quinn got right in Sandi's face. "It was just a fictional story, dammit! None of my boys are potential mass murderers! You're just overreacting due to panic!"

"You think a weirdo like Teddy isn't a mass murderer in the making," said Sandi, "Clearly, you are in denial, Kuh-winn."

"Hey," said Quinn, "I'm not the one who's deluded herself into thinking her son's a perfect little angel!"

"No," said Sandi, "You are the one I am kicking out of my house!" Sandi then pressed the talk button on her intercom. "Release the hounds!"

Outside, a few seconds later...

Quinn is running for her life from a pack of bloodthirsty Dobermanns.

Casa Carbone, later...

Teddy was sitting on the couch reading a sports magazine. He appeared to be bored out of his mind.

I can't believe Dad confiscated all of my books, the video games and changed the parental controls on the TV to screen everything but Fox News.

It was at this point that the front door opened, and Quinn came in. She was sweaty, out of breath and her shirt and pants were torn in several places.

Seeing his mother's state, Teddy couldn't help scommenting.

"I take it your meeting with Mrs. Sloane didn't go well."

Quinn explained. "Yeah, she got so angry that she not only kicked me out but also set her attack dogs on me."

"Sorry, Mom," said Teddy.

Quinn sat next to him.

"It's not your fault," she said, "Everyone's being totally unreasonable about this." That's when Quinn noticed something. "Where's your father?"

"Upstairs," said Teddy, "purging our rooms of anything that might be morally corrupting, which is basically everything we own."

Quinn sighed. "So, he's overreacting like everyone else?"

Teddy nodded. He then turned serious. "Mom."

"Yes."

"You don't think I'm a ticking time bomb, do you," asked Teddy.

"God, no," said Quinn, "You're my son, Teddy. I probably know you better than you know yourself. I know you don't have a violent bone in your body. Besides, it was just a story."

"You know," said Teddy, "You're pretty much the only person who's not treating a fictional story like it's a declaration of intent."

"Duh," said Quinn, "You know, Aunt Daria went through a revenge fantasy phase when she was your age, and she never did anything."

"Did she ever get in this much trouble for it," asked Teddy.

Quinn shook her head. "No. I mean, the stories rattled her teachers enough to make the school call in our parents, but she was never suspended or expelled over the issue."

"Probably because it was before school shootings became commonplace," Teddy remarked.

"Actually," Quinn pointed out, "Those things started happening in the early nineties. It took until the end of the decade for the hysteria to get this bad, though."

Teddy sighed. "Mom."

"Yes?"

"Thanks for trying."

"You don't have to thank me for that," said Quinn, "It's what us mothers do."

It was at this point that the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," said Teddy as he got up from the couch. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see who it was.

"Mr. and Mrs. White!?"

"Hi, Teddy," said Jamie, "Are your parents' home? "

Added Nicole, "We need to show them something."

"Is this something for adult eyes only," asked Teddy.

"How'd you know," asked Jamie in turn.

"Just a feeling," Teddy answered.

Home office, later...

Quinn, Jim, Nicole and Jamie were watching a VERY racy video on the computer.

"Oh...SANDI...oh...GOD...YESSSS..."

Quinn was shocked.

"Nicole, this is the girl-on-girl porno you made with Sandi as a Valentine's Day gift for Jamie way back when!"

Added Jim, "Why are you guys showing us this now?"

Jamie explained. "At first, I forbade Rachel and Teddy to be friends because I panicked. Since then, I've calmed down and changed my mind. Then, Nicole and I heard about what was going on."

Added Nicole, "We wanna help."

"Um, guys," said Jim, "How does a homemade porno from sixteen years ago help?"

"Easy," said Nicole, "Imagine how humiliated Sandi would be if this video leaked."

"But, Nicole," said Quinn, "Making this public would humiliate you too, wouldn't it?"

"Not really," said Nicole, "I don't care if people know I once got busy with a member of my own gender just to turn on my husband."

"But Sandi will definitely care," said Jamie with a grin, "So much that she'll do whatever it takes to keep this video from ever going public."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, given how conservative the Crewe Neck crowd is, I can DEFINITELY see that. She'd lose a ton of status with her country club friends over something like this."

"Also," said Nicole, "Threatening Sandi with this would remind her where she came from and what all we've done to help her get where she is now. After all, Chuck and Stacy also have footage of Sandi working as a stripper at Cafe Risque. I spoke to Stacy before we came over. Just say the word, and she'll have the station run the story."

Smirking, Quinn picked up her cellphone and dialed a number.

"Sandi, it's Quinn. If you wanna stay in good standing, don't hang up."

Quinn's triumphant grin grew as she listened.

"Let's make a little deal, unless you want your country club friends knowing you're a bisexual ex-stripper who once made a lesbian porno."

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Joey sat in his office while Sandi spoke in a surprisingly humble tone.

"...so, after much deliberation, I've decided that I don't want Teddy expelled after all. I've already told the school board that there'll be no repercussions if the boy is reinstated."

Joey was somewhat dismissive.

"What about my job? They said they'd fire me if I didn't expel Teddy."

Sandi replied, "And I said I'd stop the gravy train if they took any action against you in this matter. You don't reinstate Teddy Carbone, however, and I will see to it that you're fired and blackballed so hard you won't even be able to get a job flipping burgers."

"Okay, fine," said Joey, "I'll tell Mr. and Mrs. Carbone that Teddy's reinstated."

Casa Carbone, a short time later...

Jim was on the phone while Teddy and Quinn stood close by.

"Thanks, Mr. Black. He'll be there."

Jim then hung up.

"Teddy, that was Principal Black. You're not expelled after all. You'll be back in class on Monday."

Teddy and his mother exchanged Daria-like smirks.

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Teddy and Rachel were walking the halls. Teddy was telling her about the crazy week he'd just had.

"So," said Rachel, "My parents basically helped your parents blackmail Shane's parents."

"Pretty much," said Teddy, "Though I think in the future I'll only show you when I write a violent revenge fantasy."

"That might be a good idea," said Rachel.

"So," said Teddy, "Anything interesting happen while I was suspended?"

"Not really," said Rachel, "Just made a really kick-ass painting in art class."

"What did you do," asked Teddy.

"Drew a bloody depiction of all the students dying in the trenches during World War One," said Rachel, "The portrait even shows Shane Sloane choking to death on mustard gas."

Suddenly, an announcement comes over the intercom.

"Will Rachel White please come to the principal's office."

Teddy and Rachel exchanged worried looks.

A few days later...

Teddy and Rachel were both stuck in an anger management class after school.

"How much worse could this get," Rachel wondered out loud, "We're missing Sick, Sad World."

"No, Rachel," said Teddy, "I'm beginning to think we're on it."

Suddenly, the teacher walks in. It's Mr. O'Neil. Except for having gray hair now, he looks like he did back in the nineties.

"Hello, class," said O'Neil, "Let's get to work on learning how to deal with our anger in a healthy, enlightened manner. Isn't that exciting!?"

"Why does burning down the school suddenly not seem like such a bad idea," Teddy deadpanned.

End chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rejects Daryls advances in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the mall with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids shop with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Timmy's Awokening"
written by
WildDogJJ

Casa Carbone, day...

Jim and Quinn were sitting at the kitchen table. Quinn was reading mail while Jim was assembling small figurines of various players for the Kansas City Chiefs and the Philadelphia Eagles. Quinn looked up from the latest letter she'd read.

"Looks like I'm feeding an army this year," said Quinn, "I just finished the last RSVP for our Super Bowl party. Everyone you invited is gonna be here this year."

"Well," said Jim, "You did purchase a new smart TV with surround sound for Christmas. How could I not invite everyone we know?"

"Even the Meizners are showing up," said Quinn, "and they don't even like to watch football."

At this point, the triplets entered the kitchen.

"Boys," said Quinn, "Now that you're all twelve, how about this year you help your father and I set up for the Super Bowl party?"

Timmy was visibly excited while Tommy and Teddy were less than thrilled.

"Mom," Tommy whined, "I'm the quarterback. I can't decorate for a super bowl party."

"Can I serve up the snacks," asked Timmy excitedly.

"Of course," said Quinn, "In fact, you're gonna help me with the food. Tommy, I want you to help your father set up the decorations."

"Oh, come on, Mom," Tommy protested.

Jim then got an idea on how to motivate Tommy.

"You know, Tommy," he said, "If you help me with this, I'll let you drink beer at the party."

Tommy loved that idea.

"Cool, I'm in!"

"Dammit, Jim," Quinn barked, "You're not letting Tommy drink beer! He's only twelve years old, for Chrissake!"

"Quinn," Jim protested, "That's how old I was the first time I drank beer."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "UGH!"

Jim then turned to Tommy.

"Just one thing," he said, "You start getting tipsy and I'll cut you off, so pace yourself."

"Dad," Teddy asked, "How is it that you're okay bribing Tommy with beer?"

"Because," Jim explained, "My mother's from Italy, and most Italians start drinking wine around your age as a matter of tradition. It just doesn't seem that taboo to me."

Indeed, that's why Quinn was not protesting this as strongly as usual. Desperate to change the subject, she turned to Teddy.

"Teddy," said Quinn, "I want you to help me with the betting pool this year."

Teddy immediately called out his mother's hypocrisy with a deadpan remark.

"Because encouraging gambling is so much more responsible than encouraging underage drinking."

Neither Quinn nor Jim appreciated their son's remark. Seeing this, Teddy flashed a Daria-style half grin.

Thompson house, the following morning...

Kevin and Daryl Johnson were both seated at the kitchen table. Since Brittany ended her affair with Daryl, he and Kevin have become friends due to Kevin's eagerness to help Daryl sue the family that owned his ancestors for reparations (and Kevin remaining blissfully ignorant of the fact that Daryl spent fifteen years nailing his wife). In fact, they were talking about Daryl's lawsuit.

"You know," said Daryl, "I recently read a news story about a black man who won five million from the textile company that used his ancestors as slave labor. It might make a good precedent for our case."

"Cool," said Kevin. He then scratched his head in a lame attempt to think. "Uhhh...What's precedent mean?"

Daryl, not for the first time, visibly regretted the decision to have Kevin as legal counsel. He only did it because he didn't want to pay an actual lawyer. Before the conversation could continue, Kevin Jr. entered.

"Hey, Dad, hey, Mr. Johnson."

"Please," said Daryl, "Call me dad...I mean Daryl!"

Daryl sighed with relief that neither Kevin nor Kevin Jr. noticed his slip of the tongue. For those who don't know, Kevin Junior is actually the product of Brittany and Daryl's affair. This fact is visually obvious as both Daryl and Junior are black. Despite this, Kevin truly believes that Kevin Jr. is biologically his.

"You know," said Daryl, "I'm actually gonna be speaking at your school today for Black History Month. I could give you a ride there."

"It's okay with me," said Kevin.

Kevin Junior was not interested in the offer.

"Nah, I'll ride my bike." He then turned to Kevin. "Oh, Dad, my bike chain's busted."

Kevin stood up.

"Like, no problem, son. I'm sure Jim's got the right tools in his garage."

With that, Kevin and Kevin Jr. left. As soon as he was alone, Daryl let out a regretful sigh. This encounter was the first time in months that he's seen Kevin Junior, and it hurt to know that the boy would probably never know that Daryl's his real father. He was shaken out of his thoughts by Brittany entering.

"Daryl, what are you doing here?"

"I was talking about my reparations case with your husband," said Daryl as he stood up. Now that he and Brittany were no longer a thing, the two had been trying to interact as little as possible. "You know, you just missed Junior." Daryl slumped his shoulders. "Well, I mean, I guess you see him every day."

Brittany looked uncomfortable as she poured some coffee into a thermos.

Daryl continued musing about Junior.

"That boy's grown at least two inches. He's twelve now. It won't be long until puberty and he starts turning into a man." Daryl let out a regretful sigh before continuing. "Too much time passes without me seeing him. Thank God for the Carbone's Super Bowl party."

Brittany awkwardly faced her former lover.

"Um...Daryl, about that." She took a sip of coffee before continuing. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come to the Carbones while we're there."

Daryl was visibly hurt by this.

"But...You didn't let me attend Kevin Jr's twelfth birthday party, you didn't want me around for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I get it, my presence is awkward now, but I've hardly seen my son since we broke up."

Brittany wasn't having it.

"Daryl, Junior is Kevie's son. You're just, like, you know..." She started to twirl her hair. "Ummm...well..."

Daryl rolled his eyes in frustration.

"A sperm donor."

A dim light went off in Brittany's head.

"Yeah, that's it! Look, Kevin Junior's Kevin's son, end of story."

Daryl responded with bitterness in his voice.

"You say that now, but let's just wait and see what box that boy checks on his college application in a few years!"

With that, Daryl angrily stormed off while Brittany stood there looking worried. She does not want Daryl in Kevin Jr.'s life for fear of her past affair being leaked to both her son and her husband.

Glenfield Middle School, later...

History class was in session. Among the students in this class were Kevin Jr. and Timmy. Daryl was there, sitting next to the teacher's desk. The teacher, a middle-aged brunette named Mrs. Tyler, addressed the students.

"As you know," said the teacher, "Since February is Black History Month we've been studying the African American experience in America, both the good and the bad. That is why today a member of the black community is here to talk about black history. Let's welcome Mister Daryl Johnson."

As Mrs. Tyler took her seat, Daryl stood up and addressed the class.

"Class, my name is Daryl Johnson. I work as a fitness trainer at Level Up Fitness Club."

Daryl frowned as he saw that none of the kids in the class appeared interested. He was further saddened to see that Kevin Jr. was especially bored.

"You know," Daryl continued, "Last year I took a DNA test on Ancestry.com and learned that I am directly descended from the Bantu people of the Congo basin."

The kids continued looking bored. Daryl's sadness grew as he saw that Kevin Jr. was actually starting to fall asleep.

"You know," Daryl continued, "I even discovered that my ancestors were owned by Senator Cleman's ancestors. I am actually trying to gain reparations from them."

Ironically, Kevin Jr. had actually fallen asleep by this point, but Daryl now had Timmy's visible interest. Daryl continued with his lecture.

"I am suing for reparations because, like most black Americans, I am descended from people who were kidnapped from their homes in Africa and sold into slavery here in the US. We were worked to death, taken from our homes, stripped of our culture and identities. Indeed, even after slavery was abolished, the white man continued to find ways to oppress us. They'd passed laws to exclude us from voting, forbade us from attending the same schools or even use the same services as white people. We were barred from all the good paying jobs, forced to live in segregated ghettos. White people would even hunt us down and lynch us just for fun."

At this point, Timmy raised his hand.

"Yes," said Daryl.

"Mr. Johnson," said Timmy, "Are you sure? I ask because I'm white and this is the first I'm hearing of any of this."

Daryl took one last look at the sleeping Kevin Jr. before answering Timmy's question in a pained voice.

"Pretty sure."

Timmy had a look of both interest and guilt on his face.

"Whoa!"

Later...

Class was now letting out. Daryl approached Kevin Jr. and Timmy at the door. Since he actually knows both boys, no one found it strange that he wanted to talk to them.

"Hey, what did you boys think of the lecture," Daryl asked.

"It was okay," said Kevin Jr. in a tone of forced politeness.

Timmy said nothing but appeared deep in thought.

"You know, Junior," said Daryl, "If you'd like to learn more, I can give you a ride home after school."

"Um...I'll think about it," said Junior while Timmy just stood there looking thoughtful.

The parking lot, a few hours later...

Daryl sat in his new car, a Mustang Shelby, waiting to give a ride to Kevin Junior. He was trying to hype himself up for it.

"Okay, Daryl, be cool!"

Daryl's excitement grew as he looked outside and saw Kevin Jr. emerge, accompanied by both Tommy and Timmy. He took a deep breath.

"Don't bore him."

Daryl's excitement quickly gave way to disappointment as he saw Timmy approach his car while Kevin Jr. walked off with Tommy.

"What the hell?"

Timmy opened the passenger side door.

"Thanks for the lift, Mr. Johnson."

Daryl was disappointed as he'd only extended the offer to Timmy in order to spend some time with Kevin Jr.

"Where's Junior going?"

"He and Tommy are gonna hang out at the mall," said Timmy.

Daryl was miffed.

"I sat here...for two hours...for that!?"

Timmy misread the situation entirely.

"And I really appreciate it, Mr. Johnson. I was dreading a walk home all day."

Daryl quietly fumed, his best laid plan shot to hell.

"Mr. Johnson," said Timmy, "I really liked the lecture. I mean, I never knew the white man did all of that to your people."

Daryl's bitterness overwhelmed his better judgement.

"The white man's still doing it," Daryl fumed, "Five hundred years of systemic racism wasn't enough. We still endure police brutality, discrimination in both jobs and housing. Hell, we just re-elected the most openly racist president in American history. The white man even has to take our CHILDREN away from us!"

Timmy was soaking all of this up like a sponge.

Casa Carbone, later...

Quinn was in the kitchen frosting some cookies. A tripod mounted camera was recording. Quinn was using a tube of white frosting to draw laces on football shaped gingerbread cookies. Once done, she looked at the camera. In accordance with the theme of the video, she was also wearing a Philadelphia Eagles jersey.

"And, viola! Super Bowl cookies. The perfect dessert for your football party. I'm Quinn, don't forget to like and subscribe! S'mores 'n' Pores, cooking good while looking good! Go, Eagles!"

As Quinn shut off the camera, Timmy entered. She immediately walked up to her son.

"Timmy," said a disappointed Quinn, "Where were you? You were supposed to be home from school hours ago!"

"I was hanging out with Daryl Johnson."

Quinn's face lost all color when he said that. This was due to the fear that Daryl would tell Timmy about his own...past indiscretions (banging Brittany for fifteen years, being Kevin Jr's real father).

"What the hell!? Timmy, you know better!"

She took a breath to calm herself down.

"Um...He didn't say anything...interesting...did he?"

"He did," said Timmy.

Quinn was understandably nervous as she does not want her son finding out that his best friend's father is actually Daryl, not Kevin.

Timmy explained. "He told me how our people have spent centuries treating his people like animals. He told me about slavery, Jim Crow and the systemic racism of today."

Quinn let out a huge sigh of relief. Considering what Daryl could've told Timmy, she was glad that the boy just got a more intense history lesson than what's usually covered in class.

At this point, Jim entered the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," said Jim, "Timmy, did you have fun helping your mother bake cookies for the Super Bowl."

Timmy looked at his father with misplaced hatred.

"Is that all you care about, Dad," said the boy in a confrontational tone, "Football?"

Jim was visibly confused by his son's behavior.

"Um...What?"

Timmy said, "Daryl Johnson told me the real history of his people. You would rather watch football and throw a party than acknowledge our crimes! Is there no end to the white man's hatred and oppression!?"

Jim grew defensive.

"What crimes!? And don't you DARE take that tone of voice with me, kid!"

Timmy refused to back down.

"You and your white people have enslaved, oppressed and systematically raped Daryl's people! You owe everything you have to the rape, murder and oppression of the black man!"

"Timmy," said Jim, "Your mother and I had nothing to do with ANY of that! Hell, you're getting mad for stuff that happened in the past. We've never done anything to harm a black person!"

"That's right," Timmy angrily barked, "You don't even consider them people, whitey!"

Jim angrily points towards the stairs.

"Room...NOW!"

Timmy was not ready to back off.

"You can't tell me what to do, slaver!"

"THE HELL I CAN'T," Jim yelled, "I'm your father! NOW GET YOUR ASS UPSTAIRS AND STAY THERE!!!"

Timmy obeyed.

"FINE! BUT I'M NOT YOUR PROPERTY!"

He angrily ran upstairs to his room. Once gone, Quinn and Jim exchanged awkward looks.

"What the hell was all that about," asked Jim as his anger had now given way to confusion.

The next day...

Kevin Jr. was riding his bicycle home from school when Daryl pulled up to him in his car and rolled down the window. What Junior didn't know was that Daryl had been secretly following him in a poorly thought-out attempt to bond with the boy.

"Hey, Junior!"

Kevin Jr. acknowledged Daryl.

"Hey, Mr. Johnson."

"Please, call me Daryl."

Kevin Jr. was a little weirded out by this.

"Um...okay."

Daryl reached into the passenger seat and picked up a framed picture.

"You know, I was cleaning my apartment and found this picture. Thought you might like it."

He handed the framed picture to Kevin Jr. The boy looked disinterested as he stared at a black-and-white photo of a bunch of black men in World War II era flight suits.

"That's the Tuskegee Airmen," Daryl explained, "A famous pilot squadron during World War II." Daryl pointed to one of the airmen in the picture. "That's my grandfather. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah," said Kevin Junior in an unconvincing voice.

As it turned out, they were now right by Casa Carbone. Jim emerged from the house and saw Daryl handing the framed picture to Kevin Junior.

Perfect, Jim thought, I can have a talk with him about what he put in Timmy's head the other day.

As Kevin Junior made his way to the Thompson house, which is right next to Casa Carbone, Daryl let out a depressed sigh. It pained him to think that Kevin Junior would probably never know that Daryl's his real father. He was taken out of this by the sound of Jim knocking on the passenger side window.

"Daryl," Jim barked, "I wanna talk with you...NOW!"

Daryl sighed as he knew what this was about. Resigned, he opened the passenger side door and let Jim in.

Taking a seat, Jim skipped the preamble and got straight to the point.

"What the hell did you say at that school lecture yesterday," Jim barked, "Timmy's accusing Quinn and I of being racist slavers."

"White privilege," said Daryl, "Now that Timmy knows about it, he feels guilty and wishes to make amends. After all, Jim, your people did kidnap and enslave my people in order to build this country."

Jim wasn't having it. "Dammit, Daryl, my family never owned slaves! Hell, the Carbones didn't even come to America until 1905, forty years after slavery was abolished!"

"You still benefit from white privilege," Daryl countered, "After all, I have to fight tooth and nail for things that are handed to you on a silver platter simply because you're a white man in America."

"Look," said Jim, "I know that historically black people got a pretty raw deal in this country, and, in many ways, they still are, but did you have to talk about it in a way that makes Timmy suddenly develop an irrational hatred for anyone with his own skin color?"

Daryl spoke like a militant black nationalist. "The black man will overrun whitey and take back what the white man has stolen from us. He's the spirit of our race!"

Jim was confused. "Timmy is!?"

"No," said Daryl as he calmed down, "Kevin Junior."

Jim gasped as he realized what this was really about.

"This isn't really about race or history, is it?"

Daryl confirmed this with a sad nod.

"Jim," said Daryl as a tear ran down his cheek, "I...I...I WANT MY SON BACK!!!"

Daryl then proceeded to cry uncontrollably on Jim's shoulder. This made Jim so uncomfortable that he immediately opened the car door, pulled away from Daryl and ran to his own house. Daryl just continued to cry uncontrollably.

Act II
White Residence, day...

Teddy and his best/only friend, Rachel, were in her room watching TV. On the screen was a cook throwing severed human limbs into an oven, which immediately cut to a shot of a family eating roasted arms and legs.

"His restaurant was having trouble standing out...SO HE ADDED PEOPLE TO THE MENU! Cannibal Cafe, next on Sick, Sad World!"

As the TV cut to a commercial, Teddy and Rachel made conversation.

"God, I hope Grandpa Jake never sees this one," Teddy quipped.

Rachel didn't miss a beat. "You mean he hasn't tried to serve human stew yet!"

"Well," Teddy deadpanned, "If Timmy doesn't snap out of his black nationalist phase soon, he may be the one who goes into the stew pot. Both of my parents are already on the war path over the issue."

"Timmy's a black nationalist," said a surprised Rachel, "He looks pretty white to me, or did your parents adopt a black kid with vitiligo."

"Cute," said Teddy in a sarcastic tone. "Seriously, though, this started right after Daryl lectured about black history at school the other day. Apparently, Timmy's class got the Black Panther version of the lesson instead of the NAACP version that we had. I think it has something to do with Kevin Jr. being in class that period."

Rachel immediately understood. "Daryl's upset that he can't tell Junior that he's his real father and is using the race card to vent his frustration."

Teddy nodded. "Apparently, Mrs. Thompson's blocking all contacts in an attempt to insure that Mr. Thompson never finds out about her and Daryl's past affair. Now that she's no longer banging Daryl on the side, Mrs. Thompson just wants to sweep everything under the rug and Daryl wanting to bond with their love child is getting in the way of her free out." Teddy sighed before continuing. "You know, there's one way Daryl could fix this. He could just tell Mr. Thompson about his own hand in the creation of Kevin Jr."

Rachel stifled a giggle. "I'd like to be there for that conversation." She deepened her voice in an attempt to mimic Daryl. "Hey, Kevin, just thought you'd like to know that I spent fifteen years banging your wife right under your nose and Kevin Junior's actually the result." She resumed talking in her normal voice. "That's gonna go over REALLY well," Rachel finished in a sarcastic tone.

"I wonder what would upset Mr. Thompson more," Teddy mused, "The betrayal, or his being too stupid to notice the obvious."

Teddy then switched back to the subject of Timmy.

"Getting back to my idiot brother, Timmy's accusing all of us of being racist slavers. He hates white people with the same passion that white supremacists hate all other races."

Rachel stifled another giggle. "So, he's basically a white Uncle Ruckus now."

"I actually pointed that out," said Teddy, "and Timmy responded by calling me a tool of the white supremacist power structure."

Rachel, who's mixed race (White/East Asian), snorted with amusement. "Sure," she said in a sarcastic tone while she pointed to herself, "Because lots of white supremacists have a half-Asian girl...best friend."

Teddy didn't notice Rachel's near slip. "I actually told Timmy exactly that, and he said that's why all the other kids hate us."

"Funny," Rachel quipped, "I always thought we were outcasts because you're a brain and I'm a weirdo art geek."

The two kids meet each other's gaze. They start to lean in when...

"Show's back on," said Teddy.

They pulled apart and resumed watching TV.

Were we about to..nah, I'm reading too much into things Rachel thought.

Teddy had a thought of his own. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she wanted to kiss me just now. Teddy then shook his head. Dammit, Teddy, stop thinking about your best friend like that!

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Timmy was in the school hallway taping a large homemade poster on the wall. The poster consisted of a very badly drawn black fist raised in the air with the words "BLACK POWER: THE STRUGGLE'S NOT OVERRR!" written in all caps. He'd just taped the last corner on when the history teacher, Mrs. Tyler, approached. She was less than thrilled at what Timmy had just prominently put up on the wall.

"Timmy Carbone," said the teacher in a stern tone, "Just what do you think you're doing!?"

Timmy explained. "I honor of Black History Month I've decided to raise awareness of the black man's continuing struggle against the white man's oppression."

Mrs. Tyler rolled her eyes.

"Timmy, while I appreciate you being so passionate about a cause I'm afraid you're going about it the wrong way."

"Whaddaya mean," asked Timmy, "I'm raising awareness of an important issue."

"And violating school policy in the process," Mrs. Tyler pointed out. "If you'd bothered to read the code of student conduct then you'd know that posters on the walls have to be pre-approved by the school administration, and I KNOW they didn't okay this. If you don't take that poster down, I'll be forced to give you a demerit."

Timmy was adamant. "Because I'm waking people up to the truth about how our country thrives on racism!"

"Because you're defacing school property," Tyler fired back, "And dangerously close to being sent to the principal's office after that comment. Take the poster down...now!"

Timmy knew she wasn't bluffing.

"Fine!"

He then proceeded to take down the poster. No sooner had Mrs. Tyler left when Timmy was approached by Tommy, Shane, Al, Lou and Kevin Jr. None of the popular boys appeared happy to see him.

"Timmy," said Tommy, "Just what the hell are you doing!?"

Timmy answered, "Raising awareness of the plight of black people."

"Titty," Shane taunted, "Have you looked in a mirror lately. You're white!"

"Yeah, man," added Kevin Jr. "Why are you acting so weird?"

"Junior," said Timmy, "You were in class with me when Mr. Johnson told us the truth about the black man's struggle."

Kevin Jr. shrugged. "I wasn't paying attention 'cause that stuff's lame."

"Yeah," added Tommy, "and you're embarrassing me. You'd better not be acting weird like this at Mom and Dad's Super Bowl party!"

Timmy rolled his eyes. "Is that all you care about, Tommy? Football and popularity?"

"Duh," said Tommy, "It's bad enough that I have one weirdo brother. I don't need you going weird on me too. I've got my status to think about. I'm the freaking quarterback, for chrissake!"

"Titty," Shane commanded, "You can't hang out with us until you stop acting like you're one of the homeys."

"Yeah," said Al.

Added Lou, "It's too damn weird."

As he rolled up the now taken down poster, Timmy remained defiant.

"Fine! You wanna keep playing into the racist power structure, GO AHEAD!!! Racist jerks!"

With that, Timmy angrily stormed off.

"God, I wish I was an only child," said Tommy with an eyeroll.

Casa Carbone, that afternoon...

Q Ruttheimer, Timmy's girlfriend, was walking towards the front door. She immediately rang the bell. A few seconds later, Quinn answered.

"Hey, Q," said Quinn.

"Hey, Mrs. Carbone," said Q, "Is Timmy home?"

"He's in his room," said Quinn, "Just go on up."

"Thanks."

Timmy's room, a minute later...

Timmy was sitting on his bed reading a book. The book was titled "The Complete Idiot's Guide to African History". Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," said Timmy.

Q entered.

"Hey, bae," she said, "I was wondering if we could hang out for a bit."

Timmy held up the book he was reading.

"Can't, babe. I gotta study."

Q looked at the book.

"Since when is that a textbook!?"

"It's not homework, Q," said Timmy, "It's for the Super Bowl party."

Q was visibly confused.

"Um...what?"

Timmy explained.

"I wanna raise awareness of the black man's struggle. Since the school's too racist to do it, I figure the Super Bowl party's the best place for a protest."

Q was unnerved, and a little embarrassed.

"Timmy, hon," she said, "Aren't we too young to be activists? We're only in Middle School, for crying out loud."

"Q," said Timmy, "as white people we have benefitted directly from the exploitation of black people. Every good thing we have is because of white privilege. We have raped, pillaged and burned a whole race of people to get where we are. Can't you see that?"

"Timmy," said Q, "It's sweet that you care about others, but isn't this a little...well...extreme?"

"Q," Timmy replied, "How can you not care about all of the crimes we've committed against the black man? Do you hate anyone who isn't lily white?"

Q took offense. "Hey, I've got nothing against black people, or any people of color, but this is too much! You're treating all of us like we've done something horrible!"

"Because we have," said Timmy, "I didn't know just how much of everything we have came from keeping the black man down until Daryl opened my eyes and woke me up to the truth. We ARE the problem."

"Timmy," said Q, "we're twelve!"

"So," Timmy spat back, "We just keep holding black people down!?"

Q rolled her eyes.

"Screw it! Call me when you're ready to start being my boyfriend again!"

With that, Q stormed out of the room in a huff.

Casa Carbone, Sunday evening...

Guests are at the Super Bowl party. Since Lawndale is in New Jersey, just about everyone was wearing Eagles jerseys. Timmy was the only one not dressed in team colors. In fact, he was wearing a black and green dashiki. Carrying a covered platter in his hands and a rolled-up poster under his arm, Timmy walked over to the refreshment table that Quinn had set up in the living room. He immediately placed the platter on the table. Quinn approached.

"Timmy," she said, "What are you doing? In fact, why the hell are you dressed like that? This is a Super Bowl party, not a Kwanza party!"

Timmy explained. "I made a traditional African dish to serve at the party. I heard about it in a YouTube video."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "So, you're still on this whole woke thing, huh?"

Timmy nodded. "That's why I'm dressed in traditional African clothes. I wanna honor the black man and raise awareness of his struggles under the white man's oppression."

With that, Timmy unrolled the poster and draped it over the front of the table, using his platter to hold it in place. The poster was an image of the African continent with a militant fist rising up from it. The caption under Africa read "Death to the White Man". Upon seeing this, Quinn angrily tore the poster down.

"HEY," said Timmy, "What gives, Mom!?"

"We're not having you embarrass us at this party, Timmy," said Quinn in a stern tone, "You wanna serve an African dish as a refreshment and dress like an African, fine! But black nationalist slogans are where I'm drawing the line."

At the front door, who should enter but Daryl. Daryl was actually holding a gift-wrapped skateboard under his arm.

In front of the TV, Jim, Kevin, Brittany and several others were watching the pre-game show.

"Well, this is it," said one of the sports commentators, "The biggest Sunday of the year...SUPER BOWL FIFTY-NINE!!! This year, we have the Philadelphia Eagles..."

Everyone at the party let out a raucous cheer.

"YEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

"...versus the Kansas City Chiefs."

"BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

"Which team will bring home the coveted Lombardi Trophy this year!? Tonight, we find out. ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!?!"

All of the guests chanted.

"EAGLES! EAGLES! EAGLES! EAGLES! EAGLES! EAGLES!"

At this point, Brittany saw that Daryl was at the party.

"EEP!"

Brittany immediately turned to Jim.

"What's Daryl doing here!?"

Jim was puzzled.

"You mean he's not here to see you!?"

"Not for a while, Jim," said Brittany.

"Like, I invited him," said Kevin, "I got some, like, really good news I wanna tell him."

"Um...That's nice babe," said a nervous Brittany, "Um, I need to talk to Jim for a second."

Kevin, as usual, suspected nothing. "Cool!"

Brittany then got up, grabbed Jim by the arm and practically dragged him out of earshot of everyone else.

"Brittany," said an irritated Jim, "What the hell!?"

"Jim," said Brittany, "I need a really big favor from you."

Jim raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Brittany smiled sweetly.

"Could you kick Daryl out?"

Jim rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration.

"Ugh, fine!"

With that, he walked over to Daryl.

"Daryl," said Jim, "I don't know what Kevin told you about this party, but..."

Daryl politely interrupted him.

"Relax, Jim. I know what this is about. It's about the other day, when we talked in my car."

"Um...what?"

Daryl explained. "I was crying, and it made you really uncomfortable."

Jim's eyes nervously scanned the room for a way out of this awkward conversation. He then saw Timmy hanging out by the refreshment table.

"Hey, Daryl, why don't you talk to Timmy for a bit? Um...later!"

With that, Jim beat a hasty retreat. Daryl then made his way to Timmy.

"Hey, Timmy."

Timmy smiled. "Hey, Mr. Johnson."

"What's with the Kwanza getup," asked Daryl.

Timmy explained. "After you opened my eyes, I decided to stage a protest. I'm trying to wake my people up to the struggles of your people."

Daryl found this mildly amusing. "I see. How goes the good fight?"

"Well..."

Daryl suddenly interrupted. "Hey, there's Kevin Junior!"

He then walked away from Timmy and towards Kevin Jr.

"Junior."

Kevin Jr. acknowledged Daryl.

"Oh, Hey, Mr. Johnson."

Brittany immediately got between Kevin Jr. and Daryl.

"Junior, go watch the game!"

She followed this up by practically shoving her son towards the TV. Taking the hint, Kevin Jr. joined the others by the TV. Brittany then proceeded to angrily get in Daryl's face.

"Daryl, what the hell are you doing here!?"

"I'm here to see my son," growled Daryl through gritted teeth, "I even bought him a skateboard!"

Brittany wasn't having it.

"You'll NEVER be Junior's father, so leave!"

Kevin suddenly approached the bickering ex-lovers.

"Yo, Daryl," said the former QB, "Glad I caught ya before kickoff, man! I've got some good news. I, like, talked to Mrs. Morgendorffer and she, like, told me the dude you're suing wants to settle."

Daryl was pleasantly surprised.

"He does!?"

Kevin nodded as he pulled a check out of his jacket and handed it to Daryl.

"Like, Helen told me to give this to you."

Daryl was instantly disappointed by the amount on the settlement check.

"$120-grand!? I was asking for five-million!"

"C'mon, dude," said Kevin, "120 g's is a lot!"

Daryl handed the check back to Kevin and frowned.

"Like," said Kevin, "What's wrong, dude?"

"Kevin Junior hates me," said Daryl with saddness in his voice.

"Like, why would he hate you," Kevin asked, "He barely knows you, dude."

That did NOT sit well with Daryl. In fact, Daryl was now so angry that he picked up a beer can from the counter and loudly tapped it with a spoon.

"MAY I HAVE EVERYONE'S ATTENTION!?"

That got the attention of everyone.

"I'd like to propose a toast," said a VERY angry Daryl as he cracked open his beer, "I'd like to propose a toast." Daryl raised his beer in the air. "TO THE WHITE MAN, WHO KIDNAPPED US FROM OUR HOMELAND, SOLD US INTO SLAVERY, WHO SHUTS US OUT OF SOCIETY, KEEPS US DOWN, RAPES OUR WOMEN AND STEALS OUR CHILDREN...ESPECIALLY OUR SONS!"

Misreading the room as usual, Kevin raised his own beer and smiled.

"LIKE, TO THE WHITE MAN!"

Quinn and Jim were visibly mortified as the situation was growing more awkward by the second. Quinn nervously scanned the room with her eyes, desperately seeking a way to defuse the situation before Daryl says something that's gonna ruin a lot of lives. That's when she saw Timmy still at the refreshment table.

"Um...Timmy," said Quinn, "If you have anything to say, now's a good time!"

Timmy stood up.

"Thank you for finally hearing the black man's voice. I have recently learned many things about Daryl's people and his heritage. I want to honor his African roots by inviting you all to try a traditional African dish. Granted, due to whitey's continued oppression of the black man I could not make the actual dish, but I was able to bake a cake that pays homage to Daryl's ancestry and heritage. I discovered on YouTube that there is a village in Uganda that serves human flesh as food. To honor Daryl's African heritage, I made this!"

Timmy took the cover off of the tray he'd brought out, revealing a cake made in the shape of a bloody severed human head.

"The African Cannibal Cake, a noble homage to the people eating people's of Africa!"

Everyone gasped in horror and disgust. Kevin Jr. immediately looks at Daryl.

"Gross, man! I didn't know blacks like to eat people!"

Daryl was especially horrified by this.

"Junior, don't listen to him!" He desperately placed his arms on Kevin Jr.'s shoulders. "THAT'S JUST AN UNFOUNDED RUMOR ON YOUTUBE!!!!"

Kevin Jr. pulled away from Daryl.

"DON'T TOUCH ME, YOU CANNIBAL PSYCHO!!!"

Daryl let out a pained gasp when Kevin Jr. said that. A second later, he ran out of the house crying.

Kevin, once again, misread the situation.

"DARYL!! YO, DARYL, WAIT UP!!!!"

Kevin ran out of the house after Daryl.

Teddy and Rachel decided to make with the color commentary.

"Leave it to Timmy to turn an awkward situation into a catastrophy," said Teddy.

Added Rachel, "It's my last birthday all over again."

The two exchanged smirks.

Act III
An apartment building on Dega Street, evening...

Kevin was frantically pounding on the door to Daryl's apartment, having followed him all the way from the Carbone's Super Bowl party.

"DARYL!! YO, DARYL, OPEN UP, MAN!!! DARYL, WE'RE MISSING THE GAME!"

It was at this point that a VERY upset Daryl finally opened the door.

"Kevin, I'm not going back there!"

"Come on, man," said Kevin.

"Kevin," Daryl growled, "Why'd you follow me all the way back to my place?"

"I, like, wanna apologise for what Junior said," Kevin explained, "My son's got, like, all the Thompson passion but none of the Thompson charm, dude!"

"Your son," said an outraged Daryl, "YOUR SON!!"

Kevin remains unaware that he's not Kevin Jr.'s biological father.

"Um, yeah. What about him?"

Daryl made a decision.

"Kevin, it's high time we had a talk about 'your' son!"

Daryl motioned for Kevin to enter the apartment.

"Please, come in."

Kevin entered the apartment. After this, Daryl closed the door and gestured towards the couch.

"Please, have a seat."

"Okay," said Kevin as he sat down.

Daryl took a deep breath to prepare himself for the bomb he was about to drop.

"Look, Kevin, sometimes even good people do bad things. Things happen, and we don't think how what we do will hurt innocent people. We just act on powerful urges. Urges for food...and sex. See, sometimes love isn't enough to keep someone faithful and...and..."

Try as he might, Daryl just couldn't bring himself to tell Kevin the truth.

"DAMMIT!!!"

In his anger, Daryl knocked down a table lamp.

"I can't believe this! You deserve better, Kevin! When I think of all the...well...I just get so mad and...and...SONOFABITCH!!!"

Daryl then punched the wall.

Kevin tried to calm his friend down.

"Dude, so Junior called you a cannibal. That doesn't mean it's true...um, does it?"

Daryl groaned in frustration.

"Of course it isn't true! That's just a racist stereotype created by Europeans to justify both colonialism and slavery! That cannibal village in Uganda is just an unfounded rumor. Any cultural anthroplolgist will tell you that cannibalism was NEVER a common practice in Africa."

"Cool," said Kevin. He then became nervous. "Like, about that cannibal town in Africa. Um...Do you know what town your ancestors are from?"

Daryl groaned in frustration.

"DAMMIT, KEVIN, I DON'T EAT PEOPLE," Daryl barked, "My God, that's like me calling you a cannibal just because Jeffery Dahmer was white!"

"Um...You've heard of that guy," asked a nervous Kevin.

"Kevin," said Daryl, "He was one of the most infamous serial killers of all time. Dahmer kidnapped, tortured and raped his victims. After killing them, he'd eat them."

Kevin became extermely nervous at this point.

"Um...You sure know a lot about this stuff. Uhh...You aren't hungry right now, are you?"

Daryl responded with a face palm and a frustrated sigh.

Casa Carbone...

Everyone was watching the game except for Quinn and Timmy. Quinn was giving Timmy a major tongue lashing.

"Dammit, Timmy," said Quinn, "How could you do something so disgusting!?"

"Mom," Timmy fired back, "We've raped and exploited the black man for centuries! All I did was try to honor Daryl's culture. White people have oppressed all others for far too long."

"But, cannibalism," said Quinn, "The African cannibal is just a racist stereotype and even if it wasn't...EWWWWWWW!"

"But," Timmy protested, "They do eat people in Uganda! I saw it in a YouTube video!"

Teddy, having overheard, added his two cents. "Oh, well, if they made a YouTube video about it then it must be true," he deadpanned.

Both Quinn and Timmy stared daggers.

"Teddy," said Quinn, "I'm really not in the mood right now."

Teddy walked away. After this, Quinn turned her attention back to Timmy.

"Timmy, go to your room and stay there!"

"Hey," Timmy fired back, "You don't own me! I'm a person, not property and..." Timmy sighed and waved his hand dismissively. "What's the use? Look who I'm talking to!"

"You're talking to your mother, young man," Quinn barked, "and I'll not have you being disrespectful to me, Timothy James Carbone!"

"Fine," said Timmy with an eye roll. He then turned around and went to his room.

As Quinn watched Timmy go up the stairs she folded her arms and silently fumed. It was then that someone tapped Quinn's shoulder from behind.

"Quinn," said Brittany, "Can I, like, talk to you in private?"

Quinn sighed, knowing full well what this was about.

Home Office, a short time later...

Quinn and Brittany were having some one-on-one conversation.

"Brittany," said Quinn, "This is about your ex-lover crashing the party and causing a scene, isn't it?"

Brittany nodded. "It was, like, weird enough that my husband is friends with the guy I used to do on the side, but now Daryl's insisting on having a relationship with Junior."

"Duh," said Quinn, "Daryl's his real father. Don't you think he'd want to spend time with his son?"

"NEVER," Brittany barked, "No way in hell am I letting Daryl be around Kevie Junior!"

"Why," asked Quinn, despite already knowing the answer.

"Because," said Brittany, "I'm afraid Daryl's gonna tell Junior that Kevie's not really his father and I've been cheating on Kevie."

Quinn folded her arms. "As I've said numerous times over the years, you should've thought of that before hopping into the sack with another man."

"I just want this all to go away," said Brittany, "Now that Kevie and I are back on track, I just want Daryl gone and pretend that affair, like, never happened."

"Well," said Quinn, "There's no way that's gonna happen. Not only are Daryl and Kevin friends now but there's the fact that Kevin Jr.'s the result of your fifteen-year affair and all the Daryl-blocking in the world isn't going to change that. You're just a selfish bimbo who doesn't wanna deal with the consequences of your actions."

Brittany stared blankly.

"What?"

Quinn sighed. While Brittany's a lot more intelligent than her husband, she's still pretty dumb.

"Look," said Quinn, "Because they're friends now, I really don't think Daryl's gonna tell Kevin that he used to bang you. If Daryl wants to bond with the child that he impregnated you with then it's really unfair for you to keep him from doing it. How many times can you block Daryl before he gets so fed up that he rats on you out of spite?"

Brittany twirled her hair on her finger in a desperate attempt to think.

"Um...uhhh..."

She then slumped her shoulders and sighed.

"I don't know. I...Look, what about Junior? What about Kevie? Kevie would be devastated if he found out I was banging another guy for fifteen years and Junior idolizes Kevie!"

Quinn thought about it.

"Yeah, no telling how Kevin would take a bomb like that and it'd probably traumatize Junior to find out that Kevin's not really his father."

Brittany sighed again. "I just wish there was a way outta this that didn't hurt anyone."

Quinn smiled as she got an idea.

"You know, Brittany, there just might be."

Brittany looked at Quinn questioningly.

"Look," said Quinn, "Just follow my lead."

Daryl's apartment, later...

Daryl was knocking on the bathroom door.

"Kevin, you alright," he asked, "You've been in there a long time."

Inside the bathroom...

Kevin was nervously sitting on the toilet lid.

"DARYL, PLEASE...uh...I mean I'm fine!"

Kevin then frantically dialed on his cell phone.

Meanwhile, at Casa Carbone...

The guys were all watching the game on TV.

"TOUCHDOWN, EAGLES!"

The guys all jumped up and cheered.

"YEAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

As they all sat back down, Jim's cell phone went off. Jim looked at the screen before answering.

"Kevin, where are ya, man? You're missing the game! The Chiefs just fumbled and Philly ran it in for a touchdown."

"HE'S GONNA EAT ME," Kevin frantically screamed on his end.

Jim was visibly puzzled by this.

"What?"

Daryl's apartment, that very moment...

Kevin was cowering in the bathroom as he called Jim for help.

"Daryl really is a cannibal! I, like, wanted to apologize for Junior calling him a cannibal and he, like, went Hannibal Lecture on me!"

Casa Carbone...

Jim was worried.

"You're at Daryl's!? Um...He didn't say anything...interesting, did he?"

Daryl's bathroom...

Kevin said, "He's, like, playing it really cool, man, but I think he's getting hungry! I, like, got so freaked that I locked myself in the bathroom! Daryl's probably, like, heating up a big pot to boil me in right now! YOU GOTTA GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!"

Casa Carbone...

Jim rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Okay, fine! I'm on my way."

Jim then hung up and left his seat.

The home office, a few seconds later...

Brittany and Quinn were both having a heart-to-heart with Kevin Jr.

"Whoa," said Junior, "I, like, never thought of it that way."

Quinn smiled proudly while Brittany was visibly relieved.

"Wow," said Brittany, "That was, like, easier than I thought!"

At this point, Jim entered.

"I hate to interrupt, but I gotta take off for a bit."

"Why," asked Quinn.

Jim explained. "Kevin just called me. He's over at Daryl's, scared outta his mind. I'm going to get him out before anything...awkward happens." Jim sighed. "Dammit, I'm gonna miss the end of the half!"

"No," said Quinn, "You won't. I'll get Kevin, you stay here and watch the game."

"Mrs. Carbone," said Kevin Jr., "Can I come along?"

Quinn looked at Brittany.

"It's alright with me," said the former cheerleader.

Suddenly, Timmy entered.

"I'm coming too!"

"No," Quinn hissed, "You aren't, and I told you to stay in your room!"

Added Jim, "Also, haven't you caused enough trouble, Timmy?"

Timmy was insistent. "Look, you have to respect my rights! I'm not your property and I'm not going to tolerate our white privilige anymore!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Fine! We need to talk about this militant woke kick you've been on lately anyway!"

With that, Quinn, Kevin Jr. and Timmy all left.

A short time later...

Quinn's Cadillac was driving down the street. Quinn was driving while Timmy rode shotgun and Kevin Jr. sat in the back seat.

"Timmy," said Quinn, "I get that you sympathize with the plight of black people, but you're being way too extreme about it."

"I don't know how else to end the oppression of people of color," said Timmy, "Every good thing we have comes form our people raping and exploiting all other races!"

"But praising cannibalism," said Quinn, "First off, ewww! Second, it's wrong to eat people!"

Timmy wasn't having it. "Mom, I saw a YouTube video about cannibals in Africa! I even saw a short of a guy in Africa being stalked by a cannibal. You have to respect other cultures. Who are we to judge?"

"First of all," said Quinn, "I know all about that meme. It was recently proven to be fake. Second, that cannibal village in Uganda is just a rumor. Timmy, it's sick and wrong to eat other human beings!"

"Says you," Timmy spat in a defiant tone.

"Damn right, says me," said Quinn, "and I'll say it again: cannibalism is wrong, end of story!"

"Oh, sure," replied Timmy in a deadpan that'd make Daria proud, "But slavery, Jim Crow laws, racial discrimination and police brutality are perfectly fine!"

"No," said Quinn, "All that stuff's wrong too."

Timmy was both stunned and confused.

"But...Mom, we're white. Racism is part of our culture!"

"You know," said Quinn, "It's just as racist to assume I'm a racist just because I'm white. I've never treated a black person any differently from a white person. I've never judged a person by his or her skin color. I may have a problem with someone's total lack of fashion sense, but never their race." Quinn sighed before going on. "Look, Timmy, if you wanna be part of the solution then, instead of painting all white people with the same broad brush try treating people of color the same way you'd like to be treated. Don't make assumptions about someone just because of their skin color." She paused again before making her final argument. "Look, we both agree that treating black people like they're not human is wrong, can't we also agree that cannibalism's wrong?"

Timmy sat there looking thoughtful. Quinn allowed herself a smile as she'd clearly gotten through to him.

Daryl's apartment building, a short time later...

Quinn was knocking on the door to Daryl's apartment while Timmy and Kevin Jr. stood behind her. A second later, a visibly worried Daryl answered.

"Quinn, thank God you're here! Kevin's locked himself in the bathroom and won't come out!"

With that, Daryl let them into his apartment and closed the door behind him.

"Where's your bathroom," Quinn asked.

Daryl pointed to the bathroom door. He and Quinn walked over while Timmy and Kevin Jr. hung back. Quinn then knocked on the bathroom door.

"Kevin, it's Quinn!"

"AHHH," screamed Kevin from inside, "QUINN, HE'S A CANNIBAL!!! GET AWAY BEFORE HE EATS YOU!"

Quinn rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

"DAMMIT, KEVIN, DARYL'S NOT A CANNIBAL!"

"LIKE, HOW DO YOU KNOW!?"

Daryl let out a frustrated sigh before whispering in Quinn's ear so Kevin Jr. wouldn't hear what was being said.

"I can't believe Brittany left me for that idiot!"

Quinn rolled her eyes as she whispered back.

"Daryl, she didn't leave you for that idiot. She's been with that idiot since high school."

Quinn then resumed talking to Kevin through the door.

"LOOK, KEVIN, I SWEAR YOU WON'T GET EATEN IF YOU COME OUT!"

Reluctantly, Kevin opened the door and came out. He freaked when he saw the kids.

"Timmy, Junior," said Kevin, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES BEFORE HE DECIDES TO EAT YOU!!!"

"Dad," said Kevin Jr., "Mr. Johnson's not gonna eat anyone." He then turned to Daryl. "I...I'm sorry I called you a cannibal psycho, Mr. Johnson. I know you're not a cannibal. Mom told me. She told me a lot of things, actually."

Daryl was pleasantly surprised.

"She did!?"

Kevin Jr. nodded.

"She told me that black, white or whatever color we're still all, like, equal. We're all children of the same God so, in a weird way, we're like brothers, Mr. Johnson."

Daryl was touched. While Brittany clearly hadn't told the boy about his true biological parentage, she was at least willing to let Daryl be in Kevin Jr.'s life now.

Quinn confirmed this. "Look, Brittany thinks it'd be good for Kevin Junior to spend some time with you, like a big brother kind of situation. Thinks Junior could really benefit from having you as a mentor."

Daryl smiled and made his own decision. Since Brittany was willing to compromise then he might as well compromise too.

"You know, Kevin," said Daryl, "About my reparations suit. I think I will take that settlement money after all."

Casa Carbone, later that evening...

Everyone was back and watching the game. While Quinn and company were a little miffed about missing the halftime show they had made it back in time to watch the second half of the game.

"And that's game. THE PHILADELPHIA EAGLES HAVE JUST WON THE SUPER BOWL FORTY TO TWENTY-FOUR. PHILADELPHIA NOW HAS TWO LOMBARDI TROPHIES!!!"

Everyone stood up and cheered. They even sang the Eagles Fight Song. After the cheering, everyone else sat back down while Daryl remained standing.

"Everyone," said Daryl, "I have an announcement to make. I've decided to accept the settlement offer of 120 grand. To thank Kevin for all his help, I've decided to use the money to pay for Kevin Jr.'s college education."

"Whoa," said Kevin, "Like, thanks dude!"

Daryl went on. "What I don't spend on Junior's education I intend to put in a special trust that builds interest over time. I want Kevin to help me manage the trust fund. Upon my death, I want all that money to go to Kevin Jr."

"Dude," said Kevin Jr., "Like, thanks, Mr. Johnson."

"Please," said Daryl, "Call me D...Daryl." Daryl silently chided himself for almost saying Dad.

"Okay," said Junior, "Daryl."

"Dude," said Tommy, "Junior, it's like you have two dads!"

"Yeah," said Timmy, "and one of them's black."

Teddy silently smirked at the irony.

End Chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rejects Daryls advances in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the mall with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids shop with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Valentine's Daze"
written by
WildDogJJ

A house in Lawndale, Monday evening...

Stacy's brother, Adam Rowe, was quite the playboy. After work, he'd gone to the local bar. Now, he was coming home with a hot, buxom blond that he'd picked up. Adam and this girl struggled to keep their hands off of each other as they made their way from Adam's car to his house. He opened the door for her and led her into his bachelor pad.

Tuesday morning...

The blond hottie exited Adam's house looking both exhausted and satisfied, having spent most of the evening having some of the best sex of her life.

Tuesday evening...

Adam was now bringing a sexy brunette home.

Wednesday morning...

The sexy brunette leaves spent and totally satisfied.

Wednesday evening...

Adam was now bringing a beautiful red head home.

Thursday morning...

The red head leaves totally satisfied.

Thursday evening...

Now it's a hot black woman that Adam's bringing home.

Friday morning...

The hot black woman leaves with a satisfied smile on her face.

Friday evening...

Adam's bringing a sexy Latina home. Her screams of pleasure would be heard by the whole neighborhood.

Saturday morning...

The sexy Latina leaves, looking like she'd had the most blissful night of her life.

Saturday evening...

Now he's bringing home an Asian hottie.

Sunday morning...

The Asian hottie leaves so satisfied that no man will ever be able to please her again.

Sunday evening...

Tonight, Adam's bringing a pair of sexy Indian twins' home for a threesome.

I think we all get the idea. Adam Rowe gets a LOT of action in a typical week.

Glenfield Middle School, day...

Teddy and his best/only friend, Rachel White, are walking the halls. There are heart shaped decorations all over the place as Valentine's Day is coming up.

"Thank God we're in middle school now," said Rachel, "No more being forced to give Valentine's Day cards to all of my classmates, especially since I don't like any of them."

"Well," said Teddy, "We like each other, but only as friends."

"Um, Teddy," said Rachel, "Do you want me to give you a Valentine's Day card?"

"No," said Teddy, "Valentine's Day is just an artificial celebration of an unrealistic ideal that's done solely to keep the economy going."

"Spoken like a true romantic," said Rachel.

In another part of the hallway, Timmy and his girlfriend, Q, were walking.

"God, I love Valentine's Day," said Q, "It's sooo romantic."

"Yeah," said Timmy, "And you get free candy!"

Q was slightly put off by her boyfriend thinking about that first.

"You know, Timmy," said Q, "Boyfriends and girlfriends usually celebrate Valentine's Day by getting a present."

"Relax, bae," said Timmy, "I've got you one."

Q looked worried.

"Um...It's not like last year, is it?"

Timmy shrugged off the concern.

"Relax, Q. Now that I know the difference between perfume and cologne, I'm not making that mistake again."

Q was visibly relieved.

Teddy and Rachel, meanwhile, had overheard.

"I still can't believe your brother gave his girlfriend cologne last year," said Rachel.

Added Teddy, "And he's in for a rude awakening when he finds out girls aren't fans of after-shave either."

The two exchanged smirks as they approached Teddy's locker. Teddy immediately noticed something. That something was a note taped on the locker.

"What the hell!?"

Teddy took the note and read it out loud.

"I heart U, Teddy."

Rachel was curious.

"Who's it from?"

"It doesn't say," said Teddy.

Rachel smirked.

"Looks like you have a secret admirer."

Teddy deadpanned, "Who clearly has very low standards...or she's really desperate. I mean, who'd wanna hook up with the biggest outcast in school?"

Rachel said nothing but had a pained look on her face. Teddy didn't notice.

Casa Carbone, later that day...

Jim, Kevin, Chris, Jamie and Adam Rowe were hanging out in Jim's basement man cave. The topic of conversation was what they're doing for Valentine's Day.

"...so Quinn tells me she's working on some kind of surprise for me this year," said Jim.

"Dude," said Kevin, "Brit, like, actually wants to do something with me for Valentine's Day. Guess she wants to make up for lost time."

"Lost time," asked Adam.

"Yeah," said Kevin, "Last fifteen Valentine's Days she had to blow me off 'cause she always had a workout session with Daryl. Now that he's not training her anymore Brit wants to gimmie a night to remember."

The other guys frowned. Unlike Kevin, they all knew what Brittany and Daryl were really doing those last fifteen Valentine's Days. None of them said anything, though, on account of Brittany was no longer banging Daryl on the side.

Chris immediately broke the tension.

"I've got a date on Valentine's Day this year."

"That's great, bro," said Jim, "Who is she?"

Chris became nervous.

"Um...You don't know her!"

Jim sighed.

"You made her up, didn't you?"

Chris frowned.

"Yes."

This surprised no one. After the Taylor Swift thing a few months ago, Chris went back to being his perpetually lonely self.

"That reminds me," said Adam as he looked at his watch, "I gotta go. I've only lined up one of my Valentine's hookups for this year. Later."

Adam left in a hurry.

"Dude," said Kevin, "I, like, feel bad for Adam. I mean, I've got a hot babe who's been true to me since high school."

Except for the fifteen years she was banging Daryl on the side, thought Jamie. Out loud, he said, "Kevin, Adam's not really the type to settle down with one woman."

Added Jim, "He celebrates Valentine's Day several times with several different women."

"Yeah," said Chris, "That Adam, running around like a horny fool. I could just cry for him." Chris then looked both sad and envious. "In fact, I think I'm gonna do that."

Jim immediately changed the subject.

"Jamie, you and Nicole have anything special planned?"

"I don't know," said Jamie, "Every time I bring it up lately, she completely changes the subject."

Chris frowned. "Why does everyone else get to be happily married while I don't? Why does Adam get every woman he wants while they don't even look at me? I...I...IT'S NOT FAIR!!!"

Chris ran out of the basement, crying the whole time. The other guys just exchanged awkward looks.

A short time later...

Chris was driving his car in an attempt to clear his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention.

"What the hell?"

He was passing by the White residence. Adam Rowe's Corvette was parked in the driveway.

What's Adam doing at Jamie's Chris silently asked himself. He then saw Adam emerge from the house, accompanied by Nicole. Nicole had a huge smile on her face.

What the hell's going on Chris wondered as he saw Nicole hug Adam.

Oh...my...GOD!!

Casa Carbone, the next day...

Quinn and Nicole were chatting over tea.

"Wow," said Quinn, "So, for Valentine's Day you and Jamie are gonna have dinner at That's Amore followed by a weekend stay at Le Grande's Honeymoon Suite!"

Nicole nodded excitedly. "Yep, Adam Rowe's promiscuity really paid off. He's doing the hostess at That's Amore and another one of his squeezes works the front desk at LeGrande. He was able to wrangle those perks for us. Heck, when he came over yesterday to give me the reservations, I was so grateful that I actually hugged him."

"I can see that," said Quinn, "You and Jamie get to have a romantic weekend for free."

"Not entirely," said Nicole, "I had to agree to have my next oil change at Rowe Automotive. Good thing Jim's taking a break from cars, or he'd be crushed."

"He's a good sport," said Quinn, "I don't think it'd phase him either way."

"By the way," said Nicole, "Thanks for taking Rachel for the weekend."

"No problem," replied Quinn, "It's the least I could do."

"What are you and Jim doing for Valentine's Day," asked Nicole.

Quinn answered. "Dinner at Chez Pierre, followed by a romantic walk in the park and a trip to the old quarry to re-live our more youthful hijinks."

Nicole stifled a giggle. "The old quarry, where half of Lawndale's unplanned pregnancies happen."

Both Quinn and Nicole laughed at the remark.

"Speaking of young love," said Quinn, "Apparently, Teddy has a secret admirer."

"I wonder if it's Rachel," said Nicole, "I'm beginning to think those two like each other as more than friends."

"Probably," said Quinn, "I'm beginning to suspect the same thing, despite their insistence that they're both just friends."

It was at this point that Teddy entered the kitchen.

"We ARE just friends," Teddy vehemently insisted. He then calmed down. "Hey, Mrs. White."

"Hi, Teddy," said Nicole.

"By the way, Mom," said Teddy as he handed some letters to Quinn, "Here's the mail."

"Thanks, Teddy," said Quinn as she quickly thumbed through the letters. Suddenly, Quinn saw one that caught her eye. "This one's for you."

Teddy took the letter Quinn handed to him.

"Hm, no return address, just my name typed in boldface," he said, "I've seen horror movies that start like this."

Teddy's eyes went wide as he read the letter. It was typed in large print and read as follows...

I THINK UR CUTE,
YOUR SECRET ADMIRER

Teddy responded with his Daria-like deadpan.

"It's nothing important, just a letter from my stalker."

Meanwhile, at Lawndale High...

Jamie sat at his desk grading tests (he's a history teacher). His disappointment grew as he looked at one.

"Idiot," he said, "Just once, I'd like to have a student who isn't a freaking idiot. No wonder DeMartino was always on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

Just then, he felt his cellphone vibrate.

"Thank God, an interruption."

Jamie took his phone out.

"Better not be another prank text from the quarterback."

The text message read as follows...

C Carbone: Jamie, meet me at the Liquid Dinner after work. It's urgent.

Jamie sighed.

Might as well. Anyway, back to grading.

Jamie went back to grading tests. He sighed as he looked at the next one.

"Great," he muttered to himself, "Another freaking idiot."

The Liquid Dinner, a few hours later...

Chris was seated on a barstool nursing a beer when Jamie approached.

"Hey, Chris."

"Thanks for coming, Jamie."

The bartender approached.

"What'll it be, pal."

"Gimmie a beer," said Jamie.

As the bartender poured Jamie's beer, he sat on the stool next to Chris.

"So, what's this big emergency, man?"

Chris sighed.

"Jamie, I don't know how to say this, so I'll just flat out say it. I think Adam Rowe's putting the moves on Nicole."

Jamie gasped in shock.

Act II
The Liquid Dinner, evening...

Chris has just dropped a major bombshell on Jamie.

"What," exclaimed a shocked Jamie.

"I think Adam Rowe's trying to seduce Nicole," said Chris, "If he hasn't gotten her into bed already."

"You can't be serious," said a dumbfounded Jamie, "Nicole would never do that to me, and I've known Adam since high school."

"Then you know what a total skirt chaser Adam is," said Chris, "The women in this town who haven't slept with him at some point are few and far between."

"Yeah," said Jamie, "But even a horndog like Adam has standards. He's not gonna cuck an old friend, and Nicole would never do something like that to me."

"You know," said Chris, "That's what I told myself when I was married. Then I found out Brooke was cheating on me every chance she got."

"Dude," said Jamie, "I'm not a blind idiot like Kevin. I think I'd notice if something was going on."

"Look," said Chris, "After I got so depressed about being single on Valentine's Day, I went for a drive to clear my head. I happened to pass by your house and saw Adam there, right after he told us he was going on a date."

Jamie gasped as he began to wonder if maybe Chris might be onto something.

"I saw them hug," Chris continued, "I had to tell you. We just spent fifteen years watching Kevin live in denial about his marriage, I don't wanna go through that again. Jamie, you need to lawyer up, or you're gonna end up like me."

Jamie sat there in stunned silence. He didn't want to believe it, but all of the pieces seemed to fit.

White residence, later...

A despondent looking Jamie has just come in. He noticed something off.

Where is everybody?

He then made his way into the living room. Rachel was sitting on the couch watching TV. On the screen, a couple were sitting on a park bench. The man handed the woman a gift. She opened it to find a still-beating heart inside.

"Meet the man who gave his girlfriend a unique Valentine's Day gift...AN ACTUAL HEART! My Bloody Valentine, next on Sick, Sad World!"

"Rachel," said Jamie, "Where's your mother?"

"Said she had to run some errands," Rachel answered, "Won't be home 'til late. Told me to tell you to just defrost a pizza for dinner."

Jamie found this odd but decided not to say anything about it. Instead, he stuck with the subject of dinner.

"Okay, I gotta hit the bathroom real quick. Meantime, you get the pizza out."

"Okay, Dad," said Rachel as she got off the couch and made her way to the kitchen.

The bathroom, a short time later...

Jamie was washing his hands when he noticed one of the drawers was slightly ajar. He was about to close it when something caught his eye.

What's this?

He opened the drawer all the way and took out the dinner and hotel reservations that Nicole got from Adam. Not knowing that it's a Valentine's surprise for him (or bothering to look closely and see his own name on the reservations), Jamie drew the worst possible conclusion.

Chris was right!!!!

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

It was lunch time, and the kids were all in the cafeteria. As usual, Teddy and Rachel were sitting by themselves at the unpopular table.

"So," said Rachel in a sly tone, "Your secret admirer knows where you live."

"You mean stalker," said Teddy, "and yes."

"Teddy," said Rachel, "What if your secret admirer is someone you know? You know, maybe someone who likes you and is afraid to say so."

"Yeah, right," said Teddy, "I don't know anyone like that."

"Well," said Rachel, "Then maybe it is some psycho who wants to go Fatal Attraction on you." Suddenly, something else caught Rachel's attention. "Uh-oh, Shane alert!"

Sure enough, Shane Sloane was approaching. As usual, he was accompanied by his lackeys Al and Lou.

"Well, well, well," said Shane in a mocking tone, "The brain's got a secret admirer. What kind of chick wants a freak like you?"

"I've been asking myself that all day," said Teddy, "And how do you know about this?"

"Duh," said Shane, "Tommy's been telling everyone."

Teddy sighed. "Dammit, Tommy!"

As if that weren't enough, Kevin Jr. now approached.

"Dude, is it true!?"

"Yes," Teddy sighed, "It's true, idiocy is hereditary."

"Not that, man," said Kevin Junior, "I mean that you have a secret admirer."

Teddy sighed. Being stalked was bad enough, but now he's the top story in the school's gossip mill. Just then, Julie, Jenny and Janey (Tommy's version of the three J's) approached.

"Hey," said Julie, "Tommy's weird cousin, we just heard."

Added Jenny, "You actually have a secret admirer!?"

Janey said, "How'd that happen?"

"Gee, I don't know," said Teddy, "Is it one of you?"

All three: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!!!"

"No way," said Julie.

"We like Tommy," said Jenny.

"You're a sick freak," said Janey.

"Thank you for your honesty, Jessie," said Teddy.

"I'm Janey," said Janey.

That's when Tommy approached.

"Hey, what's with wanting to talk to my weirdo bro...cousin."

The girls instantly forgot Teddy.

"TOMMY," they excitedly chanted in unison.

Teddy just sighed.

"So, this is what it's like to be popular. It's overrated."

White residence, evening...

Jamie, Nicole and Rachel were at the kitchen table having dinner. Jamie was eyeing both his wife and daughter with suspicion. Nicole was the first to notice.

"Something on your mind, Jamie?"

"Nothing," said Jamie with a sigh, "Anything interesting happen here today? Any visitors?"

Nicole shook her head. "No, I was at Quinn's most of today. We're doing another collab video."

Without preamble, Jamie whipped out his cellphone and dialed a number. Nicole and Rachel exchanged puzzled looks as this behavior was out of character.

"Quinn," said Jamie, "It's Jamie. Nicole said you guys were working on a collaboration today. That true?" Jamie listened for a few seconds. "No, I was just curious. Um...What's it about?" Another pause. "I see. Sounds interesting. Thanks, later." With that, Jamie hung up with a relieved look on his face. "Quinn just confirmed your story."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "Jamie, what the hell's gotten into you?"

"Why, Nicole," said Jamie in a hostile tone, "What ever do you mean?"

Nicole explained. "You've been giving me the silent treatment for the last two days. I just told you what I did today and you immediately call Quinn to confirm it. You're acting like I'm hiding something from you."

"Maybe you are," said Jamie in a hostile tone.

Nicole was both nervous and confused. She was nervous because she is hiding something, but not what Jamie thinks. She's hiding a Valentine's Day surprise for him. She was confused because she'd never known Jamie to be this cagey with her.

"Jamie," said Nicole, "What's with you? Why are you acting like I have something to 'fess up to?"

"Do you," asked Jamie in a pleading tone.

"No," Nicole answered truthfully.

Rachel sat there in awkward silence, though she can tell that something's up.

"I see," said Jamie in a disappointed tone as he stood up from his seat. He then got his motorcycle helmet and keys.

"Where are you going," asked Nicole.

"Out," Jamie barked as he left too quickly for Nicole to ask any other questions.

Nicole and Rachel listened awkwardly to the sound of Jamie starting his Kawasaki motorcycle and then leaving.

"Mom," said Rachel, "What's with Dad?"

"I have no idea," said Nicole, "You didn't tell him about the Valentine's surprise I have planned, did you?"

Rachel shook her head. "I'm getting a weekend with my boy...best friend outta the deal. No way I'd screw that up." Dammit, Rachel, you're just friends!

Nicole once again raised an eyebrow as she was beginning to suspect that her daughter liked Teddy as more than just a friend. She said nothing about that, though, choosing instead to stick to the subject of her husband acting weird.

"I don't know what's with your father," said Nicole, "I mean, it's like he thinks I'm seeing someone else or something."

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Teddy and Rachel were walking the hallway on the way to class. Rachel was telling him about the tense situation at home.

"...so Dad came back a few hours later. Mom tried to get him to open up, but he just shut her down. Dad was so upset that he actually slept on the couch last night."

"So," said Teddy, "Your parents are getting a divorce?"

"Nope," said Rachel, "But Dad's acting really weird. I don't think he knows about Mom's present for him, but I think that he thinks she's having an affair."

"Sounds like a sitcom misunderstanding to me," said Teddy.

Rachel nodded. "But enough about my dysfunctional home life. What's going on with you?"

"The usual," said Teddy, "My brother's annoy me, my parents don't get me, and..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. "...my stalker dropped this in the mailbox. As usual, it's typed and there's no return address."

Rachel took the letter and read it aloud.

"Teddy, I'm coming over Valentine's Day to show you who loves you so much, your secret admirer."

Teddy eyed Rachel with suspicion, which she noticed.

"What," asked Rachel.

"Well," said Teddy, "It occurs to me that you're sleeping over this weekend while your parents do the nasty at a hotel. Valentine's Day's on a Friday. One might wonder if it's you who's sending me these letters."

Rachel was taken aback. "Teddy, I'm not the stalking type. Admiring from a distance and suffering in silence are more my thing."

"True," said Teddy, "But you're definitely gonna be at my place this weekend."

"Not so definitely," said Rachel, "Given the way my Dad's been acting the last few days."

Suddenly, someone came up behind them and snatched the letter.

"HEY," said Rachel.

They turned around to see Tommy, his three open admirers Jenny, Janey and Julie, Timmy, Q, Kevin Jr., Shane and his lackeys Al and Lou all standing behind them. Tommy was the one who snatched the letter.

"So," said Tommy, "Your secret admirers actually gonna show up at our house."

"Dude," said Timmy, "We actually get to meet her!?"

Added Shane, "This we gotta see."

"Two words," said Teddy, "No and way."

Al then grabbed Teddy's right arm while Lou grabbed his left. They then stood Teddy up while Shane gets in his face.

"We weren't asking, brain," Shane threatened.

Added Kevin Jr., "'C'mon, man. I mean, how many times are we gonna see something like this."

Pleaded Q, "Even my brother's curious."

"Just great," said Teddy, "I have to invite all of you guys to my place AND include Chucky Ruttheimer on the guest list."

All the other kids: "YES!!"

Teddy sighed in defeat.

"Tommy, I don't know how you handle being popular. It sucks."

"Duh," said Tommy, "I'm not the freak you are. Now, let me show you how a REAL popular guy handles this situation." He turned to the other kids. "PARTY AT MY PLACE!!!"

All other kids: "AWRIGHT!!!"

Teddy sighed. "Could this be any more awkward."

Act III
White residence, night...

Jamie and Nicole were sleeping in their bed. While Nicole slept soundly, Jamie was tossing and turning.

Jamie's dream...

Jamie walked towards his house with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. He had a huge smile on his face as he opened the front door and entered.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Nicole!"

Jamie looked around and was surprised to find no one there.

"That's weird. Where is everybody?"

That's when he heard Nicole's voice coming from upstairs.

"Oh...GOD...ah..."

Jamie's eyes went wide.

"Nicole!?"

"Oh...YES...soo...AH..."

Thinking his wife might be in trouble, Jamie hurried up the stairs. As he did, he heard Nicole's voice again.

"Oh...baby...right...there...yes...yes...YES..."

Jamie charged right through the door and was horrified at the sight of his wife having sex with Adam Rowe and loving it.

"Oh...Adam...baby...feels...so...soooo...GOOD...YES...OHGODYES!!!"

"WHAT THE HELL," Jamie angrily shouted at the top of his lungs.

Nicole and Adam stopped having sex and seperated. They looked mockingly at Jamie, using the bedsheets to cover their nakedness.

"Hey, Jamie," said Adam, "I guess you had to find out sometime."

Jamie glared menacingly at Adam.

"WHAT!?!"

He then lunged at Adam so hard that his stumps popped out of his prosthetic legs and he fell face first on the floor.

"Why, Nicole," said Jamie in a pained voice, "WHY?"

"Because," answered Nicole with a sadistic grin, "After sixteen years of being married to a legless freak like you, I need a real man. Adam's whole...and a way better lay than you ever were."

"She's given you enough pity," said a smirking Adam, "and she's a very sexy Asian."

"Sorry, Jamie," said Nicole, "but I was only with you because I felt sorry for you. I need real sex, not the pity screws I've been giving you."

"By the way," added Adam, "I'm Rachel's real father."

Nicole and Adam then kissed passionately as she climbed on top of him, and they resumed having sex right in front of Jamie.

Reality...

Jamie woke up with a start.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

That caused the sleeping Nicole to wake up.

"Whu...Whuz 'rong...yawn...b..bae?"

Jamie nervously looked at his wife.

"Um...nothing."

Too tired to think anything of it, Nicole promptly fell back asleep. Jamie just sat awake in bed and sighed.

Crap.

Pizza King, the next day...

Nicole and Stacy were chatting over lunch. Nicole looked like she was a million miles away, which Stacy noticed.

"Nicole," said Stacy, "You look like I felt after that time I misred the teleprompter during a live broadcast that one time."

For those who don't know, Stacy's an anchor at the local news station.

"I'm worried," said Nicole, "about Jamie. He's been acting weird the last few days. He keeps asking me questions about your brother."

"Really," said Stacy, "What kind of questions?"

"Leading questions," Nicole answered, "It's almost like he thinks I'm hiding something, and it has something to do with Adam."

Stacy looked a little awkward. "Well, I'm fully aware of Adam's player lifestyle. Maybe Jamie thinks he's eyeing you as a potential sexual conquest."

"Yeah, right," said Nicole, "Adam's never made a move on me and even if he did I know him too well to fall for all those lines he uses to get other women to jump in the sack with him. Besides, Jamie knows I'd never do something like that to him."

"Does he," asked Stacy, "I ask because guys can be kinda dense about that kind of thing. One time, we had a really hot college guy interning at the station. Heck, if I were single and it weren't a violation of station policy I might've actually considered sleeping with that guy. As it was, after Chuck saw him he felt so threatened that I had to constantly reassure him that I wasn't cheating with the intern."

"I see," said Nicole.

At this point, who should pass by but Chris. He glared menacingly at Nicole.

"Hello, adulteress!"

Nicole took offense.

"Excuse me!"

"You heard me," said Chris, "Don't try to deny it!"

"Deny what," asked Stacy.

Chris answered. "That she's cheating on her husband with your brother!"

Nicole was stunned. "Chris, what the hell makes you think I'm doing Adam Rowe on the side."

Chris got right in Nicole's face.

"Don't play innocent with me, you little skank! I saw you hug Adam Rowe the other day!"

Nicole gasped. "You saw that!?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah! I've kept my silence about Brittany and Daryl, but I'm not gonna keep silent about your infidelity! How could you do that to one of my closest friends, you heartless bitch!?"

Nicole rolled her eyes. "Chris, I hugged Adam because I was greatful for his help securing a Valentine's Day gift for Jamie."

Chris went pale as he realized that he may have jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Stacy explained further. "Nicole came to me for help coming up with a Valentine's Day gift for Jamie. I mentioned that two of the women Adam's currently doing are a hostess at That's Amore and a check in lady at LeGrande Hotel. We then approached Adam and asked him to use those connections to get a free romantic dinner and weekend for Nicole and Jamie."

"The day I hugged Adam," Nicole continued, "He'd just dropped off the reservations for Jamie and I. That's why I hugged him, I was grateful."

"Chris," said Stacy, "You should know that my brother considers married women off-limits."

Chris blushed with embarrassment.

Meanwhile, at Glenfield Middle School...

Teddy and Rachel were eating lunch at the school cafeteria. The topic of conversation was Teddy being forced to have their entire class over just because they all want to know who his secret admirer is.

"Well," said Teddy, "Tonight's the night it happens."

"What," said Rachel, "True love, or public humiliation?"

"Definitely the latter," said Teddy, "and if you're the one sending me those letters, now's the time to back out."

"It's not me," said Rachel. But I wish it was. Her eyes went wide. Did I really just think that!?

"Okay, then," said Teddy, "At least you get a front row seat to what could very well be my murder." Why am I wishing it was Rachel sending me those letters? Teddy then shook his head. Dammit, Teddy, she's your best friend! Stop thinking about Rachel like that!

It was at this point that he tried to change the subject.

"So," said Teddy, "Is your Dad still acting weird? You know, more than usual."

Rachel nodded. "When Mom told him she had an oil change appointment this afternoon at Rowe Automotive, Dad gave her this scary look before angrily charging out of the house."

Teddy instantly put the pieces together. "Given Mr. Rowe's playboy reputation, how much you wanna bet your father's gonna go there to kick his ass."

"God, I hope not," said Rachel, "My life's awkward enough as it is."

Rowe Automotive, that afternoon...

Jamie was angrily making his way through the lobby with his motorcycle helmet in hand. He marched towards the employee lounge.

"Sir," said the receptionist, "You can't go back there."

Jamie ignored her as he charged into the lounge. On the other side of the lounge was Adam's office. Jamie burst right through the door. Adam looked up from his desk.

"Yo, Jamie," said Adam, "What's up?"

Jamie, his face a mask of jealous rage, swung his helmet at Adam, hitting him across the face so hard that it koncked him out of his chair and gave him a bloody mouth and nose.

"JAMIE, WHAT THE HELL," shouted Adam after spitting some blood from his mouth.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE, YOU F@#$ING HORNDOG!!!!"

Adam was confused.

"JAMIE, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?!"

"YOU KNOW GODDAMN WELL WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, ASSHOLE!!"

Consumed by rage, Jamie began to swing his helmet down and beat Adam senseless with it. He was about to bring it down on the now barely conscious Adam again when...

"JAMIE, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?!"

The sound of Nicole's voice snapped Jamie out of his rage.

"NICOLE, HOW COULD YOU SCREW AROUND ON ME WITH HIM!?!"

"DAMMIT, JAMIE," Nicole shouted, "I'M NOT CHEATING ON YOU!!"

"Chris saw you guys hugging the other day, and I found those reservations in the bathroom," Jamie barked, "YOU'RE GONNA DITCH ME ON VALENTINE'S DAY TO HAVE A ROMANTIC WEEKEND WITH THIS ASSHOLE!!"

"Dammit, Jamie," Nicole fired back, "Those reservations are for US!!!"

"I...it's true," Adam meekly said as he wiped blood from his nose.

Jamie gasped in shock. "Wh...What!?"

Nicole explained. "Jamie, Stacy asked her brother to help me get a Valentine's Day gift for us."

Added Adam, "Th...That's right." He then stood up and explained further. "I...One of the hotties I'm banging is a hostess at That's Amore, so I convinced her to hook you guys up with reservations for dinner tonight. I'm also doing one of the desk workers at LeGrande Hotel and got her to book reservations for you guys at the honeymoon suite."

Nicole reached into her purse and pulled out the reservations. "Did you even bother to look at the names when you saw these? They clearly say Mr. and Mrs. White, not Rowe."

She handed the reservations to Jamie and he read them thoroughly. They did indeed say Mr. and Mrs. White.

Nicole went on. "When I was having lunch with Stacy earlier Chris ran into us and told me everything. That's why you've been acting so weird the last few days, isn't it?"

Thoroughly embarrassed, Jamie nodded. "I...I..." He then turned towards Adam. Jamie felt intense guilt as he saw how much he'd bloodied Adam's face. "S...Sorry, man. I...I.."

Adam accepted the apology. "It's okay, man. You thought I was putting moves on your wife. I'd've done the same thing in your situation." He wiped some blood from hin nose and lip before going one. "Besides, what's a fat lip, bloody nose and mild concussion among friends."

"Jamie," said Nicole, "Not only am I supremely embarrassed by what you just did, but I'm also deeply hurt by what you've been thinking. We've been together for eighteen years, sixteen of them as husband and wife. Our marriage has been tested in ways most marriages aren't and we've always emerged a stronger couple because of it. We have a nice house, a wonderful daughter, a wonderful life. How could you even think I'd turn my back on all of that for some player who'd only see me as another notch in his bedpost?"

Jamie sighed and hung his head in shame. "I...I'm sorry. It's...well, it's not just Adam's love 'em and leave 'em lifestyle. I...Well, I guess even after all of this time I still wonder why a hottie like you is into a guy like me."

"You mean," said Nicole, "A wonderful guy who treats me like a queen, gets me like no one else does and is a great father to our daughter? Jamie, I'm the one who leveled up. You're the kind of guy I'd always dreamed of spending my life with."

Jamie was visibly moved by his wife's sentiment.

"Look," Nicole continued, "Next time you're having doubts, try talking to me before you go crazy and try to bash a guy's skull in with a motorcycle helmet."

"I can do that," said Jamie, "Nicole, I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Your forgiven," said Nicole in a reassuring tone.

Jamie then turned to Adam. "Sorry about the head bashing, man."

Adam shrugged. "S'okay, man. It's not the first time I've been physically assaulted by a jealous guy and probably won't be the last either."

Nicole and Jamie couldn't help laughing at the joke.

Casa Carbone, evening...

Teddy paced around the living room in front of his brothers, Rachel and all the uninvited guests (Kevin Jr., Q, Chucky, Jenny, Julie, Janey, Shane, Al and Lou). He then looked at his watch.

"She said seven o'clock," said Teddy.

"Maybe she won't show," said Rachel.

"She'd better show," said Tommy.

Added Shane, "I'm so gonna have Al and Lou kick your ass if we came here for nothing."

Chucky then spoke to Shane in his usual monotone.

"You don't fight your own battles."

It was at this point that the doorbell rang.

"Everyone, hide," said Tommy.

As the kids all ducked into the next room, leaving the door open a crack so they could watch, Teddy took a deep breath to steel his nerves.

"Here goes nothing."

With that, Teddy opened the door. He gasped in shock when he saw who it was.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my sweet little grandson," said Helen Morgendorffer. "I'm your secret admirer."

"Gr...Grandma Helen!?"

"That's right, Teddy," said Helen, "I sent you those letters because you're such an adorable little boy. Your parents and I thought it'd be cute to surprise you, my darling little grandson."

Helen then pulled Teddy into a hug, picked him up and kissed him on the cheek.

"How's my special little grandson," she said before giving the mortified Teddy another kiss on the cheek.

The other kids then emerged from their hiding place. They were all laughing their little butts off.

"Your grandmother loves you," said Chucky in his usual monotone.

LeGrande Hotel, later that evening...

Nicole and Jamie were in the honeymoon suite, which included a heart-shaped hot tub. Jamie and Nicole drank champagne while relaxing in the hot tub. They were naked, but the bubbles obscured anything NSFW.

"Nicole," said Jamie, "This is great."

"Happy Valentine's Day, lover," said Nicole as she and Jamie kissed.

"Nicole," said Jamie, "Sorry I was acting so crazy all this week."

"You don't have to apologize," she said, "In fact, now that I'm over the embarrassment I have to admit that seeing you get jealous like that was kind of a turn on."

"Really," said Jamie, "Even though I'm..." He nodded toward the prosthetic legs outside the tub. "...you know."

"Jamie," said Nicole, "You're just as sexy without the legs. Besides..." She pointed to her submerged breasts. "...you're not the only one here with fake body parts."

She was referencing the fact that her double-D's were surgically upgraded from B's when she was a teenager.

"Hey," said Jamie, "I'm not complaining. Your boobs are hot!"

"Thanks, stud," said Nicole in a seductive tone, "and with your prosthetic legs off, I don't have to worry about you running off when I get...frisky."

No more words were said. Nicole and Jamie kissed passionately as she climbed on him. I leave the details of what happened next to your own perverted imagination.

End Chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rejects Daryls advances in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the mall with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids shop with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Jim the Terminator"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I
Casa Carbone, morning...

Quinn, Jim and the triplets were sitting around the kitchen table having breakfast. As the family ate, they were discussing the day to come.

"So," said Tommy, "I probably won't be home until dinner 'cause after baseball practice me and the guys are gonna hit up the arcade."

Timmy proceeded to tell of his plans. "After Q gets done with cheerleading practice, she's coming over to help me with my homework."

Teddy immediately threw in his usual deadpan. "Because why learn when you can have your girlfriend do it for you."

Tommy sprang to his brother's defense. "Duh, Teddy. We're too popular to do our own homework. You'd know that if you didn't waste your life being a total freak."

"I'll remember you said that," Teddy fired back, "When I'm a best-selling author and you're still living with Mom and Dad because you peaked in adolescence."

"BOYS," Quinn barked, "Don't start!" She then calmed down. "I'm gonna be gone most of today. I have a meeting with sponsors this morning and I'm gonna spend the afternoon at the restaurant we co-own with Uncle Vito just to make sure he isn't running it into the ground."

"Cool," said Timmy, "Q and I want some alone time."

"Don't even think about it," said Jim, "I'm gonna be home all day. I gotta come up with some video ideas before YouTube's algorithm forgets that I exist."

Quinn said nothing but gave her husband a pitiful look. Jim pretended not to notice.

Later that day...

Jim was sitting in front of the TV in the living room with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. On the screen was an image of a homeless man begging in a rough part of town. This gives way to the homeless man in line at a corporate office. He's immediately given a check for ten-thousand dollars by the payroll manager.

"Meet the man who gets paid to panhandle on skid row," said the TV announcer, "Professional Hobos, next on Sick, Sad World!"

Jim let out a sigh. "I gotta get over this creative funk, fast!"

At this point both Timmy and Q enter. They both noticed Timmy's father vegging in front of the TV.

"What's with your dad," asked Q.

"I dunno," said Timmy, "He's been like this for a couple of months now. He totally lost interest in working on cars and hasn't done it in a while."

"I know," said Q, "I went to his channel yesterday and the most recent video is two months old."

"Mom's been ranting about that when Dad's not around," said Timmy, "She says Dad's letting his YouTube channel got to pot, whatever that means."

"Whoa," said Q, "Your dad's turning into Mr. Lane."

As the kids went upstairs Jim, having overheard, looked rattled.

Master bedroom, evening...

Quinn and Jim sat up in bed, preparing to go to sleep for the night. She noticed the morose look on her husband's face.

"Jim, honey, what's wrong?"

Jim sighed. "I'm turning into Trent," he lamented.

Quinn sighed. "Um...well..." She struggled to find a way to be honest without offending Jim. "...um...Look, Jim, ever since you lost your passion for cars you've just been lying around all day. I get that it's gone from being a calling to being some mundane thing, but you...Well, you seem to be getting lazier by the day."

"Gee, thanks," replied Jim in a sarcastic tone.

"Well, I'm sorry," said Quinn, "I've never seen you fail before. I don't know how to pity you without offending you."

Jim sighed. "It's true. I'm turning into Jane's lazy-ass brother. I tried shifting the focus of my channel and the clicks and likes fell way off. My channel isn't even on most feeds anymore. That's why I haven't made a new video since December." Jim let out a resigned sigh. "I have no choice. I have to get a regular nine-to-five."

Quinn had some reservations and proceeded to say so. "Jim, are you sure about that? I mean, you've been your own boss for the last seventeen years. How do you explain a gap like that on a resume, because you know most hiring managers consider self-employment the same thing as unemployment?"

"I get that," said Jim, "But I don't see any alternative. It's been months since I could come up with anything that people are interested in for YouTube. Now, it's at the point where I'm turning into a lazy bum. Either I get a real job, or I stay on this downward spiral."

Quinn had to admit that her husband had a point.

"Okay, but the odds of you actually landing a decent job are pretty slim." Suddenly, Quinn got an idea. "Tell you what, Jim. Tomorrow I'm meeting with the new sponsors again. I could ask them to give you a job."

Jim had his own reservations. "You sure? It kinda feels like I'm just passing the buck to you."

Quinn shrugged this off. "Jim, I signed on for better or for worse, so of course I'm gonna help you outta the worse."

Jim smiled. "Thanks, babe. Who is this sponsor?"

"AvTech," Quinn answered, "They're a major technologies firm. They started out in aviation, hence the name, but have since diversified into everything. You name it, AvTech makes it, and what they don't make they can invent. At the very least, a stint working for them could reignite your passion for machines."

Jim liked the sound of that and proceeded to say so. "Sounds good."

"Duh," said Quinn, "It's the slogan I'm gonna have to say in the videos they sponsor."

Jim stifled a chuckle.

Downtown Philadelphia, the next day...

Quinn was in the office of AvTech's CEO. The office was a very ornate penthouse suite with a commanding view of the city. Quinn sat in front of the CEO's large mahogany desk while the CEO sat behind it in a large leather chair. The CEO, a balding and overweight man of fifty years, was staring lustfully at Quinn. Quinn noticed the leering but said nothing. Quite the contrary, she was counting on him being attracted to her as it meant she could flirt some extra goodies into the endorsement deal that they were working on.

"So," said the CEO, "What do you think of my proposal?"

"It's nice," said Quinn in a flirty tone, "But not as nice as you."

The CEO blushed, which Quinn noticed.

Works every time thought the smirking Quinn. "Actually, I was wondering if..."

"I'd love to take you out to dinner," the CEO blurted like a lovesick puppy.

"No," said Quinn, "It's sweet of you to offer, and I would go out with you but..." Quinn held up her wedding ring.

The CEO sank in his chair. Quinn responded by giving him some false hope.

"It doesn't mean we can't be friends, though."

That gave the man a second wind. "I'd love that! Is there anything I can do to...I mean for you."

Trying not to laugh, Quinn said, "There is one thing."

"Name it," said the CEO in an eager tone more befitting a horny teenager than a captain of industry.

I am tooooo good at this thought Quinn with a triumphant smirk on her face.

Lawndale, a few hours later...

Jim was in his basement man-cave watching the pigskin channel when an excited Quinn entered.

"Good news, honey," said Quinn, "I got you a job!"

Jim excitedly leapt up from his seat and did a fist pump.

"Yes!" He then ran over to his wife and kissed her. "Thanks, babe," he said, "What am I doing? Research and development, or do they want me in manufacturing?"

Quinn suddenly frowned. "I'm sorry, babe, but to get you a job that cool I probably would've had to actually go on a date with the CEO or maybe even sleep with him." She followed that up with a shudder. "Since I'm not willing to cheat on you, especially with a bald fat guy, I was only able to convince him to give you something in accounting."

Jim frowned. "Well, better than nothing."

Quinn tried to see the bright side. "Relax, babe," she said, "You used to be a stockbroker. This job is right up your alley. In fact..." Both Quinn's eyes and voice became very seductive. "...I was hoping we could celebrate."

"How," asked Jim in a sly tone, knowing he's probably going to get laid that evening.

"Well," said Quinn, "Since you don't start until Monday, why don't we spend tonight making each other's hottest fantasies come true? In fact, you can take me any way you want..." She licked her lips sensually. "...sexy."

Of course, they spent most of the evening having some of the best sex ever.

Monday morning...

Quinn and the triplets were at the kitchen table having breakfast before they go to school, and she sets up to make another S'mores 'n' Pores video. Jim was notably absent. Timmy was the first to remark on Jim not being present.

"Mom, where's Dad?"

Quinn explained. "Your father left for work about twenty minutes ago. He wants to make a good first impression by showing up early."

"I can't believe Dad got a job at AvTech," said Tommy, "That's so geeky!"

"What's he doing there," asked Teddy.

"Your father's new job is in accounting," Quinn answered.

"He's a professional math nerd," said a mortified Tommy, "That's really gonna cost me some status points!"

"And having an unemployed father didn't," Teddy deadpanned.

"Shut up, brain," Tommy barked.

"Boy's," Quinn hissed ominously, prompting Tommy and Teddy to stop sniping at each other.

"I think Dad's new job is cool," said Timmy, "AvTech makes all those cool gadgets! He must be having a lot of fun right now!"

Somewhere on I-95, at that very moment...

Jim's Camaro was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Inside, Jim was rapidly losing his patience.

"COME ON," he shouted as he beat the horn angrily, "I'M GONNA BE LATE FOR WORK, YOU ASSHOLES!!!"

AvTech headquarters, more than an hour later...

The head of accounting, a forty-something redhead with thick-rimmed glasses named Mrs. Pullman, was standing by the elevator and angrily looked at her watch. Suddenly, the elevator doors opened, and an out-of-breath Jim stumbled out, having run all the way from his car.

"You're late, Mr. Carbone," said Pullman as she pointed at her watch.

"Sorry," said Jim, "Traffic on I-95 was hell and I had to park a block away from the building."

"Well," said Pullman with an insincere smile, "Since it's your first day, I'm willing to let it slide, but don't be late again."

"Yes, ma'am," said Jim.

"Please," she said with insincere friendliness, "Call me Mrs. Pullman." She then looked at Jim's business-casual attire and scowled for a second. "No tie, and..." She buttoned his collar so tight that Jim felt like he was choking. "...you have to keep your shirt fully buttoned at all times. Again, it's your first day, so I'll let the dress code violations slide this once."

Jim let out a forlorn sigh, remembering more and more how much he hated working in the corporate world during his days with Grace, Sloan and Paige.

"Come on," said Mrs. Pullman as she turned and walked, "Let me show you to your workstation."

As Mrs. Pullman led Jim to his workspace he took note of his surroundings. The ceiling was wall to wall fluorescent lights with an unforgiving glare and annoying hum and the room was an endless sea of cubicles occupied by people typing away like mindless office machines. Damn, no avenue of escape from this soul-crushing pit!

Finally, they reached an empty cubicle.

"Here you are, Mr. Carbone," said Mrs. Pullman, "Your new home away from home. First, I want you to alphabetize all of our invoices from last quarter, then come see me for your next assignment."

"Okay," said an increasingly disappointed Jim as he sat down to do what was basically pointless busywork.

"Welcome to AvTech," said a smiling Mrs. Pullman as she walked away.

Jim felt more and more of his soul die as he took in his lifeless surroundings before proceeding to do a long, tedious task.

Casa Carbone, evening...

A visibly exhausted Jim sat up in bed and sighed.

"Sorry I didn't get home until after dinner," said Jim, "But I was half-an-hour late getting to work because of traffic and was given a task that took me until 8:00 in the evening to finish, and they're not giving me the overtime as punishment for the tardieness and dress code violations."

"Poor boy," came Quinn's voice from inside the walk-in closet, "But maybe I can do something to make my working stud of a man feel better."

Quinn emerged from the closet in a skimpy red nightie that was transparent enough for Jim to make out his wife's naughty bits. Normally, he'd be all over his wife upon seeing her like that, but tonight he was so exhausted that even a Playmate wouldn't be able to turn him on.

"Quinn," said Jim with an eyeroll, "not tonight, I have a headache."

The irony was not lost on Quinn.

"Isn't that my line?"

Jim sighed. "Quinn, I'm too wiped for sex. I'd rather just go to sleep."

Quinn looked dejected. "Come on, Jim. Normally, you're always ready to get down when I'm horny."

"Sorry," said Jim, "But I had an exhausting day. Can we do this tomorrow night?"

"Fine," Quinn huffed as she reached into the nightstand and pulled out a vibrator, "I'll service myself!"

As Quinn angrily stormed into the bathroom for a self-love session, Jim promptly went to sleep, and rejecting his hot wife's advances would only be the beginning of Jim's new job changing him in ways that no one likes.

Act II
Casa Carbone, early morning...

At 5:30 AM the alarm clock on Jim's side of the bed goes off. Jim groaned, hit the off switch and got out of bed with a resigned sigh.

Music: "Why Don't You Get a Job" by The Offspring

My friend's got a girlfriend and he hates that bitch.

Jim was in the shower with a forlorn expression on his face.

He tells me about her every day

Jim's leaving for work while everyone else is still asleep and it's still dark outside.

She wants more dinero just to stay at home

Quinn wakes up to find her husband not in bed. Jim's on 1-95 heading downtown Philadelphia by this point.

She sits on her ass he works his hands to the bone.

Jim is at his cubicle itemizing invoices. The clock reads 9:00, and he's already exhausted.

To give her money every pay day.

By noon, Jim discovers he'll have to eat lunch at his desk because his new boss, Mrs. Pullman, has just dumped a bunch of other work on his desk.

But she wants more dinero just to stay at home.

Well, my friend, you gotta say...

Jim's still chained to his desk, chugging an energy drink right as Mrs. Pullman dumps another mountain of work on his desk.

I won't pay
I won't pay ya
No waaay
Na, na, why don't you get a job

It's five o'clock and Jim's happy to go home. As he gets up from his desk, Mrs. Pullman suddenly approaches. She shakes her head before dumping yet another mountain of paperwork on his desk.

Say no way
Say no way
Saaay no way
Na, na, why don't you get a job

Quinn and the boys are at the kitchen table eating dinner. She, their sons and the family dog, Stripe, are all visibly disappointed that Jim's still not home from work. By the time he does come home it's so late that everyone's in bed.

Wednesday...

Jim's third day plays out exactly the same way, only this time it's past midnight by the time he gets home. Quinn is becoming increasingly upset that her husband only ever comes home to sleep now.

Thursday...

Same thing as the previous day. On his drive home, well after sunset, Jim looks like he could snap and go psycho at any moment. Indeed, when he does get home, he's immediately confronted by Quinn, angered that her husband is blowing them off for his new job and deaf to Jim's efforts to point out that his new boss isn't allowing him any say in the matter.

Friday...

Kevin, Jamie, Chuck, Chris and Adam are hanging out on Kevin's porch, visibly wondering where the hell Jim is. Meanwhile, Jim is still at the office, buried in a mountain of work.

End montage...

Jim sits at his desk and breathes a huge sigh of relief. He then looks at the clock and is further relieved that it's only 5:00 PM.

Thank God, Jim thought, I'll actually make it home in time for dinner tonight. Not only that, but since it's Friday, I won't have to endure this tomorrow.

Jim's relief was very short lived, as Mrs. Pullman approaches.

"Jim," she said, "Mark's using his vacation time, so I'm gonna need you to come in on both Saturday and Sunday."

Jim looked like he'd just been stabbed in the gut.

Casa Carbone, that evening...

The whole family was seated at the kitchen table having dinner. The situation was tense as an angry Jim explained how he had to spend his weekend.

"...so now I have to spend my whole weekend at the goddamn office covering for a colleague I don't even know!"

"So," Teddy remarked, "You're gonna be working 90-hour weeks from now on, like most people."

"Shut up, Teddy," Jim barked.

"HEY," Quinn clapped back, "Don't take your frustration out on our kids!"

Suddenly, the dog came up to Jim and nudged him. Stripe missed having her favorite human around.

"Not now, Stripe," Jim practically growled.

The dog placed a paw on Jim's knee and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"GODDAMMIT, STRIPE," Jim yelled, "NOT NOW!"

Everyone else gasped in shock as Jim is normally very loving and affectionate towards the dog. Stripe even pulled away from him, which was a first. Seeing how his behavior was affecting everyone, Jim calmed down.

"I'm sorry," said Jim, "That was the caffeine, and the fluorescent lights, and the ungodly long hours, and the excruciating headache!"

"Jim," said Quinn, "Make some time for your family and friends. We haven't seen you all week because you're working fifteen-hour days. Even the guys are starting to complain that you aren't around anymore. You need to regain a work-life balance."

"Oh, sure," said Jim in a sarcastic and hostile tone, "We'd all like to have work/life balance, but in the real-world people have to work all day, every day or Mrs. Pullman won't let them wear a t-shirt and jeans on casual Friday!!! I FREAKING HATE MY LIFE!"

"You know," said Teddy, "You could just quit. I mean, it's not like you're the sole breadwinner."

"I'd love to quit," said Jim, "If it didn't make me a total bum. Not only that, but Mrs. Pullman has made it clear that loyalty to AvTech comes before everything. I quit and I'll be blackballed so hard that I won't even be able to get a job flipping burgers!"

Everyone gave Jim a sympathetic look. In order to avoid turning into Trent, he's allowed himself to be trapped in a soul-crushing, life-sucking job that he clearly hates. Quinn and the boys were also visibly worried as Jim seems to be closer to snapping by the day.

AvTech headquarters, three days later...

Mrs. Pullman was standing in one of the corridors talking to two colleagues. One was a brown-haired man who was in charge of marketing, the other was a nerdy-looking blonde who was in charge of research and development. Each of them was looking at a list of names.

"No way," said the head of R and D, "Layoffs!?"

"Afraid so," said the head of marketing, "I was given a list of people to let go when I came in this morning. Half the people on it are my best friends. How am I gonna tell them that I have to fire them?"

"Well," said the R and D head as he looked at his list, "If it's any consolation, I'm being forced to fire my own brother."

Mrs. Pullman looked at her list and frowned. "I can't fire Frank! I'm too sentimental. We had a brief affair back in the 2000's."

It was at this point that Jim walked by, having just gotten a drink from the vending machine. Mrs. Pullman saw him and smirked as she got an idea.

"JIM," she called out.

Jim let out a defeated sigh as he turned to face his boss.

"Yes, Mrs. Pullman?"

"Do you know Frank Williams?"

"Met him once," said Jim, "To be honest, I find his overly cheerful demeanor kinda annoying."

"Well," said a grinning Mrs. Pullman, "It's like this, all the department heads were given a list of people we were supposed to lay off this morning."

Jim was instantly nervous (yet somewhat hopeful at the same time).

"Don't worry," Mrs. Pullman reassured, "You're not on it, but Frank is. See, Frank and I have some history which makes it really difficult for me to fire him. Since you have no feelings for him one way or the other, how'd you like to be the one to tell him he's fired?"

Jim didn't like this one bit. "That's it! I'm being forced to work 90-hours for 40-hours pay, and now you want me to do YOUR job for you!?"

Mrs. Pullman folded her arms. "I don't care for your tone, Carbone."

Jim sighed in frustration. "What's in it for me?"

"Keep your job," Pullman offered.

"What else," asked Jim, now beyond caring if she retaliates for his sticking up for himself.

"Well," Pullman offered, "You do this, and I won't make you work extra hours for the rest of this week. You'll actually be able to spend time with your wife and kids."

Jim grinned, though his grin now had an evil quality to it.

Frank's office, a short time later...

Frank was a pudgy man with short brown hair and glasses. He was sitting at his desk doing paperwork when Jim charged in.

"Hey, Jim," said a smiling Frank in acknowledgement, "What's going on?"

"You're fired," Jim barked, "That's what's going on!"

Frank laughed, clearly thinking that this is a joke.

"Good one, Jim."

"Do I look like I'm joking," said Jim with a scowl. He then handed Frank the pink slip. "Here you go!"

Frank's face lost all color as he realized that he was in fact losing his job.

"No," Frank begged, "Please! My wife's pregnant with twins, I need this job!"

"Not my problem," Jim said coldly as he pointed towards the open door, "Pack your things, and then get the hell outta here!"

Frank was so distraught that he started crying.

Jim responded by twisting the knife. "You gonna cry about it now, ya goddamn pussy!?"

That's when Mrs. Pullman peeked in. "I'm sorry, Frank," she lied, "I fought for you, but the exec's minds are made up."

Frank gathered up his personal belongings and ran out crying.

"Jim," said an impressed Mrs. Pullman, "That was very good. In fact, how'd you like this to be your new job?"

Jim's eyes lit up. "You know, laying into him like that was very cathartic."

"Exactly," said Mrs. Pullman, "I can pull some strings and get you re-assigned as the new head of Human Resources. You'll only have to work from 9 to 3 on weekdays, double your salary AND won't be penalized for taking your vacation time."

Jim loved the sound of that.

Casa Carbone, a few hours later...

Quinn was in the kitchen taking down her video equipment, having just made another S'mores 'n' Pores video, when she heard the front door open.

"HI, HONEY," called Jim from the living room, "I'M HOME!"

Stunned, Quinn dropped what she was doing and walked to the living room.

"Jim," she said in shock, "It's not even six yet!"

"Good news," said a smiling Jim, "Guess who got promoted at work today!"

Quinn's face lit up. "Really!? That's wonderful!"

"I know," said Jim, "No more fifteen-hour days, no more working on the weekend! I now have time for a life outside of my job!"

"Oh, Jim," said Quinn as she threw her arms around her husband, "I missed you so much!"

They kissed. After the kiss, Jim spoke.

"After dinner, send the boys to your parents so we can celebrate."

Visibly turned on, Quinn said, "Now you're talking!"

With that, they made their way down to the basement to start their celebration with a quickie in the laundry room.

AvTech, the next day...

Jim was strutting among the cubicles, his eyes scanning the workers like a predator looking for prey. He finally zeroed in on a black man in one of the cubicles.

"Hey, Mike," said Jim as he approached the cubicle.

"Hey, Jim," replied Mike in response, "Congratulations on your promotion!"

Jim whipped out a pink slip. "Congratulations on your termination notice, you're fired!"

Mike had a despondent frown as Jim walked away laughing sadistically.

Later, Jim approached another cubicle. This one was manned by a skinny man with thick glasses.

"Hey, Vince," said Jim in a sadistic tone, "Good news, you're fired!"

As Vince took the pink slip, he frowned in disappointment.

"You said it was good news!?"

"For me," replied Jim in a condescending tone, "Not for you. See ya, don't wanna be ya!"

Jim walked away laughing while Vince sulked in his cubicle.

It went on like this for several days, Jim either prowling the cubicles for victims or summoning people into his new office just to fire them in the most cruel manner possible.

Jim's office...

Jim sat behind his desk with a visible air of superiority when a nervous man entered. By now, Jim's reputation as the office terminator was enough to make everyone scared.

"You...You wanted to see me, Mr. Carbone?"

Nodding, Jim cut right to the chase.

"Winters, how long have you been with this company?"

"It'll be fourteen years next week," Winters proudly bragged.

"No," said Jim in a cutting tone, "It won't. You're fired!"

Winters shuffled out of the office. Jim, clearly on a major power trip, soaked up the man's misery as if it were breathing new life into him.

(Author's note: That's how you turn a good man into a sadistic psycho. First, you push him past his breaking point. Then, after he snaps, you put him in a position of power.)

A few days later...

Jim was showing his new office off to Quinn and their two best friends, Chuck and Stacy.

"Thanks for inviting us for lunch," said Chuck.

Jim shrugged off the thanks. "Don't mention it. It's the least I can do for old friends." Jim then reached into his desk and pulled out a set of keys. "By the way, anyone need to hit the bathroom before we head out?"

"Jim," said an amazed Stacy, "Are those...?"

Jim nodded proudly. "Yep, the keys to the executive washroom."

"Told you his new job was awesome," Quinn bragged, clearly not aware of what a jerk it's turned him into.

"I've been anchor for almost three years," said an impressed Stacy, "And they still won't give me the keys at the station!"

"You know," said Chuck, "I could use a trip to the bathroom."

Jim smirked sadistically. "Too bad, I only made the offer so I could see the look on your faces when I retracted it."

"Whoa," said a disappointed Chuck, "Not cool, Jim."

"Jim," said a shocked Quinn, "What the hell's gotten into you!?"

Suddenly, Jim remembered something.

"Excuse me, there's just one more little thing I have to do before we head out."

He then pressed the talk button on his desk intercom.

"Send in Peterson."

A few seconds later, John Peterson, a man in his thirties with olive skin and black hair entered the office.

"You...you wanted to see me, Mr. Carbone," said the VERY nervous Peterson.

"John," said Jim with a sadistic grin, "You have ten seconds to tell me why you should remain employed at AvTech."

"Um..well...uh...hoboy..."

Jim didn't even give him the full ten seconds.

"Not good enough, John. You're fired! Get outta my sight!"

John pleaded. "But...but..."

"GET FREAKING LOST," Jim barked.

As John ran out crying, Jim visibly took sick pleasure in the man's distress.

"JIM," said a shocked and horrified Quinn, "What the hell!? You just fired a man out of pure spite!"

"Exactly," said Jim, "I used to wonder how Sandi could be such a cruel bitch, now I know. It's just too much fun."

"Um...Quinn," said Stacy, "Can we do lunch some other time? I suddenly don't have much of an appetite."

"Jim," said Chuck, "I hate to say it, but you've kinda turned into an asshole."

"Then," said Jim, "Maybe I should fire you as my friend."

Chuck and Stacy nervously left the room. Once it was just her and Jim, Quinn let her husband have it.

"Dammit, Jim," she hissed, "Those are our two oldest friends, and you're treating them like shit just to make yourself feel better."

"Yeah," said Jim, "So?"

"UGH," said Quinn as she threw her arms up in frustration. "Chuck's right, Jim! YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE!!!"

With that, Quinn angrily stormed out of the office.

"YOU CAN FORGET ABOUT SEX TONIGHT," Jim shouted out the door at her, "AND SEND ME THE JANITOR!!! I SUDDENLY WANNA FIRE HIS ASS TOO!"

Act III
Casa Carbone, evening...

Quinn was in her home office talking on her phone.

"...he's just completely changed, and I don't know what to do about it!"

Meanwhile, in New York City's Hell's Kitchen...

Daria was in her small apartment talking on the phone with Quinn.

"So you called me," said the cynic-turned-TV-writer.

"Yeah," replied Quinn on her end, "I mean, you're smarter than I am, so maybe you have some advice, maybe an idea that hasn't occurred to me."

"Well," said Daria, "It sounds to me like the pressure Jim's under snapped him and he's venting his frustration by going on a serious power trip."

"The worst part," said Quinn, "Is that this is kinda my fault. I pointed out to Jim that since he lost his passion for cars and YouTube he was starting to turn into Trent."

"So," Daria deadpanned, "He went and got a job that turned him into Mom instead."

Quinn stifled a giggle. "Pretty much. It doesn't help that I was the one who convinced AvTech to give him an accounting job in the first place. They worked him so long and hard that he was leaving for work before the rest of us were awake and wouldn't come home until after the kids were already in bed. We hardly ever saw him. Then, they made him the head of HR and that turned him into a cruel asshole who takes pleasure in other people's misery. I didn't want my husband to turn into a lazy bum, but I didn't want him to turn into a workaholic jerk either."

"Sounds like your husband was corrupted by a toxic work culture," said Daria, "He took a job that consumed his whole life and then they decided to unleash Jim's bitterness and frustration on everyone else. That's the way cults convert new members. It's brainwashing 101."

"Could you give me a lesson in deprogramming 101," Quinn asked, "'Cause I REALLY want the old Jim back."

"Well," said Daria, "Here's an idea..."

Casa Carbone...

Quinn's eyes lit up as she listened.

"That's a great idea! Thanks, Daria!"

"Don't mention it," said Daria over the phone, "Ever."

Quinn stifled a giggle. "Bye, sis!"

"Bye, Quinn."

They both hung up.

AvTech, the next day...
Music: "Espresso" by Sabrina Carpenter

Jim sat at his fancy new desk in his fancy new office drinking coffee from a thermos. After the first gulp, his desk intercom buzzed. Slightly annoyed, Jim pressed the talk button.

"If you wanna keep your job," he growled, "Then this had better be good."

"M...Mr. Carbone," came the frightened female voice on the intercom, "Your wife's here to see you."

"Send her in," said Jim in a voice that showed some of his old humanity.

The door opened and not only was Quinn there, but so were Kevin, Jamie, Chuck, Adam and Chris. Jim gasped in shock.

"Quinn," said Jim, "The receptionist said it was just you!"

"I told her to tell you that," said Quinn in a stern tone, "and if you fire her for this then you WILL be sleeping on the couch indefinitely."

"Whoa," said Kevin as he took in the surroundings, "Cool digs, dude!"

"Kevin," Jamie hissed, "Focus!"

"Yeah," added Chuck, "We have to keep on subject."

"What subject," asked Jim, "What the hell's going on here?"

"Jim," said Quinn, "This is your intervention."

Jim was stunned. "Intervention!?"

"Yes," said Quinn, "Intervention!"

"Funny," said Jim, "I don't recall being a junkie or alcoholic."

"Jim," said Adam, "It's come to our attention that you're addicted to power."

"I've seen you abuse the hell out of it already," added Chuck.

"You've got a problem," said Chris, "And we're here to fix it."

"That's rich," said Jim, "Coming from a lonely, chronically depressed drunk."

"Jim," said Quinn, "This job has turned you into something I can't stand. You used to be a decent man who'd go the extra mile for his friends and family. Now, we hardly ever see you and, when we do, you're a total jerk. In fact, you used to take pleasure in doing the right thing. Now, you only seem to take pleasure in being cruel. Jim, I love you, but I don't love what this company has turned you into. I want my husband back."

"I want my brother back," said Chris.

"And, like," added Kevin, "We want our friend back. I mean, who else is gonna save me when I, like, do something stupid?"

"And who's gonna calm me down when I start ranting about my students," asked Jamie in turn.

"You know," said Adam, "I miss the days when you and I would go to scrap yards looking for junkers for you to fix on your YouTube channel. In fact, I found something in a junkyard in Oakwood yesterday that you might be interested in. Won't you come with me to check it out after you get off work?"

Added Chuck, "And don't you miss being self-employed? I love having a job that allows me to set my own hours."

"Look, guys," said Jim, "I've lost my passion for cars. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here in the first place. I hate it, but I'm stuck. The only time it doesn't bother me is when I'm making other people feel as shitty as I do."

"Quit, Jim," said Quinn, "You work in a toxic place, and it's turning you into a toxic person."

Before the conversation could continue, Jim's desktop intercom buzzed.

"Excuse me." He pressed the talk button. "Yes."

"Mrs. Pullman is here to see you."

"Send her in."

A few seconds later, Mrs. Pullman entered.

"Hey, Jim, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No," said Jim, "These people were just leaving."

Quinn and the guys all let out defeated sighs.

Accounting, a few minutes later...

Jim and Mrs. Pullman were walking among the cubicles and talking.

"So," said Jim, "You want me to fire the new receptionist because she's annoying?"

Mrs. Pullman nodded. "I'd do it myself, but she's also married with kids and I can't bring myself to fire her. Damn sentimental streak."

"Say no more," said Jim as he approached the entrance to Mrs. Pullman's office.

In front of the office was a brunette in her early thirties, Heather Wilkes. Jim walked right up to her. She froze with fear as she saw the office terminator towering over her.

"eep!"

"Heather," said Jim with a sadistic grin, "You're fired!"

Heather was devastated.

"P...please, I need this job!"

"Save it for someone who cares," Jim growled menacingly.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Pullman lied, "Orders from above."

"Is this because I'm a little late," asked Heather, "I'm sorry, but I had car trouble."

That reawakened something inside of Jim.

"What kind of car trouble?"

"It took forever to start this morning," Heather answered.

"Well," said Jim to everyone's surprise (including his own), "Let's have a look."

The parking garage, a short time later...

Heather was in her car, a 2006 Chevy Impala, while Jim and Mrs. Pullman stood by.

"Aright," Jim commanded, "Crank her up!"

Heather tried to start her car, but it struggled to get going. Jim saw the smoke coming from under the front bumper and knew right away what the problem was.

"Okay, that's enough," said Jim.

As Heather stopped trying to start her car, Jim whipped out his I-Phone.

"Leslie," he said, "Clear my schedule. I have to deal with an emergency."

Montage scene...
Music: "Mission Impossible"

Jim opens the trunk of his Camaro to retrieve his tools.

Jim is disconnecting the battery in Heather's car. He then takes the battery out while explaining to both Heather and Mrs. Pullman why you should remove the battery.

"You handle a starter while the battery's connected, and you're gonna be electrocuted."

Next, Jim is assembling the 3-ton jack that he keeps in his Camaro (one of several that he owns). Once assembled, Jim slides the jack under Heather's car and jacks it up high enough for them all to safely slide under it. He then lays a large towel under the elevated front end.

Next, we see all three of them under Heather's car. Jim was pointing out the starter. He then disconnects and removes it, happily explaining the whole process to Heather and Mrs. Pullman as he does.

Next, Jim's showing the fried starter to Heather and Mrs. Pullman.

Next, Jim, Heather and Mrs. Pullman are at a nearby auto parts store buying a new starter.

Next, Jim is putting in the new starter while showing Heather and Mrs. Pullman how it's done.

Finally, with everything re-attached and the car lowered, Heather turns the key in the ignition. It starts right up.

End montage.

"And that's how you change the starter on a 2006 Impala," said Jim.

Heather happily shut off her car, exited and hugged Jim.

"OH, Jim, thank you so much!"

"Don't mention it," said Jim, "It was actually fun, especially explaining to you ladies how it's done."

Heather released Jim and frowned.

"I'm still fired, aren't I?"

"Not by me," said Jim, "You're still employed here."

Jim then turned to Mrs. Pullman.

"Mrs. Pullman, do your own firing," said Jim, "And tell the CEO I quit!"

Mrs. Pullman was shocked. "What!?"

"You heard me," said Jim, "I'm done being the company attack dog!"

"Are you sure," asked Mrs. Pullman, "You're the best HR director we've ever had, and I'm talking all the way back to when we were called AvCo."

"Look," said Jim, "Ruining other people's lives may be cathartic, but it's a poor substitute for doing something you love."

Jim then gathered up his tools and walked away, with no intention of ever returning to AvTech.

"He'll be back," said a smug Mrs. Pullman.

"I don't know," said Heather, "He seemed pretty serious to me."

"He has to come back and clean out his desk," explained Mrs. Pullman, "By the way, Heather, you're fired."

Heather frowned.

Quinn's Roaster, a few days later...

Mr. Chafee, the man who manages the restaurant that Quinn and Jim co-own, was in his office when the door suddenly swung open.

"Hey, what the hell..."

He stopped speaking when he saw both Jim and Quinn standing right there.

"...OH, Mr. and Mrs. Carbone! What brings you guys here?"

"Your treatment of our staff," said Quinn, "That's what! I just spent three weeks seeing my husband transformed beyond recognition by a toxic workplace."

Added Jim, "After I quit, it occurred to me that I had it pretty good before. Now, I seem to recall you mistreating my father when he worked here a few months back."

Quinn went on. "I've been talking to staff, and Tony Carbone's far from your only victim."

"Mr. Chafee," said a smirking Jim, "YOU'RE FIRED!"

"WHAT," exclaimed Chafee, "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

"Oh, yes, we can," said Quinn, "See, my husband and I own the restaurant. You just manage it day to day."

Jim went on. "We like to put people before profits. That's been our mantra since day one."

"But," Chafee begged, "Who'll run this place for you on a daily basis?"

"We've thought of that," said a smirking Quinn.

She and Jim then stepped aside and who should walk in but Heather.

Jim explained. "Since we don't want you turning this into another toxic workplace, we've decided to give your job to someone who was just fired from a place like that."

Heather smiled. "Thanks, guys. You two really are my saviors."

"You're welcome," said Quinn.

Jim suddenly looked at his watch.

"I gotta go. Adam found something in a scrapyard that he thinks I might enjoy restoring."

Quinn smiled. "Glad to have you back, Jim."

Added Heather, "Quinn and I can take it from here."

A local scrapyard, a few hours later...

Jim salivated at the rusted black 1974 Ford Mustang GT Adam was showing him.

"So," said Adam, "What do you think?"

Jim smiled. "I think I can turn this into a pristine replica of Mad Max's V8 Interceptor!"

"Welcome back, buddy," said Adam with a smile.

Indeed, Jim's passion for cars and YouTube was back with a vengeance.

End chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the triplets now middle school aged. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rebuffs an advance by Daryl in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the park with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' people with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Timmy making out with Q Ruttheimer while three girls are practically throwing themselves at Tommy. Final shot is Quinn, Jim and the triplets standing on the front lawn and then being joined by the rest of the regular cast. They all smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Death of a Muscle Car"
written by
WildDogJJ

Casa Carbone, day...

Quinn, Jim, their son Timmy and his girlfriend Q were gathered in the driveway. Jim was less than thrilled.

"You know, Quinn," said Jim, "When you insisted we take Timmy and Q to see a movie, I was under the impression said movie wouldn't be a chick flick."

"Jim," said Quinn, "You need to spend more time with Timmy. I mean, you let Tommy work on cars with you and Teddy prefers to be left alone. You and I going on a double-date with Timmy and Q is a great way for you to bond."

"But," said Jim, "I'd rather Timmy and I bond over a common interest, not a double date to a chick flick."

"Jim," said Quinn, "Just because Flowers of Time takes place on a rose farm doesn't mean it's a chick flick."

Jim gives his wife a 'who-are-you-kidding' look. "Let's just get in the car and get this over with."

"TO THE FLOWERS OF TIME," Timmy chanted.

While Q giggled, Jim blushed with embarrassment.

"Just get in the car, Timmy."

With that, Timmy and Q climb into the back of Jim's Camaro. Then, Quinn enters the front passenger side while Jim enters the driver's side. Once in the car, Jim puts his keys in the ignition and turns, but all that happens is that the car makes week noises and sputters to a stop.

"Not again," said Jim, "I just put in a new battery!"

Jim then popped the trunk (2016 Camaro's car battery is located in the trunk next to the spare tire, rather than the engine compartment) and exited the car. A few seconds later, he came out of the garage with one of his battery charge readers. He put the pins on the charge reader and looked.

"What the hell," said Jim, "According to this, the charge is still good. Maybe it's the starter."

One hour later...

The Camaro was jacked up and Jim was under it installing a new starter.

"That oughta do it."

Jim rolled out from under the car, made his way to the back and reconnected the battery.

"Fire it up, Quinn!"

Quinn reached over and started the car. It started right up.

"Yes," said Jim with a fist pump.

Suddenly, the engine died.

"NO!"

Timmy looked at his watch.

"Dad, we missed the show."

Added Q, "We can still make the next showing, though."

"Jim, honey," said Quinn, "Why don't we just go in my car?"

"Quinn," said Jim, "I need to figure out what's wrong. If it's not the battery or the starter, then it's gotta be the sparkplugs."

"Jim," Quinn insisted, "You can work on the car AFTER we take Timmy and Q to see that movie!"

"But..."

"Not negotiable," Quinn insisted in a manner eerily reminiscent of Helen.

"Fine," said Jim.

The movie theater, later...

Jim, Quinn, Timmy and Q were seated in the theater watching the movie Flowers of Time. Jim was visibly uncomfortable.

"You know," whispered Jim, "I think Timmy and I are the only guys in this theater."

"No," Quinn whispered back as she pointed a few rows down, "See those two guys in front, with the neatly trimmed mustaches and loud, festive shirts."

Jim rolled his eyes rather than point out that those guys are obviously a gay couple. He then turned his attention back to what was on the screen.

On the screen, an elderly man was pinned under an overturned tractor while his son tries, and fails, to get him out.

"URGH...come...on..."

"Son," said the old man, "I...hack...I'm done...n...cough...not...gonna...make...it..."

"Don't say that, Dad," said the son, "I...I gotta save you!"

"I...wheeze...it's too late for...m...me...son," said the old man, "J...Promise...me...tak...care...of...farm..."

"Dad, please don't go," said the panicked son, "I love you!"

"I...hack...love...you...too...son...."

With that, the old man died. The son cried out in grief.

"DAD, NOOOOOOO!!!!"

In the audience, Jim was so moved by the scene that a stray tear began to roll down his cheek. Next, Jim sniffled. Finally, he started crying in earnest.

Quinn saw this. "Oh...my...God! Jim, are you crying!?"

Jim immediately forced himself to stop crying. "NO!"

The parking lot, later...

They're all making their way to Quinn's Cadillac Escalade.

"Quinn," said Jim in a forceful tone, "Gimmie the keys to the Cadillac, I'm driving!"

"Excuse me," said a put off Quinn, "It's MY car!"

"Quinn," Jim growled, "Just let me drive!"

"Dad," said Timmy, "are you mad because you cried during the movie?"

"NO," Jim barked angrily, "Quinn, just let me drive!"

Quinn sighed as she handed Jim the keys to the car, knowing that he wanted to drive because his crying episode had him feeling emasculated.

The next day...
Music: "All The Small Things" by Blink-182

Jim was driving his Camaro down the street. Fortunately, whatever was wrong the day before seemed to no longer be an issue.

Don't know what the hell was with this baby yesterday, Jim thought, but everything's working fine now. Must've just been some kinda fluke.

Suddenly, Jim noticed his windshield fogging up.

Weird, it's March and we usually don't get that humid until well into June.

Jim immediately turned on his windshield wipers so that he could see.

That's better.

It was then that the car started slowing down by itself.

What the hell!?

Then, Jim heard the warning dings coming from the dashboard. His face lost all color as he saw a check engine light and the temperature gauge was well into the red zone.

SHIT! I'M OVERHEATING!!!

Jim instantly pulled his car off to the side of the road and shut it off. He then stepped out and saw steam rising from the hood.

OH GOD NO!!!

Jim popped the hood and watched as a torrent of steam emerged from the engine compartment. He emerged from the car and looked at the steam.

Better give it a few minutes to cool off. I don't wanna burn my hands lifting the hood.

That was when Jim looked behind his Camaro and saw the trail of fluid leading up to and under the car.

I hope to God that isn't what I think it is.

Jim got on his hands and knees and looked under the Camaro's front end. What he saw confirmed his worst fears.

Dammit, the radiator's leaking! No wonder my car overheated!

Casa Carbone, evening...

Jim and Quinn sat up in bed, preparing to go to sleep. Quinn could tell that her husband had a lot on his mind.

"Jim, honey, what's wrong?"

"Well," Jim replied, "I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I figured out what's wrong with the Camaro. The bad news is that it's a leaky radiator. The starting issues were because the engine was running so hot that it fried a lot of connections. Fixing it's gonna take a lot of time and cost a lot of money."

"Or," said Quinn, "You could save both and just take it to Rowe Automotive."

Jim immediately shot down the idea. "Quinn, I'm a mechanic and there's NO way in hell I'm letting some other guy touch a machine that I've already put nine years of my own blood, sweat and tears into, and shame on you for even suggesting such a travesty! Shame on you!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Fine, be a testosterone drunk jerk! Let's change the subject."

"Good idea," said a relieved Jim.

"Jim," said Quinn, "about what happened at the movies yesterday..."

Jim interrupted. "Let's talk about something else!"

"Jim," Quinn said, "You were so moved by a touching movie scene that you cried. It's nothing to be ashamed of...yet, strangely, I am."

"That makes two of us," said Jim, "So let's never speak of it again."

"Jim, I'm embarrassed," explained Quinn, "for the same reason you are. I married a man, not some emo punk."

"So," said Jim, "is raking me over the coals a new bedtime ritual or something?"

"No," said Quinn, "but I have some theories about why that scene made you cry."

"This oughta be rich," said Jim with an eyeroll.

"Jim," said Quinn, "It was during the scene where the farmer was crushed by a tractor and his son tried in vain to save him. Maybe, just maybe, it hit a little too close to home for you. Maybe, it reminded you of you and your father."

"No," Jim insisted in a defensive tone, "it didn't! My father have a complicated relationship, that's all!"

Quinn refused to back down. "Exactly! Your biggest fear is that your father will die without ever telling you he loves you!"

"No," Jim insisted, "It isn't!"

"Then," said Quinn, "It's about how you relate to our kids."

"Quinn," said Jim, "Have you been on WebMD again?"*

*(Author's note: Don't self-diagnose on WebMD. That site will have you thinking every tick in your body is a cancer cell that could destroy you at any moment.)

"Yes," said Quinn, "and Psychology Today, which is where I got this theory from."

Jim spoke with Daria-like deadpan. "Because browsing websites makes you just as much of an expert as someone who has a doctorate in the subject."

"Well, think about it," said Quinn, "The only one you spend significant time with is Tommy. You rarely talk to Teddy and the only time you talk to Timmy it's to bark orders at him. Maybe, just maybe, you cried during that scene because it bother's you that you only bond with one of our kids and have strained relations with the other two."

Jim decided he'd had enough. "Look, Quinn, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but the fact of the matter is simply that I cried in a movie theater. Why? Don't know, don't care. I'd rather just put the humiliating episode behind me because I have more important matters to concern myself with. Good night, Quinn!"

Jim turned off the light and closed his eyes before Quinn could get another word in. Quinn responded by folding her arms and letting out a huff as she hates it when her husband gets uncomfortable enough to shut down a conversation before it's finished.

The next day...

Jim was in the garage working on his Camaro. He was surrounded by tripod mounted cameras that were recording the whole process. Jim looked right at one of the cameras.

"Today," he said, "We're gonna be fixing the cooling system on a 2016 Camaro ZL1."

Suddenly, Kevin, Jamie, Chuck and Chris entered the garage.

"Hey, crybaby," Kevin taunted.

"Dammit, guys," Jim barked, "Can't you see I'm making a YouTube video here!?"

"You gonna cry about the interruption too," Jamie taunted.

"Or," added Chuck, "Do you only cry while watching chick flicks?"

"That's it," Jim barked as he turned off the cameras, "What makes you guys think I was crying in a movie theater?"

"Q told me," said Chuck, "Then I told Stacy."

"Who told Nicole," added Jamie, "So she told me, then I told Chris."

Added Chris, "Then I told Kevin."

"And, I, like, told everybody," said Kevin.

"AHHH," groaned Jim, "So everybody and their mother knows now!? DAMMIT!"

Chris snickered. "Gonna have another crying fit, cry-baby brother?" He then resumed laughing.

"Says the man who cries almost every day over his ex-wife," Jim growled in response.

Chris immediately changed his tune. "Come on, guys. Maybe we should cut my brother some slack."

"Like, why," asked Kevin, "I mean, he cried during a chick movie." He turned his attention to Jim. "Isn't that right, girly-dude?"

"THAT'S IT," Jim barked, "Next guy who gives me shit's getting his ass kicked."

That shut them all up as they knew Jim wasn't bluffing (and that none of them can take him in a fight).

After a second or two of awkward silence, Jamie spoke.

"Jim, what's wrong with the Camaro?"

Jim sighed.

"It's been acting weird lately. At first I thought it was either the battery or the starter, then I found out the radiator's leaking. Apparently, the car's been overheating and that's been frying everything else. I'm trying to fix it."

"Dude," said Chuck, "That's a lot to fix, even for you."

"I know," said Jim, "That's why I'm making a YouTube video of the process. Until I get this fixed, I won't have time to work on anything else. Now, this stays in the garage, but..." Jim lowered his voice. "...Quinn wants me to take it to a mechanic."

The other four guys gasped in shock.

"You," said Jamie, "Take your own car to a mechanic!"

Added Chuck, "Quinn wants you to pay a stranger to get...grr,feisty...with YOUR machine."

"How long have you guys been married," asked Chris rhetorically.

"Exactly," said a nodding Jim, "This Camaro's been through nine years, three Presidents, two Eagles Super Bowl wins and ZERO mechanics. I might as well chop my sausage and meatballs off if I take my baby to a mechanic now."

"Like," said Kevin, "Didn't you already chop your nuts off the other day at the movies!?"

Kevin laughed so hard that he didn't see Jim ball up his fist. The laughter stopped only when Jim punched Kevin so hard that it knocked him out cold.

Home office, a few days later...

Jim had just finished uploading his new video when Quinn entered.

"So," said Quinn, "the Camaro's fixed."

Jim nodded. "It took me three days and a lot of trips to the auto parts store, mostly because GM doesn't make the parts anymore so I had to special order them, but yes, the Camaro's fixed." Jim held up his car keys. "Care to join me for a Sunday drive?"

The road, a short time later...

Jim was driving his fixed Camaro while Quinn rode shotgun.

"Jim," said Quinn, "I'm sorry I suggested taking this car to a mechanic. I should know better than to doubt you at this point."

"Apology accepted," said a smiling Jim.

It was at this point that they came up to an intersection. While stopped at the red light, Quinn asked another question.

"So, where are we going?"

"I figure a drive to the shore and back," said Jim, "We can walk on the boardwalk like we used back when we were dating."

Suddenly, the Camaro stopped running.

"What the hell," exclaimed Jim.

Jim kept trying to restart his car, but it just wouldn't happen.

"No, no, no, NO! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!!"

"I thought you fixed it," said an annoyed Quinn.

At this point, the light turned green. Jim was still trying, a failing, to get his car going.

"Come on, please! START, GODDAMMIT!!!"

The car refused to start. By now cars were starting to honk their horns behind them.

"COME ON," Jim yelled as he kept trying to start his dead car. Finally, he gave up and started crying.

"Oh...my...GOD," said a stunned Quinn, "You're crying again!!"

Jim wiped his tears. "O...Okay, I am crying! I'm crying because...because...MY CAR'S DYING!!!!"

Jim resumed his crying while Quinn gave him a puzzled look.

He's been getting overly emotional...OVER A STUPID CAR!!! You've gotta be kidding me!

Act II
Pizza King, day...

Quinn was having lunch with Stacy and Nicole. Over the course of their meal, Quinn was explaining the situation with her husband and his car.

"...so after we got home, Jim finally broke down and agreed to have Adam take a look at his Camaro. He's at Rowe Automotive right now."

"That's smart," said Stacy, who happens to be Adam's sister, "My brother's just as much of a whiz with cars as your husband."

"I know," said Nicole, "He's my go-to guy whenever I have an issue with my Accord."

"Anyway," Quinn continued, "Jim's over there right now. I followed him in my Cadillac in case the Camaro quit on him again. Since he insisted on staying to watch, I decided to invite you guys to lunch. That's why the invite was last minute."

"No problem," said Stacy, "We've got a new intern, fat kid with bad acne, who keeps hitting on me. It's kinda creepy."

"Stacy," said Quinn in a friendly-yet-teasing tone, "You married Upchuck."

Stacy stifled a giggle. "Touche, Quinn."

"So," said Nicole, "Jim's getting all emotional about a car. I never understood that about guys. I mean, God help the suicidal fool who messes with Jamie's motorcycle."

All three women giggled.

"You know," said Quinn, "I actually asked Jim what the big deal is and he told me that since GM discontinued the Camaro and Dodge discontinued the Challenger he wants to hold on to his Camaro as long as possible."

"I can see that," said Stacy, "Being the loyal Chevy guy that he is, there's no way Jim would ever stoop to driving a Mustang. According to Adam, that's the gearhead equivalent of turning to the Dark Side."

The three women laughed again.

"You know," said Quinn, "that car's only nine-years-old. It shouldn't be having those kinds of problems."

"Um, actually," said Stacy, "According to Adam, GM hasn't built cars to last since the 80's."

Added Nicole, "None of the American car companies do that anymore. That's why I drive a Honda, despite the fact that it makes me even more stereotypically Asian than calling myself Ninjababe online."

They all laughed yet again.

Meanwhile, at Rowe Automotive...

Jim's Camaro was on a hydraulic lift. Adam and one of his mechanics were looking under it while a nervous Jim stood by and watched. Finally, Adam and the other mechanic exchanged grim looks. They then turned off their flashlights and got out from under the car. While the other mechanic lowered the lift, Adam approached Jim to deliver his diagnosis.

"Well," asked a concerned Jim.

"It's not good," said Adam, "Several of the electrical connections are corroded by age, the alternator's shot, the fuel pump is rusting and dumping additives into the fuel, you need new struts and new shocks and the A/C's gonna go any time now...and don't even get me started on the transmission. Jim, getting this car back in working order would cost more than it's worth."

"Adam," said a stunned Jim, "How can that be!? It's a 2016 Camaro ZL1 and I bought it brand new."

"Jim," said Adam, "Camaro's, hell, muscle cars in general, just aren't in demand anymore and she's already got 100,000 miles on her. Blue book value's only around five-grand."

"Still," said Jim, "How can a car that's barely a decade old and been well maintained be falling apart like this?"

Adam gave Jim a pitying look. "Jim, you know as well as I do that Detroit hasn't built a car to last since the late 80's. Frankly, if you were an average car owner and not a professional gearhead, then what's happening to your car now would've happened about three or four years ago."

"So," said a horrified Jim, "That's it!? I have to junk a car that I can't replace...unless I betray my loyalty to Chevy and buy a Ford Mustang!"

Adam nodded grimly. "Jim, this car's only gonna make it another 500 miles, a thousand if you drive downhill a lot."

Jim was too horrified to speak.

"Look," said Adam, "Maybe, just maybe, you need to accept that your days of owning a muscle car are over. Either that, or you start sleeping with the enemy."

"No," said Jim in a defiant tone, "No freaking way am I jumping on the electric bandwagon and no way am I gonna cave and buy a Mustang! I've restored cars from the 50's and 60's that were in way worse shape than this."

"This is different," said Adam, "It'd take you at least a year to get the necessary parts to restore a car from this century that's no longer in production."

"Watch me," said Jim defiantly as he walked away.

Once Jim was gone, Adam smirked.

"And so it begins."

"Whaddaya mean, boss," asked the other mechanic.

"He's in denial," said Adam, "but even the most stubborn denier bows to reality eventually."

Casa Carbone, 2016...

Quinn emerged from the house with a three-year-old Tommy munching on her hair extensions while riding on her shoulders, a three-year-old Timmy clinging to her pants leg and crying while a three-year-old Teddy yanks on her purse.

"Jim, what's going on?"

Jim stepped aside to show a brand new blue Chevy Camaro ZL1 in the driveway.

"Quinn," said Jim, "I hope you were kidding when you said you'd kill me if I bought another Camaro, but this is top of the line so I traded in the SS."

Tommy let go of his mother's hair and pointed.

"Cool car, Da-da!"

"Me like blue," said the awestruck Timmy.

"Am I the only one my age who doesn't talk like a caveman," Teddy asked rhetorically, "But the car's nice, Dad."

"Well," said an exhausted Quinn, "The boys seem to like it."

"Good," said Jim, "Because I just might pass it down to one of them when they're old enough to drive."

"YAY," chanted the triplets in unison.

Casa Carbone, 2025...

Jim and a now twelve-year-old Tommy were working on that very same Camaro. Jim groaned in frustration.

"Well," said Jim, "I tweaked the distributor and cleaned out the fuel pump."

"Want me to fill up the gas tank, Dad," asked Tommy.

Jim smiled proudly. "Sure." He pointed to a nearby gas canister. "That's where I keep the premium gasoline. You know why I want you to put 93-octane gas in there?"

Tommy nodded. "Lower octane fuels won't properly power a V8 engine, especially one that's supercharged."

Jim nodded approvingly. "That's my boy! Remember, only fill a V8 engine with 93-octane unleaded fuel. They don't run right otherwise."

"I will, Dad," said Tommy.

At this point, Tommy went to get the gas canister. That was when Timmy entered the garage.

"Dad," he said, "Tommy, what are you guys doing?"

"Fixing the Camaro," said Jim, "I wanted Tommy to help, since it's gonna be his car someday."

Timmy was visibly dejected to hear that. "What about me!?"

Jim struggled not to laugh. "You!? Driving a muscle car!?"

"Yeah," added Tommy as he finished pouring in the gasoline, "You're too much of a wuss."

"Tommy," said Jim in an ominous tone, "What did I say about calling your brother that?"

"Sorry, Dad," said Tommy.

"Come on, Dad," said Timmy, "Can't I at least help?"

Jim suppressed another laughing fit. "Timmy, you don't even know what kind of engine this car has."

"Sure I do," said Timmy, "It's a...um...well...uh...that is...you see...ummm..."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "It's a 6.2 liter pushrod V8 equipped with a supercharger, right, Dad?"

Jim smiled proudly. "Right, son." Jim then turned his attention back to Timmy. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but I don't know what you could do."

"Can I start it," asked Timmy, "Starting a car's not that hard."

Jim was apprehensive. "Timmy," he said, "This isn't a toy, it's a 625-horsepower beast. Your mother would never forgive me if you hurt yourself in this thing. Besides, I already promised Tommy that he could do the test."

Timmy sighed. "Okay, fine." As he turned to leave, Timmy accidentally kicked over the pan full of used motor oil from the car. "Oops!"

"Dammit, Timmy," Jim barked, "People are gonna see that stain and think I work on cars while drunk!"

"Dad, I'm sorry," exclaimed Timmy.

"Timmy," said Tommy, "Just go. All you're doing is getting in our way."

Timmy gave his father a pleading look.

"Sorry, Timmy," said Jim, "but your brother's right."

Timmy shuffled out of the garage. None of the three realized that Quinn had been listening in on the conversation, and she did NOT like what she'd heard.

Timmy's room, a short time later...

Timmy sat on his bed sulking when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

The door opened and Quinn entered.

"Hey, Timmy."

"Mom," said Timmy, "what's going on?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," said Quinn as she sat down on the bed next to him.

"Nothing," said Timmy in a bitter tone.

Quinn didn't believe him and proceeded to say so.

"Timmy, I overheard what happened in the garage just now."

Timmy sighed as he knew there was no avoiding this conversation.

"Fine," he said, "Mom, why does Dad hate me?"

"Timmy," said Quinn in a reassuring tone, "Your father doesn't hate you."

"No," said Timmy bitterly, "but he doesn't love me, or Teddy, as much as he loves Tommy."

"Timmy," said Quinn, "You know that's not true. Your father loves all three of you equally."

Timmy didn't buy this. "Then why does Dad only wanna spend time with Tommy? He totally ignores Teddy and the only time he talks to me is when I piss him off."

"Timmy," said Quinn, "First, I don't like you using that kind of language. Second, it's...well, it's hard to explain. Your father and Tommy just have more in common...I think."

"I think," Timmy replied, "Tommy's just more normal than me or Teddy, that's why Dad loves Tommy more."

Quinn sighed. "Timmy, the truth is that Tommy's more like I was at your age. I was the most attractive and popular girl in school. All the boys wanted to date me and all the girls wanted to be me."

"Just like Tommy," Timmy agreed, "and Teddy's just like Aunt Daria. Doesn't explain where I came from."

"Actually," said Quinn, "Wait here a second."

Quinn left the room and went to the master bedroom. She emerged a few seconds later with a photo in her hand. When she returned to Timmy's room, she handed it to Timmy.

"Look at that."

Timmy gasped at the old picture of a twelve-year old boy who was just as fat as he is and had bad acne to boot.

"Gross! Who's this!?"

"That," said Quinn, "Is your father when he was your age."

Timmy didn't believe her.

"No way!"

"Way," said Quinn, "he didn't lose the weight until eighth grade and his acne didn't clear up until high school. Not only that but, according to Nonna, your father had a penchant for the theatrical until Grandpa Tony beat it out of him."

"So," said Timmy, "If I'm just like Dad, except for not having the acne, then why is he so hard on me?"

"Because," Quinn explained, "It's his misguided attempt to toughen you up, in the hopes that it'll cause you to have an easier time of it than he did. It's the same reason I tend to go harder on Tommy than I do on you and Teddy. I'm trying to keep him from repeating some of my mistakes."

"Okay," said Timmy, "but why does Dad always wanna spend time with Tommy? Why's Dad planning to pass the Camaro down to him?"

"Because," Quinn explained, "Your brother is just as into fast cars as your father is and..." Quinn stopped as she suddenly got an idea. "Timmy, I think I just figured out how to make a better relationship with your father happen."

"I'm listening," said a very interested Timmy.

That evening...

The whole family was seated at the kitchen table having dinner. Jim was talking about the car.

"...but when Tommy started it, the engine caught fire. After I put the fire out, I started it and the same thing happened. I can't freaking believe this."

Quinn gave Timmy a knowing nod.

"Dad," said Timmy, "why not try another mechanic?"

"Duh," said Tommy, "Dad's a mechanic, and he already took it to another mechanic."

"But," Timmy insisted, "Maybe a third mechanic will notice something that Dad and Mr. Rowe both missed."

"You know," said Jim, "That's actually not a bad idea. I mean, yeah, it hurts my pride that I can't get my car back in shape, but maybe an outside opinion won't hurt."

"And," said a smiling Timmy, "I know just the guy. Mom told me about this place in Middlebury. They apparently do top notch work at a half-assed price."

Jim was hesitant. "I don't know. I'm not sure the Camaro will make it to Middlebury in her current condition."

"But, Dad," said Timmy, "think of all the memories you've made with that car over the past nine years. Don't you think she deserves the best care you can give her?"

That convinced Jim. "Okay, Tommy and I will take her over tomorrow afternoon."

"Actually," said Quinn, enacting her part of the plan, "I think you should take Timmy."

"Come on, Quinn," said Jim, "Timmy's not interested."

"Actually," said Timmy, "I am. Look, what happened in the garage today got me to realize that I don't know anything about cars and I wanna learn."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "You're serious!?"

"Yes," said Timmy with a nod, "I even called to make an appointment."

Jim was impressed with Timmy's sudden initiative.

"Okay, Timmy, you're in."

Timmy and Quinn exchanged knowing glances.

"I see what's going on," muttered Teddy under his breath, "and how badly it's gonna backfire."

Middlebury, the following afternoon...

The weather was getting overcast as Jim's Camaro went down the road. Inside, Jim was driving while Timmy rode shotgun. They were listening to the radio.

"...and if you live in Middlebury then you're in for one major thunderstorm. Heavy rain and frequent lightning strikes."

"Whoa," said Timmy.

"Relax," said Jim, "We can wait it out in the lobby."

Timmy pointed at an upcoming intersection.

"Next left."

Jim turned the car left at the intersection.

"There it is," said Timmy as he pointed.

Jim frowned as he saw a car dealership.

"Ford!? This mechanic works at a Ford dealership!?"

"I know," said Timmy, "Chevy and Ford are absolute rivals, but I also figure it's a worthy sacrifice for this car."

"If that's what it takes," said Jim as he pulled into the dealership.

"Remember," said Timmy as they exited the Camaro, "Ask for Carlos Ramirez."

Jim walked up to a man with olive skin in a business suit.

"Excuse me," said Jim, "I'm James Carbone, I have an appointment with Carlos Ramirez."

"Look no further," said the Latin man, "For I am Carlos Ramirez."

"Hmm," said a suddenly suspicious Jim, "Dressed pretty snazzy for a mechanic."

"Gracias," said Carlos.

"So," said Jim, "My son told me you'd take a look at my Camaro."

"Ah, yes," said Carlos, "but first, allow me to show you something."

With that, Carlos led Jim and Timmy inside the dealership.

Showroom, a few seconds later...

Carlos was showing Jim and Timmy a silver Mustang with a raised rear spoiler, front air splitter, side skirts, a 5.0 badge on the sides and GT badge on the rear. Jim let his Chevy loyalty momentarily slide as he found this car enticing.

"Is that...?"

"Yes," said Carlos, "A brand new Mustang GT, fully equipped."

"It's nice," Jim conceded, "but I'm a loyal Chevy man. Now, about my Camaro."

"Of course," said Carlos, "I can give you a trade-in value double the blue book."

That's when Jim put it all together.

"Oh...my...God! You aren't a mechanic, you're a salesman!"

"Yes," said Carlos proudly, "Salesman of the year, 2019 to be exact."

Jim glared menacingly at Timmy.

"Sorry, Dad," said Timmy, "but it was Mom's idea."

Jim's eyes narrowed further.

Act III
The outskirts of Middlebury, day...

Jim's Camaro was heading back to Lawndale. Outside, the weather was becoming increasingly overcast. Inside, Jim was giving Timmy the silent treatment as he drove.

"Dad?"

"Don't talk to me, Timmy," Jim barked angrily.

"But, Dad..."

"Goddammit, Timmy," Jim interrupted, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in!?"

"But it was Mom's idea," Timmy protested, "She thought buying a new car together would be a great way for us to bond!"

"Timmy," Jim barked, "I am not, repeat, AM NOT, giving up on this Camaro. It's only nine years old and I WILL keep her going long enough to pass it along to Tommy!"

"What about me," barked a suddenly irate Timmy.

"YOU," Jim snapped, "Right now I'm sorely tempted to give you up for adoption. Make back some of the money I wasted on you these last twelve years!"

Before the argument could continue, however, the Camaro's motor suddenly went dead.

"No, no, NO," hollered Jim in frustration, "NOT NOW!!!"

Jim kept trying to restart the Camaro while pressing hard on the gas, but the car was totally unresponsive. Worse still, by the time the Camaro had rolled to a complete stop it was right in the middle of a railroad crossing.

"Come on, dammit," Jim barked as he frantically tried to restart the car, "START, GODDAMMIT!!!"

All the car did was make grinding noises. Soon, it wasn't even doing that and all the lights went out.

"SHIT," Jim yelled.

Suddenly, Timmy heard a distant rumbling sound that was rapidly getting closer.

"Dad," said a nervous Timmy, "I think a train's coming!"

Jim didn't believe him.

"That's not funny, Timmy!"

"I'm not joking," said Timmy, "I really think a train's coming!"

At that moment, the warning bells on the railroad crossing sounded and the gate stick came down.

"SHIT," Jim yelled, "Now I gotta remove a massive ding!"

Then they heard the train's horn as it approached.

"DAD," Timmy yelled as he frantically opened the passenger side door, "WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!!!"

Jim was frantically trying to restart his dead Camaro.

"DAMMIT, GIRL, WE GOTTA GO!!! PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, START!!!"

"DAD," Timmy yelled frantically.

Jim looked and saw the massive train coming towards them at seventy-miles-per-hour.

"GAH!!!"

Running on adrenalin, Jim shoved Timmy out of the passenger side door.

"TIMMY, RUN!!!"

As Timmy ran from the tracks as fast as he could, Jim unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the driver side door and frantically ran in the same direction that Timmy had. By the time Jim caught up to his son, he turned around just in time to see his beloved Camaro be smashed to pieces by a speeding locomotive.

"No," Jim gasped in horror as he saw the pieces of his car fly all over the place, "PLEASE, GOD, NO!!!"

Just like that, it was over. Jim and Timmy were safe, but the car was literally all over the place. Car parts that used to be a Camaro were strewn everywhere. Jim fell to his knees and cried.

"So," said Timmy, "that's what it's like when a car gets smashed by a train. Doesn't look as cool in real life as it does in movies."

Hearing that instantly turned Jim's grief into anger on a level he'd never before experienced in his life. He stopped crying as his face contorted in to a mask of raw, animalistic rage.

"You," Jim hissed venomously as he stood up and faced Timmy. "YOU DID THIS," he yelled as he grabbed Timmy, lifted him off the ground and violently shook him. "YOU DID THIS , YOU FAT LITTLE BRAT!!!! HOW F***ING DARE YOU!!!"

"DAD, PLEASE," said a terrified Timmy, "YOU'RE SCARING ME!!!"

"YOU KILLED MY CAR," Jim screamed as he violently shook his son with murderous rage in his eyes.

"DAD, I'M SORRY," Timmy cried out in terror.

Seeing his son so frightened snapped Jim out of his rage. He immediately put Timmy down.

"Da...Dad," said Timmy, "I...I'm sorry. I...I..."

While Jim had calmed down enough to no longer be physically theatening Timmy he was still too angry to be reasonable.

"DAMMIT, TIMMY," Jim barked, "Not only did you get my car destroyed, but our cellphones were in there when the train hit. They were destroyed right along with MY Camaro, you little shit! Now, I have to walk back into town so I can find a phone and call your mother to come and pick us up!"

"Well," said Timmy with a resigned sigh, "I guess we'd better get going, 'cause it looks like we're about to get one heck of a thunderstorm."

"Oh, no, you don't," Jim hissed as he held Timmy back, "You're staying right here while I go find a phone. I want you to look at the mess that used to be my car and think about what you've done!"

Without waiting for a response, Jim angrily turned around and started quickly walking towards town.

"BUT, DAD..."

"LEAVE ME ALONE," Jim called back, "I CAN'T EVEN STAND THE SIGHT OF YOU RIGHT NOW!!!"

Jim then continued his angry power walk back into town.

Once alone, Timmy hung his head and sighed. Suddenly, there was a loud crack of thunder and a flash of lightining.

"EEEP!"

Timmy ran into some nearby bushes. Once there, he sat down.

"Dad...I...I'm sorry."

He began crying as rain started to fall.

The Ford dealership in Middlebury, thirty minutes later...

Jim entered the parking lot with a guilty expression on his face. He visibly felt bad about going off on Timmy like he had. Not helping matters was the weather. While it was not yet raining in this area the storm was getting dangerously close.

I shouldn't have lost my temper like that, Jim thought, I probably scarred that poor kid for life going off on him like I did. Jim sighed. I guess I turned into my father after all.

It was at this point that Jim saw the salesman Carlos standing next to a black Mustang. Carlos saw Jim and smirked.

"Yes," Carlos said to himself, "It's 2019 all over again! Second Salesman of the Year award, here I come!"

Jim approached Carlos.

"Well," said Carlos, "Look who came back."

"Don't get any ideas," said Jim, "I just need to use your phone. My son and I had some car trouble and, long story short, I need to call my wife to come pick us up."

Carlos grinned as he smelled a perfect opportunity and proceeded to pounce.

"Well, I could let you call your wife to come pick you and your son up, or..."

He pointed to the Mustang GT that he'd tried to sell Jim earlier.

"...You and your son can go home in this all new 2025 Mustang GT, fully equipped. Rearview camera, digital instrument panels, street, track and racing modes, 10-speed automatic transmission and a 5.0-liter V8 engine that puts out 500 horses, giving this car an acceleration rate of zero-to-sixty-miles-per-hour in 4.3 seconds."

"Nice sales pitch," Jim conceded, "but I have never, and will never, drive a Ford."

"You sure," asked Carlos, "By the way, where is your son."

Jim had a guilty frown. "He's waiting back where my Camaro broke down. I...I needed some alone time."

It was at this point that lightning struck close by.

"I see," said a smirking Carlos, "It seems to me that the best way to save your son from the coming storm is to buy the exquisite Mustang right before us."

Jim sighed, knowing that Carlos has him dead to rights.

"Fine," he said, "How much?"

"Sticker price is a sixty-five grand, but," said Carlos, "Since you are Jim the Car Guy and in a hurry, I'll let you have it for fifty-five...if you endorse this dealership on your channel."

There was another clap of thunder and it started to rain.

"Deal," said Jim, knowing this was probably the best he could do under the circumstances.

Carlos smirked. Carlos Ramirez, you are a GOD among salesmen!

Twenty minutes later...

Jim was driving his new Mustang on the road, heading back towards the railroad crossing. While his decision to buy this car was made under duress, he was quickly starting to come around.

I never had a ride this smooth in the Camaro.

Jim looked in the rearview mirror but couldn't see behind him because of the torrential rain outside. He then looked at the monitor screen on the center dash and got a clear view of the road behind him.

That camera even covers the blind spots!

Suddenly, Jim came to an intersection. An out-of-control car swerved in front of him. Jim slammed on his breaks and the Mustang stopped perfectly.

Better traction control, that's for sure. I would've fishtailed stopping like that under these conditions in the Camaro.

Soon, Jim reached the railroad crossing. The wreckage of his Camaro was still there, but he couldn't see Timmy.

God, I hope that kid's just holed up in the trees!

Jim stopped the Mustang and emerged.

"Timmy! TIMMY, WHERE ARE YOU!?"

Jim grew more concerned when there was no response.

"TIMMY! TIMMY!!!"

He looked around and kept calling, but couldn't find Timmy anywhere. It was at this point that Jim saw a pickup truck coming down the road from the direction he'd been heading in before he stopped. Jim ran out and gestured at the approaching truck.

"HEY, STOP!!! STOP!!!"

To Jim's relief, the truck came to a stop right in front of him. The driver, an old man with gray hair, lowered his window.

"HEY," the driver called out, "You looking for a kid, about twelve, reddish-brown hair, overweight?"

"Yes," said Jim, "That's my son! You've seen him?"

The old man in the pickup nodded as he pointed back in the direction he'd come from.

"Saw him about a mile or two back. Said he was walking to Lawndale."

Jim's eyes went wide.

"WHAT!? YOU LET A KID WALK ALL THE WAY TO LAWNDALE!? IN THIS WEATHER!?! WHY!?!"

"To be honest," said the old man, "Kid looked to me like he could use the exercise."

Jim did an immediate face palm.

Two miles up the road, a short time later...

A scared yet determined Timmy was walking along the side of the road in a thunderstorm. He had pulled his hoodie up to keep the torrential rain off. He jumped every time there was a burst of thunder.

"A...another eighteen miles," Timmy said to himself, "Just another eighteen miles."

Just then, Timmy heard the sound of a loud muscle car approaching. This was followed by the honking of the horn. Timmy jumped to the side and watched as a silver Mustang GT came to a stop right in front of him. The passenger side door opened.

"Timmy, get in," said Jim.

Timmy was defiant in his response.

"No," he said, "I'm done being the kid you don't want! I'll walk home!"

Jim frowned, knowing he deserved that rebuttal.

"Come on, Timmy," Jim pleaded, "It's raining and there's thunder and lightning everywhere!"

"So," said Timmy, "It's not like you care!"

Jim sighed. "I deserved that."

"Why should I ride home with YOU," Timmy barked.

"Come on, Timmy," said Jim, "You got tired on the drive here."

Timmy let out a defeated sigh. He had to admit that his father had a point.

"Okay, fine!"

Timmy got into the passenger side. Once the door was closed and Timmy was strapped in Jim put the Mustang in gear and started driving towards Lawndale.

"Timmy," said Jim, "I...I'm sorry I blew up at you like I did. I know you didn't mean for my Camaro to get totaled."

"You should be sorry," Timmy barked, "You think you're the only one who loved that car, Dad!? Some of my happiest memories took place in that car!"

Jim was pleasantly surprised. "You...you actually cared about the Camaro!?"

"Yes, I did," said Timmy, "and it REALLY hurt when you blamed me for it's destruction."

"I...I'm sorry about that," said Jim, "Look, you and your mother tried to trick me into buying a car I didn't want and that upset me. I hadn't had time to process when my Camaro was destroyed and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done that. I...Well, I just hope you can forgive me."

Timmy said nothing, but looked curiously at his father.

"So," said Jim, "Why didn't you ever tell me how much that Camaro meant to you?"

"You know how many times I've tried," asked Timmy in turn, "but you're so busy treating Tommy like the favorite that you only ever notice me when I screw up! That's why Mom insisted on this trick. She wanted us to bond over something! I went along because I just want you to love me as much as you love Tommy!"

"Timmy," said Jim, "I love all three of you equally!"

"Then," said Timmy, "Why do you only ever wanna spend time with Tommy?"

Jim tried to explain. "Look, it's not that I love Tommy more and you less. I spend so much time with him because we're both into the same things. Your interests aren't really my cup of tea."

"You could at least try," said Timmy, "Just because I'm not a gearhead like you or a jock like Tommy doesn't mean I don't wanna spend time with you, Dad."

"I know," said Jim with a guilt ridden sigh, "Now that I know how much it means to you, Timmy, I promise to make more of an effort to bond with you from now on."

"You...You mean that," said Timmy.

"Yes," said Jim, "truth is, the only real difference between you and what I was like at your age is that you don't have the bad acne that I did back then."

"I know," said Timmy, "Mom showed me the picture."

Jim smiled as a stray tear ran down his cheek.

"Dad," said Timmy, "are you crying?"

"No," said Jim as he wiped away the tear, "Um...Must be the new car smell."

"So," said Timmy, "You finally broke down and bought a Mustang."

Jim nodded. "Well, since the Camaro's been discontinued and both GM and Chrysler are hopping on the electric bandwagon, it's either a Mustang or stick with Chevy and get a Corvette. Since I'm a married man with three kids, a 'Vette's not very parctical."

"I like it," said Timmy, "I miss the Camaro, but this car's pretty cool."

"Thanks," said Jim, "I think so too. I mean, she's got more horsepower and better handling than the Camaro. Frankly, I don't think brand loyalty is a hill I need to die on anymore, not after driving this baby."

"How fast can she go," asked Timmy eagerly.

Jim smiled proudly. "Zero-to-sixty in 4.3 seconds!"

"Cool," said Timmy.

Jim smiled proudly at Timmy. By the time they were back in Lawndale, father and son were definitely closer than they'd been when they left.

End Chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the triplets now middle school aged. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rebuffs an advance by Daryl in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the park with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' people with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Timmy making out with Q Ruttheimer while three girls are practically throwing themselves at Tommy. Final shot is Quinn, Jim and the triplets standing on the front lawn and then being joined by the rest of the regular cast. They all smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Green Around the Radiator Grills"
written by
WildDogJJ

Lawndale High, 25 years ago...
Music: "Pretty Fly for a White Guy" by the Offspring

Don't debate, play it straight
You know he really doesn't get it anyway
Gotta play the field, and keep it real
For you no way, for you no way
So don't debate, just overcompensate
You know you can always go on Ricki Lake
The world loves a wannabe

Kevin was hanging out in the parking lot with some of his teammates after practice. The group included the three Js as well as Stacy's older brother, Adam. The other guys watched as Adam was shining his car, a 1999 Pontiac Trans-Am T-top. This car was a special edition. It had white paint with metallic blue decals in flair patterns and metallic blue rims. On each door was the logo of NASCAR with the following...

1999 Daytona 500
Official Pace Car

Yes, this special edition Trans-Am was a replica of one of the ones that paced the Daytona 500 that year.

"Dude," said Jamie, "Adam's ride is so awesome."

"Yeah, man," added Kevin, "It's even cooler than my jeep!"

"No wonder he gets so many chicks," said Joey.

Added Jeffey, "If only I had a car like that."

"Yeah, dude," said Joey, "Quinn would love it!"

"God," said Jamie, "I so want Quinn to see me rolling in that Trans-Am."

"Yeah," said Jeffey, "She'd be so impressed."

It was at this time that one of the cheerleaders, Lisa, pulled up in her black Camaro Z/28, also a T-top.

"HEY, ADAM," Lisa called out.

Adam winked at her.

"Yo."

"Check out my Camaro," said Lisa.

Adam walked up to the car and admired it.

"Nice," he said, "I like your taste in cars."

"Reflects my personality," said Lisa in a flirty tone, "Fast, with curves in all the right places."

"I like the way you think," said Adam as he hopped into the passenger side of Lisa's Camaro.

Once the two of them were gone, Joey noticed something.

"Dude, check it out!"

Jamie looked where Joey was pointing.

"Whoa, Adam left his keys in the ignition!"

Kevin and the three Js walked up to Adam's Trans-Am.

"You guys thinking what I'm thinking," asked Jeffy.

"Let's do it, man," said Kevin excitedly.

With that, Joey entered the driver side of Adam's Trans-Am while Kevin, Jeffy and Jamie filed in for an afternoon of joyriding.

Casa Carbone, present day...

It was a sunny afternoon. Jim was polishing his new car, a Mustang GT, while Kevin, Jamie and Chuck watched.

"Dude," said Kevin, "That ride's totally awesome!"

"Thanks," said Jim, "Just try not to do to this what you did to my '87 IROC-Z way back when."

Kevin looked dumbfounded until Jamie jogged his memory.

"You crashed your Hummer into it sixteen years ago!"

"Oh, yeah," said Kevin, "Sorry about that, dude."

It was then that one of Jim's sons, Teddy, accompanied by Jamie's daughter, Rachel, approached.

"So, Dad," said Teddy, "Polishing your new Mustang."

"Yeah, Teddy," said Jim, "Hey, Rachel."

Teddy whipped out a notepad and started writing. Once done, he handed the note to Jim.

"Here you go, Dad."

Jim looked at the note.

"Violation of Mother Earth!? Teddy, what the hell is this?"

"Class assignment," said Rachel.

Added Teddy, "Our science teacher, Mr. Cartwright, wants us to ticket people for engaging in practices that contribute to climate change."

Rachel then handed her own citation to Jamie.

"Here's yours, Dad."

Jamie rolled his eyes.

"You're citing me for driving a Kawasaki motorcycle!?"

Rachel nodded.

"According to Mr. Cartwright, motorcycles of any kind are major polluters. He told me to tell you to stop riding the Ninja and get a bicycle."

Added Teddy, "And, Dad, I'm supposed to tell you to ditch the Mustang for an electric car."

"I'm not going tree-hugger, Teddy," said Jim in a defiant tone.

"Dude," said Kevin, "You guys too? Junior cited me for driving an SUV yesterday!"

Added Chuck, "And Q nailed me for driving a Cadillac."

"That reminds me," said Teddy as he wrote another citation, "Give this to Mom."

Jim angrily took the second citation, this one for Quinn because she drives a Cadillac Escalade.

The kitchen, later...

Jim came in just in time to see Timmy citing Quinn. Quinn was not happy.

"Timmy," said Quinn, "all I did was drink water from a plastic bottle."

"Mom," said Timmy, "It's for class."

"Aw, jeez," said Jim, "Timmy, you too!"

The third triplet, Tommy, entered.

"What's going on," he asked.

Jim said, "Your brothers are harassing your mother and I for the slightest environmental infractions."

"Yeah," said Tommy, "Cartwright makes his students do that. Thank God I'm not in his class. I mean, I'm the star quarterback. I've got better things to do than some lame-ass tree-hugger assignment."

"For once, Tommy," said Jim, "I agree with you. This school assignment seems like a colossal waste of time."

"I feel the same way," said Teddy, "I'm only doing it because I care more about my GPA than my dignity."

"Fine," Jim grumbled, "I mean, it's not like I have to actually pay a fine."

"You didn't read the whole citation, did you," said Quinn.

Jim looked and his eyes went wide.

"I have to explain myself to your whole class on Monday!"

"Afraid so," said Quinn, "Otherwise, points will be taken off the boys' grades."

"That's extortion," Jim protested.

"According to our teacher," said Timmy, "If you don't show than not only do we fail the assignment, but you'll be held in contempt of Mother Earth."

"You've gotta be shitting me," said Jim, "I have to kiss a tree-hugging communist psychos ass just so you boys get a passing grade."

"If it's any consolation," said Quinn, "I have to do the same thing just for drinking from a plastic water bottle."

"And driving a Cadillac," said Jim as he handed Quinn Teddy's citation.

Quinn let out a frustrated sigh.

Glenfield Middle School, Monday...

David Cartwright was a man in his early thirties with shoulder-length red hair, thick-rimmed glasses, a beard and was wearing a hipster jacket. The students in his science class included Timmy and Teddy Carbone, Rachel White, Q Ruttheimer and Kevin Thompson Junior. Seated on a stool next to the teacher's desk, Kevin was pleading his case.

"Dude," said Kevin, "I, like, need an SUV to, like, get to my clown gigs!"

"Mr. Thompson," said Cartwright, "Do you think that justifies the wanton destruction of our planet?"

Kevin scratched his head in a lame attempt to think.

"Um...uhh...ummmm..."

"Mr. Thompson," said Cartwright, "Your thoughtlessness has done irreparable damage to the planet. By driving an SUV, you poison the Earth in a manner that may one day render it uninhabitable. I sentence you to take one ton of plastic to the recycling plant in order to offset your carbon footprint."

"Um...okay," said Kevin.

"Dismissed," said Cartwright.

Jim approached the teacher.

"Jim Carbone, Timmy and Teddy's father," said Jim as they shook hands.

"David Cartwright," said the teacher, "their science teacher."

"So," said Jim, "You're the teacher my boys have been talking about. For some reason I pictured a woman."

Cartwright was visibly offended. "You know, Jim, given what you drive and how you make a living, I pictured you with devil horns and a tail." He then gestured towards the stool. "Have a seat."

Jim sat in the stool, though his expression makes it clear that he's doing so grudgingly. One of the kids approached with a book.

"Raise one hand and place the other on the book."

Jim did so.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you Mother Nature?"

"It's so help me God," Jim corrected, "and that's not a bible, it's Lord of the Rings."

"We're not allowed to have bibles on campus, Mr. Carbone."

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Carbone," said Cartwright, "You stand accused of driving a V8 muscle car. How do you plead?"

"Guilty," said Jim, "and proudly so."

"So," said Cartwright, "You're proud to be raping Mother Earth."

"This," Jim hissed, "is so Goddamn asinine! Look, when they make a practical electric car I'll buy it, but they don't. Plain and simple. Besides, I make my living working on classic cars on YouTube. You're disrespecting my livelihood."

"And you," Cartwright venomously replied, "are part of the problem. It's because of men like you that the town council wants to drain the old pond east of town."

Jamie, who was waiting his turn, became visibly nervous when Cartwright said that.

"Excuse me," said Jamie, "but did you just say that they wanna drain the old pond?"

"Yes," said Cartwright, "But don't worry, my students and I are vehemently opposing it."

"Why," asked Jim, "That pond is practically an open sewer."

"Anyone in the class care to explain," said Cartwright.

Timmy answered. "Because it'll destroy the habitat of at least five different species of algae."

"So," said Jim, "algae, like everything else in that pond, is a biohazard. Good riddance, I say."

"Mr. Carbone," Cartwright scolded, "Just because they aren't ducks or fish or something cute and cuddly doesn't give us the right to drain the pond and fill it in to build a water park."

"You know," said Jim, "Everything you just said sounds like a good thing to me."

Jamie, now visibly sweating bullets, stood up.

"I gotta go," Jamie blurted out, "emergency!"

Jamie hurried out of the classroom, to the visible dismay of everyone there.

Principal's office, a short time later...

Mr. Black, formerly Joey of the three Js and now principal of Glenfield Middle School, was in his office doing some paperwork when the door suddenly opened and Jamie charged in.

"Jamie," exclaimed Joey, "What the hell!?"

"No time to explain," said Jamie, "After school lets out, meet me at Kevin's...and tell no one!"

"What's going on," asked Joey.

"One of your teachers," Jamie answered, "Just told me something very disturbing. It concerns me, you and Kevin. It'd concern Jeffy too if he were still alive."

Joey was now both nervous and confused.

Thompson house, a few hours later...

Kevin, Joey and Jamie were alone in Kevin's basement. Jamie had a frightened expression on his face while both Kevin and Joey were confused.

"Dude," said Kevin, "Why'd you, like, lock us in my basement, Jeremy?"

"It's Jamie," said Jamie.

"What's wrong," asked Joey, "I mean, all I know is that Cartwright said something that scared the living crap outta you, man."

"Look," Jamie explained, "I know we all agreed to never speak of this again but...they're gonna drain the old pond just east of town."

Both Kevin and Joey gasped in terror at Jamie's revelation.

"No," said Joey, "Oh, dear God, NO!"

"Dude," said Kevin, "If they drain that pond..."

Jamie continued, "...they're gonna find..."

All three: "...ADAM'S TRANS-AM!"

Act II
Kevin's basement, day...

Kevin, Joey and Jamie were meeting in Kevin's basement, all three visibly frightened by the news they'd just learned. Joey was leaning on the washing machine trying to keep calm with heavy breathing while Jamie nervously paced around and Kevin sat in the corner shaking like a leaf.

"Oh, man! Oh, man," said the quivering Kevin.

"Dude," said Jamie, "If they drain the old retention pond, they'll find Adam Rowe's old Trans-Am...WITH OUR LETTER JACKETS IN IT! EVERYONE'S GONNA KNOW IT WAS US!"

"I...I know," Joey stuttered, "Oh, God, do I know."

They proceeded to take a stroll down memory lane.

25 years ago...
Music: "My Own Worst Enemy" by Lit

It's no surprise to me
I am my own worst enemy
'Cause every now and then I kick the living shit outta me

Adam Rowe's car, a 1999 Pontiac Trans-Am special edition, was racing down the streets. Adam had left his keys in the ignition, prompting Kevin and the three Js to take the car joyriding. Since the car was a T-top, they decided to cruise the streets of Lawndale with the top off. Joey was driving while Kevin was riding shotgun and Jeffy and Jamie were in the back.

"Dude," said Joey, "This is awesome!"

"Yeah, man," added Kevin, "This ride's, like, even cooler than my jeep!"

"I wish this was my car," said Jeffy.

"For the rest of today," said Joey, "It's OUR car. Lisa's parents aren't home and she's totally hot for Adam."

"That's right," said an excited Jamie, "She's gonna keep Adam busy all night. He'll never even know we took this thing for a spin."

"Man," said Jeffy, "I'd love it if Quinn saw us in this thing!"

"Right on," said Joey.

"Let's go," added Jamie.

They drove to the Morgendorffer's, and were disappointed to learn that Quinn was at her after school job.*

*(Author's note: The events in this flashback took place at the same time as Is It College Yet.)

"Man," said Jamie, "I can't believe Quinn's mom made her get a job."

"Well," said Jeffy, "We can just come back later." He then held out his hand to Joey. "My turn to drive."

Joey handed the car keys to Jeffy. Later, they cruised all the way to the shore. Once there, Jamie took the wheel and they drove around trying to pick up chicks. Soon, there was the sound of thunder and dark clouds coming in. Because of this, the guys stopped to put the T-tops back on the car. Kevin then drove them back to Lawndale. By the time they cam back to Lawndale the sun was going down.

"Hey, guys," said Kevin, "You know that parking lot by the old pond? Let's, like, go there and do donuts."

The three Js all cheered their approval.

"I'll drive," said Joey, "I got a fake ID, so we can pick up some beer at the Maxi Mart."

The outskirts of Lawndale, evening...
Music: "Click, Click, Boom" by Puddle of Mudd

The old pond was surrounded on all sides by steep slopes. At the top of one of these slopes was an empty parking lot. In said parking lot, Jamie was doing donuts in Adam's Trans-Am while Joey, Jeffy and Kevin drank beer and cheered him on. All four are a little drunk but not so wasted that they're slurring their words, just buzzed enough to be dumber than normal.

"AWRIGHT," cheered Kevin.

"WAY TO GO," yelled Joey.

"GO JAMIE," hollered Jeffy.

Jamie pulled up to the guys and brought the car to a screeching halt.

"That...was...AWESOME!!"

"Told ya," said Kevin, "my turn!"

Kevin got into the Trans-Am and proceeded to start doing donuts. Since it had been raining earlier that day, there were puddles in the parking lot. Kevin hit one of the puddles, causing the car to hydroplane.

"AHHHHHH!!!"

The car skidded towards the three Js, but they all managed to get out of the way in time. Kevin slammed on the break but hit another puddle as he did. This caused the car to fishtail so hard that out of panic Kevin let off of the break and floored the gas. This only made the car go even further out of control. Now, Kevin was racing towards the edge of the parking lot at top speed. His eyes went wide as he saw the car about to hit the fence separating the parking lot from the pond.

"BAIL!!"

Kevin opened the door and rolled out of the speeding car. As the other guys approached, they all watched as the Trans-Am smashed through the fence. It reached the edge of the slope towards the pond at such a speed that the car actually got airborne. It then nosedived right into the middle of the pond, which was so deep that the car quickly disappeared to the bottom. The guys reached the edge just in time to watch as Adam's Trans-Am sank under the murky water.

"Dude," gasped Joey in horror.

The horror was magnified as they watched their varsity jackets, which they'd left in the car, float up against the rear window. The jackets had their names on them. A few seconds later, the car sank under the water, never to be seen again.

"Whoa," said a mortified Jeffy.

"Oh, man," said Kevin.

"Guys," said Jamie, "We can NEVER tell Adam about this!"

Kevin's basement, present day...

The now forty-something Kevin and the two remaining Js were panicking over the town's intention to drain the old retention pond.

"Man," said Joey, "When they drain that pond they're gonna find that car...with our old letter jackets in it! EVERYONE'S GONNA KNOW IT WAS US!!!"

Added Jamie, "And after we swore to take that secret all the way to the grave too!"

"Well," said Joey, "Looks like only Jeffy managed to keep that promise. Now I wish I was the one who went crazy and killed himself!"

"Dude," said a mortified Kevin, "We are SO busted!"

"No way," said Jamie, "We can't let that happen! We told Adam his car got boosted by hoodrats from outta town and, dammit, he's gonna go to his grave believing that's what happened!"

Kevin, as usual, misinterpreted what was just said.

"DUDE, I DON'T WANNA KILL ADAM! I JUST DON'T WANT HIM TO FIND OUT WHAT WE DID TO HIS TRANS-AM!"

"Kevin," said Jamie with a roll of his eyes, "no one's killing anyone. We just need to keep Adam from finding out what happened to his car."

"How," asked Joey, "I mean, the only one in town besides us who doesn't want that pond drained is Mr. Cartwright."

Jamie got an idea.

"Exactly! That environmentalist whack job is mobilizing people to stop the town from draining the old pond. If we want that Trans-Am to stay hidden, we gotta join him."

"Are you, like, totally nuts," said Kevin, "Cartwright's a tree-hugging looney tunes!"

"I don't like it either," said Joey, "But joining Cartwright's stupid crusade to save algae is the only way our asses are gonna stay covered."

Both Jamie and Kevin nodded in agreement. To keep their dirty little secret, they're going to join a cause that they don't believe in.

Glenfiled Middle School, the next day...

Mr. Cartwright was lecturing his science class.

"Remember, class," said the tree-hugging hipster, "Every time you drive a car, you kill the world. By the way, before class lets out I'd like everyone to sign my petition to block the draining of the old retention pond. Who wants to join me in my quest to save an endangered species of algae?"

Before anyone could answer an announcement came over the intercom.

"Mr. Cartwright, please report to the principal's office immediately."

Cartwright stood up.

"Beth, take over till I get back."

As Cartwright left a blond student walked up to the front of the class.

Principal's office, a short time later...

Cartwright was seated in front of Joey's desk while Joey sat behind it.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Black?"

Joey nodded.

"Mr. Cartwright, what can you tell me about the town's plan to drain the old pond?"

"Well," said Cartwright, "They want to drain the pond and fill it in so they can build a water park on the site. I'm opposed to this because it'll kill a rare species of algae that inhabits the retention pond."

"I see," said Joey, "Where does that plan stand at the moment?"

Cartwright explained. "The resolution's being put up for a vote at next week's town council meeting. I'm currently trying to gather enough signatures to block the resolution. I'm also planning to stage a protest at the meeting to put extra pressure on the council. Why so interested, Mr. Black?"

"Because," Joey lied, "I share your passion for the environment. I'd like to help in any way I can, and so do Jamie White and Kevin Thompson."

Cartwright believed him. "Wonderful! Would you like to sign the petition?"

"Better," said Joey, "Kevin and I wanna participate in the protest. Not only that, but Jim Carbone knows some people on the town council. We're gonna try to persuade him to join our cause so that he can use his influence to save the algae."

"Excellent," said Cartwright, too excited to notice that something's off about all of this.

"Okay," said Joey, "Now, Jamie would like to have us all meet at his house Friday afternoon. You know, so we can coordinate strategies."

"I'll be there," said Cartwright.

White Residence, Friday afternoon...

Jamie's hosting a cookout in his backyard. The guests include his friends as well as students and environmental activists. Jamie was working the grill when his wife, Nicole, approached.

"Jamie," said Nicole, "Why are we doing this? We don't even know half these people."

Jamie lied. "Because we should do our part to save the environment. That's why this get together is also to coordinate a protest."

Nicole was visibly skeptical.

"Since when are you an eco-warrior?"

"Since I need to do something to help Rachel maintain a passing grade in science," said Jamie.

Nicole believed that one, especially since she didn't even show up for that environmental court Cartwright hosted in his class.

"Now it makes sense," she said, "I still can't believe Rachel had to cite me because for serving my homemade sushi for dinner."

"I still don't get how that hurts the environment," said Jamie.

"According to Cartwright," said Nicole, "It contributes to the over-fishing of the ocean."

"Well," said Jamie, "I also jeopardized Rachel's grade by mouthing off in Cartwright's stupid pseudo-court, hence my joining a cause I don't believe in."

It was at this point that the Carbone's arrive at the cookout.

"Why'd Jamie invite all these tree-huggers," said Jim.

"Must be how he's paying his debt to that crazy science teacher's weirdo classroom court," Quinn guessed.

"Now," said Teddy, "Aren't you guys glad I got you off the hook by signing Mr. Cartwright's petition to save endangered parasites?"

"SAVE THE ALGAE," Timmy chanted.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Timmy, don't act like such a dork."

The Carbones approached the grill.

"Hey, guys," said Jamie.

"Jamie," said Jim, "I get that you're doing this for your daughter's grade and all, but did you have to drag us into it."

"Actually," said Jamie, "I need to talk to you in private, Jim. It's important."

Before Jim could ask what Jamie was talking about, Mr. Cartwright arrived. He walked right up to Jamie.

"Hey, Mr. White," he said, "I see you've pulled out all the stops."

Jamie nodded proudly.

Mr. Cartwright then looked at the grill with disapproving eyes.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep," said Jamie, "Ribs, burgers and hot dogs. Enough for everyone."

Mr. Cartwright voiced his objection.

"Mr. White, are you aware that raising cattle contributes significantly to deforestation while the feces of domesticated pigs adds methane to the air, both of which contribute to climate change. Also, consuming animals is cruel."

Jamie swallowed the urge to call out Cartwright's sanctimonious attitude.

"You know," said Quinn, "I brought some oatmeal cookies, cruelty free."

Cartwright looked at the container Quinn was holding.

"Plastic container! Do you know how much CO2 is unleashed by plastic extrusion?"

Quinn was visibly offended but kept her mouth shut so as not to jeopardize her sons' science grades.

At this point, Nicole approached. She was holding paper plates as she tried to suck up to Cartwright.

"You know, I thought of that in my choice of dishes for this gathering."

"Paper plates," said Cartwright, "So, instead of contributing to air pollution you're contributing to deforestation."

Nicole narrowed her eyes at Cartwright. In fact, the only thing stopping her from going off on him was the fear that he'd retaliate by taking points off of Rachel's science grade. Fortunately, before things could degenerate into an argument the Ruttheimer's approached.

"Hey, guys," said Chuck, "Jamie, what's going on?"

Jamie noticed that Stacy's brother, Adam, was with them. Since the real reason for this was to keep Adam from finding out who really stole his Trans-Am back in high school, Jamie was not pleased.

"What are you doing here, Adam," asked Jamie, sounding more hostile then he'd meant to.

"He's my plus one," said Stacy, "I mean, why not invite my brother?"

"Um, yeah," said Jamie, "I'm gonna ask all of you to leave." It was all he could think of at the moment.

The Ruttheimers were stunned by this.

"Jamie," said a puzzled Chuck, "Why?"

"Look," said Jamie, "You guys wouldn't be interested in this. Please, just go."

"Jamie," said Nicole, "What the hell!? They're our friends!"

"Look," said Jamie, "I don't want Adam here!"

"Dude," said Adam, "What did I do?"

"Yeah, man," said Jim, "Why you acting like such a dick?"

Jamie got right in Adam's face.

"DAMMIT, ADAM, YOU AREN'T WELCOME HERE TODAY! COME BACK SOME OTHER TIME!!"

"Fine," said Adam as he angrily turned around, "I got better things to do than eat barbecue with a bunch of hippies anyway!"

"Jamie," said Stacy, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but you're being a total asshole!" She turned to her husband. "Let's go, Chuck!"

The Ruttheimers left.

"Okay, Jamie," said Jim in a stern tone, "If you want me to stick around, you'd better come clean ASAP!"

Jamie sighed. "Jim," he said, "Kevin, Joey and I need to talk to you...alone."

Jim was both puzzled and concerned.

The garage, a short time later...

Kevin and Joey watched as Jamie held up the Congressional Medal of Honor that President Obama had given him for his heroism in Iraq. Jim grasped the Medal with his right hand while holding up his left. The reason for this is that Jamie, an army veteran, and Jim, who'd grown up in a military household, both consider an oath sworn on the Medal of Honor highly sacred. It's like making a devout Christian swear on the literal blood of Christ.

"Repeat after me," said Jamie, "I, James Giovanni Carbone..."

"I, James Giovanni Carbone.."

"...do solemnly swear..."

"...do solemnly swear..."

"...that I will not tell anyone what my friends are about to tell me..."

"...that I will not tell anyone what my friends are about to tell me..."

"...especially Adam Rowe..."

"...especially Adam Rowe..."

"...so help me, God."

"...so help me, God."

Jim then released the medal, which Jamie promptly returned to the display case that he usually kept it in.

"Okay," said Jim, "What's so important that you make me take a solemn vow of silence before telling me?"

"Okay," said Jamie, "Here's what's really going on."

A lengthy explanation later...

Jim did not appreciate what his friends had just roped him into.

"Let me get this straight," said Jim, "You guys are going all wacko-environmentalist just to cover up a crime you committed twenty-five years ago and have now forced me to become an accessory after the fact."

"Pretty much," said Joey.

"That's why I made you take that oath," said Jamie, "So you wouldn't be able to say no."

"Dammit, Jamie," said an angry Jim, "You made me swear on our nation's highest military honor to help you cover up a crime and lie to our friends and family!"

"Dude," said Joey, "We had to! It's the only way we can keep Adam from finding out what we did."

Jim let out a frustrated sigh. "Now, I have to join a fight I don't believe in! Look, I already swore on the Medal of Honor, so I really have no choice now, but you guys are gonna owe me BIG for this."

"Thanks, man," said Jamie.

"Don't thank me," said Jim, "Just do whatever favor I ask if and when I call this debt." Jim took a breath to calm down. "Don't worry, Quinn and I have maintained warm relations with the town council over the years. I can definitely get them to vote no on draining the retention pond."

Kevin, Joey and Jamie all breathed a huge sigh of relief in unison.

"In the future," said Jim, "rope Tom into something like this. No one says no to the Sloanes."

The other guys visibly felt idiotic for not thinking of that before deciding to drag Jim into this.

Lawndale Town Hall, Monday...

Jim was standing before the town council while they discussed the issue of draining the old pond. He was making the case not to drain the pond.

"...as you can see from the signatures on the petition and the large demonstration outside, the proposed motion does not enjoy broad public support. Frankly, building a water park in that location is a bad idea and too many people consider that pond too important to drain and fill in."

"Mr. Carbone," said the head councilman, "That pond hasn't been necessary for drainage since we upgraded the storm sewers in the 80's. It's been sitting there stagnant since then. Not only that, but the lack of maintenance and the tendency of people to use it as a dump has turned that pond into an open sewer. We're better off without it....and the zoning commission agrees."

"But..."

The council chair interrupted Jim.

"Motion to drain the pond and redevelop the land...all in favor?"

The entire town council raised their hands in favor of draining the pond.

"Motion to drain the old pond and redevelop the land passes by unanimous vote."

The councilman pounded his gavel. He then looked at a clipboard.

"Next item on the agenda: motion to allow police to detain anyone who looks like an immigrant from a Latin American country."

Jim let out a frustrated sigh.

Outside, later...

While the protest is going on, Jim, Kevin, Jamie and Joey were in a nearby alley to discuss the situation out of earshot.

"Dammit," said Joey, "What are we gonna do now?"

"Oh, man," said Kevin, "Adam's so gonna kill us when they find that Trans-Am."

"You guys aren't buried yet," Jim said in a reassuring tone.

"Whaddaya mean," asked Jamie.

"Kevin," said Jim, "You have scuba gear, right?"

"Yeah, dude," said Kevin, "got it for a trip to the Florida Keys this summer."

"Okay," said Jim, "Andy's Junkyard has a fleet of wreckers. The wenches on those trucks are strong enough to pull a big rig, so pulling a muscle car from the late 90's shouldn't be a problem, and Andy owes me a favor."

"Um," said Kevin, "Like, what do we need my scuba gear and a tow truck for?"

"Because," said a grinning Jim, "They can't find the Trans-Am if it's not there."

Act III
The outskirts of Lawndale, night...

Twenty-five years of natural erosion had made the slopes around the old retention pond a lot less steep than they had been in the year 2000. As such, Jim was able to park the borrowed wrecker truck very close and all four guys were able to safely walk right to the water's edge without significant risk of falling in. Now, Joey and Jamie were out in a rowboat over the pond while Kevin, in the wetsuit and scuba gear he'd bought for an upcoming vacation, was under the water with the hook and tow cable and Jim was at the wrecker waiting for the signal to activate the wench so that they could pull Adam's old Trans-Am out.

"God," said Joey with a scrunched nose, "I don't remember the old pond smelling this rank!"

"Yeah," Jamie agreed, "they really weren't kidding when they said all the years of neglect and illegal dumping had turned it into a cesspit."

It was at this point that Kevin surfaced. He looked like swamp thing because of all the sludge that he'd been swimming through down there, making everyone glad that he was protected by a wetsuit. Kevin wiped some of the sludge off before taking off his scuba hose and talking.

"Dude, I totally found and hooked the car. It was right next to a toilet and my old lawn mower."

Jamie whipped out his cell phone and dialed a number.

At the truck on shore, Jim's phone rang and he immediately answered.

"Yeah, Jamie."

"Good to go, Jim," said Jamie on his end.

Jim immediately engaged the wench and watched as the hook up did it's job. Soon, something was pulled onto dry land. Unfortunately, it wasn't Adam's old Trans-Am.

"No good," said Jim, "It's just an old refrigerator."

Back on the boat, Jamie chewed out Kevin.

"Dammit, Kevin," said Jamie, "You hooked an old fridge."

"Sorry, man," said Kevin, "But even with my flashlight it's kinda hard to see through all that gunk."

"Well, Kevin," said Joey, "You're gonna have to dive back in and try again."

"Aw, man," said Kevin.

later...

Jim was once again operating the wench, but his heart sank when what came out was a rusted old water heater.

"Try again," he said into his cell phone.

later still...

Jim was optimistic when he saw the outline of an old car emerge from the smelly water. His hopes were quickly dashed when he saw what knid of car it was.

"Wrong car," he said, "It's a '74 Pinto, not a '99 Trans-Am."

even later...

Jim was visibly irritated to see that this time he'd pulled out a Magnavox home entertainment center from the 70's.

The old retention pond, morning...

All four guys were now on the shore as Jim was hoping that this time they had the right item. The whole shore was littered with junk that Jim had fished out, none of it a 1999 Pontiac Tran-Am t-top. As Jim worked the wench he looked at his watch as they'd been at it so long that the sun was now up. Kevin was back in regular clothes but, due to having spent the whole night swimming in what's essentially raw sewage, he reeked.

"This better be the right car," said Jim, "We don't have much time until the drainage crew gets here."

"Man," said Jamie, "This better be Adam's Trans-Am."

Joey looked at Kevin and scrunched his nose before speaking.

"Kevin, while the rest of us take the car to be crushed you go home and take a bath, 'cause you REALLY need it."

The latest piece of submerged junk emerged. Jim smiled as he saw the white bumper with blue trim, elongated tail lights and a large spoiler. Above the tail lights was the image of a phoenix rising with the name Pontiac above it while the image was sandwiched between the words Trans and Am.

"Oh, finally," said Jim, "Now I don't have to kick Kevin's ass for wasting our time."

Once the Trans-Am was fully out of the water Jim shut off the wench while the other three guys approached the car. Surprisingly, the paint and decals were only slightly faded despite having spent twenty-five years submerged in highly polluted stagnant water. While Joey unhooked the wench Jamie walked over to the driver side door. Upon opening it, he was splashed with slimy, algae infested water.

"Gross, man!"

Jamie then reached into the car and pulled out one of the old varsity jackets, the most incriminating piece of evidence in the vehicle.

"Dude, check it out," said Jamie as he held up the varsity jacket.

The other guys approached as they saw the last name: Mercer.

"Whoa," said Joey, "That's Jeffy's old jacket!"

"Yeah," said a frowning Jamie.

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Before we get sentimental," Jim said, "Let's not forget how his life ended. He tried to shoot Quinn, shot me and then blew his own brains out."

"True," said Joey, "but before he went psycho he was our friend."

Added Jamie, "You only knew him after he went insane, Jim."

(Author's note: For those of you who aren't familiar with the "Quinn" series, perhaps some exposition is in order. While Joey and Jamie eventually got over their crush on Quinn Jeffy went a thousand miles in the opposite direction, becoming so obsessed with her that it eventually drove him insane. He started stalking Quinn and would've raped her if Jim hadn't stopped him. After that, Jeffy was declared legally insane and sent to a mental institution. Later, Jeffy was able to dupe the doctors and judge into thinking he was cured and was released. Jeffy then became even more unhinged. He tried to shoot Quinn, but Jim jumped in front of her and took the bullet. Seeing Quinn's reaction to Jim's injury made Jeffy so despondent that he immediately turned the gun on himself and blew his own brains out. Anyway, on with the story.)

"Well," said Jim, "I'm sorry, but I just can't feel all that sorry for a man who almost killed me."

"Dude," said Kevin, "Someone's coming!"

Jamie hurriedly threw the jacket back into the Trans-Am and slammed the door shut. The guys were shocked to see a group of 12 and 13-year-olds approaching, among them two of Jim's son, Timmy and Teddy, as well as Jamie's daughter, Rachel.

"Timmy," said Jim, "Teddy, what are you doing here?"

"Rachel," said Jamie, "Aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"

"Dad," Rachel responded, "You're a teacher at Lawndale High. You're supposed to be at work right now."

"SHIT," said Jamie upon realizing that he's now awol from his job.

Joey was equally concerned since he's the principal at Glenfield Middle School.

"Dammit," said Joey, "I hope Emily doesn't rat me out to the school board!"

"Emily," asked Kevin.

"My hall monitor," Joey explained.

Teddy immediately got the conversation back on topic.

"Dad, we are in school."

Added Timmy, "Mr. Cartwright's latest class assignment is this protest."

"Oh, God," said Jim as he facepalmed.

As if on cue, Mr. Cartwright eagerly approached the guys.

"Mr. Carbone, Mr. Thompson, Mr. White, Mr. Black," said the uber-environmentalist science teacher, "I'm so pleased to see you here. We're here to stop the draining through an act of civil disobedience."

"Mr. Cartwright," said Joey, "I don't remember signing off on this."

"And yet," said Cartwright, "here you are."

Joey was about to lay into his insubordinate science teacther when Jamie pulled him aside.

"Dude," said Jamie, "remember the plan."

Joey sighed, knowing he'd have to play along or the previous night would be all for nothing.

"I guess I can approve this retroactively."

"Wonderful," said Cartwright, "and I see you've already gotten started." He then turned to his class. "See what's going on, class. These three fellow eco-warriors have created a dam of all the illegally dumped junk in the pond. We're fighting garbage with garbage. Now, we can really defy the corporate stormtroopers trying to destroy the algae's habitat!"

"SAVE THE ALGAE," Timmy chanted, impressing his science teacher and embarrassing his father at the same time.

"God," Jim whispered under his breath, "could this get any worse?"

Ironically, that's when things did get worse as a bulldozer approached.

"Alright, class, parents," said Cartwright, "Let's form a chain of human defiance."

Everyone stood and locked arms as they stared down the bulldozer, though Jim, Jamie, Kevin and Joey were doing so visibly grudgingly. This was when the bulldozer stopped and the driver stepped out.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE DOING," shouted the worker.

"STOPPING YOU FROM DESTROYING THE HABITAT OF AN ENDANGERED SPECIES OF ALGAE," Cartwright fired back.

"SAVE THE ALGAE," Timmy chanted.

The things I'll do for an easy A thought Teddy with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, okay," said the worker, "You're protesting. Sorry, nobody told me." He then whipped out his cell phone. "Okay, just wait here while I call the cops."

The guys started sweating bullets as the last thing they needed now was for the police to get involved.

A short time later...

While Mr. Cartwright was instructing his students on what to expect when police show up to break a protest.

"Now, class," said Cartwright, "When they try to drag you into the police hauler, remember to go as limp as possible. Be dead weight. Also, don't be alarmed when they start hitting you with batons."

The kids were visibly nervous. Clearly, none of them signed on for police brutality.

Meanwhile, Jamie, Joey, Kevin and Jim were huddled by the old Trans-Am trying to figure a way out of this mess.

"Dude," said Joey, "We are totally screwed. Also, I am SO firing Cartwright after this is over."

"Assuming any of us live that long," said Jamie, "'Cause we're also on the hook for grand theft auto. Granted, that's not a capitol offense, but still."

"Yeah," said Kevin, "Adam's gonna totally kill us when he finds out what we did to his ride!"

"Jim," said Jamie, "I'm releasing you from your oath, man. Get outta here."

"No way," said Jim, "Even if I hadn't sworn on a Medal of Honor, I'm in way too deep to back out now."

"In that case," said Joey, "Any ideas? 'Cause I can't think of anything."

"Only one," said Jim, "While no one's looking, we snatch the varsity jackets and make a break for it. They may find the car, but at least the incriminating evidence will be gone."

"Dude," said a panicked Kevin, "That's it!?"

"It's our only chance," said Jamie, "We didn't spend a whole week pretending to be environmentalist nut jobs just to give up now."

What none of the guys knew was that Teddy and Rachel had overheard the whole conversation. Both felt a sense of moral outrage now that they knew the truth.

"This," said Teddy, "is wrong on so man levels."

Rachel nodded in agreement. "My dad's lying to cover up something he did in high school."

Added Teddy, "and my dad's acting as a willing accoplice." After a pause, Teddy went on. "Despite my general policy of non-involvement, I feel like we should do something."

"On it," said Rachel as she whipped out a cell phone and dialed a number. "Hello, Mr. Rowe, it's Rachel. Listen, you need to get to the old retention pond as fast as you can. They've found the Trans-Am you drove in high school."

Adam's bachelor pad, at that very moment...

Adam was in bed next to the previous night's sexual conquest when he'd answered the phone. He shot right up when he heard what Rachel just told him.

"MY OLD TRANS-AM! I'll be right there!"

He hung up and threw his clothes on in a mad hurry.

"Sorry, babe," said Adam to the naked woman in his bed, "I gotta go, it's an emergency!"

The beautiful woman looked annoyed as Adam rushed out of the bedroom. Her annoyance was due to the realization that she just slept with a chad who'll most likely just string her along until he gets bored and ghosts her.

The old retention pond, a short time later...

Having agreed on a plan, the guys were about to open up the Trans-Am and abscond with the old varsity jackets (i.e. the incriminating evidence) when suddenly...

...SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.....

"Shit," said Jim, "cops are here!"

A whole team of police cars and two police haulers all came to a screeching halt. Out of one of the haulers emerged cops in full riot gear.

"Oh, this is so exciting," exclaimed Mr. Cartwright, "I've always wanted to be a martyr for my principals! KIDS, HOLD YOUR GROUND!"

Before things could escalate further, a Dadge Challenger Hellcat came to a screeching halt. Jamie, Joey and Kevin all gulped with dread as they recognized this as Adam Rowe's car.

"We're busted," said Kevin.

Adam rushed over to the old Trans-Am. While the paint and decals were faded, they were still regocnizable.

"It...it can't be!"

Adam knelt behind the Tran-Am and wiped the pond scum off of the license plate. The plate read...

LDS MAN

...as in Ladies Man. Adam smiled and even wiped away a stray tear.

"IT IS MY OLD CAR!"

Adam actually hugged the rear bumper.

"I'VE MISSED THIS BABY SO MUCH!"

After hugging the car, Adam walked over to Rachel and hugged her.

"Thank you so much!"

As Adam released Rachel, an angry Jamie approached her.

"You called Adam," exclaimed Jamie, "Why?"

"Because," said an indignant Rachel, "You were lying about being an environmentalist the whole time just to cover your ass!"

Added Teddy, "We overheard what you guys were saying earlier."

"SO YOU SOLD US OUT," said an indignant Jim to his son.

Teddy nodded.

"We may only be doing this for a grade," said Teddy, "but Rachel and I aren't the completely dishonest traitors that you guys are. You strung us all along just to cover up an act of personal betrayal."

Jamie suddenly had a guilty look on his face.

"Aw, hell!"

"Jamie," said Adam, "What are the kids talking about?"

Jamie sighed.

"Adam, there's something you need to know about the day you lost this car."

Resigned, Jamie walked over to the Trans-Am, opened the door and got out his old varsity jacket. He then handed it over to Adam.

"Jamie," said a stunned Adam, "What's your letter jacket doing in my Trans-Am?"

Jamie fessed up.

"I lied when I said it got jacked by gangbangers."

Before Jamie could say any more, Kevin and Joey ran up.

"Dude," said Joey in mock surprise, "You stole Adam's car and left it here!?"

"Whoa," added Kevin in an equally dishonest tone, "Jamie, how could you do that to Adam?"

Jamie stared daggers at Joey and Kevin for this one.

"Look, Adam..."

"It was all Jamie," Kevin eclaimed, "Joey, Jeffy and I had nothing to do with it!"

Jim decided this had gone far enough. He wasn't going to stand by while Kevin and Joey throw Jamie under the bus to save their own skins.

"Enough," said Jim as he approached the cops, "Look, if you're going to arrest Jamie then you might as well arrest me too! I agreed to help the guys cover up this twenty-five-year-old crime. Jamie and I even went so far as to lie to our own famies to cover this up. So.." Jim held out his hands. "...if you arrest him, you have to arrest me too."

Jamie and Jim were immeditely tackled to the ground and plced in handcuffs

"YOU RESISTING, CRIPPLE," shouted one cop as he kicked off Jamie's prosthetic legs and the other smacked Jim upside the head with his nightstick. Both Jim and Jamie were then violently dragged into the police hauler.

"Dude," said Kevin, "I can't believe Jamie stole the car."

"Well," said Joey, "Hopefully, Adam, you can get your Trans-Am started. I mean, you are a master mechanic, after all."

That was when Adam decided to call Joey and Kevin out on their BS.

"Tell you what, assholes," Adam barked, "You idiots got my car here, so you can damn well bring it back!"

Both Joey and Kevin hung their heads in embarrassment.

"Like, what gave us away," asked the former QB.

Adam just shook his head dismissively before walking over to Rachel, Teddy and Timmy.

"Listen, since your dads are going downtown, I'll give you kids a ride back."

Adam's Challenger, later...

All three kids had taken Adam up on his offer. Rachel rode shotgun while Timmy and Teddy rode in the back.

"What's gonna happen to our dad's," asked Timmy.

"Well," said Adam, "they're probably gonna have to do community service, since the statute of limitations on grand theft auto has expired. I mean, I wasn't gonna press charges anyway, but I'm still pissed at them for stealing my old Trans-Am, crashing it into a drainage pond and lying to me about it for the last twenty-five years. Besides, your moms will probably bail your dads out as soon as they know what's going on."

"So," said Teddy, "Ultimately, all that's changed is that now you know what really happened to your first car."

Adam nodded. "Yeah, and as I said before, I'm not sure what pisses me off more, stealing my car, crashing it into a pond or the twenty-five years of lying to my face about it."

"How long should we stay mad at them," asked Rachel.

"Well," said Adam, "I'm at an age where it's starting to dawn on me that life's too short to be holding on to grudges. Sometimes, it really is better to let bygones be bygones, so...two weeks, maybe three."

End chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the triplets now middle school aged. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rebuffs an advance by Daryl in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the park with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' people with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Timmy making out with Q Ruttheimer while three girls are practically throwing themselves at Tommy. Final shot is Quinn, Jim and the triplets standing on the front lawn and then being joined by the rest of the regular cast. They all smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"The Evening Nudes"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I
WSBC-TV Studio, day...

Stacy Ruttheimer (nee Rowe) was showing her twelve-year-old daughter, Quinn (Q for short) around the studio. Stacy was a news anchor at WSBC and, as such, was dressed in a business suit consisting of a sky-blue jacket over a white blouse with matching skirt. Q was wearing the t-shirt and jeans that she normally wears when not cheerleading.

"So," said Stacy, "What do you think?"

"I didn't know you pre-taped the eleven o'clock news in the afternoon," said Q.

"We do that," Stacy explained, "Because it's easier than being here at the same time that most people are going to bed."

"By the way," said Q, "Thanks for letting me shadow you for career day."

Stacy smiled. "Thanks for taking an interest in my job."

"Duh," said Q, "Your job is more glamorous than Dad's. I mean, no offense, but running an IT business is kinda nerdy."

Stacy stifled a giggle. It was at this point that a blond, mustachioed man around her age approached.

"Hey, Stacy," he said, "Great show today."

"Thanks, Ron," said Stacy, who then proceeded to introduce her daughter. "Ron, my daughter, Q. Q, this is my co-anchor Ron Nolan."

"Hey, Mr. Nolan," said Q politely.

"Career day, huh," said Ron.

"How'd you know," asked Stacy.

Ron explained, "Elementary school's doing the same thing. Tori brought her son, Evan."

"What's he like," asked Q.

Before Ron could answer, a blond ten-year-old boy ran by flailing around a shirt microphone and screaming.

"I WANNA BE ON TV! I WANNA BE ON TV!!!"

His mother, Tori Jericho, was chasing after him.

"YOUR GONNA BE ON A BUS TO MILITARY SCHOOL IF YOU DON'T CUT IT OUT, YOU LITTLE BRAT!!!!"

Evan's response.

"AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHH!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGGGGHHH!!!"

Stacy, Ron and Q all shook their heads while giving Tori a pitiful look.

"Reminds me of Brian Taylor," Stacy commented.

"Who," asked Q.

"Mrs. Thompson's younger brother," Stacy explained, "he was an out-of-control brat at that age too."

They were then approached by one of the technicians.

"We go live in twenty minutes," he said.

"Live," asked Q.

"Yeah," said Stacy, "We pre-tape the eleven o'clock news, but we do the six o'clock live."

It was at this time that Evan ran by again, this time carrying a punch bowl.

"MINE!!! MINE!!!!"

"PUT THAT BACK ON THE REFRESHMENT TABLE, YOU LITTLE SHIT," screamed a frustrated Tori.

Evan suddenly turned around and blew past Stacy so hard that he spilled the red Kool Aid all over her jacket and blouse.

"NO," shouted a horrified Stacy as her jacket was now ruined. She removed the jacket. "Now I have to do the news in just my white blouse!"

That was when Evan ran by her again. This time, he had a bowl of chocolate ice cream now.

"MOM CAN'T CATCH ME! MOM CAN'T CATCH ME!!!"

Suddenly, Tori tackled her out-of-control son from behind.

"GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE HELLION!"

This caused the bowl of melting ice cream to go flying up and land on Stacy's blouse, staining it all over.

"UGH!!! NOTHING GETS CHOCOLATE OUT!!!"

The dressing room, a few minutes later...

Stacy was looking at the stained jacket and blouse in the mirror.

"Dammit, I go live in fifteen minutes and my outfit's ruined!"

She was actually starting to hyperventilate when her daughter intervened.

"MOM," said Q, "It's okay! Wardrobe's bound to have something."

Stacy calmed down.

"Thanks, Q."

That was when there was a knock on the door.

"COME IN," Stacy called.

The door opened and a female assistant came in.

"Bad news, Mrs. Ruttheimer," said the assistant, "due to our accountants being total cheap-asses this was all I could get."

The assistant then pulled out a skimpy white t-shirt.

"You've gotta be kidding me," said Stacy as she willed herself not to have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry," said the assistant, "but it's the best I can do on such short notice."

"Fine," said Stacy with a resigned sigh as she took the shirt. Stacy then proceeded to take off her jacket and blouse and put the t-shirt on. She then went to the mirror. What she saw made her gasp in horror.

"I CAN'T DO THE NEWS IN THIS! I LOOK LIKE A COLLEGE SLUT!"

The shirt was showing midriff and so tight that the outline of Stacy's bra was readily visible. Not only that, but it had a low-hanging neck that showed a little too much cleavage.

"Mrs. Ruttheimer," explained the assistant, "It's either that, or the stained jacket and blouse. I mean, you can't go live in just a bra."

"I might as well be doing that," Stacy ranted, "With how tight this shirt is!"

Suddenly, Stacy got an idea.

"Wait a minute!"

Stacy took the shirt off. She then took off her bra before putting the shirt back on. Once that was done, she looked again. The absence of an undergarment meant that the shirt now covered her midriff and felt more comfortable.

"Well," said a resigned Stacy, "It's not professional, but at least I can breathe now."

News studio, fifteen minutes later...

Stacy sat behind the anchor desk, trying not to let her embarrassment show. Unfortunately, not only was the shirt so tight that she had to remove her bra to make it fit but the AC was running full-blast in order to keep the stage lights from making people sweat on camera. This caused her nipples to harden and, due to the t-shirt's tightness, everyone could see them. Adding to Stacy's discomfort was that Ron kept trying to sneak a peak down her shirt, which she was trying hard to pretend she didn't notice.

Oh, God! OH, GOD! Stacy thought, I've got pokies on live TV!

She then shook her head and took a deep breath.

Get it together, Stacy! Maybe it won't show on camera!

The director spoke up.

"LIVE IN 5...4...3..."

Then, the theme music played. Once the music stopped...

"Welcome to WSBC Action News, live at six. I'm Ron Nolan."

"And I'm Stacy Ruttheimer. Today's top story..."

Ruttheimer house, at that very moment...

Stacy's husband, Chuck (formerly Upchuck) and their son, Chucky, were watching the news. Both gasped in shock as not only was Stacy wearing a skimpy t-shirt but the pokies were even more visible on camera than in person.

So entranced by the sight that he forgot his teenage son was right there, Chuck had just one thing to say.

"Grrrr...Feisty!"

Looking unfazed, Chucky commented in his usual snarky monotone.

"I can see Mom's nipples."

Casa Carbone...

Quinn, Jim and the triplets were watching the news.

"Oh...my...God," exclaimed Quinn in shock at the sight of Stacy's tight t-shirt and pokies.

"Whoa," said Timmy, who happens to be Q's boyfriend, "That whole family's hot!"

Added Tommy, "Mrs. Ruttheimer's a MILF!"

"Quinn," barked Jim.

"On it, hun," said Quinn as both she and Jim covered the boys' eyes.

Sloane manor...

Sandi scowled disapprovingly at Stacy's revealing attire.

"Pokies on the news," she said in a haughty, dismissive tone, "Not done!"

Thompson house...

"Dude," said Kevin as he watched the news, "She's, like, hot!"

This got him an angry elbow from Brittany.

"OW!"

A frat house at Lawndale State...

Three college frat boys were watching the news.

"Dude," said one frat boy, "Check out the hottie on the news!"

"Whoa," exclaimed the second, "That anchor chick's hot!"

"Man," said the third, "I really wanna put my mouth on those knockers!"

Chris's house...

Jim's brother Chris was watching the news and visibly turned on by the sight of Stacy.

"Dammit, why'd I have to leave my lotion in the bathroom!?"

He then shrugged.

"What the hell."

He unzipped his pants, for reasons that you can probably guess.

Ruttheimer house, that evening...

Stacy and Chuck sat up in bed, preparing to turn in for the night. Stacy was ranting about her day.

"God, it was soooo humiliating!"

"Relax, Stacy," Chuck reassured, "You were hot!"

Stacy smiled. "Thanks, babe, but it was still very unprofessional. I mean, my nipples were visible through that shirt."

"Yeah," said a visibly turned on Chuck before a death stare from his wife made him backpedal, "Um, I mean, yeah, it's unfortunate, but it's a one time incident. Everyone will probably forget about it after a few days."

"Nice save," said Stacy, "but I probably ended up showing enough to violate FCC decency standards. We could get fined and it's my fault!"

"Actually," said Chuck, "Isn't it Tori's fault? I mean, this wouldn't have even happened if she did a better job keeping her kid in line."

"I know," Stacy lamented, "I just hope the station sees it that way."

"Think of it this way," said Chuck, "Now the whole world knows that your body looks great for a forty-two-year-old who had two kids."

"Not helping," said Stacy in a frosty tone that would make Sandi proud. She then took a quick breath to calm down. "Let's just go to sleep. The sooner we do that, the sooner I can start pretending this day never happened."

Chuck leered at his wife.

"Um, Stacy, seeing you in that shirt gave me...grrr...urges. Before turning in, you wanna get a little...grrr, feisty?"

Stacy shot down that idea.

"Sorry, babe, but after what happened today I'm REALLY not in the mood for sex."

Chuck frowned.

"Fine."

He then got out of bed and went to the bathroom to self-serve.

WSBC-TV, the next day...

Stacy was in her office dressed in her usual work attire. She was deep in thought.

God, I hope there aren't any consequences for what happened yesterday!

It was at this point that there was a knock on the door.

"COME IN!"

In came a young Latin woman in her twenties. She was Stacy's assistant, Corina.

"Hey, Corina," said Stacy, "What's going on?"

"Mrs. Ruttheimer," said Corina with concern in her eyes and voice, "News chief wants to have a talk with you...right now."

Stacy's face lost all color.

"eep!"

News Chiefs office, a few minutes later...

Stacy stood contrite in front of the desk of her boss, news chief Lou Jonahson.

(Author's note: Yes, that name is an alamigation of Lou Grant and J. Jonah Jameson.)

Mr. Jonahson, a burly man in his early sixties, looked at Stacy.

"I take it you know why I called you in."

"Yes," said Stacy in an apologetic tone, "Look, Tori's son spilled Kool Aid and ice cream on my outfit and that skimpy shirt was the best the wardrobe department could do on such short notice. It was an accident, and it won't happen again. I...I'm sorry if it got us in trouble."

Mr. Jonahson smiled.

"Don't be sorry, Stacy! Yesterday's broadcast was a huge hit! We haven't seen ratings like that since 9/11! If anything, I should be thanking you for dressing like that on the air."

Stacy was stunned.

"You...you're serious!"

"Yep," said Jonahson, "Apparently, seeing you in a skimpy top sent our ratings through the roof. I called you in because I just got off the phone with our marketing department. They want more of Sexy Stacy!"

"Sexy Stacy," said Stacy with a raised eyebrow.

Jonahson nodded. "That's what the folks in marketing are going with. They say we FINALLY have a shot at crushing WATL during sweeps if we keep going with that angle."

"I see," said Stacy, who clearly didn't know how to feel about this.

"Come on," said Jonahson, "Higher ratings mean more sponsors. Everyone wins! I want you to go over to the wardrobe department. They got something for you to try on."

Wardrobe department, later...

Stacy was wearing a yellow tank top with spaghetti straps. The top was so tight that not only was Stacy not wearing a bra, but it pushed up certain...assets....making them appear larger than they actually were.

"You sure about this," Stacy asked one of the guys in wardrobe. This guy wore tight, colorful clothes and had gelled blonde hair while wearing pink sunglasses.

"Of course," said the guy in an effeminate voice, "You are smokin', girlfriend! Hell, you have what it takes to turn a raging flamer like me straight!"

Stacy couldn't help feeling flattered by the compliment.

News studio, later...

Stacy was seated at her position behind the news desk. Her co-anchor, Ron, couldn't help leering at her

Damn, Ron thought, I didn't know she was THAT hot!

Stacy pretended not to notice that her colleague couldn't keep his eyes off her cleavage.

Damn, she's hot, thought the director. Out loud, he said, "OKAY, ON IN FIVE...FOUR...THREE..."

Once again, the music played. Once it stopped...

"Welcome to WSBC Action News, I'm Ron Nolan."

"And I'm Stacy Ruttheimer..boys."

She'd said boys in a seductive tone and followed that up with a suggestive wink.

Ron continued his spiel.

"Our top story today is..."

Stacy noticed every guy in the studio leering at her. Rather than feeling creeped out, she now found herself feeling flattered.

Still hot at 42...and after having two kids to boot.

Stacy began to feel comfortable with the new direction the station was taking with her image.

Act II
WSBC-TV Studio, day...

Stacy was anchoring the evening news. There were some changes in the studio. The old anchor desk had been replaced with a clear glass one. The other change was Stacy's attire. She was wearing a black blouse that was unbuttoned low enough to show ample cleavage and even some of the lacy red bra that she wore underneath. Not only that, but her pants were white jeans that were so tight as to make the outline of Stacy's panties readily visible. In fact, her co-anchor Ron was regularly sneaking peaks down Stacy's blouse. The men on the camera crew were also ogling Stacy, as was the news director.

"Well," said Ron, "That covers today's events."

Added Stacy, "That's right, Ron." She then looked at the camera. "Thank you for joining us this evening, and don't forget to tune in for the eleven o'clock news, where we continue our week long series about sexuality in the 21st century."

"Tonight's segment," added Ron, "The Female Sexual Response: Nature's Rubix Cube. I'm Ron Nolan."

"And I'm Stacy Ruttheimer, if it's hot, we've got it covered." Her voice took on a suggestive tone. "But not tooooo covered."

"And...," said the head technician, "...we're clear!"

"Alright, people," said the news director, "That's a wrap!"

Stacy and Ron got to talking.

"Great broadcast today, Stacy," said Ron.

"Thanks, Ron," said Stacy, "Although, it'd help if you didn't stare at my boobs every ten seconds."

Ron blushed with embarrassment.

"Noticed, huh?"

Stacy nodded. Before the conversation could continue, the news director approached her.

"Stacy," he said, "I just got word from the higher ups. They aren't very impressed."

"What's wrong," asked Stacy, "My delivery, or Ron's leering?"

"Your wardrobe," the director answered, "You aren't showing enough. Why do you think we got that glass anchor desk? Tomorrow, wear a mini-skirt. People wanna see some leg."

That was when Stacy started to feel uncomfortable, but she said nothing.

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Q and Timmy were walking the halls to their next class. They held hands as they did.

"You know," said Timmy, "Your mom looked good on TV last night."

Q was stunned.

"Since when do you watch the news!?"

"Since I realized how hot your mom is," said Timmy.

The remark prompted a death stare from Q, prompting her boyfriend to immediately backpedal.

"Um...I mean...uh..." Timmy struggled to think of something to say before he was in the dog house.

"Timmy," said Q in a frosty tone, "You don't think I'm hot."

"Well," Timmy said absentmindedly, "It would be nice if you showed a little more. How come you don't dress like that anyway?"

"Two reasons," said an increasingly annoyed Q, "One, this school has a dress code. Two, it costs a lot to look that cheap."

"Come on, babe," said Timmy in a poorly thought out attempt to reassure his girlfriend, "You're just as pretty as your mom, it runs in the family. You should show off your body more, and...," Timmy smiled slyly. "...I'd like it."

Instead of feeling complemented, Q felt offended. "Timmy, I'm your girlfriend, not one of the girls on those sites I found on your computer that one time."

Timmy silently cursed at himself for not deleting his search history.

"In fact," Q continued, anger rising with every word, "I should be enough for you and, no, we aren't going past first base. I've made it clear that we're both too young for THAT much intimacy. We're only twelve, for chrissake!"

"Jeez, Q," said Timmy, "I'm not pushing for...you know...that! It's just that, well, we've been together for more than a year now. Maybe we could show each other a little more, just a little."

Q angrily slapped Timmy in response.

"Beat off to my mom, you jerk!"

With that, Q angrily stormed off. Timmy just stood there looking dumbfounded.

Meanwhile, at WSBC-TV...

Stacy sat in her office and was deep in thought. Her thoughts had to do with the fact that today she was wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt that was tight enough to make the outline of her bra readily visible.

This is so weird. Here I am, a forty-two-year-old news anchor coming to work dressed like a twenty-two-year-old floozy.

She took a sip of her coffee before resuming her inner monologue.

Still, it's flattering to know that I'm still hot at this age. But...

She took a deep breath before finishing the thought.

But it feels wrong, showing my body just to boost ratings. Shouldn't people be watching us to be informed, not tuning in just because they're turned on?

Before she could dwell further on the matter, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Stacy's assistant, Corina, entered.

"Mrs. Ruttheimer, we have a taping in fifteen minutes."

Stacy looked at her watch and gasped.

"Sorry. I...Well, I kinda lost track of the time."

The news studio, a few minutes later...

Stacy was walking towards the anchor desk. Not only was she wearing a tight gray mini-skirt with high-heeled sandals, but the material of her black sleeveless tee was thin enough that the glare of the studio light was making her red bra visible.

"Damn, she's hot," whispered one of the cameramen under his breath.

Stacy heard that, and clearly didn't know whether to feel flattered or creeped out.

"Damn," whispered on of the male interns under his breath, "Mrs. Ruttheimer's a total MILF."

Now, Stacy's feelings settled on creeped out.

Keep it professional, Stacy. It's not like you're expected to sleep with any of them.

Her co-anchor, Ron, had a thought of his own.

Damn, I so need to have an office affair with this woman.

Stacy took her place at the anchor desk.

"Ready, Ron," she asked, trying to ignore his leering.

"Ready, sexy...I mean Stacy," said Ron.

That slip of the tongue made Stacy visibly uncomfortable.

"Um...Ron..."

"Sorry," Ron interrupted, "I didn't mean to say that just now."

"Ron," said Stacy, "I'm only dressing like this and acting flirty on camera because it's what our viewers want."

"I know," said Ron, "Did you know my wife's out of town this weekend?"

"Ron," said Stacy in a stern tone, "I'm a married woman with kids."

"I wasn't propositioning you," Ron lied, "Just making conversation."

Stacy decided to drop the issue, even though she knew her colleague was now trying to snake his way into her pants.

White residence, afternoon...

Teddy Carbone and his best/only friend, Rachel White, were watching TV in her room. On the TV was a split-screen of a beautiful blond woman. On one side, she's wearing a business suit while talking on the phone and filling blanks on a questionnaire. On the other side, she's onstage grinding a stripper pole in just her bra and panties.

"These women conduct surveys by day...AND TAKE IT ALL OFF AT NIGHT! Pollsters Working the Pole, next on Sick, Sad World!"

As the TV cut to commercial, Rachel and Teddy made conversation.

"So," said Rachel, "Timmy's in the doghouse with his girlfriend?"

Teddy nodded. "Apparently, he likes seeing her mom a little too much for Q's liking. When Timmy suggested she dress more like that Q answered him with a slap to the face."

"You think that's bad," said Q, "Jessie, Jenny and Janey got sent to Mr. Black's office for wearing clothes that show a little too much skin."

"Trying to take Tommy's eyes off of Mrs. Ruttheimer, I take it," said Teddy.

Rachel nodded in the affirmative.

Teddy sighed. "I know Mrs. Ruttheimer's only dressing like that because the TV station's making her. It's just a shameless attempt to boost ratings by appealing to the lowest common denominator."

"Hey," said Rachel, "Sex sells is just as true as 'if it bleeds, it leads'."

"You know," said Teddy, "the news is for people who wanna be informed, not horndogs who wanna add Mrs. Ruttheimer to their spank banks."

"True," said Rachel, "but sponsors want money, and sex sells."

Teddy sighed. "Does money ever NOT trump integrity?"

"No," said Rachel, "but it's not like this is crossing a line into outright exploitation."

"How so," asked Teddy.

"Well," said Rachel, "I'm an artist and, like all artists, I see the human body as a thing of beauty rather than something to be ashamed of. Maybe it's the same with Mrs. Ruttheimer."

Just then, a commercial on the TV caught the two kids' attention.

"Don't forget to tune in to WSBC Action News, with Stacy Ruttheimer, America's Sexiest Newslady."

The image was Stacy in a mesh top that showed shoulder and she clearly was not wearing a bra underneath.

"Oh, yeah," Teddy deadpanned, "Nothing exploitative about that image."

Montage scene...
Music: "Sexy and I Know It" by LMFAO

Stacy's anchoring the news. She's wearing a black mesh top with no bra underneath and denim mini-skirt. At one point, they zoom in close enough for the viewers to see her nipples. The next broadcast sees Stacy wearing a red tube top that pushes her breasts up in order to exaggerate their size. In addition, she's wearing a black mini-skirt that's high enough to give people a glimpse of her panties. The men in the studio are visibly turned on by this, as are all the male viewers at home. When the cameras stop rolling, Stacy allows her mounting discomfort to show. The next broadcast has Stacy wearing a blue slip dress that's so tight that she looks like a hooker. She's visibly struggling not to let her growing discomfort show. The following broadcast has Stacy in a black tube top that's so tight it's a miracle her boobs don't pop out. Furthermore, the tube top shows a lot of midriff and the mini-skirt is so mini that the only time her panties aren't showing is when she stands up. After the broadcast, Stacy tried to walk back to wardrobe but the micro-mini keeps hiking up, resulting in hoots and hollers from every guy in the studio. Stacy's expression is now visible anger. Next, the station does a broadcast from the boardwalk at Seaside Heights. While Ron is dressed professionally, Stacy is being forced to wear a red bikini that doesn't cover much of anything. Later, she has to conduct an interview while standing up and the camera keeps focusing on the fact that Stacy's bikini is a thong. After the camera's stop, Stacy groans in mounting frustration. Finally, Stacy's back in the studio. Now, her only top is a lacy black bra and she's not wearing any panties under the mini-skirt. The latter is something the camera zooms in on at one point. After the camera's stop rolling, Stacy's expression makes it clear that she's sick and tired of being sexually objectified.

WSBC-TV, day...

Stacy was in her regular clothes making her way to the wardrobe department. She had an expression of dread on her face.

How much are they gonna make me show on air this time she silently asked herself as she entered wardrobe.

"Ah, Stacy," said the gay wardrobe director, "You're here."

"What is it this time," asked Stacy in a bitter tone, "another revealing bikini, or am I going to do the news completely naked this time?"

"Not yet, sweetie," said the wardrobe director, "You're sporting..." He pulled back a curtain. "...THIS!"

Stacy gasped in horror at the mannequin wearing a transparent white teddy, transparent white panties, thigh-high stockings and white stiletto heels.

"ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?! I MIGHT AS WELL BE NAKED WEARING THAT DAMN THING!"

"Sorry, hon," said the gay man, "Orders from above."

"That's...freaking...IT!!!!!!"

Stacy angrily stormed out of wardrobe.

Conference room, barely a minute later...

The station heads were having their weekly meeting. Among them was Mr. Jonahson, the news chief.

"Sexy Stacy's a hit," said the marketing director, a forty-something man with slicked back black hair, "We're number one in our viewing area! We've got sponsors lining up from here to Tokyo! Not only that, but the flagship station in New York wants to pick up our news broadcasts!"

Suddenly, the door swings open and Stacy angrily storms in.

"TRANSPARENT LINGERIE," she shouted, "WHAT THE HELL!?"

"Mr. Jonahson," said the marketing director while pointing to Stacy's business-casual attire, "Why's Sexy Stacy dressed like she's going to a funeral?"

Stacy angrily answered for her boss.

"Because I'm sick and tired of being objectified for ratings, that's why!"

"Come on, Stacy," said Jonahson, "Have you seen the numbers were pulling in?"

"I don't care," Stacy barked, "I'm a news anchor, not a stripper. We're a local TV station, not OnlyFans. Our viewers should be watching the news to stay informed, NOT to eye-hump me!"

"Come on," said the marketing director, "You're a hit!"

"I should be a hit because I'm a respected journalist," Stacy fired back, "Not because I look great naked!"

"But, Stacy..."

Stacy cut Jonahson off.

"I'm done! I refuse to do the news dressed like a skank any longer!"

"So," said the now nervous marketing director, "I guess now's not a good time to tell you that you'll be doing a special broadcast this weekend."

"Special," Stacy hissed, knowing she won't like what's said next.

"Doing the eleven o'clock news completely naked," said the marketing director.

"UGH!!!!!"

Stacy turned around and angrily stormed out of the office. Once she was gone, everyone gave Jonahson a piercing look.

"Don't worry," said the news director, "I'll take care of it."

The news studio, a few hours later...

Stacy was making her way to the anchor desk. She was wearing a sky-blue business suit, clearly done being sexually objectified for ratings. Stacy was so focused that she didn't even notice the foreboding expressions on the faces of her colleagues, who all clearly knew something that she didn't.

"Mrs. Ruttheimer," came a familiar voice from behind.

Stacy turned around to see Angie Thompson, Kevin and Brittany's 20-year-old daughter, right behind her. Angie, like her mother, was a big breasted blond bombshell. What really shocked Stacy, however, was that Angie was wearing the lingerie that the station tried to make her wear.

"Angie," said Stacy, "What are you doing here...in that!?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," said Angie, "I've got a new job."

"What job," asked a suddenly nervous Stacy.

"Your job," said Angie, "They asked me if I wanna be on TV and I said yes. I'm the news anchor now."

Stacy gasped in shock. At this point, Mr. Jonahson approached.

"Oh, Stacy," he said, "I must've forgot to tell you. You're fired!"

Stacy was horrified.

Act III
Glenfield Middle School, day...

The cheerleaders were in the gym and have just finished practice. The coach, Mrs. Wilson, noticed that one of the cheerleaders, Quinn Ruttheimer, was looking down.

"Q," said Wilson, "Can I have a quick word with you?"

As the other girls made their way to the locker room Q approached Wilson.

"Sorry," said Q, knowing what this is about, "I guess I wasn't in top form today."

"I noticed," said Wilson, "You weren't your usual peppy self."

"I've got a lot on my mind," Q admitted, "My boyfriend and I are having problems and my mother just lost her job."

"I figured that's what's wrong," said Wilson, "But we have a dance competition in Oakwood this weekend and I need all of you girls to have your heads in the game."

Q sighed. "That's another thing that's kinda bothering me," she admitted, "I'm not comfortable with the moves we've been practicing. They're a little...well...risque."

"That's what the people come to see," said Wilson, "Why do you think our dance uniforms show more skin than our game uniforms?"

"Mrs. Wilson," Q protested, "We're in middle school, not college. Isn't it kinda early for us to be...you know."

Wilson nodded in understanding. "I get it. Look, the sad truth is that girls and women will always be judged solely on sex appeal. I think it's disgusting, but there's nothing I can do to change it. If I tried, then I'd just be replaced with someone who's willing to appease the male gaze."

"Just like what the station did to my mom," Q bitterly replied.

"Exactly," said Wilson, "Look, women are never going to be respected for their brains, only their bodies. As an educator, it's my duty to prepare you girls for the real world and that's how the real world works. Always has, always will. Frankly, if we don't give men what they want then they'll just yeet us for a woman who will. Might as well get used to it."

Q said nothing but looked thoughtful (and can you say 'groomer').

Casa Carbone, later that day...

Timmy sat alone in his room and let out a sigh. Jim entered.

"Hey, Timmy," said Jim, "I noticed you're kinda down."

"It's nothing, Dad," Timmy lied.

Jim sat on the bed next to his son.

"You know, Timmy, your mother thinks you and I should talk more and, frankly, I agree. That's why she sent me in here instead of coming in herself."

Timmy sighed.

"Q and I are having problems."

"Figured it was something like that," said Jim.

Timmy explained. "When Q's mom started doing the news dressed sexy I asked Q why she never dresses like that."

Jim cringed slightly. "Timmy, you guys are only twelve!"

"Yeah," said Timmy, "That's what Q said. I wasn't trying to pressure her or anything. I kept asking what the deal was, and she kept getting mad at me."

"Duh," said Jim, "You made her uncomfortable."

"I know," Timmy admitted, "but she didn't have to get so mad."

"Timmy," said Jim, "You know what your problem is? You're assuming you're good enough for her, and you're not."

Timmy was offended. "Yes, I am!"

"No," Jim insisted, "You're not, just like I'm not good enough for your mother."

Timmy stifled a laugh. "Yeah, that's true."

"Hey," said an offended Jim, "I'm trying to impart some wisdom as your father here!"

"Okay," said Timmy.

"Look," said Jim, "Remember last Sunday, when we spent the whole afternoon visiting with Aunt Rita at Better Days?"

Timmy nodded.

Jim went on. "Do you really think I wanted to waste a whole Sunday afternoon listening to Rita bitching about being single in her seventies? No, I did it because it's what your mother wanted and what my wife wants, she gets. That's the price you pay for being with a woman who's way outta your league."

"So," said Timmy, "What should I do?"

Jim explained. "You should march right over to the Ruttheimer's and start seriously kissing Q's ass...before she realizes how much better off she is without you."

Timmy sat there looking thoughtful.

Ruttheimer house, evening...

Q was sitting alone in her room looking at a picture on her cell phone. The image was one of her and Timmy laughing while they hugged. Suddenly, she heard a wrapping sound on the window. She put the phone down and made her way to the window. After opening it, Q looked down to see Timmy in the back yard.

"Timmy," said Q, "What are you doing here!?"

"Q," said Timmy, "Can we talk?"

"Why didn't you just use the door," asked Q.

"I was gonna," said Timmy, "but I heard your mother sobbing inside and that's a little too weird for me. Besides, this is more romantic."

Q was visibly moved by that last sentence. Timmy's sweetness was her weakness.

"There's a ladder under the hedges," said Q as she pointed, "You can use it to climb up."

Timmy went into the hedges and got the ladder. Not being in the best shape, he needed Q's help to climb through the window.

"Timmy," asked Q, "What's going on?"

"Look," said Timmy, "I'm sorry about the other day. I...I should've been more considerate of your feelings. I don't expect you to do anything you aren't ready for. I want you to show me your body, but only if that's what you want. I...I love you enough to wait. If it never happens, that's okay. Just being your boyfriend is enough for me."

Q was visibly touched. "Oh, Timmy!"

They kissed. After the kiss broke...

"Actually," said Q, "I...well, I've been thinking about that. I mean, it's been more than a year since we first got together. Maybe...maybe it's time we started doing more than just hold hands and kiss."

Timmy was puzzled as he definitely didn't expect this.

"Um...like what?"

"Like," said Q, "Maybe I could, you know, show you a little more....a little more skin."

Timmy felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"I...I thought you weren't ready for that," he said nervously.

"I wasn't," said Q, "but now I am."

"Q," said Timmy, "you don't have to..."

"No," Q interrupted, "I want to. Look, I'm not saying we touch or anything. Maybe we just take off our shirts for starters."

Timmy started to get excited.

"You mean it!?"

Q nodded.

"I'll go first," said Timmy, "It's not fair that I see yours without showing you mine."

With that, Timmy took off his t-shirt and dropped it on the floor.

"You have a nice body," said Q.

Timmy was skeptical.

"You...you don't mind that I'm fat?"

"To me," said Q, "you're beautiful." She then took a breath to steel her nerves. "Okay, here it goes."

Timmy watched excitedly as Q removed her shirt and dropped it on the floor. Next, she began to remove her training bra and drop that on the floor. No sooner was Q topless when the door to her room opened.

"Hey, Q," said Chuck, "Your mother and I...GAH!!! WHAT THE GODDAMN HELL!!!"

Busted, both Q and Timmy covered their chests and said the following in unison.

"EEP!"

The living room, a short time later...

Q was getting a major earful from both of her parents. When Chuck told Stacy what he'd walked in on it snapped her right out of her crying fit and sent her straight into stern parent mode. First, she called Quinn to come pick her son up and told her what happened. Now, Q was being read the riot act by her parents while Timmy was almost certainly getting his from both Quinn and Jim.

"Taking off your clothes...IN FRONT OF A GUY," said an outraged Chuck.

Added Stacy, "Quinn Anastasia Ruttheimer, what the hell were you thinking, young lady!?"

"Mom," said Q, "We weren't gonna do anything, I swear! Timmy and I were just gonna hang out with out shirts off, that's all!"

"THAT'S HOW IT STARTS," Chuck yelled, "If I hadn't walked in when I did...oh, God, I don't even wanna think about that!!"

It was at this point that Q's brother, Chuckie, walked by. He spoke to his sister in his usual snarky monotone.

"You flashed Timmy."

"CHUCKIE," Chuck barked, "STAY OUTTA THIS!!"

Chuckie walked out of the room, after which both parents turned their attention back to their daughter.

"As for you, young lady," said Stacy in a stern tone, "Just what the hell were you thinking, taking your shirt off in front of a boy like that."

"Is he pressuring you," said Chuck, "DID THAT PERVERT TOUCH YOU!?!"

"NO," said Q, "Taking off our shirts was my idea!"

Ironically, Stacy was the one keeping a cool head while Chuck went into hysterics.

"Oh, God," said Chuck, horrified that his little girl is growing up, "OH, SWEET JESUS CHRIST, NO!!!"

"CHUCK," Stacy barked, "calm down! We're supposed to be the adults here!" She then turned to Q. "And you're still a child, so I'll say it again...WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?"

"I...," Q replied nervously, "I just want Timmy to keep liking me. I...I just thought if I showed him more of my body then he won't eventually ditch me for a girl who will."

Chuck's face was losing color.

"I...I can't deal with this!"

He made a mad dash from the living room straight for the liquor cabinet.

"Q," said Stacy in a stern but understanding tone, "Where in the hell did you get a stupid idea like that?"

Q sighed. "Look, you just got fired because the TV station wanted you to show more and you said no. I don't wanna end up like that. I don't wanna get dumped just because I didn't wanna do stuff with my boyfriend."

Stacy sighed. "Q, I was only showing too much skin because the station was making me. I hated it."

"Yeah," said Q, "and look what happened when you said no. You know, the moves we're practicing in cheerleading right now are kinda...sexual. I was uncomfortable, but we have to let guys objectify us, because they'll reject us if we don't."

Stacy cringed slightly. Not only had she been playing into that mentality until recently, but what her daughter just said was similar to her own thoughts in high school when she lost her virginity to a guy who got her to put out on the first date.

"Q," said Stacy, "It shouldn't be like that. I should have a job because I'm good at it, not because the guys like staring at my body. You shouldn't have to take off your clothes to make Timmy like you. He should be with you because he likes YOU, not because you let him see you in various states of undress."

"I know, Mom," said Q, "but that's not how the world works, and there's nothing we can do to change it. I was just doing what I had to do because I don't wanna lose at a rigged game, like you did."

Stacy now had a guilty expression on her face.

"Q, go to your room," said Stacy, "I need to make a phone call."

Q then shuffled off to her room. Once alone, Stacy had the following thought.

My daughter's starting to buy into the same mentality that cost me my career! No way in hell I'm letting that happen!

Stacy picked up the phone and dialed a number.

WSBC-TV, the next day...

They were taping the eleven o'clock news. Angie was at the anchor desk in a skimpy black tube top with a leather micro-mini and matching pumps.

"And, like, that's all for tonight," said Angie in a flirty tone.

Both the director and Mr. Jonahson were behind the scenes.

"God," said the director, "She's hot!"

"Hot," said Jonahson, "And easy."

It was at this point that Stacy approached them, accompanied by a blond woman in a business suit. Both of them had determined expressions on their faces.

"Mr. Jonahson," said Stacy.

Jonahson turned around.

"Stacy! What are you doing here!?"

He then looked at the blond woman.

"And who's your lovely friend?"

The woman introduced herself.

"Jasmine Schrecter," she said as she handed a folded piece of paper to Mr. Jonahson, "Here you go."

"What's this," asked Jonahson as he took the paper.

"It's a subpoena," said the smirking Jasmine.

Jonahson's eyes went wide as he looked at the paper.

"YOU'RE SUING US!?!"

"Damn right, we are," said Stacy.

Jonahson read the subpoena out loud.

"Wrongful termination, sexual harassment, exploitation...BLACKMAIL!!!" He looked at the two. "JESUS CHRIST, YOU'RE GONNA BANKRUPT US!"

"Maybe," said Jasmine, "You should of thought of that before firing my client just because she doesn't wanna be a sex object."

Jonahson frowned, knowing that the station has no chance of winning.

Glenfield Middle School, the next day...

Timmy and Q were walking the halls and talking.

"So," said Timmy, "Your mom got her job back."

"Yeah," said Q, "And they increased her salary. They didn't fire Angie, though. They just added a new segment to the late news: Bikini Time."

"Cool," said Timmy.

The death stare from Q made him nervous.

"Um...I mean.."

"It's okay," said Q, "I get it. You guys really are just horny pigs."

"Um, yeah," said Timmy, "So, about the other night..."

"No way," Q interrupted, "We aren't doing anything that involves removing clothes again for a LONG time, and you'll just have to accept it."

"That's not what I wanted to ask," said Timmy, "How long are you grounded?"

"A month," Q answered, "Also, I quit cheerleading."

Timmy was stunned.

"Your parents made you quit cheerleading!?"

"No," said Q, "I did that on my own."

"But," said Timmy, "you like cheerleading!"

"Not anymore," said Q, "I mean, we were just future sex objects in training and I'm done playing into that system. I want people to like me because I'm smart, not because I look good doing splits in a skimpy uniform."

"I see," said Timmy, "So, they grounded you for a month. My parents did that too."

"Dad was gonna send me to an all girl Catholic School," said Q, "but Mom talked him out of it."

"My dad wanted to send me to military school," said Timmy, "but Mom made him change his mind."

"Also," said Q, "Dad said you're no longer welcome in our house, and even Mom couldn't make him budge on that one."

"That's okay," said Timmy, "being around your parents feels kinda weird after what happened anyway."

They didn't notice that they'd passed by Teddy and Rachel.

"So," said Rachel, "Everything's back to normal."

"Hey," said Teddy, "I tried to get Timmy shipped off to military school, but Mom made it clear that she'll gut Dad with a dull spoon if he does that."

"Well," said Rachel, "You've made it this far under the same roof as your idiot brothers."

"But," said Teddy, "Can I last until I go to college with my sanity intact?"

"That," said Rachel, "Is the great mystery of our time."

They exchanged smirks.

End chapter.

Chapter Text

Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles

First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the triplets now middle school aged. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany rebuffs an advance by Daryl in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out at the park with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' people with visible disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Timmy making out with Q Ruttheimer while three girls are practically throwing themselves at Tommy. Final shot is Quinn, Jim and the triplets standing on the front lawn and then being joined by the rest of the regular cast. They all smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...

Lawndale
this episode:
"Quinn Gets Medieval"
written by
WildDogJJ

Act I
A street in Lawndale, day...

Jim was driving his new car, a 2025 Mustang GT500, down the road. Soon, he was approaching his destination, a Medieval Times location. For the uninitiated, Medieval Times is a franchise of dinner theatres/amusment parks themed on Europe in the middle ages. Jim was traveling to this particular location because the local franchise holder, one Edward Ratzinger, was interested in sponsoring both S'mores 'n' Pores and Jim the Car Guy. The only reason Quinn wasn't along was because today was one of the days that she spends managing the restaurant that she and Jim co-own, Quinn's Roaster. This Medieval Times location included the dinner theatre with exterior shaped like a European castle from the middle ages complete with moat. Adjacent to this was a replica of a real medieval town with guided tours and games. Basically, Medieval Times is a permanent medieval fair. Since Jim was here on business, he drove around to the service gate in back. Upon arriving, he was somewhat bemused to see that the security guard manning the gate was dressed in chain mail with a red tunic over it that had a standing lion image on the front. The security guard was also holding a fake spear. Jim approached the gate and brought his car to a stop as the guard approached.

"Who goes there," asked the guard.

"Jim Carbone," said Jim, "Of Q and J productions. I have an appointment with Mr. Edward Ratzinger."

"Ah, you mean King Edward," said the guard, keeping in character, "He expects thee but, alas, I cannot permit thee to pass in that horseless carriage and strange manner of dress for they do not exist in the year of our Lord 1290."

Jim rolled his eyes. "You've gotta be kidding me?"

The guard momentarily broke character. "Listen, I gotta follow franchise procedure, buddy."

"Isn't this a little over the top," said Jim.

"Look," said the guard, "The guy in the beer truck was cool about it."

Jim let out a frustrated sigh.

Later...

Jim was riding a horse drawn hay wagon towards the castle replica. He found this annoying for two reasons. One was that they made him change clothes. He was wearing a green wool shirt and wool trousers, both of which itched like hell. The leather slippers were also uncomfortable. The second thing Jim found annoying was that the wagon driver would not stop singing.

"With a hey-nanny-nanny, hey-nanny-nanny, hey-nanny-nanny and a ho, ho, ho."

The driver then spoke to Jim.

"Pray, good sir, wilst thou sing with me?"

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Just drive the damn wagon."

They soon entered an arched castle entrance marked "his majesty's men only". Later, after getting off the hay wagon Jim was escorted to what looked like a castle throne room by fake guards. Seated on the throne was the franchise holder for this Medieval Times location, Edward Ratzinger, or King Edward as he preferred.

King Edward was dressed like an actual medieval European king. He wore fine clothes of red and purple, with a sword sheathed in his belt and a long purple cape with white frills along the edges. Atop his reddish brown hair was a jeweles crown. He also sported an impressive beard. He spoke with a British accent that sounded similar to the voice of Lucius Malfoy in the Harry Potter movies.

"Ah," said King Edward, "You must be the maker of carriages. Welcome to mine kingdom."

"Thanks, Mr. Ratzinger," said Jim.

"In the future," said King Edward, "I would prefer to be addressed by either King Edward or your majesty."

"My apologies," said Jim, "You wanted to meet with me, to discuss a potential sponsorship, your majesty."

"Yes," said the wannabe king as he stood up, "Walk with me. I shall give thee a tour of my kingdom whilst we discuss the matter of business with your guild."

Outside, later...

As Jim and King Edward walked through the fake medieval town, they discussed business.

"As you can see, Lord Carbone," said Edward, "We offer a highly immersive experience. Visitors to this realm expect to be transported to the year 1290, and I wilst not disappoint them. Allow me to show thee our latest attraction."

King Edward led Jim to a rolled coaster that was under construction.

"Behold, Dragon Rider," said Edward, "The first roller coaster at any Medieval Times location. I hath spared no expense in constructing this thrill ride. However, I need to increase attendance at both the town and the dinner theatre in order to make Dragon Rider worth the moneys invested. To that end, I am willing to pay thee twenty stone for every video in which you entice people to visit my kingdom."

"Ten stone," said a puzzled Jim.

Explained the King, "That's two-thousand dollars in your peoples coin."

Jim was practically salivating at the prospect of being paid a two grand every time he name drops this place. He immediately regained his composure.

"Your majesty," said the impressed Jim, "Once I run this by my business partner, aka my wife, I can confidently say you'll have yourself a deal." He held out his hand. "For now, let's shake on it."

"Huzzah," said the fake king as he grabbed Jim's wrist and shook, "We have an accord!"

Jim shook his wrist back.

Casa Carbone, evening...

Jim, Quinn and the triplets were seated at the kitchen table having dinner. Jim was telling them how his meeting with King Edward went.

"It was the weirdest thing," he said, "We shook wrists instead of hands."

"Why'd you do that," asked Timmy.

Added Tommy, "Wouldn't it have been easier to just shake hands?"

"Actually," said Quinn, "I've heard of this. Apparently, people in the middle ages shook hands like that because personal hygiene was so bad that most hands were disease ridden."

"Mom," said Teddy, "according to most historians that's just an urban myth."

"God, Teddy," said Tommy disdainfully, "could you possibly be any geekier?"

"BOYS," Quinn barked, "don't start!" She then returned to the subject of an endorsement deal with Medieval Times. "I can't believe we're gonna be paid two grand per video for this!"

"I know," said Jim, "We'll finally be able to install his and hers sinks in our bathroom. No more mistaking your hairspray for deodorant."

Added Quinn, "And I won't have to stare at used shaving cream while brushing my teeth anymore."

"This place sounds fun," said Timmy, "Can we go?"

"Why not," said Jim, "Your mother and I need to finalize the deal. We can make a family outing of it." He turned to Quinn. "And I'm sure King Edward would love to meet my queen."

"Flattery," said Quinn, "will get you VERY far, my studly king."

"Mom," said Tommy, "Dad, ew!"

Medieval Times, a few days later...

The Carbones were walking the fake medieval village.

"This," said Tommy, "is SO lame!"

"I think it's pretty cool," said Timmy. "How about you, Teddy?"

"Right now," said Teddy, "I'm just thinking of all the historical inaccuracies."

"Dammit, Teddy," said Jim, "Don't you DARE point that out to Mr. Ratzinger! I really don't wanna tank this deal."

"Ah," said Teddy, "so once again I sacrifice my integrity for the almighty dollar."

"Teddy," said Quinn in a stern tone, "How many times have I told you not to antagonize your father?"

Teddy said nothing but flashed a Daria-like smirk.

Jim then pointed. "There's Mr. Ratzinger. Now, he prefers to be called King Edward. Remember that."

King Edward was seated on a throne under an awning that read "Meet the King". A couple of teenage boys walked by, prompting the king to stand up, draw and raise his sword mightily.

"WE MAKE WAR WITH FRANCE ON THE MORROW!"

"Dude," said one of the teenagers to the other, "that's so gay."

The two teenagers walked away snickering as Edward sheathed his sword and sat back down.

"Insolent spawns of harlots," he muttered.

It was at this point that the Carbones approached.

"Ah," said Edward, "My newest allies!"

"Your majesty," said Jim, "I'd like you to meet my wife and kids. Our boys, Tommy, Timmy and Teddy."

"Ah," said Edward, "I see thou hath proven thine virility by producing not one heir, but three."

"My wife and business partner," said Jim, "Quinn."

Quinn offered her hand.

"It's a pleasure, your majesty."

"The pleasure," said King Edward, "Is mine, Queen Quinn." He stood up and took her hand in his. "Rumors have spread wide of your beauty, Queen, but they hardly do thee justice." He then kissed her hand.

"Why, thank you, your majesty," said a flattered Quinn.

"So," said Jim, "about the sponsorship deal..."

The King interrupted Jim. "We mustn't discuss matters of trade in front of the fairer sex."

Quinn was offended by this. "Excuse me! I'm not just Jim's wife, I'm also his business partner."

Edward narrowed his eyes at Quinn as he did not appreciate being contradicted. Sensing the sudden increase in tension, Jim immediately intervened.

"Um, Quinn," said Jim, "Why don't you and the boys go around and enjoy the day? I can take it from here."

"But, Jim.."

Jim pulled Quinn aside and whispered in her ear.

"You want those his and her sinks or not!"

Quinn calmed down as she wanted this deal just as badly as her husband.

"I see your point. Just make sure you don't sign anything without showing me first."

Quinn then turned to her sons, visibly miffed that she's being shut out of negotiations when the business is just as much hers as it is Jim's.

"Come on, boys, let's go!"

Quinn and the kids left.

The throne room, a short time later...

Jim was reading the contract while King Edward sat in his throne.

"Well," said Jim, "everything seems to be in order. I'll show these to Quinn and then return them with our signatures."

"You know," said Edward, "I find it odd that your queen is a co-ruler of your kingdom."

"Well," said Jim, "that's how it works with us. I know it's inconvenient, your majesty, but mutually profitable."

At this point, a young woman dressed as a royal servant brought a cup to Edward.

"Here is thine drink, sire."

The King took one sip, then angrily spat it in the woman's face.

"THIS IS GROG! I REQUESTED MEADE, YOU INSOLENT PEASANT!"

"I...I apologize, my liege," said the woman as she took back the cup and left in an uncomfortable hurry. Jim couldn't help noticing the frightened look in her eyes.

"Good service is so hard to find," said King Edward, "You know, Lord Carbone, your queen seems obedient enough. With her in my employ, it would cement the bond between our two kingdoms."

Jim was hesitant, especially if Edward's treatment of the waitress just now was any indication of how employees are treated in general.

"I...I don't know if she'd be okay with that."

King Edward raised an eyebrow.

"You do want my sponsorship, don't you?"

Jim gulped.

"I'll talk to her."

The King grinned triumphantly.

"That's all I ask of thee."

Casa Carbone, evening...

Jim and Quinn were in the home office. He was pitching the fake king's proposal to Quinn. Her response surprised him.

"Of course I'd like to work at Medieval Times for a bit!"

"You're serious," said a stunned Jim.

"Duh," said Quinn, "it sounds fun, and I want those new sinks in our bathrooms just as much as you!"

"I'm not sure," said Jim. He was about to tell Quinn what kind of treatment he'd seen a waitress subjected to but immediately thought better of it. I tell her what I saw, and she might nix the whole deal. "Quinn, are you sure? Between S'more 'n' Pores, the restaurant and parenting three twelve-year-old boys you're pretty busy already."

Quinn was dismissive.

"Jim, how hard can it be? I mean, when my high school had a medieval fair, I played Emily in Canterbury Tales. Temporarily working at a Medieval Times can't be all that different."

"Quinn," said Jim, "If I recall the story correctly, didn't a riot break out in the auditorium?"

Quinn waved her hand dismissively.

"That was only because Jeffy read the wrong script, and my dad went berserk when everyone started laughing after he said the wrong lines."

Jim sighed, realizing he couldn't talk Quinn out of this without torpedoing the endorsement deal.

I hope I don't regret keeping silent about this.

Medieval Times, the next day...

Quinn and Jim were in the personnel office. The hiring manager, incidentally, was Artie the UFO guy.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carbone," said Artie, "but there are currently no open queen, princess or noblewoman positions."

Quinn was disappointed but undeterred.

"Well," she said, "I took horse-riding lessons as a kid in Texas. I'm not saying I play a knight in the dinner show, but maybe I can show off some horse tricks."

Artie shook his head.

"It's like this, Mrs. Carbone, you're a woman. Except for serving soda during the dinner show, we're pretty strict about historical accuracy. You're pretty much looking at serving wench, cleaning wench and stable wench."

"I see," said a disappointed Quinn, "I'll take cleaning wench. I love to clean, after all."

Jim was silently trying to reassure himself that letting Quinn do this is a good idea.

Maybe what I saw with the serving wench the other day was just a one-time thing. Maybe it's not indicative of how female employees are treated.

Meanwhile, in the fake village...

A woman was in the stocks while a crier was reading out the charges.

"HEAR YE, HEAR YE! FOR THE CRIME OF HAVING HER OWN OPINION, THIS INSOLENT WENCH IS TO BE PELTED HENCFORTH TIL SUNSET!!"

The tourists began throwing food at the woman.

Act II
Medieval Times, day...

Artie was at an open tent at the fake Medieval town showing Quinn how to do her job of reenacting the role of a cleaning wench.

"As the tourists walk by," said Artie as he handed Quinn a wicker stick, "beat the dirty rug with this. After they leave, sprinkle some dirt on the rug and wait for the next group."

"Okay," said Quinn, "I just hope they buy someone as attractive and popular as me being a cleaning wench."

"Great," said Artie. He then glanced left and right before whispering in her ear. "By the way, if any tour groups include people with gray skin, large heads and oval shaped black eyes, tell me right away. I took this job so the aliens wouldn't find me again."

As Artie left Quinn stood their with a freaked out expression. Seeing this, a brunette woman approached her and spoke.

"He told you he was being stalked by aliens, didn't he?"

Quinn nodded.

"Figures," said the brunette, "that guy is SO delusional."

It was at his point that a blond woman covered in raw eggs and rotten tomatoes with a haggard expression on her face approached.

"Ew," said Quinn, "What happened to you?"

The blond spoke in a fake English accent.

"I was put in the stocks for mine sloth and impertinence."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

The blond replaced her fake British accent with a real American one.

"Listen, you REALLY don't want the king to catch you breaking character. He once threw me in the dungeon just for humming a Michael Jackson song." She then extended her hand. "My name's Jessica Tillman, by the way."

Quinn shook Jessica's hand. "Quinn Carbone."

"I know," said Jessica, "I'm subscribed to your YouTube channel. What are you doing here?"

Happy to meet one of her many subscribers, Quinn smiled as she answered.

"My husband and I are trying to secure Mr. Ratzinger...I mean King Edward...as a sponsor. This job is a way of sweetening the deal."

"Visitors approach," said the brunette wench.

Jessica got back into character.

"To thine tasks, everyone!"

A man dressed as the town crier was leading a group of tourists around the fake town. He spoke with a fake English accent.

"Now you hath seen the blacksmith shop and the stables. Let me now show thee more humble beasts of burden...the wenches!"

As Quinn beat the rug, she looked at the tourists and smiled. She then proceeded to explain what she was doing.

"I'm a cleaning wench, beating dirt out of a rug and..."

The town crier interrupted in a hostile tone.

"Who addressed thee to speak, wench!?"

"I addressed myself," said Quinn, slightly put off by the confrontational tone.

"Best learn thine place, insolent woman," the crier threatened, "or thou could be placed in irons."

"Quinn," Jessica warned, "Hold thy tongue?"

"Oh, right," said Quinn, who remembered that she's supposed to pretend that it's the year 1290. "I'm beating dirt from a rug. This is how we cleaned before vacuum cleaners."

Asked the crier, "What are these 'vacuum cleaners' of which thou speak?"

"Oh, right," said Quinn, "See, in the future we'll use sucking machines called vacuum cleaners to clean rugs. Until then, I have to beat the dirt out of the rug."

"Oh," said the crier in a hostile tone, "If thou can foretelleth the future, then perhaps thou art a witch!"

Jessica sprang to Quinn's defense. "She's no witch, good sir! Merely touched in the head!"

Facing the crowd while pointing at Quinn, the crier barked, "THIS HARLOT IS A WITCH, AN APOSTLE OF SATAN, A HERETIC...SHE MUST DIE BEFORE HER SATANIC POISON SPREADS!"

It was at this point that King Edward approached, accompanied by Jim.

"How now," barked the king, "Is there unrest in my kingdom?"

One of the wenches, a raven haired woman, pointed at Quinn.

"SHE'S A WITCH, MY LIEGE!"

The King glared at Jim. Feeling the pressure, Jim said, "She's no witch, she just doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut."  Jim followed this with a glance at Quinn that wordlessly asked 'are you trying to tank this deal'.

Quinn stared daggers at her husband as she clearly did not appreciate him throwing her under the bus just to remain in a potential sponsor's good graces. She then walked right up to King Edward and handed him her wicker beating stick.