Now the story of a wealthy family who lost everything and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together. It’s Arrested Development.
Michael, Lindsay, and Buster woke up to find a surprise.
Michael and Lindsay, in bathrobes, and Buster, in a pajama onesie, enter the foyer.
“You know, Lindsay, this is the fifth time this week you’ve accidentally gone to the bathroom in the middle of the night and ended up in my bed.”
“I’m sorry, Michael, it’s late and I’m tired.”
“I really wish you would just choose, Lindsay,” Buster comments, “sometimes I have bad dreams and I’d really like to know what room to come to.”
In the kitchen, food is cooking.
“Uncle Oscar,” Michael says, “what’s the occasion?”
The only time Oscar had ever cooked them food, it was because he had Good Intentions. It was a rather high-quality form of North Californian marijuana.
“Hey, uncle-father Oscar.”
But the surprise was not so much that Oscar was cooking, but rather that it wasn’t Oscar at all who was cooking.
George Sr. turns around, “Michael, Lindsay, Buster, it’s me.”
Michael and Lindsay are stunned.
“Oh my god, you’re not uncle-father Oscar, you’re father-uncle George!”
“Dad, where have you been?” Michael asks, “For the last four years?”
George Sr., nonchalant, answers, “Oh, you know, here and there. A lot of there, mostly. I met with some old friends.”
October 2006: George Sr. meets with a tall, balding, white-haired man his age. He strongly resembles John Lithgow.
Back in the kitchen, Michael asks, “Uncle John? I thought they locked him up for thinking there was going to be an alien invasion.”
“Well, for your information, he thought he was part of an alien invasion. And they let him out. He’s still got twenty good years left to enjoy life. And let me tell you, he’s enjoying it.”
Archive footage has been censored.
“So, have I missed much?”
Only that Michael had rebuilt the Bluth Company from the ground up, Lindsay and Tobias had split up, George Michael and Maeby had graduated high school and college and were now successful in their respective fields of business and film, GOB had found reasonable success with his magic act and was very close with his newfound son, Lucille had gone to jail, and Buster had finally cut the umbilical cord with Lucille and had appeared on national television showing off his scholarly acumen. But none of this was the biggest news that the family had to give George Sr.
Michael smiles, stating, “Well, Dad, there actually is some very big news, but I’ll let Lindsay tell you.”
Nearly bursting at the seams, Lindsay proclaims, “I opened a perfume store.”
This was not the big news that Michael was alluding to.
The reason Lindsay had opened a perfume store is relevant, though. After being told by her parents that she wasn’t biologically related to the family, Lindsay dedicated most of her time when she wasn’t starting businesses trying to seduce Michael, who as CEO of the Bluth Company, was the type of man she always wanted.
In a photo dated 1/2/2011, Lindsay stands in front of the same store front as her previous businesses, labeled “In Fragrance Delicto.”
Some weeks previous, at the new model home, Lindsay sprays herself liberally with a perfume. She scribbles on a notepad, “Perfume Savagely Irresistible, Trial 1.”
As Michael walks in the door, she enthusiastically greets him. “Hey, Michael, guess what?”
Michael sniffs a few times. “Lindsay, you reek of vomit. Are you sick?” He presses his hand on her head. Lindsay looks pleased. “You don’t feel warm. I hope you’re not experimenting with bulimia. You need to get Mom’s voice out of your head. You look great as you are.” With his he walks into the kitchen.
Lindsay remains, and on her notepad writes, “Partial success. Possibly not result of perfume.”
This sometimes required sabotaging Michael’s dates.
Michael comments to Sally, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He gets up.
Immediately, Lindsay, hiding behind a menu with giant sunglasses at a nearby table, pops up and takes Michael’s chair.
“Lindsay?”
Speaking quickly, Lindsay comments, “Hi, Sally, I just wanted to let you know that Michael is an amazing man and you are so lucky.”
“Thanks.”
“And, just so you know, Michael is amazing in bed, if you know what I mean.” Lindsay winks awkwardly.
“That’s not exactly a euphemism. How would you..?” Sally’s eyes go wide.
“It’s not like we’re related… Oh, bleep, he’s coming back. Don’t tell him I was here. See ya Sunday.” She races off. At her table, a waiter is wondering what to do with the check.
Michael sits down to see Sally’s disgusted face.
He apologizes, “I’m sorry. I just had to go to the restroom.”
Later, at the model home, Michael storms in.
Lindsay, reading a magazine and trying unsuccessfully to look innocent, asks, “So, how did your date with Sally go?”
“Horrible. What did you tell her?”
“Busted, huh? I’ll have you know that I said wonderful things about you.”
This was true.
Michael examines her. “Eh, you’re not that good at lying.”
This was not.
“I’m 35,” she tells a man in a bar.
Though she’s wasn’t lying on this occasion.
Having she found out that she was three years older than she previously thought, she figured she had limited time to find a new husband before she became a fat, old hag.
“…a fat, old hag…” Lindsay was saying to her brother, who stared at her in disbelief.
Her words.
Also her mother, Lucille’s.
What Lindsay didn’t realize is that she had no reason to marry Michael. The things that she sought from the marriage: love, affection, financial support; Michael already provided her with. In fact, there was one thing she was seeking from the relationship that Michael would not provide, and she was able to obtain that on her own.
Lindsay walks into a dating agency. She asks the receptionist, “So, where’s the nearest…” and lowering her voice, “…adult toy shop?”
The receptionist pulls out a manila envelope labeled, “For Unsatisfied Customers,” and gives it to Lindsay, “Your best bet is the one on
Linsday walks home holding a small brown box.
“What?” she asks, noting Michael’s uncomfortable stare.
“There’s nothing more conspicuous than an inconspicuous plain brown box.”
Leaning over, Lindsay flirted, “Wouldn’t you like to know what under this lid?”
“I can already see,” Michael answered dryly, “you’re having a Tara Reid moment.”
Sliding her sleeve back up, Lindsay giggles. “Oh, Michael… maybe I’ll have a Britney Spears moment someday.” She winks awkwardly.
“Oh, Michael…” indeed.
Back at the new model home, George Sr. is admiring the house, “Wow, it really looks good, Buddy. You’ve really turned the Bluth Company around. Your mother’s not…?”
“Not even getting weekly newsletters,” Michael responds.
Lucille had been sentenced to six years in prison, three without parole. At first, she had a hard time getting used to it.
“Guard, I demand something besides orange. You’re would not believe how unattractive it is with my complexion.”
“Guard, I demand to make an appointment with your best plastic surgeon. Look at these crow’s feet!”
“Guard, I demand a martini, Cloud Mir vodka preferably, two olives, stirred not shaken.”
But soon her natural talents came into play.
Three weeks later, “Guard, may I have a word with you?”
The warden, a tall, unshakable-looking woman, comes to Lucille’s cell. “Listen, Cruella, I don’t care what side of the tracks you come from, but here, I am the queen, the judge, the jury, and the executioner. And I’ve had enough of your—”
Lucille briskly cut her off, calling out, “Ladies, the Wicked Witch would like to hear her favorite song.”
All at once, the entire row of cells began singing in unison, “The French are glad to die for love/They delight in fighting duels/But I prefer a man who lives/And gives expensive jewels…” The warden looks suitably shaken.
“So, here’s the real deal, Missy,” Lucille spat out at the guard, “there’s going to be some changes around here. This is not a threat. It’s a promise. And, let me let you in on a little secret. I know your boss, and he would give his left thumb for a roll in the hay with me. And if you’re cooperative, I can get you a very lucrative position as some place that’s not as much of a dump as this. Do we have an understanding?”
The warden took a moment to review Lucille’s offer.
Two days later, Lucille is sitting in her cell, two illegal immigrants giving her a manicure and a pedicure. With her free hand she is drinking a martini. She comments to her waitress, not looking at her, “That was magnificent. Where did you learn to bartend?”
“Oh, I’m here for twenty-eight consecutive counts of serving alcohol to minors.”
“Isn’t that the kind of thing they usually just fine?”
“Well, I’m a third grade teacher and there was this Halloween party…”
“Bored now.” Lucille without flinching, states, “Catalina, I can see that shiv. You try anything, and you’ll be tasting the wrath of White Power Jill.”
From the top bunk, a woman with short blond hair leaps down, holding her own shiv. Catalina lays down her weapon.
“I tell you, Catalina, there’s nothing to be gained from my death. I mean, ever since you started working for me, we’ve had chimichangas every Tuesday. That should be enough to appease you people.”
And while this did turn out to be a rather expensive change for the jail, the sheer number of inmates applying to work for Lucille left her no choice but to start a business from the confines of her jail cell. Soon, the crime rate in
There is a long line of Hispanic women outside of the Border Protection Headquarters, all claiming they’re illegal immigrants. Some of them are obviously lying.
“Hey, I know you,” said the agent, “are you that woman who plays George Lopez’s wife on that TV show? You’re really illegal? I could have sworn you said you were like third generation.”
Back at the model home, Lindsay was straightening Buster’s tie with maternal pride. “So, you ready for work?”
Buster had procured a job for himself at the
The truck features a lithe fairy in a pink dress casting a spell on various food items. It’s labeled “Glinda’s Food Services.”
It was Glinda’s Food Services, which provided his favorite brand of graham crackers.
Being an expert at being neither seen nor heard, he easily snuck in. If it weren’t for his hand being knocked off by a rapidly opening door, he might have just gone to the cafeteria, taken a few graham crackers, and been on his way. But Fate had other plans.
The door that Buster’s hand collides with is the principal’s office.
“Are you the sub?” the principal asks.
He was not. The real substitute teacher was currently on his way to
“Why, yes,” Buster answers.
Buster misheard the principal, thinking she asked if he was “the Stub,” a nickname that GOB had taken to calling Buster.
Buster is escorted to a classroom.
Later, Buster is trying to teach the children fractions. At one point, he becomes so frustrated, he starts flailing around. His hand flies off. The children scream. A young boy takes it.
“Hey, give that back to me!”
“Make me, freak,” the child taunts.
Buster instead just screams, “F off!”
He reaches into his briefcase and replaces his hook.
The boy drops the hand and returns to his seat, shaking with fear.
“Why can’t you just do you fractions?” Buster screams, thrusting his hook in the air.
The children immediately begin working feverishly on their workbooks.
“Much better,” Buster says, mainly to himself, and puts his prosthetic hand back on.
The principal walks in. “What’s with all the ruckus, Mr. Bluth?”
“Who me? Oh, I was just having a little disagreement with the students. They’re doing their fractions now.”
The principal looks surprised as he notes the entire class is diligently doing their worksheets.
The reason the principal is so surprised is that Buster had been given the most difficult third-grade class at
The reason that the real substitute teacher was fleeing the law was that he had provided alcohol to his sister, who was the class’s regular teacher.
The teacher asks her brother, “Listen, bro, I need something to help simmer down a bunch of little friends of mine. It’s for a Halloween party.”
Buster would be given the full-time position. His class would consistently have the highest rate of attendance and honor role. They would make it into the best colleges in the country, only partially because of their parents’ influences, and after a few years therapy or parental support, mainly the former, they would all have successful lives as deputy mayors, lieutenant governors, vice presidents, CGI animators, COOs, maritime lawyers, and other such careers.
Back at the model home, after closing the door on Buster, Lindsay comments, “They grow up so fast, don’t they? Gosh, remember when I had Maeby?”
The Bluths remembered all too well. It was burnt into their brains.
“There’s A Girl in My Soup! Announcing Our Daughter: Maeby Fünke” reads Maeby’s birth announcement.
“And now, it’s coming to a circle,” Lindsay comments knowingly to Michael, before adding with realization, “Oh, wait, was that the big news you were talking about earlier?”
It was, but before Michael could answer, the Bluths got a call they’d been waiting for.
The phone rings. Michael and Lindsay race to answer it.
You see, Maeby was about to become a mother. Lindsay couldn’t be happier, blissfully ignoring not only the fact that this made her a grandmother, but also that Maeby was unmarried, 21, and refused to reveal the identity of the father, claiming, “That’s
“That’s
When the issue is pressed, she would add…
“I want kids.”
Of course, this accomplished nothing, so she instead began to use, “How about them Angels?”
“How about them Angels?”
The interviewer is speechless, signaling “Cut” to the cameraman.
This quieted people best of all.
George Michael, the good soul that he is, of course, agreed to be the child’s father figure, even deciding to adopt the child legally.
The young girl had quite an exciting birth.
Maeby sits in a hospital room, doing Lamaze breaths with George Michael faithfully by her side. The hospital room is actually a TV studio set.
She was born on the set of the Fox hit medical show House.
Cue House theme song.
To publicize Kal Penn’s latest film, Harold and Kumar Go Cold Turkey, Maeby agreed to appear in the B-plot of the episode. However, during the filming of the critical “House’s epiphany” scene, Maeby went into labor. Because of her poor math skills, Maeby had miscalculated her due date to be two weeks later than the filming of the episode.
Five months earlier, a pregnant Maeby sits at her kitchen table while George Michael cooks in the background. She’s in front of a calendar and is counting on her fingers. “Damn, where’s the calculator?” she mumbles to herself. Unable to find it, she flips forward a few months and randomly circles a date.
George Michael, wearing large oven mitts, serves her a bowl of cornballs.
“Thanks, George Michael. I can’t believe I’m always craving these.”
With a grin on his face, George Michael agrees, pulling off his gloves to reveal his arms covering in red marks.
Instead, Maeby’s due date was three days earlier. And because Maeby’s character was supposed to go in labor during the scene, the entire ordeal was caught on camera, as the cameraman believed the birthing to be elaborate special effects, much like he’d seen in a store a few years back. And because of Fox’s constantly eroding decency standards, he thought it was intended to be filmed.
“Looks real, don’t it?” the cameraman mentions to George Michael.
George Michael didn’t have the luxury of that misconception.
George Michael faints dead away.
The fall could have resulted in a concussion had there not be a mat there. You see, later in that scene, the character of Kutner was to trip and fall, which would spark Dr. House’s realization. Because the episode will not be airing until this coming Tuesday, we can’t reveal any more details.
“So,” said the medical consultant, “have you two decided what you’re going to name your daughter?”
“Actually,” George Michael began breathily.
“Akshley,” repeated the consultant, “that’s unique.”
“I love it,” said Maeby.
Actually, Maeby was just glad the pain was over and would have agreed to any name George Michael threw out.
And that’s the story of how Akshley Bluth-Fünke was delivered by the assistant medical consultant on House.
“Wait, the assistant medical consultant?!” Maeby screams at the consultant.
“We’ve got a new girl in our House!” the announcement postcard reads. Maeby sits in the hospital bed, Akshley in her arms; George Michael stands by her bed, striking a fatherly pose with his arm around his cousin; the full cast of House and the assistant medical consultant standing behind, smiling.
Later, as George Michael admires Akshley with paternal pride in the nursery, actor Jesse Spencer comments to George Michael, “She’s got your nose.”
“What? You think she looks like me?”
“Well, she’s also the only baby in that set that’s not a doll. By the way, the paramedics are here to take them to UCLA.”
“Thanks,” he comments, before blurting out, “Maeby’s my cousin.”
Jesse Spencer looks back at him with suspicion.
“She’s not saying who the father is,” George Michael adds.
With a face of realization, Jesse Spencer nods, “Oh, for a moment there, I thought…”
George Michael breaks into an uncontrollable bout of nervous laughter.
“Well, anyway,” the actor adds, “bang-up job agreeing to help her through this, mate. You’re a good man.”
And who doesn’t love a good, clean-cut, all-American boy?
The Bluth family was all too proud to welcome the new bundle of joy into the family.
GOB, Michael, Lindsay, George Sr. and Tobias, who has random blue splotches on his skin, race up to the neonatal viewing window to point to and admire the newest family member.
George Michael, who is standing by, asks, “Wow, how’d you know which one was Akshley?”
Michael answers first, patting his son’s shoulder, “C’mon, that’s a Bluth nose if I ever saw one.”
George Michael looks worried.
Michael shakes his head. “Wait, what am I saying? She can’t have the Bluth nose. Then again, we thought your Aunt Lindsay had it.”
George Michael looks relieved.
“Funny, though,” Lindsay commented, “Maeby got Tobias’s nose instead. Maybe it skipped a generation.”
“Maybe,” George Michael repeats.
Michael adds, “Anyway, besides the nose, she’s the splitting image of Maeby as a baby.”
This was true.
“Like a little copy,” Lindsay adds.
“Wow, I guess I’m a grandpa, now,” Michael comments.
George Michael looks anxious again.
Michael corrects, “No, Maeby’s my niece, that makes me a great-uncle, doesn’t it?”
George Michael laughs nervously again.
“Well, I guess I’m both,” Michael says softly, putting his arm around his son, “You’re adopting your little niece, and just because she’s adopted doesn’t make her any less of your own daughter.”
This is true, too. Very true, in fact.
Lindsay frowns at this.
Dr. Fishman arrives to meet the family and relay a message, “There were some complications and Maeby has moved on.”
Amongst the panicked reactions of his family, including George Michael fainting, only to be caught by Tobias, Michael calms his family, “Wait a second. Go on, Doctor.”
“Well, because she didn’t give birth in this hospital, she couldn’t be kept in Obstetrics section, so we moved her to General Care. You can see her now.” Tobias is so relieved, he lets go of George Michael, who stumbles to right himself.
Once the family was situated in Maeby’s room, the doctor asks her, “One more thing, we need the father’s name for the birth certificate.”
“How about them Angels?” Maeby asks.
There is an awkward pause.
“My cousin George Michael will be legally adopting her. Can’t we just put his name there? Fudge it a little?”
“That’s actually standard procedure for adoption. But you might want to speak to the real father about possible health issues. Because right now, we don’t know how much longer your daughter will be with us.”
Before his family even had a chance to panic, Michael asked for elaboration.
“Well, I’m not the pediatrician, so I don’t know how long Akshley will be with us in the hospital before she’s allowed to go home with Maeby.”
Steve Holt runs in. “Hey, is this the little guy?”
Maeby, shooting daggers at Steve, replies, “It’s a girl.”
You have to give Steve Holt a break. He was used to being able to greet new babies like this. You, see his two brothers…
I’m getting ahead of myself.
GOB and Steve had a magic show together, one that allowed them nightly access to groupies. One of these groupies was the woman who had once been GOB’s wife.
Fate would have a different plan for these two. They would eventually have two children together.
In a picture dated 6/11/2011, Gob stands with Steve Holt and his ex-wife holding a newborn, all of them are on Segways. A 3-year-old boy stands in front on a miniature model. GOB’s basket is labeled “GOB”, Steve’s “STEVE HOLT!” His ex-wife’s is also labeled, but obscured in the picture by her purse. The boy’s reads “GOB JR”. At the bottom of the picture it’s written: “Steve Holt (l), G.O.B. Bluth, (smudged) with Anthony Wonder Bluth, and George Oscar Bluth II, Jr. (front)”.
On a dare, they would remarry. For 55 hours, their first son would be legitimate. Unfortunately, the marriage would not be consummated until the lawyer handling their annulment caught the two of them on his desk. They divorced the next day. And had their second son nine months later.
Back at the hospital, Buster arrives from work. “Hey, family. Hey, newborn grand-niece. So, I got here as soon as I could. They had to find a sub.”
Back at
“I brought my special fruit punch!” she exclaims.
Back at the hospital, Maeby is talking on her cell phone. “Oh, yes, she’s beautiful. I mean after the washed all the slime off of her. She’s still pretty wrinkly, but they say that would pass. Oh, but her hands are so cute. I’m thinking of employing her as a hand model, you know, before genes take their toll.” She looks disparagingly at her own hand. “Yeah, George Michael’s right here.”
Maeby hands the phone to George Michael, looking at his hands for comparison. She adds, “It’s Bland.”
“Hi, Ann,” George Michael said upbeat, to Maeby’s disgust. “Oh, yeah, really beautiful. Oh, thanks. It’s the least I can do for them.” George Michael blushes and rubs the back of his head. His expression reverses as he adds, “Well, I don’t think that’s fair. There weren’t any loose morals involved.” This last part is without conviction. “Yeah, godless entertainment industry.” He holds the phone to his shoulder and mouths an apology to Maeby, who waves it off. “Baptized?” He looks at Maeby wide-eyed, who thinks about it. “Absolutely,” George Michael replies before Maeby’s done with her internal debate.
And that’s how George Michael and Maeby decided they wanted to baptize Akshley. They decided to do it at their favorite church. In fact, the only church they knew by name.
George Michael and Maeby, with Akshley in her arms, reach The Church of the Good Shepherd.
“This place looks bigger than I remember.”
Indeed the church was larger. After their interaction with the Bluths, the Reverend and Mrs. Veal found themselves becoming more sexually adventurous with one another.
As various sexual noises are heard outside the bedroom, Ann sits quietly and reads her Bible, listening to music on her MP3 player, singing along, “I don’t really care if they label me a Jesus Freak/There ain’t no disguisin’ the truth.”
She lifts up the player to turn up the volume. It’s cross-shaped and named the iGod.
The following year, the couple would start a Sunday school program for married couples called “The Christian Marriage.” It would turn out to be a class teaching sexual techniques to married couples of all ages. At first, some of the members had some disagreements.
The church was being picketed. Signs include: “Freedom” “God sees through bedroom doors” “Jesus Style not Doggy Style” “SIN: Sexual Instruction, No!”
However, before long, it became an immensely popular class. The membership of the church tripled from new membership and new babies. The program continued.
The next year, the program is entitled, “Finding God in the Love with Your Spouse”, then “The Orgasm as a Uniting with God”, and most recently, “The Kama Sutra and How It Enriches our Spiritual Lives.”
The church building grew, too.
New wings were added and from above the church now vaguely resembles two people performing a rear-entry sexual position.
During the service, Maeby tears a page out of the Bible to write a note to George Michael.
While Maeby only intended to suggest that the family go to Olive Garden after church, she happened to do so on the page including Leviticus 18, which among other things, list sexual prohibitions, including homosexuality, bestiality, and incest.
On the Bluth family tree, a number of nodes are marked out. George Michael is circled.
Leviticus 18 would prohibit George Michael from having sexual relations with any of the following relatives: his mother Tracy, her sister Stacy, his father’s future wives or daughters, his aunt Lindsay, his uncle Gob’s ex-wife, his great-aunt Linda, and his next door neighbor Mrs. Keaton. It would not prevent him from marrying Maeby. In fact, had George Michael been listening to the lectionary, he would have learned that Abraham married his cousin Rebekkah.
George Michael freezes up and drops the page. It lands on the ground with Maeby’s note up. He sees this and turns to Maeby, nodding.
George Michael was in the mood for Italian, so he accepted his cousin’s offer.
Rev. Veal asks for the child’s grandparents to come forward. Michael gets up and holds out his arm to Lindsay. Tobias takes it. He holds out his other arm, and Lindsay takes this one, leaning on her brother inappropriately. So does Tobias.
Rev. Veal says, “George Michael and Maeby have brought to us today Ashley Noelle, their daughter…”
“Actually…” George Michael whispers.
George Michael would have preferred that Rev. Veal explain their special circumstances.
“Pardon me, Akshley Noelle…”
“No, it’s…” George Michael tries again.
“Again, I apologize, Akshley Nois.”
Actually, Akshley had not actually been given a middle name. Maeby, while filling out her daughter’s baptism registry, was struck by the fact her own mother had not bothered to give her a middle name besides “Bluth.” So, in the space labeled “Child’s Middle Name”, she wrote the first name she could think of. Since Christmas had just occurred, that name was “Noelle.” Maeby still had Christmas songs stuck in her head and at the moment was humming “The First Noël.” She later regretted this decision, not wanting to get the song stuck in her head again every time she wrote out her daughter’s name.
Luckily, Maeby, finding a particular charm in to “Nois”, decided to have this officially become her daughter’s middle name.
So, the baptism went on without a hitch.
Yeah, right.
“Excuse me,” Lindsay says, grabbing Rev. Veal so she can talk into his lapel mic, completely ignoring the church member with a cordless microphone two feet away, “I would just like to take this time to profess my love. For my granddaughter.” The congregation aws. “And my lovely daughter.” The congregation aws again. “And my nephew.” The congregation aws, but then checks the bulletin. “And especially my brother, Michael.” The congregation aws mindlessly, still studying the baptism insert. “Who keeps our family together. And who is the handsomest man I know.” Tobias rolls his eyes. The congregation is stunned. “And it is my hope one day I will get to marry him.” The congregation erupts in protest.
The disruption allows Lucille to quietly exit. After wandering around for a moment, she finds herself in the kitchen. She opens the refrigerator and reads the label on a wine bottle. “‘Communion Wine’, I’m not familiar with that vinyard.” She takes it and walks off.
On the next episode of Arrested Development:
Tobias’s part on House is drastically cut.
Tobias punches Hugh Laurie, screaming, “You! And your damn, fake British accent!”
The crew is able to work it into the story, however.
Dr. Wilson comments to the bruised Dr. House, “Looks like you and your tongue finally got what was coming to them.”
George Michael and Maeby find the perfect nanny…
Mrs. Featherbottom is being interviewed by George Michael and Maeby. They look impressed.
...only to reassess their first impression.
Maeby and George Michael stand in the nursery, which is also George Michael’s pristine room, and peer down at Akshley, covered in splotches of blue paint.
Lucille finds sanctuary…
Lucille arrives at a trailer in a lemon field. Oscar walks out of the Bluth to enthusiastically greet his sister-in-law.
Still in mid-embrace, Lucille comments, “You better have tequila or something in here.”
“Come on, you know I make the best
Taking a drag from the marijuana cigarette, Lucille replies, “Rekindled Heat always was the only weed I could tolerate.”
And Steve Holt finally finds love.
Sitting on a hotel bed, Steve remarks, “Oh, yeah, of course I’m a virgin.”
Ann looks him over. “Steve, you’re not a virgin.”
The Bluth stair car is in the parking lot of a
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