"*" "Wow, I'm so excited for Brian." "Remember, kids." "If it's terrible, at the end, we all say, "You did it!"" "I can't believe we're going to the theater the same day Chris drowned a mouse in a puddle." "I mean, don'-don't we need a day to clear our heads?" "Boy, this takes me back." "You know, I was, uh... kind of one of those theater kids in high school." "# Suddenly Seymour... #" "# Suddenly Seymour... #" "# He purified me #" "# He purified you #" "# Suddenly Seymour... #" "# Suddenly Seymour... #" "Mrs. Andrews, I pooped in the pot again." "I'm gonna need somebody to clean me up." "It's really bad this time." "Wow, what a turnout!" "Oh, hey, there's Glenn." "Hey, guys." "Hey, this is my date, Consuela." "No, no, no." "Okay, we're here as friends, but I'm gonna change your mind one day." "Oh, I'm so proud of Brian." "It's hard to believe he's the same dog who barked at a pineapple for 4 hours." "Close your purse." "I can see your tampons." "And why do you need 6?" "What happens to you?" "There's the man of the hour." "Hey, Brian, can you believe I found this blazer on the side of the highway?" "Hey, guys." "Thanks for coming." "Big night, Brian." "How you feeling?" "Well, a little nervous." "I just want it to go well." "Fingers crossed." "Will there be an intermission?" "Because that will determine whether or not I bring this empty Gatorade bottle into the theater." "This is unacceptable!" "Uh, sorry, guys, I got to go." "They didn't put masking tape over a seat for Tom Tucker and he's in there pitching a fit." "Do you know who I am?" "!" "I'm Tom Tucker, damn it!" "I make more in an hour than you make in 2 hours!" "Oh, the play's about to start." "Mom, am I going to fit in the seat or is this going to be like last time?" "This should tide you over for a while." "I'll come back as soon as I can." "Mwa." "She's not coming back, you know." "How do you know that?" "'Cause she's my mom, too." "Excuse me, that's my seat." "We'll talk about this at home." "Ugh." "Let's see." "Who's in this thing?" "Sad." "Nobody." "Sad." "Sad." "Nobody." "Victor Garber?" "Oh, that's pretty good." "How did he get Victor--?" "Oh, of course." "Tonight it's Randall Evan Battincourt." "God, I hate understudies." "King Louis the 16th has been sentenced to death by guillotine." " Yay!" " Yeah!" "The part of King Louis the 16th will be played by Jean de Menard." " Aw." " Oh." "Relax, you're going to do great." "Huh." "Nailed it." "Well, as usual, this is gonna suck for one of us." "Donna?" "It's Grant, your new husband." "Hi, honey." "I've got great news." "What is it?" "First, where do we keep the good scotch?" "At your brother's house." "Ha-ha-ha-ha!" "Ha-ha-ha-ha!" "I got an audition for the hottest new play in town." "This could really make my career and we can finally start our family." "What's it called?" "A Passing Fancy." " Oh!" " Ah!" "Haw!" "That's the name of this play." "How did he do that?" "How did he do that?" "!" "Here, Donna." "I got you your 10-year anniversary present." "Suntan lotion?" "But we live in the Northeast." "That's right, we do." "Unless we were moving to California." "Huh!" "He must've got the part." "When he going to meet Evita?" "Not every play is Evita." "Oh, no." "I feel terrible." "Why?" "Don't you want to go?" "No." "I got you a parka." "Ha-ha!" "Those two are never on the same page." "Wait for the look... and that's why it works." "Donna, don't go!" "It's not too late." "We can still start our family." "Don't you see?" "You already have a family." "It's right there." " Ooh." " Ooh." "Those won't keep you warm at night." "Good-bye, Grant." "It's funny, isn't it?" "All these years, I was the passing fancy." "Get up, you jerk!" "Wow, that was amazing!" "I mean, usually, the shows suck in this town." "Like Moishe, the low-energy Bar Mitzvah clown." "Ooh, what's this?" "A quarter." "I found it behind your ear earlier." "All right, that's enough tricks for you." "I'm going to go lie down on the coats." "Hey, has anybody seen the review yet?" "No, we've been waiting for you." "Thanks." "Oh, here it is." ""Here's hoping A Passing Fancy is actually a staying fancy." ""The highest praise goes to playwright Brian Griffin..." ""for his hilarious and insightful look into modern relationships." ""If you see only 1 play as an adult, I urge you to see this one."" "Hey, can you read that page with all the little paragraphs about dead people?" "Those are hilarious." "This is amazing, Brian." "How do you feel?" "You're a hit!" "It's... overwhelming." "This is all I've ever wanted, you know?" "For... people to appreciate and respect my writing." "I want to write a play!" "Aw, that's cute, Stewie." "Maybe someday." "No, I'm going to write a play." "I can do lots of things." "I was the human resources director for the Muppets." "Mr. Beaker, it is my unfortunate task to inform you that your services will no longer be required by this company." "Min, min-min-min, min-min-min, min-min-min." "Well, if you must know, it's because we've noticed large quantities of benzene, ephedrine and everyday Epsom salt have gone missing." "Min-min-min, min, min-min." "Oh, please." "We both know those are the ingredients used to make crystal meth." "And I've got a pretty good idea who you've been selling it to as well." "Oh, hey." "Uh, Beaker.." "when you're done talking to your friend, I want to, uh... eh, I want to talk to you about that thing." "Hey, what you doing?" "I was going to start rehearsing my new play." "Want to hear it?" "Oh, you actually wrote a little play." "Aw, boy, I-I wish I could hang out, but it-it has just gotten so crazy." " Really?" " I know, right?" "It's" " I mean, I'm not complaining, you know?" "But I just" " I want my old life back." "Urrr!" "Hm." "I'm just kidding, of course." "It's" " I-I'm so grateful." "You know?" "I mean, every performance is... sold out and they just added a Wednesday matinee." "It's great." "I mean, there's only 1 thing I'm not getting out of this experience." " What's that?" " Sleep." "Urrr!" "No, no, I'm so grateful, really." "It's just that I'm-I'm so busy all the time." "But it's great." "It's all great." "Wel" " Do you think you might have time to read it?" "Aw." "All right, all right." "But be patient, all right?" "I've got interviews and appearances all week." "I mean, they-they're squeezing every last drop they can out of me, like a bottle of ketchup." "Listen, we've been at this for 15 minutes." "I don't think anything's coming out." "I-I'm fine." "I can keep going." "I'm just really tired." "What if I stick my finger in your hole?" "Eh, that only works when I'm already close." "The American play... was dying." "Have-have we brought it back to life here?" "I can't say that, but it has a pulse." "You're such an amazing writer, Brian." "How do you do it?" "What's your process?" "Oh, God, Allison, how do I even answer that?" "Uh..." "I mean... what's a rainbow's process?" "2 parts rain, 1 part sun, 1 part childlike wonder." "What we do know, though, is that the end result in both cases... is joy." "Wow." "Wow, are you glad you left the lighthouse now, Seamus?" "Oh, I think so, Seamus!" "Excuse me, I noticed you were talking loud, so that means you're smart." "But would you mind, and I hate asking, but would you mind signing this?" "Is this guy giving you a hard time, Brian?" "Nah, he's all right." "All right." "Cool, cool." "How you doing, buddy?" "*" "*" "My God." "It's miraculous." "***" "Hey, Brian, can you read my play?" "Sorry, there was a fart trapped in the play." "Hey, Jasper, how are you?" "Hey, Brian!" "Congratulations on your new play." "Oh, thanks." "What's wrong?" "You look awful." "What happened?" "I read the play Stewie wrote." "She writes plays now?" "Yes, and it was brilliant." "Jasper, I've never read anything like it in my life." "It was insightful and fresh and intelligent." "It's like his play is mocking me." "He wrote it in a night." "Ugh, that's how I feel whenever I see Brad Goreski on Bravo." "God, everyone's on Bravo but me." "Anyhoo, have you told him how good it is?" "No." "I just read it." "He gave it to me 'cause he wanted my feedback." "Okay, listen to me." "Tell Stewie it's awful, it's garbage." "Do whatever you have to do, Brian, but never let him know he's got talent." "Yeah, you're right." "It won't be so hard." "After all, I've certainly done worse." "I replaced Peter's I Can't Believe It's Not Butter with real butter." "Buh... wuh... uh... suh... buh-buh..." "I" " I can't..." "I can't... believe..." "Yuh... wuh... ahe..." "I don't know, Doctor." "Looking back, I think it may've been real butter." "Your husband murdered 3 children." "Oh, my God." "Look at this." "Brian, get in here!" "What?" "Your play has been nominated for a local Hoggy Award for Best Creative Anything!" "Oh, that's... great." "Um..." "I'm gonna..." "I'm-I'm going to go get some air." "Look at that." "Nominated for an award." "What have you two done today?" "I found a lump under 1 of my balls." "Okay, that's something." "I ate 3 quarters of an Entenmann's strudel." "Youse are good kids." "Hey, so, did you get a chance to read my play?" "Uh..." "I did." "I did." "Ooh, I'm so nervous." "What'd you think?" "Stewie, you and I are friends, right?" "Yeah, I mean, I know you through our mutual friend Greg, but sure, I'd say we're friends now." "Exactly." "And-and as your friend, you'd want me to be honest with you, right?" "Totally." "It wasn't good." "Oh, no, really?" "Oh, I worked so hard on it." "Oh, I thought it was good." "Aw." "Oh, I know, I wanted it to be good so much." "Oh, I am so bummed out right now." "I-I" " Now I don't even know if I should submit it." "Wha" " Y" " Submit it?" "Yeah, I-I was planning to submit it to the Roundabout Theater Company in New York." "No!" "I mean" " Oh, I mean, that-that would be a-a bad idea." "Definitely not." "No, no, they-they won't let you down easy like I did." "New York can be pretty harsh, especially to outsiders." "Hello, New York!" "Ugh, maybe you're right." "I'll think about it." "Anyway, can I have that back?" "It's my only copy." "Y-your only copy?" "Yes." "And thank you for being a good friend and telling me the truth, Brian." "I know that was hard for you." "And to show my appreciation for reading my play, I made you this." "*" "Wow, "good dog."" "And it's "official?"" "That's what it says, doesn't it?" "I wish my dad was alive to see this." "Hey." "Who the hell are you?" "I'm the guy Stewie pays to watch him sleep." "Who are you?" "I'm Brian." "I live here." "Oh." "Do you mind if I take this script?" "Yeah, sure, whatever." "He just pays me to watch him sleep and rub this knife across my face while I do it." "Oh." "Okay." "Hey, how much does Stewie pay you?" "4,800 a week." "***" "Yeah." "Hey, Brian." "Oh, hey, Stewie." "Listen, have you seen my play?" "You know, Stewie, I have seen your play, and it is exhilarating to me." "A child's play... is 1 of the most beautiful things in the world." "Continue to play, little one." "You're our future." "What the *** are you talking about?" "The play I wrote." "Have you seen it?" "Uh, I don't know." "Let me call my lawyer." "Huh, huh." "Hello." "I'm being cross-examined." "Huh." "No, I-I haven't..." "I haven't seen it." " Really?" "'Cause I had it sitting right on my table" " I said I haven't seen it!" "All right!" "And what does it matter?" "It was terrible anyway!" "We've had this conversation!" "Do yourself a favor and move on!" "Well, that's interesting, Brian, because I found this buried in the backyard next to your soup bone!" "Haw!" "Stewie..." "I-I" "You tried to destroy it, didn't you?" "!" "I knew my play was good!" "Just like I knew your play was a mediocre patchwork of hackneyed ideas and tired cliches." "You have no idea how hard it was to sit in that theater with all those braying hyenas!" "Couldn't you tell something was up when Chris and the fat man could follow the plot?" "!" "I mean, it took Peter a year to figure out Stuart Little!" "I just figured it out." ""Stuart" means "mouse."" "No, Peter." ""Little" means "mouse?"" "No, Peter." "I feel so old and in the way." "It's still a good play!" "It's filled with terrible double entendres, puns and stolen bits." "There's a line in there from Seinfeld!" "I never saw that episode!" "I have a voice." "Do you understand that?" "A writer needs a voice, and I have one." "You don't." "Your play... panders to the lowest common denominator, Brian." "An-and it doesn't even do that well!" "Shut up!" "May every person that laughs at your sophomoric effort be a reminder of your eternal mediocrity... and pierce your heart like a knife." "Come here, you bastard!" "Wow-wow-wow!" "Wow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow!" "You stink!" "And your play stinks!" "This ain't about me, is it?" "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho." "No." "And I'm sorry... ugh... but nobody can ever know that." "Donna?" "It's Grant, your new husband." "Hi, honey." "I've got great news." "What is it?" "First, where do we keep the good scotch?" "At your brother's house." "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" "Ah-ha!" "Lois, can I have my birthday here?" "Seems to be going well." "What do you want?" "Wanted to share a bit of good news." "I just found out that my play is going to be produced on Broadway." "What?" "And I'm taking Randall Evan Battincourt with me." "Hi, Stewie." "I'll be right there." "I just got to finish this crap." "Hey, I need you to take me to New York for the opening night of my play." "Huh, no way!" "Besides, I checked, and there's no play by Stewie Griffin opening in New York." "I submitted it under a pseudonym." "They think it was written by Tony Dovolani." "I thought your pseudonym was Gorgeous Randy Flamethrower." "That's my dodge ball pseudonym." "Look, if you won't take me, I'm sure the New York Theater League would send a car." "New York Theater League?" "Why?" "Because they're throwing a welcome dinner in my honor." "Really?" "Well, I... guess I could clear my schedule." "Oh, you won't regret it, Brian." "All the most important Broadway people will be there." "Playwrights, money men, even Stanley Kowalski." "Hi." "I'm Michael." "Michael!" "Michael!" "Um, and this is my wife, Nancy." "Nancy!" "Nancy!" "And this is our Uzbekistani friend, Bokyavroychesku." "Hi." "Stewie, don't you think you're overdoing it with that outfit." "I don't wear anything I can't take off with a flourish." "Wow, this is amazing." "Every major playwright is here." "Yes, and it seems to be quite a successful party." "Several of them have already committed suicide." "Great party." "Totally!" "Hey, Tony!" "Oh, my God, that's David Mamet!" "There's the man of the evening." "I read your play, An American Marriage." "It was incredibly raw." "I was pretty damn impressed." "Oh, thank you, David." "David, this is Brian." "Brian, David." "Oh, it's an honor." "Listen, I just want to say what an inspiration Glengarry Glen Ross was to me when I was writing my own play." "Easy." "Is that Tony Dovolani?" "Hello." "Alan Bennett." "Fantastic play." "And I'm Yasmina Reza." "Oh, are you his night nurse?" "No, I'm a playwright." "I wrote Art and God of Carnage." "I won a Pulitzer." "Y-you want to say your grade point average, too?" "Boy, it's just so weird to be in a room where every single person in the room is a playwright." "Every single one of us." "Everyone." "Including me." "I'm a playwright." "Brian, my God, take it down a notch." "You're a playwright?" "In New York?" "Well..." "Quahog, Rhode Island." "You're kidding." "We just went and saw a play in Quahog, Rhode Island." "Really?" "Have you ever heard of A Passing Fancy?" "I have!" "Oh, my God, what a load of rubbish." "Huh." "We-we have this thing where we go to the worst regional theater we can find and laugh ourselves sick." "And this one took the grand prize." "Really?" "Uh..." "I-I had heard only good things." "It was a *** piece of *** damn it ***!" "Oh, my God." "I got to hear David Mamet curse in person." "Oh, there you are." "That... was the worst night of my life." "It's not like you were the only fat guy in there." "What?" "Oh, this is about the play." "Sorry." "I was so happy until I read your play, Stewie." "I finally had some kind of success as a writer." "You know, it wasn't big, but it was mine." "I-I was fine being an Okay writer... until I discovered I was living in a house with a brilliant one." "I-I know we don't talk about doggy years a lot, but I-I just wish you could've waited to find out how talented you were until I was gone." "By the time I'm dead, you won't even be 10." "You'll have 70 more years to be great." "I just wish..." "I could have had 5 to be good." "There's your voice, Brian." "It's a depressing voice, but it's yours." "Write from that." "Listen, me and the other playwrights are going out to have drinks with Woody Allen and his daughter-wife." "You want to come?" "All right." "We can just sit here for a while." "They talked a lot more crap about you after you left." "*" "*" " Oh, God, that was just terrible." " Terrible." "Ugh." "I don't understand." "Stewie... what happened to the play you wrote?" "That was terrible." "Well, I gave it a final polish... changed a few things." "Guess I kind of... mucked the whole thing up." "But how?" "You wh" " Y" "Wait." "Di-did you do that... for me?" "What are you talking about?" "I'm a young writer." "I just... wasn't as ready as I thought I was." "Maybe in a couple of years... who knows?" "Stewie, you shouldn't've done that." "But... thanks." "No problem, Brian." "Hey, what do you say we head back home?" "That sounds good." "You know, I'm going to move to New York City when I'm older." "'Cause it's twinkly and big and this is where dreams come true, and that giant bird's coming for us, isn't he?"