♪ My name is Cleveland Brown
♪ And I am proud to be
♪ Right back in my hometown
♪ With my new family
♪ There's old friends and new friends ♪
♪ And even a bear
♪ Through good times and bad times ♪
♪ It's true love we share ♪
♪ And so I found a place
♪ Where everyone will know
♪ My happy mustached face
♪ This is The Cleveland Show. ♪
(chuckles)
Bacon, cheese, eggs.
Smells like a Denny's in here, but without the old man stink.
You got that covered.
No, I smell like a middle-aged man:
Propecia, hot wings, and night sweats
from our adjustable-rate mortgage.
Now, pass those eggs.
Uh-uh.
Remember what Dr. Fist said about your cholesterol?
Yes, he said it was "appalling" and "life-threatening."
Uh, pass the eggs.
This is your breakfast, Cleveland,
the same breakfast you've been eating for the past two weeks.
More twigs?
Fiber Twigs-- the cereal that lowers your cholesterol.
(crunches)
Aah! I got a splinter!
'Cause you got a mouthful of wood, like usual.
Huh? Oh.
(laughs)
(both laughing)
(Cleveland growls, Roberta screams)
Hey!
Oh, come on, baby,
I need you alive and healthy
for the karaoke contest this weekend.
We could win $500,
and I don't want a repeat of our high school talent show.
(pop music)
♪ Love
♪ Love will keep us together... ♪
(tapering off): Donna, I got my license.
(farts)
Oh, Roberta.
ROBERTA (distantly): I'm in my room!
That's just your breakfast getting down to business.
Here's your lunch--
bran muffin, can of beans, and for dessert,
some of that Jamie Lee Curtis yogurt that makes you poop.
(farts)
Damn, Daddy.
Remember when that cat crawled
in the air conditioning duct and died,
and we couldn't get it out for 16 months?
That was like a Glade Plug-In compared to this.
(laughs) Heat rises.
I smell nothing.
Oh, what do you think you're...?
Aah, oh, no, aah, put me down, put me down!
(groaning)
(farts, grunts)
(farting and grunting)
(upset murmuring)
Oh, what if they come in here?
What the...? (meows)
Oh, my-- oh, no!
Auntie Em, Auntie Em!
(cats yowling)
Oh, Terry, hurry up, we got to go!
But I'm not finish-- oh!
(groaning, glass shattering)
Ah, oh, ow! Oh!
Ow, my urethra!
(screams)
(grunts)
(farts)
(sheepish chuckle) I'm sorry, Terry,
but I'm on this new high-fiber diet, and I--
My hermaphrodite yogurt!
Look, if you're gonna be my partner,
I don't want to hear one more fart out of you.
Is that clear?! Yes, sir.
Good, 'cause I...
Oh, you bastard!
Ha, ha, sometimes they no make a noise.
(coughing)
(choked groan)
(tires screeching)
Look out!
(both screaming)
(gasping): I can't believe...
my last breath... (grunting)
is gonna be your ass-gas.
I always knew we would die this way.
Good-bye, Terry.
(both screaming)
(projector clacking)
BOTH: Gee, thanks, Mr. Flippers.
Terry, always keep your eyes on the road.
Will do.
And Cleveland, see a doctor about your ungodly flatulence.
Yes, sir.
Good.
See you later, peoples.
BOTH: Bye, Mr. Flippers!
(techno music playing)
(clapping)
You're deep.
Thank you. I was a philosophy major.
Everything checks out, Cleveland.
Your flatulence is a perfectly normal side effect
of a high-fiber diet.
So you're saying all this farting is okay?
No, I'm saying it's medically necessary.
But what about the social stigma?
Won't people consider me a gross, farting pig
like Tommy Lasorda?
I'll write you a note.
You mean a free pass to pass gas
wherever and whenever I want to?
The medical term is a fart card,
but remember, Cleveland,
with great power comes great responsibility.
(drum intro)
(bell dings)
(passengers clamoring)
Fart card.
♪ Let one out
♪ I gotta let one out
(Cleveland farts, Rallo laughs)
(farts)
(groans)
(vomits)
(farts)
(groans)
♪ He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way ♪
(barely audible): ♪ He had a boogie style that no one else could play ♪
BOTH: ♪ He was the top man at his craft ♪
♪ But then his number came up... ♪
♪ And he... (clears throat)
What did I tell you?
You got to project, Kendra.
Sing like you do when you're in your washtub out back.
(barely audible): ♪ A-toot, a-toot, a-toot-diddly-a-da-toot. ♪
(sobbing): Oh, I'll...
(music stops) I'll never be no Kellie Pickler!
(sobbing)
Poor, fat Kendra.
Lester and Kendra, everybody.
Vote with your applause.
Wow, that really was not very popular.
You two will not advance to the finals Sunday night
and thus will not be winning the $500 grand prize.
Play 'em off, Charlie.
(music plays)
♪ 'Cause you had a bad day ♪
♪ You're taking one down ♪
♪ You sing a sad song just to turn it around ♪
♪ You say you don't know, you tell me don't lie ♪
♪ You work at a smile and you go for a ride ♪
♪ You had a bad day.
No regrets!
♪ Then when I lose my will ♪
♪ You'll be there to push me up the hill ♪
BOTH: ♪ There's no, no looking back for us ♪
♪ We've got love, sure 'nough, that's enough ♪
♪ You're all, you're all I need ♪
♪ To get by.
That hairy beast can sing.
Gosh.
Gee whiz.
What a tough act to follow, huh?
Boy, I wouldn't want to follow them.
Following them are Cleveland Brown
and his wife, Mrs. Cleveland Brown.
(slow pop intro)
♪ I never knew love like this before ♪
♪ Now I'm lonely nevermore ♪
♪ Since you came
♪ Into my life
♪ You are my love light
♪ This I know
♪ And I'll never let you... ♪
(farting) ♪ Oh-- oh, you're my all-- ♪
♪ Oh, boy-- your heart...
(farts) Oh, it burns.
♪ Part of me... (farts)
Oh, bad, bad, nothing but problems.
♪ Once I was lost, and now I'm found ♪
♪ Then you turned my world around ♪
Ow, ow, ow!
(Cleveland farting, crowd laughing)
(farting)
♪ 'Cause I never ♪
♪ Knew love like this ♪
♪ Before
(farting melody) ♪ What a surprise
♪ 'Cause I never knew love like this ♪
♪ Before.
ALL: Wow!
(cheering)
(screams with delight)
(cheering)
Great job, folks. You made the finals.
Everybody, be back here Sunday
to watch the Browns and the Bears
face off on national television.
(applause) Then, after the football game,
we'll turn off the TV and finish our stupid karaoke contest.
I always thought I had a God-given talent, Donna.
I'm a fartiste.
We get you farting, too, and we'll be unbeatable.
Cleveland, I want to win by singing.
Why? Take the low road, baby.
(farts)
It's so much more fun and profitable.
I mean, who would you rather be: Weird Al Yankovic or Dido?
Dido.
You and I are very different people, Donna.
(phone rings)
Hello.
Uh-huh.
Singing. (scoffing) Puh.
Don't have to pay royalties on... (farts) these babies.
No, sir, my creative output is entirely... (farts) my own.
Cleveland.
(farts quietly) It's about Loretta.
Loretta?! (farts loudly)
Ha, what about her?
(farting) What about my lousy...
two-timing... ugly-ass... ex-wife? (farting)
She's dead.
Oh.
(farts quietly)
Yes, I understand.
I will handle the arrangements.
Thank you for the sentiment.
(farts) Good-bye.
I am so sorry, Cleveland.
Loretta had no next of kin in Quahog,
so one of my old friends is driving the body down here.
The funeral is... Friday.
(farts) There she is.
Oh, what a drive.
13 hours is a long way with only one hand on the wheel.
Oh! Ha, sex.
You want to see her?
Why is she wearing a French maid's costume?
'Cause I wanted to nail a dead French maid.
Giggity, giggity!
I've... missed you, Glenn.
Do you know how she died?
Yep, it all started when Brian dug up a brontosaurus skull.
All right, little more, little more.
I'll have this sucker in the bedroom in no time.
(creaking rumble)
(alarm beeps)
Oh, time for United States of Tara.
(rumbling)
No, no, no, no, no, no!
Oh, God!
Wait, what's that?
Oh, look at her gross boobs.
(laughter)
Well, I'll run her over to the funeral home.
Then I'm heading up to Langley.
Got a background gag
in a bachelor party scene on American Dad.
Oh, that... that's good.
Paying work.
Save it.
Have fun on your spin-off, Joey.
I will!
And this ain't no Joey,
you one-note (bleep)!
We are so sorry, Cleveland.
Please accept our tuna for this difficult time.
It's a pity you two will have to drop out
of the karaoke finals.
Such a disappointment.
Excuse me?
I don't think we're dropping out. Hell, no.
We're going to win-- to spite Loretta.
She was an awful person.
How did Cleveland Jr. take the news?
Why would my son care that my ex-wife is dead?
Oh, boy.
(tune of "Three Blind Mice"): ♪ Warm white socks
♪ Gee, you are fun, gee, you are fun ♪
♪ I washed you and rolled you all up in a ball ♪
♪ Carried you upstairs and then down the hall ♪
♪ You make me feel 11 feet tall ♪
♪ My warm white socks.
Good evening, Cleveland Jr.
Hello. Son,
I have some good news and some bad news.
Well, can I have the good news first?
The good news is that I bought you
a handsome new funeral suit!
Wow!
("Pretty Woman" instrumental playing)
(music stops) And now for the bad news.
Junior, your mother, Loretta, is dead.
The funeral is Friday. (farts)
Watch out for this boy, Lord.
Oh. I see.
Well, that... that's very sad news.
If you want to cry, it's okay.
Don't hold it in, Junior.
I've been reading up on child grief and...
Oh, Dr. Genstler's book?
Uh, I'm not sure.
It was in that free parenting magazine
they give away at the supermarket.
Oh, because Dr. Genstler said that it's possible
to grieve for a loss before an actual death.
I've already mourned the loss
of my mother and that broken family,
and now I have a new family
that will love and support me
in a way that, unfortunately,
my biological mother never could.
I still don't know if you're smart or stupid.
So, you're okay?
Well, I'm sad that Mom was never able to find
what she was looking for in her life, Daddy,
but yeah, I'm okay.
Okay, Junior,
but we're here if you need us.
That boy is a ticking bomb.
Say, you up for a nooner? No.
What time is it? 1:30.
You up for a one-thirtier?
No!
See you at 2:00. (snaps fingers)
(clicks tongue, farts)
(bell tolls)
Mmm. Poor Junior.
Keeping it all in.
You watch-- in 20 minutes,
we'll be picking up the pieces.
And he's a big boy, so there's gonna be a lot of pieces.
(laughs)
I'm sorry. That's inappropriate.
Loretta Brown was a woman I did not know,
but according to Wikipedia, a woman by that name
won a Grammy in 1989 for Best Spoken Word Album.
Another woman by that name-- or possibly her, as well--
served in the Australian Parliament
between 1958 and 1964.
Citation needed.
Praise the Lord!
We now commit the body
of Loretta Marie Callender Brown to the Earth.
(choked sob)
Stay strong, Junior.
(whirring)
(choked sobbing)
(clearing throat)
(sobbing)
No! No!
No! (sobs)
It's too soon!
Why, God?
Why?! (farts)
(sobs, farts)
I'll miss you both.
All right, close it up.
Who's up for barbecue?
(Cleveland sobbing)
(moaning)
(sobbing)
Do you still love her, Cleveland?
No. No, baby.
I love you. (farts)
Having an emotional breakdown on your ex-wife's casket
is a strange way to show it.
I'm sure I'll have the same reaction
on your casket in front of my third wife.
Cleveland, that was the woman
you always complained about.
The woman who cheated on you, who slept with your friends.
Well, one friend.
No, there were more.
Peter Griffin told me at our wedding.
Mayor West, Ollie Williams, Frank Sinatra Jr.,
the greased-up deaf man... Guy.
The point is, Cleveland, she wasn't good to you.
I know.
I have no idea what happened at the funeral.
I don't know why I lost control or... or...
(sobbing): Or why I'm still upset about it!
Well, you'd better...
(farting)
You'd better figure it out, Cleveland,
before you lose another wife.
I would slam the door, but the children are sleeping.
I'll act as if you did.
Thanks.
You don't have to be so damn dramatic!
RALLO: Don't worry, Cleveland.
She ain't leaving.
She broke.
Hot tea-- how classy.
Do you take it with one dong or two?
No, it's... it's too hot for dongs.
Just honey. It's good for the...
the karaoke vocal chords.
Hey, maybe you and Donna should just give up now, eh?
(chuckles) Whatever, Tim.
No, no, no. No, I'm... I'm just...
I'm giving you friendly trash talk. (stammering)
Now you say something rude about me
or-or how fat my mama is.
Look, Tim, Donna's not even speaking to me,
much less singing with me,
so you got nothing to worry about.
McFALL: Wrong. Dead wrong.
Mrs. Hot Brown's singing with me.
Say what? Said she wanted to piss you off
by showing she'd be happier singing
with the most pathetic piece of human garbage she could find.
Her words.
(sighs)
I've got one wife that's dead
and one wife that hates me.
Just like O.J. Simpson.
He's hurting bad.
Why else would a black guy
talk that way about O.J. Simpson? (chuckles)
Yes, and what kind of friends would we be
if we didn't help him?
Normal American male friends.
Let's book while he's still in the john.
(mouth full): I don't understand, Loretta.
Why did I cry at your funeral?
You did me so wrong.
I moved on.
So, why am I upset?
No, no, no, no, no, no!
Wait. That's it.
(high-pitched whooping)
MAN: Ow!
Hey, I'm trying to mourn over here.
Oh, it's a cookie.
Thank you.
♪ 'Cause you ♪
♪ You mean the world to me
♪ Oh
♪ I know ♪ I know
♪ I've found ♪ ♪ I've found ♪
♪ In you
♪ My endless love.
I am not going to go out there
and sing "On Top of Spaghetti."
Well, how about "Yes, We Have No Bananas"?
(crashing) Donna, wait.
There's something I got to tell you.
What, Cleveland?
I figured out why I cried at Loretta's funeral.
Survivor's guilt.
Survivor's guilt?
What does that mean, Cleveland?
It means I fell out of that bathtub
more times than could possibly be funny--
and never a scratch.
She falls out once,
breaks her neck and gets Quagmired.
It could have been me.
You cried at your ex-wife's funeral
because of survivor's guilt?
Donna, let me ask you something.
Would you cry if Robert died?
Hush your mouth! (gasps)
You still want to sleep with him, don't you?
I'd like to be asked.
So I can tell him no.
It's not how it seemed
when you first said you'd like to be asked.
Survivor's guilt.
No looking back?
No looking back.
McFALL: Oh, my God.
We do have more olives.
(pop intro)
♪ Love
♪ Love will keep us together ♪
♪ Think of me, babe, whenever... ♪
(crowd booing)
Where's the farting?
Any ass can sing.
We want the singing ass.
CROWD: Cleveland! Cleveland! Cleveland!
Better give them what they want, baby.
You are my soul mate.
CROWD: Cleveland! Cleveland! Cleveland! Cleveland! Cleveland!
(passing gas melodically)
(whooshing)
(cheering and applause)
(sobbing)
You see, Arianna?
I told you you should have let me
take a poop on the stage.
Tim, that can't be your answer to everything.
(crowd cheering)
I love you, Cleveland.
I love you, too, Loretta.
(farts)
(quiet piano) (no audible dialogue)
CLEVELAND: Good-bye, Loretta.