All right, men!
[clears throat loudly]
All right, I'm sorry. Men and Kevin.
- [Gina] Hm. - [Kevin sighs]
To ensure you're in good enough shape to serve on the force,
you're all gonna have to pass a fitness test.
Now, where the hell is Dusty?
Sorry, I was just warming up...
this lasagna. Y'all want a piece?
Well, fuck off. You ain't getting none.
[gulps]
Just get into your workout gear!
Sure, Chief!
Hi-ya!
Ooh, mama likey.
Uh, Gina?
Yeah, you can't do that here.
Oh, relax. I'm just looking for my keys...
to my masturbation hut.
Ah! Squash me, Dusty!
Crush me like a poor person on Black Friday!
Okay, for our first fitness challenge, we're gonna climb this rope.
Dusty, get your John Goodman-lookin' ass up there!
Dad, John Goodman's skinny now.
He'll be back.
Okay, here goes.
[grunting]
I'm doing it.
Hey, y'all, look! I'm doing it!
No, you're not.
Dusty, I just need to tick a fucking box here, okay?
But you gotta be able to do something.
Can you touch your toes?
I have toes?
Huh. I thought I just floated around like Slimer from Ghostbusters.
[sighs]
Okay. Can you just walk from this cone to that co...
Dusty!
Sorry, I heard "cone," and I got hungry.
That's it, white-trash Buddha!
If you wanna keep your job, you need to join Weight Watchers!
Hate Watchers? Well, I'm already a member.
We just finished watching season two of Westworld last night.
It's slightly better than watching two flies fuck on a turd.
Ugh. You fatties are as stupid as you are gross.
Chief, that is fat shaming.
Stick to racism. We can all find that funny.
No, he's right.
I should be ashamed.
I almost wasted this Boom Chocolatta dripping down on my tits.
[moans]
[Gina moaning]
- [theme music playing] - [Crawford grunts]
- [gunshots] - [criminal shouts]
[Fitz grunts]
[Gina shouts]
- [shouts, groans] - [growls]
Honey, I'm ho...
Did you buy another pair of expensive designer shoes?
- [Dolphin Queen laughs] - It's time for you to get a job.
You're spending too much money.
You bought 10,000 bottles of Fiji water to fill the apartment,
which, may I remind you, you shit in.
[buzzing]
Hmm. This is more entertaining than season two of Westworld.
My name is Thester.
I got depressed when I realized I look like Patton Oswalt.
So I started to eat my feelings,
but that just made me look more like Patton Oswalt.
Thester, no one likes looking like Patton Oswalt.
Especially me.
I'm Patton Oswalt.
Let's all welcome our newest member to Weight Watchers, Dusty...
I'm sorry, why do you have a grill?
Uh, to make bang bang bacon balls, silly.
I heard y'all work on a point system, and I plan on winning!
Who wants one?
- Me! - Me too!
Remember, guys. Bigger snacks, bigger slacks.
We're all here to lose weight.
Lose weight? Why would we wanna do that?
People should accept themselves for who they is.
Big is beautiful!
Except for Patton. That's a face thing. [shudders]
Dusty! Dusty!
That's the spirit, folks!
Now who wants to do a bang bang body shot?
[licking]
Ah! Oh yeah! You gobble those balls, you hungry, hungry hippos.
Gina, are you masturbating again? Listen, I think you got a real problem.
I know an addict when I see one.
You buying this crack or what?
'Course I'm gonna buy that crack! Seriously, Gina, I think you're a junkie.
You still owe me for this crack, man.
I'll suck you off later. Can't you see my friend's a junkie?
I am not. I can quit whenever I want. See?
How about your other hand?
Feet too.
[squeaking]
Ooh, I am so excited!
I wait all year for my free birthday meal from Denny's,
America's white-trash eatery.
I'm sorry, sir, but we're completely out of food.
Out of food? How could that be?
[gobbling]
Ain't this better than a diet? A lot of people don't know this,
but Denny's will let you order off the senior menu
as long as you only got two years left to live.
[all] Ooh!
[all] Ah!
You think that's something? Check this out.
Oh my God! He can turn water into wine!
Wine? That's Purplesaurus Rex, silly.
Doctor said my blood sugar's so high, I'm basically one big Kool-Aid packet.
Great. More fat people to turn Gina's head.
Why am I doomed to die alone?
Because you cried when Iron Man died?
I loved him 3,000.
Look at these lard-asses ruining the country
and my birthday breakfast.
Jesus, Randall, where is this hostility coming from?
I don't know, Karen, maybe from my acute allergy to tubs of shit.
I mean, could they be any more disgusting?
Ooh, sausage!
Nope, that was a cat turd.
And the answer is "yes."
Don't worry. Denny's always makes me too big for my britches.
That's why I carry emergency slankets,
the perfect portmanteau of sadness and blanket.
And it can be used for everything, except wiping your ass.
Unless you're wearing a flushable slanket, which I am!
Okay, son. Picc-o-lo.
This is a piccolo.
Huh. Now you say it.
Damn it, this shit must come from your side of the family.
[squeaking]
You got a job? Where?
[squeaking]
SeaWorld? Oh! We're gonna be rich!
Heh, and I know just how to celebrate.
Fuck you, fuck this town,
fuck these mutants who want to kill me! I quit!
[groans]
Greetings and salu-tater-tots, you bony bitches.
What the fuck, Dusty?
I sent you to Weight Watchers, and you started a fat cult!
It's not a cult!
These are just friends who do everything I say,
offer me their bodies for sex, and occasionally kill people in my name.
Does that sound like a cult to you?
Given that you've grown a fourth FUPA,
I see you have no interest in passing the fitness test and keeping your job.
Nah, I don't need money anyways.
My new non-cult friends
have generously given me all their life savings,
except Donald.
He's a little bit... Jew-ish.
You're fired, Dusty! Get out of my sight!
And make sure to take all the other Ranch Davidians. Boom!
Ranch Davidians?
I wonder how many clever fat-cult puns we gonna hear this episode.
And you can't fire me.
I quit!
Oh man, look at all those big, sexy Pie-entologists.
Boom!
Whoa, Jesus! What's going on down there?
Guess I rubbed it raw, but it's probably fine.
Fine? It looks like you have Jon Hamm's crank in your pants.
Google it. He's got a huge pecker.
Orlando Bloom too. Both of 'em. World-class cocks.
Anyway, you gotta see a doctor.
You know, Dad, I don't think it's good
to have some kind of fat cult around Gina...
- I mean, around town. - You're damn right!
We're gonna run these fatties the hell out of Paradise,
starting with you, John Goodman.
[groans]
I knew I'd be back.
[ominous music plays]
I am sick of society making us feel bad for being fat.
Even churches do it,
putting skinny little Jesus up on the cross.
I know Jesus was a fat man because the Bible's basically a cookbook.
The Garden of Eatin',
the Ten Condiments,
the Arc of the Coconut.
♪ Go lick the chocolate fountain ♪
♪ Let my pizza dough ♪
[all] Praise the Lord!
[screams]
That's a weird-looking milkshake machine.
It's called an exercise bike.
And there's a notice taped to it.
Chief Crawford has declared a citywide ban on slankets!
That Cardi B butt-chinned sumbitch!
But clothes don't fit us anymore.
What are we gonna do if we can't wear slankets, O Great One?
Don't worry. I got a solution.
In the meantime, let's just hope Chief don't throw any more
ambiguous exercise stuff through our window.
Hi!
Come to party off the pounds with Richard Simmons!
One and two and three! Now heels!
I can see your balls.
Congratulations! Is it a boy or a girl?
It's a clitoris.
Oh, Gina, that's just not possible.
You see, a meteor wiped them all out, and they went extinct.
A clitoris is not a dinosaur. It's my female pleasure center.
Oh, you mean your clam buzzer?
Yeah, my clitoris.
Look, Gina, we're adults here.
No need to make up silly slang terms for your twat toggle.
Ah-ha.
Oh my! I've never seen anything like this.
A giant clitoris?
Any clitoris.
Well, it's extremely swollen, but you're going to be just fine,
as long as you don't pleasure yourself for the next 48 hours.
What? That's like telling Nancy Pelosi she can't fart in her hand and smell it.
[farts, sniffs]
Oh, that's skunky!
What happens if I just touch it a little?
Well, then I'm afraid your clito-saurus will fall off.
[dramatic music plays]
Okay. I can control myself.
There's no reason I can't.
[dog barks]
[screams]
Oh, no, you don't!
[grunts] Oh, no, you don't! Oh, no, you don't!
[police siren blaring]
Jesus! Why are you and Heaven's Cake... Boom!...all naked?
You banned slankets, asshole. It's actually fine with us.
It was time we stopped hiding our perfect bodies
and expose 'em to the world.
Well, you're all under arrest for indecent exposure.
Indecent exposure?
Well, I don't see any private parts. Do you?
Yeah, well, I got a search warrant.
I know you're hiding a dick in there somewhere.
Oh shit! I'm getting sucked in!
Kevin, grab my legs!
[muffled screams]
Me and your dad are now one, Kevie.
[chuckles] We made it to Florida!
Oh, I can't wait to see your mother's big SeaWorld debut.
Hey, everyone! Welcome to SeaWorld!
Because fuck whales, am I right?
We're gonna abuse the dolphins in just a little bit,
but first, who wants to see a baby otter's nuts get electrocuted?
[through electrolarynx] Whoo! Florida rules!
Son, stop licking your balls.
If you're hungry, we will get you a snack.
- [barking] - One, please.
Uh, thanks, honey.
Honey?
This is the job you got at SeaWorld?
Selling cotton candy?
[squeaking]
I quit my job, and we moved cross-country.
And we didn't even get away from mutants because Florida has even more.
[through electrolarynx] Whoo! Florida rules!
We... are... fucked!
We can't survive on minimum wage.
Minimum wage?
[chuckles] She owes us money 'cause she keeps dissolving all the cotton candy
with her wet freakin' flippers.
[dolphin clicking]
Why would you hire a dolphin to sell cotton candy anyway?
I've done way worse.
Check out my garbage-collecting Seal.
Minimum wage!
This is the most money I've made in 25 years!
♪ Baby... ♪
[coughs]
All right. Rock and roll!
[ominous music plays]
I can't believe the slanket ban backfired.
We have gotta find a way to rid Paradise of Dusty
and his Jonestown Buffet.
Boom!
I can't explain that, but it was awesome.
Well, we need to do something. They're scaring away investors
and jeopardizing my Rebuild Paradise Initiative.
So, how do we get the fat people to leave town?
Narrow the doorways? Impose a gravy tax?
Murder Jimmy Fallon?
Dad, that can't be the solution for everything.
Prove me wrong, Kevin. Prove me wrong.
We need something to tip the scales in our favor.
Scales! That's it! Oh, I'm a genius.
I'm taking the credit. Fuck you, Kevin.
[panting]
Bullet. Bullet, you were right.
Oh, I know. I saw the Nancy Pelosi cutaway.
No, I mean that I'm a junkie. I'm addicted to slappin' my slit skittle!
Wow, someone learned some medical terms.
I got equipment that could help you shake your habit.
- Because you're an addict? - No, because I'm a dog.
Okay, there. Now this should keep you from being sexually stimulated.
Oh God.
[moaning]
- [gobbling] - Dusty! What the hell are you doing?
What? If I see a cone, I gotta eat ice cream out of it.
I thought we established this?
[instrumental rock version of "Amazing Grace" playing]
Follow me, my friends, for I shall lead you to the promised land.
The Golden Corral buffet!
Aw, I see some of our members have already arrived.
No, that's just Chris Christie and his family having dinner.
Huh. I didn't think he ate anything but Donald Trump's ass.
That's a joke from 2016!
Ah!
Hello there. What's your name?
Skip? Hi, Skip.
We gonna have 12 for dinner slash breakfast
slash whenever the fuck we decide we've had enough.
Listen, I'm really very sorry,
but there is a new Paradise law that says we cannot serve anyone over 300 pounds.
Well, that should not be a problem.
I don't suppose it'll go down when I put my second foot on it, huh?
I am sorry, y'all, but I'm gonna have to ask you biguns to leave.
Well, friends, I guess we have no choice about what we must do next.
[screams]
[Dusty] Fuck you, Skip!
Oh, I think I see a free table.
[church organ music playing]
[gobbling]
Hey, Christie, you with us or against us?
Okay, I explained to the attendant how we're completely broke
and need to get back to Paradise,
and he said we could have the gas for free...
if he can have a picture of your vagina.
[squeaking]
That's what I told him!
[laughs nervously] No way!
[chuckles nervously] No how.
[squeaking]
I don't know where this Polaroid camera came from.
Really, honey? You're gonna douse your husband in gasoline?
[through electrolarynx] Whoo! Florida rules!
Here you go. One picture of my wife's vagina.
Oh yeah, baby. Take all the gas you want.
Uh, now that we have a deal, there's one thing I should let you know.
Um, that's my butthole! [laughs]
[unintelligible grunt]
We have the place surrounded!
Drop your loaded baked potatoes and come out with your hams up!
Golden Corral's all you can eat, and we ain't finished yet!
[grunts]
So fuck off!
That's it, men... and Kevin.
Prepare for an all-out assault.
Guns, grenades, tear gas, SlimFast.
Whatever it takes to obliterate these fat fucks.
- What? - No way.
- [Gina groans] - Who am I?
As much as I'd love to have less competition
in the sexiness department, I couldn't hurt Dusty.
All right, I don't need you.
I'll find a way into the compound myself and take out those Jehovah's Unfitnesses.
That one wasn't great.
Ah, fuck it!
[grunts] Almost there.
Ah, shit. I'm stuck.
[Crawford screams]
[gobbling]
Freeze, or I'll shoot!
[gunshots ricocheting]
Goddamn it!
Don't worry. We gonna pull you out.
[grunting]
Hey, careful. My clothes are coming off.
No, not my Spanx!
[gasps] Oh!
Please don't look at me. I'm hideous!
Chief! I never knew you were so...
Fat!
I'm a closeted fat guy, all right?
I was gonna say gorgeous.
[sniffles] No, I'm not.
Being fat is gross.
Oh, Chief.
You're a self-hating fat,
like one of them homophobic politicians
who turns out to just love sucking peters all the time.
You know, like Steve Wiles from North Carolina,
or Randy Boehning from North Dakota,
or Mark Foley from Florida,
or Richard Curtis from Washington,
or Glenn Murphy from Indiana, or Ralph Shortey from Oklahoma,
or Larry Craig from Idaho.
[gasps] There's more, but I'm running out of breath.
Why would you act like this, Chief?
Because God hates fats.
Well, I'm God here,
and I love all my childrens.
Yeah, I knew it was a cult the whole time.
Now, get in here and find comfort in my divine embrace,
you beautiful, pudgy bastard.
Thank you, Dusty.
You lard goblins accepted me when I couldn't even accept myself.
And you can have your badge back.
But what about my fitness test?
Fuck that. I couldn't pass either. Come on, pal. Let's get outta here.
[dramatic music playing]
Oh shit. The FBI must be out there pulling a Waco.
Pulling a Waco? Well, that's Roger's job.
Ah!
The FBI didn't start the fire. We did.
Why would you do that?
You told us we had a suicide pact.
I meant a pact that we would all drink a suicide soda, you fat fucks!
You know, mixing all the flavors together.
[Dusty grunts]
Oh no.
We've got to put that fire out before the fat cult burns to death
and makes the whole town smell like bacon.
Bacon! Bacon, bacon, bacon, bacon!
Oh, sorry. I don't know what came over me.
[grunts] Let me go!
I know you want to save them, Gina. There's no point risking your own life.
Trust me. I'm the only one who can save them!
[grunts]
[screams]
[unzips pants]
[Gina] Oh yeah.
Oh... my... God!
She gonna squirt.
[screaming]
[death metal music playing]
[all cheer]
Okay, that happened.
I want to thank Gina for sacrificing her beaver bean
to save her fellow officers.
So, it fell off, Gina?
Oh, yeah, but it's okay. The doctors gave me a bionic clitoris.
So, what does it do?
Everything a normal clitoris does.
So, what does it do?
Oh hey, guys. What did I miss while I was out on patrol?
Yeah, nice try, Fitz. You quit.
Uh... that wasn't me. [chuckles]
That was... uh... the Kingpin!
Bullshit, Fitz!
You don't work here anymore. Get the fuck out.
Well, how about this?
You give me my job back, with a raise so I can support my family,
and in exchange, I give you a photo of my wife's vagina.
Why didn't you lead with that? You got yourself a deal!
Just one more thing, Chief...
That's... my... butthole!
[singer] ♪ It's the "That's My Butthole" guy! ♪
[Fitz laughs]
All right, I have no idea what the fuck just happened,
but at least I can enjoy this chocolate hole.
Mmm.
Dusty, your message of self-acceptance has changed my life.
Fat people aren't gross. There's just more of us to love.
I'll eat to that! Clink.
[gobbling]
Oh, this is what happiness feels like, right?
Crushing chest pain?
[grunts]
Aww, how cute. Chief had his first little heart atta...
[grunts]
Myahhh!
[death metal music playing]