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| - Muscle Man: Oh, it's on. Muscle Man (continued): Time to bust out the popcorn, baby. Muscle Man (continued): Why aren't you laughing, babe? You always laugh when we go on dates! Starla: Mitch, we have to talk. Starla (continued): I've been thinking. We need to take our relationship to the next level. My parents are in town tonight, and I think you should meet them over dinner! Muscle Man: Whoa, seriously? Babe, that's a huge step! Muscle Man (continued): And I already know the perfect place: Wing Kingdom. Starla: Uh, I don't think you should take my parents to Wing Kingdom. (Muscle Man frowns as Starla gives her opinion) I have another place in mind. Muscle Man: Oh no, bro. Muscle Man (continued): Uh, are you sure about this place? Starla: Yeah! This is the best place to make an impression. I really want my parents to like you. Muscle Man: Sure. Then, let's go here, babe. Starla: (Kisses Muscle Man) I'm so excited for my parents to meet you! (Gasps) I have so much to do! Muscle Man: I'd like to make a reservation. Muscle Man (continued): Yeah. Sorrenstein, party of four, seven o'clock p.m. Matire'd: Oui, Mr. Sorrenstein, we will see you tonight at seven. Now, we do have a strict dress code. Muscle Man: (Begins sweating profusely) Dress code? Matire'd: Oui. Black tie, jacket... Muscle Man: (M&R look on) Jacket? I think I might have a windbreaker. Matire'd: (Angrily) What?! Did I mention a shirt and shoes are required as well?! Muscle Man: Uh... Of course not; I know that! Now, this is totally a joke question, but that shirt has to be clean too, right? Matire'd: What?! Well, I never! Muscle Man: (Frightened) See you at seven! Rigby: Lemme guess, Bistro en Le Parc? Muscle Man: Yeah. I have to meet Starla's parents there tonight. Mordecai and Rigby: Whoa, takin' it to the next level! Muscle Man: Yeah, but didn't you hear that? I barely made it through the reservation! How am I gonna impress Starla's parents if I can't even make a reservation? Mordecai: Dude, just be yourself. Muscle Man: I can't be myself! Myself sucks! Starla will totally dump me if her parents don't like me. Rigby: We'll help you get fancy for your dinner. Muscle Man: Really, dudes? Mordecai: Yeah, man. We're your friends. We hate to see you bummed out. Rigby: Plus, last time Starla dumped you, you got all sad and we had to do your work. Muscle Man: (Laughs) Yeah. Sure glad I'm not you guys. Where do we start? Mordecai: Not we. Mordecai (continued): He. Pops: (Laughs) I'm so happy that you decided to become fancy, Muscle Man. And, you want me to help! I even wrote a book about it! (Puts a book on the table, titled:) Fanciness, Theory and Practical Application. (Opens book) A practical application of advanced theory of fanciness. Pops (continued): Volume one of six. First printing, publishing date, M-C-M, X, V, I-I-I... Mordecai: Dude, we're gonna have to do this our way. Muscle Man: Good. 'Cause I don't know if I can handle having to listen to Pops speak Spanish anymore. Mordecai and Rigby: Whoa! Mordecai: Dude! You look like a whole new man! Rigby: How do you feel? Muscle Man: Fancy. Muscle Man (continued): I can't do this! Mordecai: We're gonna need a plan B. (To Rigby) Rigby, you still got those mini-headsets? Muscle Man: (Into headseat) Testing, testing! I don't know if I can do this, guys. Mordecai: Dude, don't worry! We got this! Mordecai (continued): Me and Rigby are already inside. Rigby: Just stick to the plan. Everything will be alright. Muscle Man: Thanks, dudes. I-- Starla: (Waving) Mitch! Mitch! Muscle Man: (As Starla and her parents approach) Whoa! Babe! You look totally ho-- (Starla frowns) ...uh, lovely! Starla: Mitch... (Pans over to her parents) ...these are my parents. Rigby: (Over headset) Shake their hands. Muscle Man: (Shaking the father's hand) Mitch Sorrenstein. Herb: Charmed. I am Sir Herbert Gotzmendoder. (Introduces wife) And this is my wife, Madame Rose Gotzmendoder. Rose: (Raises hand) How do you do? Muscle Man: Let's go inside, shall we? Rigby: (Over headset) Dude, get the door!!! Matire'd: Welcome to Bistro en Le Parc. Muscle Man: Sorrenstein. Table for 4. Matire'd: I hope Misure found a clean shirt. Muscle Man: (Laughs) You know it, Bro. Matire'd: Yes. Your table awaits. Maitre'd (continued): Keep an eye on them. Rigby: (Over headset) Dude, pull out the chair for Starla. Rigby: You're up, Mordecai. Mordecai: Showtime. Starla: Oooo... Mordecai: Ah... If it isn't Mr. Sorenstein. Are you ready to order, Sir? Muscle Man: Uh... Rigby: Muscle Man, you're supposed to order for the table. Muscle Man: Oh right. The ladies will have the lobster, and the gentleman will have the (Mispronouncing) filet mignon. I mean, if the ladies and gentleman are cool with that. Both: Indeed. Mordecai: Excellent choice, sir. Muscle Man: And here's a little something for yourself. Make sure things are extra fancy. Mordecai: (Whispering to Muscle Man) Put your napkin in your lap. Muscle Man: Oh, right. Mordecai: (To Rigby) You're up. Rigby: Okay, Muscle Man, get ready for some fancy conversation topics. Rigby: How are you two enjoy- Muscle Man: The weather? Um... because I think it's uh... nice lately. Both: Indeed. Muscle Man: Uh... so what do you uh... do? Uh... I work full-time in park uh... management. Rose: Oh. Both: Indeed. Muscle Man: Yeah, I'm just lucky I get to do what I love, which is basically just mowing the lawn topless. Mordecai: Whoa, whoa, hey, hey. Hot salads coming through. Cool it with the topless talk. Here's your salad, sir. Muscle Man: Salad? I love salad; I eat it frequently. Let's dig in, shall we? Rigby: (Over headset) FORK, FORK; USE YOUR FORK! Muscle Man: Uh... Both: Salad fork! Muscle Man: To which I replied: "My mom". Starla: Hey, this is going so well. They really like you. Mordecai: He did it! He got through the whole meal! Rigby: Wait, who's that? Matire'd: Your dessert, sir. Muscle Man: Huh? Uh... you're not our waiter. Matire'd: Oh no, your waiter is on a break. Matire'd: But do not worry. I will take care of you now. Muscle Man: Uh... Matire'd: Please taste the dessert. It's the fanciest we have to offer. Muscle Man: But there's no forks. Matire'd: Oh, there's no forks for this dessert. Only spoons. Now pick up a spoon and eat it! Maitre'd: You chose wrong. (Snaps fingers) It's time for you to leave. Muscle Man: What? Why? Matire'd: Because you're not fancy. You do not eat the Crème brûlée with that kind of spoon. You disgust me. Herb: Is that true, Mitch? You faked being fancy? Matire'd: Oui . (Referring to Muscle Man and Starla) It's true; they're not fancy at all. Matire'd: And if you will not leave, we will escort you out. So what will it be? Muscle Man: So what? So I'm not fancy. I only faked it so I could impress my girlfriend's parents, who, by the way, I learned are actually pretty cool. Who cares what kind of spoon this is. Muscle Man (continued): Starla, you're the only one I care about. We're finishing our dessert. Matire'd: Very well. Enjoy your desserts... in the emergency room! Muscle Man: Get your hands off her, bro! Waiter: What are you going to do about it? Mucsle Man: Huh? Herb? Herb: I have something to confess too: I'm not fancy neither! Matire'd: Destroy them! Herb: Me and Rose were just pretending cause we wanted to impress you. Muscle Man: You didn't have to do that. Rigby: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Mordecai: We're unarmed. Waiter: Well, let me give you a hand. Waiter: Let go of my satisfaction chain! Muscle Man: Hey, Starla, nice- (Kicks) What? What the? Starla: Are you okay, Mitch? Muscle Man: Let's get out of here. Herb: I know exactly where we can go. Muscle Man: I thought you guys are picky. Herb: We are. Hey, this place makes Bistro en Le Parc look like Bistro en Le Trash. Herb (continued): This calls for a toast! Muscle Man: I'll do you one better, Herb. Mordecai: You want the rest of my wings? Rigby: No, thanks. I just lost my appetite.
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