[grunting]
[whistle blowing, cheering]
Oh, I'm getting it all! Go, LJ!
Yeah! Whoo-hoo!
Huh? Chandler, do you mind?
[laughing]
[panting]
What kind of run is that, Loud?!
Ow!
Looks more like an emu trotting across the outback.
[laughing]
Oh great. Scoots.
[whistle blowing] Someone called the zookeeper!
We got ourselves an emu on the loose! Ha!
[growling]
[whistle blowing]
Squawk! Kick it, emu!
[groaning]
Oh.
Squawk! [laughing]
[growling]
[whistle blowing]
Alright, LJ. Score's tied, ten seconds left on the clock.
Focus. Your team needs you.
- Emu! - Huh?
Emu! Emu!
Hey there, birdie!
Thought you could get rid of me that easy?
[grunting]
[gasping, shrieking]
I've got emu legs! [screaming]
[grunting]
[cheering, whistle blowing]
Oh.
Move it, Chandler! What- what happened?
[laughing]
[groaning]
I've never seen Lynn freeze up like that.
I hope she doesn't take it too hard.
[banging]
Oh no! She's rage-lifting again!
[banging]
And those sound like 50-pounders.
[banging]
Ahh! Correction: 60-pounders.
[slurping]
Uh, I'll go talk to her.
[grunting]
If you're here to talk about the game, I'm fine!
So just leave me alone. [grunting]
[screaming]
Okay, fine. If you're gonna nag me,
I'll tell you.
[screaming]
Somehow, Scoots got into my head.
Normally, I'm great
at drowning out the opposing fans.
[grunting]
This time was personal!
She made me self-conscious about how I run!
[sighing]
Boy, you really know just what to say sometimes, Lincoln.
Thanks. [growling]
But I still can't get Scoots out of my head.
Hmm, I think I know how to fix your problem.
Follow me downstairs.
Eh, okay.
[Lynn Sr] Ow! My foot!
Ugh. Thanks, but no thanks.
I don't want to relive the game again.
No, no, it's not that.
What I'm about to show you, might fix your problem.
[laughing]
Ugh. Just a rehash of her ribbon dance
from the Little Miss Miss Thing Pageant.
Excuse me while I yawn.
Oh, boy. Where's the ding dang darn erase button?!
Okay, so maybe Lola has a critic, too.
How's that supposed to help me?
I thought you might say that.
What if I could show you that it's not just Lola,
it's everyone in our family.
Fine. If it'll keep the emus out of my head,
I'll give you a chance.
But if you're wrong, I get to give you 100 noogies.
Is there any room for negotiation?
[snarling]
Okay, and we're moving on.
One, two, three, four!
Ugh! This group sounds worse
than my grandma's piccolo band.
And you call that foam?
[music playing]
Order up!
Ugh! Bleh! He should just stick to lasagna.
This tastes like my denture cream!
- Hmm? - Hmm.
These are letters readers sent to the editor.
Some of them can be pretty mean.
"Dear Rita, your advice stinks.
Next time, I'll save a stamp and ask Mr. Bobbins.
He's a cat."
[yelping] Ooh.
Check out these comments on Luan's comedy blog.
This user, Youre_Not_Funny_123, writes a lot.
'Not funny', thumbs-down emoji, 'Noot fubby'...
I think they meant to write 'not funny' again,
but you get the idea.
[clearing throat]
My colleagues, I have finally cracked
the formula for melt-proof ice cream.
My assistant, Todd, will break down
the molecular structure through interpretive dance.
H-H-Hydrogen, low fat milk.
Not that idiot dancing robot again.
This is just embarrassing.