It was Saturday evening, and the Bluth family had gathered at
the Newport Country Club to celebrate Michael and Lindsay’s
The venue had proved a sore point within the family, as Buster
was still banned from the grounds following an embarrassing
incident two months previously, involving him accidentally
swallowing one of his sister Lindsay’s Teamocil tablets and
mistaking the manager of the club for his brother GOB.
It took two hours for the doctor to remove Buster’s hook
from the manager’s rear.
Lucille: I told you not to leave those pills lying
Lindsay: Better a Teamocil than a bottle of scotch,
Lucille: Better a bottle of scotch than a big vat of
french fries, just you remember that.
When the manager was next able to sit at his desk, his first
order of business was banning Buster from his country club.
His second order of business was banning prosthetic limbs.
And so the family left Buster home alone and went to celebrate
the day Michael and Lindsay came into their lives.
Lindsay, standing in front of a heaving buffet table,
wearing an eye-patch and lots of calamine lotion: Well,
this certainly is lavish, Mother!
Michael: Yeah, Mom, I thought we agreed to not spend so
much on this party. We’re trying to save, remember?
Lucille: Oh, relax. Most of this food is leftovers.
There was a wake held here yesterday.
[insert cut-away of leftover cake with the Grim Reaper
represented on it in black icing.]
Lindsay puts down her slice of cake: Urgh.
Michael: Who has a wake at a country club?
The person who had, on the previous afternoon, held their wake
in the Garden Room was Mary Mittelbraun - the Club’s oldest
member, and a staunch teetotaller. Her lavish wake was the
reason the family were all able to afford the venue today, on
the understanding that the Club wouldn’t have to re-cater,
re-decorate, or even tidy the room. Fortunately for the
family, Mary’s friends were not exactly party animals and
the room had remained relatively clean. Unfortunately for the
family, all the drinks left over were non-alcoholic.
Lindsay, knocking back non-alcoholic wine: Oh, well, at
least the booze is good.
Lucille, clinking their glasses together: Hear hear.
Lucille would have been far less complacent, however, had she
known what her youngest son was up to at that moment.
Buster was not happy about being the only member of the family
not able to go to the party, largely because he was aware that
his old love interest Lucille 2 would be attending the party,
and he didn’t want his rival for her affections, brother
GOB, to get a chance at rekindling the flame Buster wanted so
much to re-ignite.
GOB, approaching Lucille 2 as smooth as ever: Well
hello there. Fancy running into you.
As a matter of fact Lucille 2 was there with new boyfriend
Stan Sitwell, a kind and generous man who made her very
content, but who - due to an unfortunate affliction that
rendered him completely hairless - was currently experimenting
with a new style of wig, something about which Lucille 2 was
not particularly happy.
‘Lucille’ turns around and is actually Sitwell in an
uncannily familiar wig: Why GOB, you get more handsome
every time I see you.
GOB drops his slice of cake: Argh!
Buster, realising that he’d have to do something to stop his
brother from muscling in on his territory once more, went in
search of a disguise that would allow him to sneak onto the
Newport’s grounds unnoticed.
Buster in front of a store mirror, holding a green
sequinned dress against himself: You lookin’ at me?
Having settled on an outfit, Buster needed a wig, and so
procured one from the only place he knew…
[Insert shot of Buster unlocking a door and sneaking into a
Buster knew he would also have to disguise his hook, knowing
that security had been offered a $100 reward for catching
anyone trying to sneak into the club without one of their
limbs. He went to his local prosthetics store, and tried on a
variety of hands…
[insert shot of Buster trying on prosthetic toothbrush,
prosthetic hairdryer, prosthetic candy bar]
...before finding a hand that most closely resembled his own.
Buster, in front of a store mirror, points at himself with
his new hand, which is black: I said, you lookin’ at me?
He then packed a bag with his regular clothes – including
his hook – to change into once he got past security, and set
off for the club.
Tobias, meanwhile, was doing everything in his power to make
this birthday a memorable one for his wife Lindsay. So far
today he had accidentally spilled hot coffee over her whilst
bringing her breakfast in bed and given her an expensive bunch
of flowers, causing a rare but intense allergic reaction. The
eye-patch was Buster’s fault, resulting from an
over-enthusiastic birthday hug. Michael had subsequently
He was also labouring under the mistaken belief that Lindsay
had subtly hinted that what she wanted more than anything at
her birthday party was for a stripper to perform.
The night before, in their bedroom, with Tobias drying his
hair with a prosthetic hair-dryer hand:
Lindsay: Where are my male strippers?
Lindsay: I said WHERE ARE MY MALE STRIPPERS?!
Lindsay: God, what is wrong with you?! Oh, wait, there
[Insert shot of Lindsay grabbing her manicure set from the
shelf over the sink.]
Tobias had finished drying what hair he had, and gone
downstairs to look for the Yellow Pages.
Now hiding out in the garden, Tobias was on the phone giving
last-minute instructions to the stripper he’d procured – a
man by the name of Ice who used to earn a living as a bounty
Tobias: Well what are you going to wear? What?! No, no,
no, believe me, I know what my wife will find attractive, and
that’s not it. Let me find an outfit for you, you just get
here. I’ll leave it out for you. Yes— N-E-W-P…
Tobias wanted his wife to have a good birthday, but he
didn’t want it to be that good.
Meanwhile, GOB was intently wooing Lucille 2 (not Sitwell) by
plying her with what he also didn’t realise were
Lucille 2: Oh, GOB, you’re so bad. I’m starting to
feel quite tipsy!
GOB: Uh oh, we can’t have that… you might do
something you… regret.
Lucille 2: I just might.
GOB, filling up her glass again: That’s what I like
Michael approaches, trying to move the evening along before
another person from the club comes over to give condolences to
Michael: GOB, could I talk with you for a minute?
GOB to Lucille 2: I’ll be right back. Don’t stop
Lucille 2: Oh, I won’t!
Michael: What are you doing?
GOB: It’s called wooing, Michael. People do it right
before they have sex.
Michael: That’s not what you’re doing. What
you’re doing is getting an old and possibly infirm lady
GOB: Ah, same difference.
Michael: If Buster finds out that you were moving in on
Lucille 2 while he was at home alone—
GOB: But he won’t find out, will he, Michael? He’s
Buster was there. Or rather, he was standing outside the large
wall used to keep out poor people and prosthetic limbs,
waiting for the opportunity to throw his bag of clothes over
the wall and onto the grounds before he walked in the front
After covertly throwing his rucksack over the wall, Buster
walked confidently in the front door, nodding happily at the
only security guard.
Security Guard: Good evening, Ms Lostero.
Lindsay and Michael were camped out on the back porch eating
cake and feeling maudlin. This wasn’t exactly the birthday
party of their dreams.
Michael: I mean, this isn’t exactly the Birthday
party of my dreams, you know?
Lindsay: Oh boy, do I know. I mean, look at me. I’m a
Michael: Yeah, you really are.
Lindsay: My idiot husband has injured me twice today,
my idiot brother once, now all I need is an extra-humiliating
social event and this birthday is complete.
Michael: I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.
Lindsay: And not only that, but I took a Teamocil
forty-five minutes ago and I’m not feeling any of the
Michael: You’re not still on that stuff, are you?
Lindsay: Well what do you expect, Michael? I’m
twenty-nine years old—
Michael: We share a birthday, you know.
Lindsay: Oh right, I forgot that. Well anyway,
there’s… my real age, my failing marriage, my daughter –
where the hell is she, anyway? She’s supposed to be here,
supporting her mother on her birthday.
Michael: I don’t know. I haven’t seen her or
George-Michael all evening, come to think of it.
Lindsay: Well do you blame me for wanting a little
Michael: ...Is there any leftover?
Lindsay: Oh, yeah, sure… wait, where the hell are
Tobias, desperately in need of an outfit for his stripper to
wear, had asked at the country club reception if they had any
spare clothes. When all they could offer him was a pair of
golf pants and a sweater, he realised he needed to try
It was here that fate stepped in, and before he could call
Maeby for help, one of the waiters from the party handed him a
paper napkin from the party and a key.
Waiter: My condolences for your loss.
Tobias: Well, thank you kindly.
The key was to a private room in the country club. Tobias,
intrigued, unfolded the napkin. It simply said:
Thinking that some helpful member of staff had overheard his
problems and was kindly offering a solution to them, Tobias
threw the note aside and quickly ascended the stairs to room
What had actually happened was that the waiter - a
short-sighted man who was reluctant to wear his glasses around
the club, unsure as to whether they qualified as prosthetic
enhancements - had been slipped the piece of paper by Lucille
2, and mistakenly believed Tobias to be the “handsome
dark-haired young man” Lucille had been referring to.
Buster, having managed to bluff his way past the guards by
pretending to be Lucille Lostero (plus one black hand), was
now wandering throughout the grounds trying to find the bag he
had thrown over the wall. Inside were his clothes, including
his prosthetic hook, all of which he needed if he were going
to walk into the party and sweep Lucille of her feet. Not
literally, of course.
He was having no luck, however, and it was getting
increasingly dark. Since being forced by his father, in an
attempt to increase his son's manliness, to go on a hike in
the countryside as a small child, Buster had been terrified by
the sounds of wilderness at night. Hearing a particularly
effective wolf howl, he cried out in fear:
And ran back inside.
Back at the party, Michael was still trying to convince GOB to
lay off Buster’s ex-girlfriend.
Michael: Apart from anything, she’s dating our
biggest rival. We don’t want to give him a reason to hate us
more than he should— does.
GOB: I think it’s a little late for that, Michael.
Michael: Uh oh, why do you say that?
GOB: Let’s just say that, with a little help from
Lindsay, I’ve ensured my victory. Tonight, Lucille 2 will be
Michael: Ok, firstly, that’s really gross. And
secondly, what do you mean, assured? What did you do?
GOB: Just slipped her a little happy pill. Something to
get her going a little, so she’ll be guaranteed to succumb
when I make my move.
Michael: Oh my God, that’s the most unethical thing
I’ve ever heard.
GOB: Is it, Michael? Or are you just jealous you
didn’t think of it first?
Michael: Wait, Lindsay helped you?
GOB: That’s right. She doesn’t know it, but I took
a little something from her purse. Just to get the party
started, if you know what I mean.
Michael: Let me see that.
GOB: Should kick in any minute now. And then? I make my
Michael: These are anti-histamines.
GOB: Wait, what?
Michael: No wonder Lindsay wasn’t feeling any
effects—these aren’t Teamocil, they’re anti-histamines.
All you did was stop her being allergic to you.
GOB: Score one for team GOB!
Meanwhile, Tobias had found room 206, and inside discovered a
veritable cornucopia of women’s clothing.
Tobias, in front of a mirror, holding up a black sequinned
dress just like the one Buster is wearing: Well it’s not
exactly what I’d had in mind, but I’m in a sticky
situation… It’ll do just fine.
At this point, he had attempted to get through to Ice’s
mobile telephone, but was getting no answer to his persistent
calls. After forty minutes of trying to contact Ice, with the
time they had the room for ticking down steadily, Tobias
realised he had to make a decision.
In desperation he went downstairs and collared his
brother-in-law and ex-stripper GOB.
Tobias: Ah, GOB, I need you to do me a little… favour.
GOB: What’s in it for me?
Tobias: Well I don’t have any money—
GOB: Then, no.
Tobias: But I could offer you… and I’m not proud of
this, believe me. I have here something that might… get this
party started, if you know what I mean.
GOB: Is that Teamocil?
Tobias: It is indeed. I stole it from my wife’s
purse. But this might cause your evening to improve a whole
hell of a lot!
GOB realised that there was still time for him to recoup the
mistake made earlier in the evening.
GOB: What do you want me to do?
Tobias: I need a stripper. Now it’s for your sister,
which I admit some people might find a little gross, but I’m
in a bind—
GOB: I’ll do it.
Tobias: Excellent! Now, you need to head on up to room
206, I’ve laid out some clothes for you…
Little did Tobias know, however, that his stripper was in fact
on the grounds.
Ice, arriving early to case out the venue – a habit left
over from his bounty hunter days – had been doing a
perimeter watch when he was ambushed from behind and knocked
out. When he woke up, he assumed he had been ambushed by
someone for some nefarious purpose, when actually he had
simply been knocked out by Buster’s bag flying over the
wall, containing Buster’s very heavy prosthetic hook.
On waking up, Ice found the bag by his head, and a quick
search indicated the bag contained a full, if bizarre, outfit.
Remembering Tobias’ assurance that he would leave come
clothes out for him, he incorrectly thought that the clothes
inside the bag were those that Tobias wished for him to wear
to strip for his wife.
Back in the foyer, Buster had been waylaid by Stan Sitwell,
who under the influence of rather a lot of non-alcoholic wine
had approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around what
appeared to be Lucille 2’s waist.
Buster, dropping a stolen slice of cake: Argh!
Sitwell: I want you tonight, my darling.
Buster: You do?
Stan: Let’s go to our room.
Buster: Our—oh, you must mean—I mean, yes, I am
Lucille 2 and I will go to our room.
Stan, pressing kisses to Buster’s neck: Excellent.
My, you’ve got a cold hand there.
Buster: Er, but first, before we go to our room and--
could you… er…
Buster, desperately trying to think of a way to get Stan away
from him so that he could case their bedroom, recalled Lucille
2’s predilection for egg rolls before sex.
Buster thought he may as well try this, and so sent Sitwell
out for some egg rolls – a task with which he seemed to be
Sitwell, muttering: Next time I’m bringing some with
And so Buster gathered his skirts and ascended the stairs to
GOB was at that very moment putting the finishing touches to
the outfit that Tobias had picked out for him.
GOB, in the black sequinned dress and Lucille 2-style wig: I
do not understand how these people make their marriage work.
GOB left the room and began to make his way downstairs, just
as Buster reached the second floor and entered room 206.
Finding it empty, he decided Lucille must still be downstairs
and also made his way back to the party.
Tobias meanwhile was rallying everyone together, ready for the
show to come. He had procured a microphone, and made a speech
wishing his wife many happy returns:
Tobias, climbing clumsily onto the stage: Ladies and
gentleman, I’d like to take this moment to wish my wife a
very happy birthday. She’s the best wife a man could have,
and I know that she has been looking forward to the gift I’m
going to give her here today. I know it’s certainly
something I’d be happy receiving!
Lindsay was puzzled by this, to say the least, as she had been
dropping hints for a week about what she really wanted for her
Lindsay over dinner: I’d like chicken BREAST, please.
Because there’s very little else that can make me feel like
Lindsay at the health spa: I like BREAST-stroke best,
Tobias. I feel like I need that something extra it gives me.
Lindsay the previous night while Tobias was drying his
hair: I want a boob job for my birthday!
In the dark behind the stage curtain, Ice was ready to go on,
dressed up like Buster, complete with prosthetic hook and
believing Lindsay to have some very particular preferences.
GOB was also waiting in the wings, but the poor light meant
that he couldn’t see the other stripper waiting to perform.
Out in the room, Tobias was getting Lindsay up on stage.
Tobias: And now I’d like to introduce your birthday
Ready to go onstage, GOB suddenly heard a rustling beside him
and turned, making out the distinctive shape of Lucille 2’s
hair in the darkness.
GOB, whispering: There you are, my darling!
It wasn’t Lucille. It was Buster, who unfortunately also
thought his brother was Lucille 2. Not helped by the fact that
GOB chose that moment to use some very unfortunate phrasing:
GOB, still whispering: It’s me, Lucille! Oh, how I
Buster also whispering: Oh, my love!
GOB: Say my name.
Buster: Oh, Lucille!
GOB: No, say my name!
While Lucilles 3 and 4 reconciled behind the curtain, outside
on stage Ice had begun his performance, and the Bluth family
and their friends watched in horror as a man dressed as
Lindsay’s handicapped brother began to strip for her to
GOB’s music of choice – ‘The Final Countdown’.
Unfortunately it was at that moment that Lucille 2, drugged by
GOB and having passed out from the antihistamine, woke up from
where she had fallen behind the curtain. The terrifying sight
of two versions of herself embracing in front of her caused
her to scream, which unnerved Ice. Unused to his hook, he
stumbled and tore down the curtain, exposing the two brothers
– who had luckily not yet progressed too far beyond an
initial clinch – and the horrified woman who was convinced
she was hallucinating, all dressed in pretty much the same
Also unfortunate was that it was at that moment that the
manager walked in. Spying not only Buster, whom he had banned
from the club two months earlier, but also two prosthetic
limbs and a woman clearly under the influence of drugs, he
banned the Bluths from the Newport Country Club for life –
even as pool-only members.
And later, in the car on the way home:
Michael: Well, that was pretty much a distaster.
Lindsay: Tell me about it. At least by the end of the
night I had enough booze in me not to care. Boy, am I going to
have a hangover tomorrow!
Michael: ...Uh huh.
Lindsay: Let's just thank God our kids weren't here to
Michael: Yeah, where are they...?
On the next Arrested Development:
Lucille is reduced to sneaking into her club dressed as
Lucille 2, unaware that the manager has updated his list of
things banned at the club to include People Who Look Like
Lucille Lostero. She does not take kindly to the cavity
George-Michael and Maeby's whereabouts are discovered. [Shot
of them pounding on the floor of the attic shouting while
Tobias dries his hair the night before in his bedroom.]
George-Michael: Somebody help!
Maeby: We're locked in!
And Ice gets his own one-man show off-Broadway performing
‘The Paraplegic Stripper - a tale with one part’.