Michael: Hey, actually, I have already signed up for the father-son triathlon.
George Michael: Oh, okay, great, yeah, I did want to do that with you.
Michael: I mean, I've already promised Steve Holt. I thought he was older, and more manly.
George Michael: You don't think I'm manly?
Michael: No, no, it's just, uh... Darn that Annabelle, she ruins everything.

Narrator: But the next morning, Michael awoke to discover every muscle in his body was exacting revenge.
Michael: Oil.
Narrator: And so was his brother, Gob.
Michael: Hey, does anyone know why my handlebars are in my bed?!

Narrator: And Michael, now feeling a little woozy, arrived to see the triathlon course, which consisted of several tricycles, five inflatable pools...
Michael: What the hell is this?
Narrator: ...and fathers and sons being manacled together.
Steve Holt: Don't let it psyche you out. Did that Oxy-Incontinent set in yet?
Michael: You knew this is what the race was?
Steve Holt: Kind of. I mean, they change it every year, so you can't replicate it on your lawn, but...

Narrator: And, after the pageant, George Michael went to congratulate Ann.
George Michael: Well, congratulations on coming in third. That's amazing. And I heard you're the first camel act to ever crack the top ten, too, so that's like a record. And I'm a bit relieved, because, um... I was... I thought maybe if you came in first you would have outgrown me.
Ann: Outgrown you. That is the term I've been looking for.
Narrator: It seems Gob was right about what happens to third-place contestants.
Ann: I met a man.
Narrator: George Michael was devastated. It seemed he'd lost his girl and his father because he wasn't man enough. And he was faced with a choice.

Rita: Was that your son?
Michael: Yes, Rita, yeah. Most important person in the world to me.
Rita: You really are quite a man, Michael.
Michael: Do you really think so?
Rita: Oh, yes. You're a complete and utter [bleep].
Narrator: I can't believe we had to bleep that. It would have been such a nice moment.