So, this chick and
I are going at it
behind the Central Park Zoo.
The Bonobo chimps start
giving us a standing O,
and just when I'm about to
give her the same thing...
What up?... I...
I can't.
I just... I can't.
Guys, I know you count the
minutes until you can escape
from your humdrum lives by
hearing how awesome mine is,
and I love doing that for you,
but I just can't tonight.
- What's wrong?
- I don't want to talk about it.
Okay. Hey, you guys see
Deadliest Catch last night?
Did I ever!
Deadliest Catch ever!
All right, I'll tell you!
My mother is selling
the house I grew up in.
All of my childhood memories
gone, just like that!
That sucks.
I've been there, buddy.
What are you talking about?
Your mother still lives in
the house you grew up in.
With her new hippie
husband, Clint.
The comfort of home is
a little ruined
when someone turns
your old room
into what I'm pretty sure is
a Tantric sex temple.
With all the bamboo,
pot smoke and '60s music,
it's like my old G.I. Joes
are frozen in
some weird
Vietnam flashback.
Anyway, I need you guys
to come out
to Staten Island on Saturday
and help box everything up.
You expect us
to spend a whole day
packing up your
mom's house?
Of course not.
It's a two-day job.
Pass.
Same.
Unsubscribe.
You guys are adorable.
You seriously believe
that I, Barney Stinson,
can't talk you into this?
I got the Queen
to give me a fist bump.
No one believes
that story.
You may be able to talk
the brain surgeons
you pick up into doing
whatever you want,
but it's not gonna work on us.
How did he do that?
Sync by fant0m
www.addic7ed.com
<i>So there we were helping
Barney pack up his childhood home.
Whoa, Ted, that thing
you're packing is
way too big to fit
in that box.
Yeah, that's what your mom said.
How dare you!
No, she actually said that.
Oh, dear, I thought I told you,
that's just not going
to fit in there.
Someone order something tall,
dark and awesome?
- James!
- Bro!
- How you doing?
- Hey!
- Oh, my goodness!
- Mama.
Look at my two sons.
So big and strong
and handsome.
Mom.
Stop.
And how is my delicious
little grandson?
Oh, did he get
the clothes I sent him?
Check it. Huh?
How cute is
that, right?
When was the last time
you saw a diaper poking out
of a Dolce and Gabana suit?
Tuesday at work.
Some of the senior partners
are really getting up there.
So, Ted,
yesterday at work,
I totally talked you up
to that super-hot
makeup girl, Liz.
Oh yeah? Mm-hmm. What did you say?
Oh, you know,
how funny you are...
Guilty.
Handsome.
Who, me?
Incredible lover.
Really?
Oh, yeah.
Oh, yeah. I was all like,
"He knows a woman's body better
than she knows her own,
"endless waves of pleasure
just cresting and breaking
for hours and hours..."
Blah, blah, blah.
"Orgasms so intense
that you just black out."
All that stuff.
Robin, how can I possibly live
up to that review?
What? You know what
you're doing down there.
Oh, Teddy Westside can bring it.
We know this.
But that is not the point.
I mean, you broke
the first rule
of setting people up:
undersell.
<i>It's like, if someone's
never seen The Karate Kid,
you don't say,
"It's the greatest movie ever."
You say, "Uh, it's pretty good""
And then they see it,
it blows their freakin' mind.
Because Cobra Kai sensei's
all like, "Sweep the leg!"
And Daniel-san's all like...
Maybe I did oversell you a bit.
Thank you guys so much for
helping us out with this stuff.
Oh, it gives us
a rare insight into the
makings of Barney Stinson.
Like, look at this.
Who was a cute
little basketball player
before he became the biggest
pervert in the world?
I loved Pee Wee basketball.
Well, until they
kicked me off the team...
<i>I was so awesome,
<i>the coach asked me to quit
<i>because it wasn't fair
to the other kids.
That sounds plausible.
Hey. It's true.
Tell him, James.
Oh, yeah, he had, like, a
four-foot vertical leap.
He would hit it
from the outside,
hit it from
the inside...
He sucked.
Coach cut him from the team,
and Mom fed him that story
so he'd feel better.
Oh, my God!
Look at this.
My letter from
the Postmaster General.
I still can't believe
he took the time
to write this...
"Dear Barney..."
I sincerely apologize
about losing all the invitations
you sent out to your
eighth birthday party.
That's why none of your
classmates showed up.
Not because you threw up
when they turned the lights off
at the Planetarium.
No one even noticed that.
Also, Janey Masterson's
mother is a whore,
and with gin on her breath
at 10:00 in the morning,
she's got some nerve kicking us
out of the carpool.
Love,
Postmaster General.
Thank you.
Does your mom make stuff
like that up a lot?
Constantly. I mean,
she put more effort
into some lies than others.
Mom? Who's my dad?
All the other kids at school
know who their dad is.
Who's mine?
Oh, I don't know...
That guy.
Did she tell you that Bob
Barker was your dad, too?
No. No, no.
I heard Flip Wilson,
Bill Cosby, James Earl Jones,
Meadowlark Lemon...
The list goes on.
I still can't get a straight
answer about who my real dad is.
And Barney's no help.
He still believes every lie
that my mom told us growing up.
Not me.
I caught on early.
Careful!
Michael Jackson sent me
this glove for my tenth...
Damn.
Loretta really lied
a lot to her kids.
Well, she's not alone.
Whenever Marshall
was acting too hyper,
his mom would suddenly decide
he was "sick"
and give him cough medicine
until he passed out.
I'm pretty sure
that's what
stunted my growth.
I hit 6'4" in the fifth grade,
and then I just stopped.
And then there's
the most popular
parental lie in history.
Santa.
Yeah, but that's
a good lie.
Like when we tell Ted he'll meet
the right girl and settle down.
I always find
that reassuring.
You will meet
her, buddy.
You think so?
Yeah!
Santa's still a lie, and
I'm not lying to our kids.
Baby, it's Santa.
Don't you want our
kids going to sleep
on Christmas Eve with their
hearts full of hope,
their heads full of crazy
cough syrup nightmares,
knowing that downstairs
Kris Kringle is stuffing their
stockings full of joy
and stuffing his
belly full of milk
and lutefisk that they left him?
Milk and lutefisk?
Santa doesn't get cookies
in Minnesota?
Yeah, that's just what Santa
needs at 3:00 a.m.
when he's battling a snowstorm
over the Rockies:
a sugar crash. No.
Santa needs protein.
I'm not lying to our kids.
Valentines.
The second base
of third grade.
I always got a Valentine from
every single girl in my class.
Funny how all these girls have
the exact same handwriting
as the Postmaster
General, Mom, and...
home run king,
Frank Aaron.
Yeah, school girls...
The more they ignore you,
pretend to hate your guts,
lock you in the coatroom
over winter break,
the more they
secretly like you.
This isn't...
Who's Sam Gibbs?
No idea. Why?
Mom addressed this
and never sent it.
What's in it?
It's a picture of you and me
when we were little kids.
On the back, Mom wrote...
"Your son."
Okay, everyone,
lunch is ready.
Who wants Sloppy Joes?
Mom, who's Sam Gibbs?
That doesn't sound familiar.
Who wants Sloppy Joes?
There's a picture
of me and Barney
in an envelope
addressed to him.
And you wrote "your
son" on the back.
Oh, no, that...
It says "Yourson."
For Yourson,
North Dakota.
That's where we took the
picture. Lovely town.
We went kayaking, and you two
rescued the mayor's dog
which had wandered
into the rapids.
That mayor, Sam Gibbs,
asked for your
picture so the city
could make statues
of you both.
I guess I never sent it.
That's embarrassing.
Now, how about
those Sloppy Joes?
If this picture was
taken in North Dakota,
then why is our old swing
set in the background?
I don't know!
I did my best
as a single parent,
and it wasn't always easy,
and I'd recommend
putting the coleslaw
right on top of the Sloppy Joe,
because it's delicious that way!
Can you believe her?
I know.
Forgetting to
send the photo.
That poor sculptor had
to work from memory.
Those statues probably
look nothing like us.
Damn it, Mom!
So, Ted?
You were worried
that I oversold you
to Liz. Well, I fixed it.
How?
I sent her another email.
"Dear Liz. I hope
it didn't sound
"like I was trying
to oversell Ted.
"The truth is, he is a genuinely
nice, down to earth guy,
and I think you two
would really hit it off."
Thank you. Thank you.
That's perfect.
That totally takes
the pressure...
"Is he going to rock
your world in bed? No.
"But he's clean,
"open to criticism, and not
into anything too weird.
"He's not bad at all.
Not bad at all."
See, now you went too
far in the other...
"I'll be honest.
The first few times
"aren't going
to be that great.
"He's going to say
'Are you finished?'
more times than a waiter
in a busy restaurant."
Stop!
Listen to me. There is no
Yourson, North Dakota.
Mom... And Sam Gibbs wasn't the mayor.
He might be one
of our fathers.
Well, he's not my dad.
My dad's Bob Barker.
Barney! You...
You've got to stop living
in these fairy tales
that Mom told us!
Bob Barker is not your father.
Sam Gibbs might be,
but Bob Barker is absolutely,
unequivocally not your father.
I suppose you have a problem
with the Easter Bunny, too.
Not now.
This address
isn't too far.
Are you coming
with me, or not?
<i>So we're doing this?
We're really going
to go disturb
the peaceful
Long Island retirement
of the former mayor
of Yourson, North Dakota
on a Sunday afternoon?
Real classy, James.
Real classy.
You're just too scared
to face the truth.
You're living in
a dream world.
Maybe we shouldn't have
brought these Sloppy Joes.
Oh, what's done
is done.
"Ted Mosby is
solid as a rock."
No. "Dependable."
No.
"Rugged." No.
Why don't I just go
to the Chevy Web site
and copy down adjectives?
I just want to hit that
perfect middle ground.
How about we just go
wildly to both extremes
and just let them balance
each other out?
"Ted Mosby is really handsome,
but extremely violent,
"and really rich,
but lacks bladder control."
Oh, damn.
What?
That last bump
just made me hit send.
Oh, no.
Don't worry.
I'm sure that everyone
will get it's a joke.
No, they won't.
They're going to think...
Wait. "Everyone"?
"Really rich"?
You ready for this?
For what?
I don't know who lives here,
but it's not my dad.
Wait. Wait.
Please, stop.
Just... just give me
a second, okay?
I thought you said that he... Stop.
Come on.
I know Bob Barker's
not really... you know.
I'm not crazy.
I just...
I needed that.
I know it
may sound stupid,
but I didn't always feel so
great about myself growing up,
and so having a celebrity
dad made me feel special.
But you're right, James.
It's time to let go
of the fantasies.
It's time to grow up.
Come here.
Can I help you?
Yeah...
you're Sam Gibbs.
Yes.
I'm James Stinson,
and, I think
you may have known my
mother, Loretta Stinson...
in the '70s.
Loretta!
Yeah.
Yeah, I... I knew Loretta.
My mother meant
to send you this.
You're my son.
God, this must be
so hard for Barney.
Yeah, but you know what?
He took a big
step today...
Papa!
Look at us!
It's like three
of the same guy.
Oh, my God,
this explains
why I was always so
awesome at basketball.
Guys, I'm black!
Sorry. African-American.
No. I'm allowed
to say either.
I got to go get my camera!
That is my younger brother,
Barney.
He just thought he'd meet
his real dad today,
and clearly, he's not
taking it so well.
Oh, my head's
kind of spinning, too.
I mean, Loretta and
I only saw each other
for a couple of months.
You were two before
I even knew you existed,
and at that point,
your mother made it very clear
she was going to
raise you on her own.
I felt I had to
respect her wishes, but
I always wanted to meet you.
Wait!
Barney and James
are two years apart.
If Sam only knew Loretta
for a few months,
he couldn't possibly
be Barney's father.
He's also quite
the detective.
Don't worry.
We'll...
We'll snap Barney
out of this when he gets back.
Or, we could just
let him have
this one.
What? Are you kidding?
Guys, Barney's losing
his childhood home,
he finally admitted
Bob Barker's not his dad,
and then he watched James
meet his real father.
It's just a lot to go
through in one afternoon.
Can't we just let the
guy be black for a day?
Here, Ted.
Capture the moment!
I think you'd need Salvador Dali
to capture
this particular moment,
but I'll give it a whirl.
Man...
I thought
I was a light-skinned Caucasian,
but in truth, I'm a really
light-skinned African-American.
Man,
try to hail a cab
in Manhattan.
Am I right?
Nope, no one's stopping
for this.
These guys don't understand
what I'm talking about.
<i>During that afternoon,
Sam and James began to discover
<i>how much they had in common.
* When the night has come *
* Oh, and the land is dark *
Come on. You know this. Come on.
* And the moon is the
only * * The moon *
* Light we see *
* Light we see *
* Light we'll see *
* Light we'll see *
* Oh, I won't *
* Oh, I won't *
* No, I wo-oh-on't *
* Be afraid *
* Be afraid *
* Hey! Ho *
* I won't shed a tear *
* No, I won't shed no tear *
* Not as long *
* Not as long *
* As you stand *
* As you stand *
* Stand by me *
* Stand by me *
There you go. Come on.
* Whenever you're in trouble,
won't you stand *
* Stand by me *
* Stand by me, stand by me *
* Won't you stand? *
* Won't you stand now?
Won't you stand now? Hey! *
* Stand... *
* Stand... *
- Weird day.
- Weird day.
Hey, look at that!
Liz still wants to meet you.
That's great!
I guess.
Wait a minute.
You said Liz was a total ten.
Why would she want to meet
the incontinent freak
show you described?
You oversold her!
Maybe a little.
You said she was a ten.
I did not specify on what scale.
You said she looked
like a movie star.
She does.
It's Robert De Niro,
but, like, super buff,
like in Cape Fear.
Dad, look how fast
I can run!
He's actually
a really sweet guy,
and he's great
with my son.
I have a grandson?
His name's Eli.
He's beautiful.
Dad, you're not
looking!
<i>Eventually,
<i>the strangest afternoon
of our lives wound to a close,
<i>and we headed back
to Staten Island,
<i>where Barney and his mom had
a long overdue heart-to-heart.
Barney?
I need to talk to you.
Me first.
Mom,
there's something
that I need to ask you,
and I... I want you
to be honest with me.
Why do white people
like Carrot Top?
Listen...
I always wanted
to be enough for you boys.
I think that's why
it always hurt
whenever you asked
about your dads,
because I was always
trying so hard
to be both parents for you.
But I was being selfish.
You deserve the truth.
So here it is.
Sam is not your father.
Are you sure?
Yes.
He's black, dear.
But if you want, I can tell you
who your father really is.
<i>And at that moment,
<i>Barney suddenly saw
his childhood
<i>more clearly
than he ever had before.
I'm sorry, but your son
can't be on the team.
He's terrible.
What'd Coach say, Ma?
He said you're simply too
good to be on the team.
It's not fair
to the other boys.
But that's okay.
We can just play together
in the backyard.
Why didn't anyone come?
Oh, you know what, dear?
Apparently, there was a
mix-up with the mail.
I just got this letter from
the Postmaster General.
"Dear Barney,
I sincerely apologize
"for losing all the invitations
you sent out to your
eighth birthday party."
Barney.
It's okay, Mom.
I don't need it.
But it's your father.
I already have a father.
And his name...
is Loretta.
<i>Kids, your uncle Barney
grew up without a dad.
<i>And it always made
him feel incomplete.
<i>But as he hugged Loretta,
<i>so around by the boxes into
his happy childhood,
<i>he realized he had
one hell of a mom.
* If the sky *
* If the sky *
* We look upon *
* Mmm... *
* Should tumble and fall *
* Should tumble and fall *
* Or the mountains
should crumble *
* To the sea,
to the sea... *
Wait. Dad! James!
Where are you going?
That's the best part.
Can we go camping?
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