Married with Children1987

[Lower Uncton, England, the year of 1653:
Al's great-great-grandfather, Seamus McBundy, is working in his blacksmith's shop, making a horseshoe. Old fat witch enters]

Poxilda:
Seamus McBundy, are ye done with me horse?

Seamus McBundy:
Ah, no, ma'am. I had to send out for extra parts, to reinforce its feet. Yeah, that and a sign to go around his neck saying, "I'm with Fatso".

[the witch gapes, angry and offended]

Poxilda:
You save your tongue for picking the flies off the pools that dance beneath your arms! Go to, I'm in an 'urry.

Seamus McBundy:
Oh? Is it the Festival of Pork Pies and Pigs' Waller you're late for? While you're waiting, I got a plump pony out back you can snack on.

Poxilda:
You be warned! I am a great and powerful witch!

Seamus McBundy:
Ah, not as powerful as yon mighty seams in yon dress, to keep yon belly off yon floor!

Poxilda:
That's it!

[the witch turns her back to Seamus while talking. Behind her back, Seamus makes funny faces]

Poxilda:
I curse thee, Seamus McBundy, and all thy male descendants. Henceforth, ye shall only shoe the large and ungrateful.

Seamus McBundy:
[sarcastically] Ooh, yikes! Saveth me!

Poxilda:
And so that ye and all thy male descendants will be hated in this place forever, Lower Uncton shall always be in darkness, though other towns nearby stand in sun.

Seamus McBundy:
[unimpressed] Eh? Will ye be floating above us, blocking the sun?

Poxilda:
Just for that, throughout eternity your feet will sweat. Aye, and verily smell!

[the witch leaves, cackling nastily. Seamus is not worried]

Seamus McBundy:
Eh... how could yon "Blubber Belly" curse me?

[Seamus makes a gesture of throwing an object]

Seamus McBundy:
I hurled the unspooning stone in the big game. Had I not married, I wouldst have turned pro.

[suddenly, it becomes dark all over the place although it is still midday. The witch's voice is heard:
]

Poxilda:
And so it begins! Ha-ha-ha!

Seamus McBundy:
Hmmm... early to be this dark.

[Seamus returns to work. The scene changes to Chicago, the year of 1992:
Al sits in the shoe store, his head buried in his hands]

Al Bundy:
[muses whiningly] This can't be my life. What am I, cursed?