DREW: This house has been run down since the ’70s. We’re hoping we can help it get its groove back!
JONATHAN: That’s right. We’re going to give this fixer-upper a big boost of curb appeal.
GEORG: Why do you avert your eyes? Can you tell that I am nude beneath my velvet cloak?
JONATHAN: I think we should redo the roof first.
DREW: No way, I’m all about bringing these floors back to their glory days.
GEORG: Have you ever eaten tiger prawns on the burnished gold sands of Tahiti’s shores? It is true: I, Georg Property, have long known such carnal delights.
JONATHAN: The driveway is—
GEORG (sadly): We are the only species that dips the bodies of our fallen prey in butter. We are a species of lonely gods.
JONATHAN: This kitchen is so dated!
DREW: I think the last person to cook in here might have been Julia Child.
(Laughter)
GEORG: To love a woman… to make love to a woman… there is only one language for it.
[Seven minutes of uninterrupted French.]
JONATHAN: Janine and Doug… introducing… your new kitchen!
DREW: We’ve got stainless-steel appliances, a brand-new granite countertop, and even… a walk-in pantry!
JANINE: Why is the dog passed out on the floor of the pantry?
GEORG: Madame, he took too many poppers.
JANINE: Why did you give my dog poppers?
GEORG (profoundly weary): Madame, he is gay.
GEORG: In my dreams, I use the stars to guide me back to the heaving bosom of my lover, Mathilde, who once showed me how to achieve orgasm by stimulating my prostate with a piano key.
ZOOEY DESCHANEL: I dread coming to family reunions because of you.
GEORG (screaming at a Roomba): Madame, halt! Return to your den of pestilence! Torment me no further with your infinite curves!
DREW: Look at the foundation of this house—it needs some serious work.
JONATHAN: Fine, I’ll call Bev and Kevin.
GEORG (frantically running in the background, shoving dirt in his pockets): Dirt! What the conquistadors themselves called brown gold! And it’s mine—all mine!
BEV: I guess what I’m looking for is—
GEORG: What are any of us looking for?
BEV: Oh. I don’t know, love? Comfort?
GEORG (unfolding treasure map): Hardly. We seek the porcelain eye of Blind Tom, the most fearsome pirate to ever sail the Gulf Coast. He promised it to us after a night of unforgettable passion. (To Roomba passing by) Tempt me not with your ideal body, flattened orb!
DREW: Have you ever… oh, there he goes.
[GEORG, completely nude, climbs the roof of the house and performs a survey of the neighboring region with a large gold spyglass.]
JONATHAN: Do you regret promising our mother on her deathbed that we would look after him?
DREW: Jonathan, yes, every day.
JONATHAN: Me too.
GEORG (calling from the roof): Be gone, unmarried women! Be gone!
BEV: We love the new home theater.
KEVIN: Totally.
BEV: And the girls’ bedroom looks—
KEVIN: Amazing.
BEV: Amazing.
KEVIN: There’s just one thing…
DREW: Is it the primary bedroom?
BEV: Yes.
JONATHAN: You don’t love that it—
BEV: Looks exactly like an opium den from 1871?
DREW: We could have sworn you said you were looking for that in your opening interview.
GEORG (smoking opium in their bed): Cast this event from the velvet swaths of your mind! Ere tomorrow I shall add even more paisley! And women—draped over the furniture like scarves! Diaphanous women! Friends for your homosexual dog! Ah, what a decadent buffet life is!
ZOOEY DESCHANEL: What’s your fucking deal? Are you French?
GEORG (smirking): I am Georg Property.
ZOOEY DESCHANEL: Why isn’t your last name Scott, like my husband’s?
GEORG (shaking head, whispering intensely): Liberté. Égalité. Properté.
DREW: Bringing Georg into the family business has been challenging.
JONATHAN: True, but at least at the end of the day, we all sleep in one big bed together, with our wives sleeping in dog beds at the foot of our bed.
DREW: Yes, that is Property Brothers canon.
GEORG (running behind them waving a sword): Avast, Lady Roomba! I do not know if when I capture you, I shall give you a kiss or stab your sinner’s bod with yon blade!