01. The Meeting

Michael was in the middle of a meeting with some very important clients. It was the meeting of a lifetime and he couldn't afford any screw-ups. It's also why he had the door to the conference room locked.

"Now if you take a look at page three, it clearly explains what we'd like to do with the land you have offered us."

"This all looks wonderful, Mr. Bluth. But I have to ask, why are you conducting this meeting? Where is the president?"

"I am the president."

He wasn't.

The clients looked a little skeptical, so Michael took their attention away from that minor setback. "Anyway, do we have the affirmative? Can we move ahead with the plan?"

The men seated at the table took a moment to converse with each other and then turned back to Michael. "We are very pleased with the proposal and would be happy to sell you the land."

Michael beamed. "Yes, thank you!"

Just then the door banged open, sending a framed picture on the wall to the floor, the glass shattering. Gob stood in the door, furious. "Michael!"

"Um, hello, Gob. Is there something I can help you with?" He tried to keep his cool, tried not to lose it in front of these very important clients, but it was tough when Gob created a fireball out of his sleeve.

"Michael, why are you having this meeting without me? I'm the president of this company."

"No, Gob, you're not."

Gob ignored him and turned to the clients, pointing at the door. "Out! Get out now!" he shouted. "We don't want your land!"

"Gob!" The clients stood and left the room, glaring at Michael as they passed. "No, please don't leave!"

"Michael, you did not get my permission to have this meeting."

"That's because I knew you would screw it up, just as you have! They were very important clients, probably the most important we've ever had! And now they're gone." He sat down heavily in the chair at the head of the table. "Ugh, I wish you weren't my brother..." Michael muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Gob left the room silently, not wanting to upset Michael any more than he already was.

02. The Girl

Michael was taking a much needed break from work, and - not enjoying the whole club scene - decided to go to a modest bar with fair lighting and kind waitresses. He was seated at the bar, nursing his second beer when a beautiful woman took the stool next to him. She smiled at him and he returned the gesture.

"My name is Jessica," she said, holding out her hand daintily. He took it and shook it lightly.

"Michael," he replied. He released her hand and he waved at the bar lamely. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'd like that very much, Michael."

They sat at the bar and drank for a while, talking and getting to know one another. She was not from around there, as she had not heard much about the Bluth company's troubles, much to Michael's relief.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she asked later, jerking her head in the general direction of the front door.

He grinned. "I'll call a cab."

They were standing on the curb waiting for their ride when Gob rode up on his segway, his grin predatory. "Well, well, well, Michael. Who's this?"

"Gob, please, not tonight."

"Is this your latest conquest?" He leered at Jessica.

"Conquest? Is that what I am to you?" She smacked Michael's arm with her clutch, and walked swiftly away down the sidewalk.

"Jessica, no! That's not what this is!"

"Screw you, Michael!" she shouted, not looking back.

Michael turned to his brother, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can't leave very well alone, can you? You have to fuck everything up for me."

Gob shrugged.

"Go home, Gob." His cab pulled up to the curb seconds later, and he climbed in. He cursed his brother's existence the entire way back to the model home.

03. The Son

"Hey, dad."

"Oh, hey, George-Michael. You headed to the Banana Stand for the day?"

"Actually, I was thinking of going to the beach today with Maeby; it's her birthday tomorrow, but I wanted to do something with her today."

Michael was torn; he didn't want to tell his son he couldn't spend time with his cousin, but he needed George-Michael down at the Banana Stand. This weekend was one of the busiest of the summer. "You're Mr. Manager now, bud. You need to be at the Banana Stand to make sure things are being run smoothly."

"But dad-"

"Now I don't want to hear any 'buts'. I want you there. I'll come by around lunchtime to check in on you." He picked up his bag from the counter and ruffled his son's hair as he passed. "See you later."

George-Michael watched as his father left for the office, slumped down on the couch in the living room. Gob walked in then, looking for Michael. "Oh, hi, Uncle Gob. Dad went to the office already."

"Damn. I need to find that sledgehammer he's hiding in the attic..." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then noticed his nephew's sad demeanor. "What's wrong, George-Michael?"

"Dad won't let me go to the beach with Maeby for her birthday today. He says he needs me at the Banana Stand all day."

Gob was only half paying attention. "So go to the beach. There's no way he could tell if you were there or not."

"He said he was going to come check in on me at lunchtime."

The oldest Bluth son turned to his nephew, suddenly serious. "I won't tell him if you don't."

"But how will that-"

"Don't ask questions. Just go."

George-Michael didn't want to argue any further, so he went upstairs and grabbed his bathing suit, leaving the model home to visit Maeby at the beach.

Michael stayed true to his word and went to visit his son on his lunch break, only to find out that George-Michael was not at the Banana Stand. He found him sitting at a table not far away, though, with Maeby. "George-Michael! Why aren't you working?"

"Dad! Uh, Uncle Gob said it was okay to take the day off."

"Did he? Well, let me tell you something, George-Michael. Gob is your uncle, not your father; there's a reason you shouldn't listen to him." He readied his bicycle to go back to the office, muttering under his breath, "I'm going to kill your uncle..."

04. The Bills

Michael was in a hurry to get to work and had totally forgotten about the power bill that needed to be mailed out today; however, he didn't have the time to go to the post office before going into work. And everyone had already left for the day. He sighed heavily until Gob walked through the door. Lately his older brother had been on his last nerve, but he hoped that Gob could handle the simple task of taking a check to the post office.

"Gob, I'm glad you're here."

"What do you need now, Michael?"

"Who said I needed anything?"

Gob gave him a look.

"You're right, I do need something." He handed his brother the letter. "Can you take this to the post office for me? It's the power bill and it needs to be mailed out today. Think you can handle it?"

Gob scoffed. "Michael, please. Have a little faith."

Michael didn't want to bring up the incident with the insurance check, in which Gob had tried to throw it into the ocean. "Yeah, well, just get it done, please. It's very important."

He then left for the office, putting his full trust into his brother and this simple task.

But when Michael returned home that evening, it was to find out that the power was not on. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying not to go crazy. Gob entered the model home a few minutes later, and when he saw Michael, he tried to bolt.

"Gob! What happened today? Why didn't you take the check to the post office?"

"I did, Michael, just as you told me."

"But the power is out, Gob. What happened?"

"The check kinda caught on fire."

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. "'Kinda?'"

"I was trying to impress some girls with my magic, Michael! I had the perfect illusion set up, and then some old lady in a wheelchair ran into me and made me mess it up." He narrowed his eyes in remembrance of the offending woman. "My flints sparked and the letter caught on fire."

"Do you know how long it's going to take the get the power turned back on, Gob? Maybe you'd like to pay the bill next time."

"Don't be silly, Michael. I don't have a job."

"I've noticed." He sighed and sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar. "Gob, you need to leave."

"But Michael, I-"

"Now, please."

"Okay..." Gob hung his head as he left the house.

Michael was reduced to talking to himself in the dark now. "Oh, I wish he had never been born..."

05. The Kiss

Michael was alone at the model home. George-Michael had gone to the Banana Stand and Lindsay and Tobias had taken Maeby somewhere for her birthday. Now Michael only hoped he didn't have any visitors; it had been a while since he's had the house to himself, and he was planning on enjoying the quiet solitude.

That hope didn't last long, though, as Gob burst into the house with an armful of objects for his magic show the next day.

"Gob, what are you doing here?" Michael asked, watching, annoyed, as Gob showered the floor with flower petals.

"I needed somewhere to put this stuff. Mom won't let me keep it at the penthouse with her; she says Buster will get hurt."

"That's probably a good idea, but why did you bring it here? What's wrong with keeping this stuff on the yacht?"

"Please, Michael, that yacht isn't big enough to fit half of this stuff." He then pulled in his giant cage, leaving it in the foyer.

"Gob, don't leave that there. Someone might get hurt."

Gob didn't listen and instead walked over to where Michael was sitting on the couch. "Michael, all you ever say anymore is 'Gob, don't do this. Gob, don't do that.' I think you've forgotten I'm the oldest Michael. What have you got against me?"

Michael sighed. "Nothing, Gob. It's just that nobody else is taking control in this family, and it's time that someone did. If it has to be me, fine. We can't just have everyone running rampant around town without some sense of decorum."

Gob sunk onto the couch next to his younger brother. "Michael, you are in control. That's why I respect you so much."

"Then why don't you act like you respect me? You make me look like a fool in front of everyone, including my own son. So what is it, Gob?"

Seeing his brother so unsure of himself made something in Gob snap; he leaned forward and placed his lips on his brother's softly, applying the slightest bit of pressure. He pulled back after a moment, not breaking eye contact with Michael. "I do respect you, Michael, but sometimes it's hard for me to not screw up around you. But you're my brother, and I'll never wish otherwise."

And as their lips met again, Michael once again wished that he wasn't related to this train-wreck of a man, but was secretly thankful that he was.