I do not own this awesome show or its characters, but this is my form of homage to the genius writers. No copyright infringement is intended.

I am going to attempt to replicate some of Arrested Development's zany faux documentary style, but it's probably going to be a bumpy ride as I get the hang of the flashbacks. Please correct me if I make any continuity errors. The narrator, if you don't know, is Ron Howard, and I'm also going to keep the bleeped out words, just like in the show, because I think they're funny.

Passages in italics have been changed since the first version of the story.

Narrator, over the credits: Now the story of a wealthy family who lost everything, and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together. It's Arrested Development.

Narrator: Michael Bluth was finally coming home from the hospital...

Lindsay and George Michael both helped Michael get out of the back of George Sr.'s car. Michael had a cast on his right leg, and he was still getting accustomed to using his crutches.

Narrator: ...after a series of botched surgeries performed by this man...

A closeup photo of Dr. Stein, which pulls out to reveal a newspaper article with the title, "Dr. Frank Stein's license revoked for monstrous creations."

Narrator: ...and a car accident with his son.

Clip of George Michael driving the car straight into Michael.

Still feeling guilty, George Michael hung his head and muttered softly, "I'm so sorry, Dad. So sorry..."

"That's all right, son. It wasn't your fault. It was your Aunt Lindsay's for teaching you how to drive." Michael cast a glance at her.

Lindsay replied, "Ha ha. You're just jealous that you didn't get to teach him yourself, in your uptight, overbearing way. You have a real problem with control, Michael, and that's why you have an ulcer."

Narrator: After fixing Dr. Stein's blunders, Dr. Fishman was finally able to give Michael a correct diagnosis.

Clip of Michael lying in a hospital bed, while Dr. Fishman tells him, "It seems that the original cause of your symptoms was an ulcer in your stomach. Tell me, do you have a lot of stress in your life?"

Pull back to reveal a bunch of FBI agents around the bed, waiting to question Michael about the leaked video.

George Michael protested, "Well, Dad was trying to let go of some control by letting me drive home. It's just that I-I didn't know how to handle a normal car after learning on the stair car."

Lindsay nodded. "Yeah I hate that thing. But you know, neither of you would have even been out there if Michael didn't insist on leaving the hospital because he thought that the Bluth company would collapse without him."

"Yeah," Michael admitted with a sigh. He tried not to let the guilt bother him too much, though, because of his ulcer.

They all walked to the porch together, and Michael shrugged off any assistance in going up the steps. He still wanted to appear in control, and didn't even like depending on his crutches. Soon they entered the front door, and Michael also insisted on going down the foyer steps by himself.

A couple of Chinese screens were set up in the dining room, to preserve the surprise behind them, while the living room was decorated with get well balloons and a banner that read "Welcome home, Michael." (It was clearly patched together from the old "You're killing me, Buster" banner.)

As Michael entered the living room, the rest of family greeted him with warm exclamations of "Welcome home!" and "Michael!"

Michael smiled politely and answered, "Thank you. I never thought I'd be so glad to come home."

GOB was standing on his Segway, which had a ribbon on it now, and he tried to ride the Segway nearer, but he got caught on the carpet and also had to maneuver around everyone, who wouldn't make way for him.

Maeby gave Michael a friendly hug. "Hi, Uncle Mike. Are you feeling better now?"

"Well, yes, I--"

"Master Bluth! You're home!" Mrs. Featherbottom popped out of the dining room late and gave an exaggerated, awkward curtsy.

Maeby sighed and rolled her eyes, while Michael glanced at Lindsay critically for letting Tobias's charade continue, just because she wanted a housekeeper to do the chores she was too lazy to do. "Uh, hello, Mrs. Fu--Fe--" He couldn't remember the name now. "Mrs. F. You're still working here?"

"Yes, and may I say what a great relief it is to have you back, sir! Not stuck in hospital or an FBI interrogation room--"

"Oh, shut up!" Lucille irritably shooed Mrs. Featherbottom away. "No one's paying you to chatter, now get back into the kitchen and cook dinner!" She gave Michael a kiss on the cheek, then sipped her drink and remarked, "Good help is so hard to find."

Before Michael could comment, he was caught off guard by GOB, who finally jumped off his Segway and hugged him warmly.

"Michael!"

"Oh! GOB." Nearly tipping over on his crutches, Michael regained his balance, then tolerantly patted his brother on the back. "Uh, good--good to see you too."

Clinging too long, GOB kissed and nuzzled his face like a slobbery dog.

"Um, GOB..." Michael prodded him with a crutch and pushed until he let go.

GOB said excitedly, "Hey, I have a present for you--"

"Oh, that's nice. I'll open it later."

"No, but Michael--" he gestured to his Segway, but Michael had already hurried away on his crutches.

GOB pouted.

Michael decided to sit on the couch, so he lowered himself down and leaned his crutches nearby. He smiled and waved across the room. "Hi Buster!"

"Hey, brother!" Buster waved his hook back at Michael, but inadvertently caught on the banner, ripping it down. He giggled nervously. "Sorry."

"It's okay, buddy," Michael said. "Uh, can somebody help--?"

Oscar came over first and patted Buster's shoulder paternally. "Don't worry. We'll patch it, good as new, and put it back up." He helped get the banner off Buster's hook, while George Michael joined them.

As Michael relaxed on the couch with Lindsay and Maeby, he looked up at a vent toward his father, hoping that he felt guilty for all the trouble he caused.

In the attic, George Sr. saw Michael's glare and said defensively, "Hey, it wasn't my fault! That video was just for the company employees!"

Clip of George Sr. in a turban-like towel saying "This is my demand!" while Michael walks into the frame.

Flashback to the scene at the hospital, where an FBI agent asks Michael, "So if you were never in Iraq, then how did you get into this video with your father? It was timecoded the same day you went to the hospital. Where is that attic?"

"Um, well there are a lot of Bluth houses that look like that."

The agent warns him, "It's a crime to obstruct a federal investigation, Mr. Bluth. You could be in serious trouble if you're withholding the whereabouts of your father."

While Michael ponders whether to turn his father in, he gets an idea. "I-I didn't--That's not my father in the video. That's my uncle Oscar. Yeah, he's dad's identical twin. See, uh, he's wearing that towel on his head so that you can't see his long hair. He was just, um, goofing around in the family attic with Dad's old glasses and a video camera when I walked in on him the other day. Then, um, I think that my brother-in-law Tobias must have found the tape and thought it was a real message from my father, so he showed it to the Bluth company employees. This is all a big misunderstanding."

Narrator: Luckily, the FBI believed Michael's story and didn't detain him.

George Sr. watched the welcome home party enviously, muttering, "Come on, Tobias! You're supposed to sneak some food up to me! I'm starving." Then he caught a glimpse of Oscar. "Look at him, the hippie bastard! Sleeping with my wife, and partying with my family, and taking my place! Why, I oughta lure him up here and knock that grin off his face!"

Narrator: As George Sr. tried to come up with a plan, GOB tried to give Michael his present again.

GOB rode over to the couch and explained, "Michael, look, I-I brought you my Segway. I'm giving this to you until you get your cast off; now you can get around without those crutches."

Michael blinked and now noticed the ribbon on the Segway. "Oh, that's for me?"

"Yeah." GOB took off the ribbon and showed that he had changed the 'president' lettering to say 'present'. "Come on, get on and I'll teach you how to drive it."

"Oh, uh, that's a nice thought, GOB, but why don't you keep it? With my medication I'm not really supposed to be operating any heavy machinery."

"Oh."

"Thanks anyway." Michael didn't actually consider the Segway to be heavy machinery, but he did think it was rather silly-looking and unprofessional. It probably wouldn't be efficient for taking any long rides into the city, either. He asked Lindsay, "So, uh, have we figured out who's going to drive me to work tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Michael, you shouldn't go back to work so soon! You should just stay home and rest for a while."

"But I ought to at least check in on the employees and show them that I'm all right."

"Mom already told them at a board meeting how you were, and that you'd come back in a couple of weeks. It's about time that you took a vacation."

"A vacation? No, I can't afford to be away for so long. We've got those 18 houses to build and--"

Lucille said, "And they're building them now. Everything's fine, dear, and they can hold it together for a couple of weeks. I put Ted in charge because he's the one who had the idea to move the offices down a floor."

Lindsay added, "Yes, the world goes on even if you're not running things, Michael. You've really gotta learn to take it easy, with your ulcer."

"But two weeks!"

George Michael said, "Please, Dad! You gotta take care of yourself." He looked rather vulnerable for a moment. "I was so scared when you were in the hospital, having so many operations... I thought you might never leave."

Michael finally realized how upset and worried George Michael had been, despite putting on a brave face. Maybe he had even been reminded of his mother Tracy's long hospital stay before she died. "I'm sorry." Michael hugged him. "All right, I'll stay home for you. But maybe we can set up a teleconferencing thing from here so I can see them at the office. Then I won't worry so much."

"Fine," Lindsay said. "If it'll help you to stop being paranoid. But it has to be a real vacation."

"Yeah."

After putting the Segway in a corner, GOB came back and sat down. "You'll get better soon, Michael. You got the good doctor now. Yeah, that guy fixed me too." GOB held up his two fingers, to show that they were reattached normally, after Buster sliced them off with a sword.

Michael shrugged and agreed, "Yeah, that guy's not so bad, as long as you don't immediately believe everything he says."

Narrator: Dr. Fishman had a habit of speaking too literally.

Clips of Dr. Fishman saying, "We lost him" (George Sr.), "it looks like he's dead" (Tobias), and "He's lost his left hand, so he's going to be all right" (Buster).

Narrator: But at least he was better than Dr. Stein.

Clip of Dr. Stein saying, "But once I got in there, the appendix wasn't so inflamed. D'oh."

GOB wiggled his fingers and rambled on, "I'm even getting some feeling back in them lately, so I'll be able to do my magic again soon."

Michael frowned and shook his head, "No please! No magic at this party, GOB. I'm not in the mood for a trick."

GOB pouted, and decided that it wasn't worth it to correct Michael that he performed illusions, not tricks. He hadn't been planning an illusion anyway, because he needed to regain more dexterity in his fingers.

Mrs. Featherbottom announced, "Dinner is served!"

"Oh, good!" They all got up and went to the dining room, opening one of the Chinese screens to reveal the surprise.

George Michael told his dad, "We made a special dinner just for you."

"Oh really? Is it my favorite--?" Then he stopped in front of the table, and his face dropped when he saw the array of mostly white, steamed and baked foods.

George Michael explained, "It's everything on the list your doctor gave us."

"But it's so bland. I mean Ann. I mean, Egg--eggs everywhere." There were various preparations of eggs in some of the dishes.

"Yes, but we made sure to watch out for the cholesterol. No butter, no salt, no pepper, no spices--"

"No flavor," he groaned.

Lindsay reminded him, "You have an ulcer, Michael! You shouldn't eat anything that could irritate your stomach."

"I know! But I should be okay if I just take my medication and some antacids."

"Michael, you know it's more serious than that!"

"But come on, I was stuck in that hospital for over a week eating horrible food, or getting an IV drip. I want some real food now. Even a cornball or Bluth banana or something!"

Lucille said, "Michael, you're just being a big baby. We have to eat all this food with you."

"But you can add butter, pepper, salt, and spices!" He pointed to the condiments at the far end of the table from his chair.

Oscar said, "Hey, relax!" and started giving Michael a shoulder massage. He shrugged it off and said, "Stop it!"

"Dad!" George Michael couldn't understand his father acting so childishly. "At least sit down and try it. We did this for you."

He sighed and apologized. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. Maybe my pain pills are wearing off."

George Michael helped his father sit down and put his crutches aside, while Lindsay went to check Michael's prescriptions.