Categories > Cartoons > American Dad
When Jeff, Hayley, Steve, Roger and Klaus are away, Francine will play! Stan tries to stop her but fails.
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Noticed something lately. Is it me or does it seem nobody really does American Dad fanfics anymore on this site? So I came up with one!
American Dad
fanfic title:
Slumber Party Protocol.
By: Hailey Sands
Chapter One:
One morning in the Smith Family Household Kitchen. Jeff sips coffee as the rest of the family eats breakfast. A packet sits in front of him labeled: “DreamTech Sleep Trials – Participant Packet.”
Jeff (cheerfully) Okay, guys, this could be life-changing. DreamTech is paying me to nap in a facility for a week! Total isolation, sleep monitors, lucid dream testing—I'm living the dream!
Stan (flatly) You’re literally going to get paid to drool on a pillow while guys in lab coats watch? Do you expect it to be like Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind?
Jeff (excitedly) Yes! And if I complete the week, they’ll pay me two grand and give me a DreamTech Deluxe Pillow. It senses REM cycles!
Francine (raising a brow) What happens while you’re gone, Jeff? Hayley's off camping with Roger and Klaus. Steve is at day camp with his friends. That means I’m unsupervised.
Stan (suspicious) Unsupervised? You know what happens when Francine’s left unattended. Remember 2008? The motorcycle gang? The tiki bar in our garage?
Francine (smiling then looking up) That was one time. Besides, maybe I’ve matured. Maybe I’ll just do yoga. Or bake.
Stan (mutters) Bake a meth-laced bundt cake with share it with those biker girls from Faster Pussycat Kill Kill!
Jeff: I earned this you guys. For being such a good son in law! I know I'm the only one capable of stopping Mrs S from going wild.
Francine: Go do your thing you planned Jeff. We won't need you this time.
Stan (leaving for work and mumbling): Even I can't control the disaster that is Super Happy Fun Time Party Girl Francine Smith! I'd rather party with Parker Posey....
At work in the CIA Lobby. Stan walks briskly, flipping through Francine’s past indiscretions on a tablet—highlight reels of chaos.
Stan (V.O.) I can’t let history repeat itself. If Jeff leaves, it’s only a matter of time before Francine becomes... a party hurricane.
Chapter Two:
That very night. Jeff loads his duffel into an Uber. Stan watches from the window like a hawk. Francine waves sweetly.
Francine (calling out) Bye Jeff! Have fun with your science nap!
Jeff (grinning) Be good, you two!
The Uber Jeff is in drives off. The moment the car disappears...
Francine (calling into the house) Alexa, cue the playlist: “Francine’s Freedom Frenzy!”
Disco lights activate. Stan gasps.
Stan So it begins... Studio 54 in our own living room!
Francine emerges in an 80s neon workout suit. She sips from a ridiculous martini glass taller than her head.
Stan (stepping forward) I’m putting my foot down. No wild antics. Jeff trusted us—er, you.
Francine (innocent) Stan, honey... I'm just stretching. Check me out! I'm Jane Fonda! (turns to Alexa) Alexa, add “champagne cannon” to the shopping list.
Stan: You don’t fool me! You’re like a blonde Gremlin—don’t feed you freedom after sundown.
Chapter Three:
Stan is frantically boarding up windows, fortifying the house with CIA-grade surveillance gear while Francine lounges in leopard-print loungewear, surrounded by open party catalogs.
Francine (sipping wine through a silly straw) Relax, Stan. I’m just browsing themes! What do you think of “Disco Inferno meets Jungle Safari”?
Stan (pacing) That’s exactly the problem. You’re in the pre-party storm. I know you, Francine. First it’s themes, then inflatable gorillas, then we’re on a federal watchlist.
Francine (teasing) You make it sound like I’m planning a coup d’état. I’m just celebrating a little freedom. A tiny... taste.
A corkboard with multi-colored string connects ideas: “Petting zoo?”, “Champagne fountain,” “Fire juggler?” Meanwhile, Stan spies from an air vent like he’s in a Cold War thriller.
Stan (to himself) She’s making a list. Checking it twice. Gonna wreck the house with goats and lights…This reminds me of Bridge Of Spies....
At the Dreamtech Facility. Jeff lies asleep in a sci-fi pod surrounded by humming machines. A monitor labeled “Lucid REM Sync” flickers. He twitches, entering a dream world. Jeff sees himself in an outer space nightclub. He floats in zero gravity with a disco ball sun, dancing jellyfish, and a humanoid toaster offering nachos.
Jeff (amazed) This is incredible... I can feel every beat. But... wait. Something’s off...
A rumble echoes in the dream. Jeff turns to see flashes of neon, the faint sound of a conga line, and Francine’s voice yelling “WHOO!”
Jeff (V.O.) (sleepily concerned) Francine? What’s she doing in my subconscious?
Back at the Smith House. Stan awakens to a faint rumble. He rushes downstairs to find Francine in a silk robe, overseeing deliveries: bubble machines, dance floors, and a DJ in a box.
Stan (shouting) Francine! No! You’re building a Pleasure Island for neighborhood moms! Didn't Pinnochio teach you anything?!?!?!?
Francine (smiling) Correction: a “Moms Gone Mildly Unhinged” brunch gala.
Stan (grabbing her phone) Not happening. I’m confiscating your socials, your credit cards, and—what’s this? A bounce house receipt?!
Francine (defiant) Oh no you don't! You are NOT going to ruin this for me! ... you can't stop joy. You can only delay it.
A mysterious party bus cruises slowly down the street. Fog rolls from its underside. Inside, Francine’s friends text excitedly. Now in the panic room. Reviewing the satellite surveillance. Stan taps into doorbell cams, seeing high heels and bedazzled cardigans arriving at their house.
Stan (grabbing a tranquilizer gun) The moms are mobilizing...(gulps) Here I go......
Chapter Four:
Pulsing lights. Disco music. A chocolate fondue hot tub. Francine leads a choreographed dance with suburban moms wearing rhinestone jumpsuits. Prinicipal Lewis was there too in the background dancing naked with a lawn flamingo.
Francine (screaming over music) EVERYBODY LAYERS—IT’S FONDUE TIME!
Stan (elbowing his way through the crowd) I swear I just saw Principal Lewis and a live flamingo. WHAT IS THIS??
Francine (grabbing Stan) Relax! You need this! Let the mild chaos soothe you. Have a bacon-stuffed churro. Or a turn on the glitter slip n’ slide!
Stan (pulling her aside) Francine, this is a sensory assault. Jeff’s gone one day and you’ve turned the house into Saturday Night Fever meets Chuck E. Cheese.
At the Dreamtech Facility. Jeff floats in a psychedelic sky, reality unraveling into streaks of color. A translucent Francine dances by, laughing maniacally.
Jeff (to himself) Her energy… it’s crossing the veil. She’s throwing a rager without me!
A spectral flamingo skates by. Who talks like Prinicipal Lewis in gibberish.
Jeff (determined) I have to get back. I don’t know how—but I’ve watched enough anime to know if I believe hard enough, I can dream-walk home.
Later into the night. The garage has been transformed. A DJ hypes the crowd.
DJ And now... everyone's favorite hostess: Francine "The Firecracker" Smith!
Crowd cheers. Stan sneaks behind the DJ booth, rewiring cables with a CIA multi-tool.
Stan (muttering) Neutralize the sound system, redirect the fog machine to the panic room, deploy the sprinkler drones—time to rain on her freedom parade.
Suddenly, the power shorts. The house plunges into darkness. Gasps. Then—
Jeff (V.O.) (distorted, echoing) Fraaaanciiine…
Francine (freaked out) Stan, did you install a ghost?
Stan (staring upward) That’s… not one of mine. Uhhh, it's one of those "dead people" from The Sixth Sense!
A swirling blue light appears. Jeff materializes midair like a glowing astral projection.
Jeff (in spiritual form) Hey! Listen! Attention Mrs S! I felt your energy in the dreamstream. This party is a 12 out of 10… but I also feel like a birthday clown exploded inside a Crate & Barrel.
Francine (teary-eyed) Jeff, I miss you! And you’re right. I got a little… intoxicated by freedom. What with you, the kids, Roger and Klaus being gone. And also… three pitchers of glitter sangria.
Jeff (smiling warmly) Save some chaos for when I get home, okay?
The Projection of Jeff flickers.
Jeff I gotta go before the dream-mice start chewing on my toes again. Please never go wild like this again!
The projection of Jeff vanishes. The lights flicker back on. The music resets. Everyone applauds, thinking it was part of the show.
Chapter Five:
The next morning. There was nothing but Post-party wreckage. Stan sits in the midst of half-deflated pool toys. Francine walks in wearing sunglasses and an ice pack on her forehead.
Francine (gravelly voice) I cancelled the llama yoga. You win.
Stan (sighs) I didn’t want to win, Francine. I just didn’t want to end up on an CIA watchlist... again.
Francine (sincerely) Thanks for saving me from myself. But admit it—you liked the glitter churros.
Stan (firmly) They were revolutionary.
At the Dreamtech Facility, Jeff wakes up in his pod, groggy.
Jeff (stretching) Whoa. I think I learned astral projection. Also, I think we need a new carpet.
The door creaks open. Hayley enters first, slinging a duffel bag over her shoulder. Steve follows, holding a bug jar from science camp. Roger stumbles in with a sunburn and an “I Survived a Casino Boat” t-shirt. Klaus is in a travel bowl strapped into Steve’s backpack.
Hayley (coughing) Why does it smell like... burnt marshmallows and regret?
Steve (wrinkles nose) And... is that a disco ball in the chimney?
They look around. The house looks like the aftermath of a glitter tornado. One inflatable flamingo hangs from the ceiling fan. With Prinicipal Lewis hanging onto it then flying away out of the window. Stan lies on the couch, twitching in his sleep.
Roger (squinting) I leave for 48 hours and it’s Roll Bounce meets Mad Max in here.
Francine enters, wearing sunglasses and holding a bucket labeled “Confiscated Party Items.”
Francine (flatly) Don’t ask. It involved astral projection, a glitter cannon, and possibly a llama. I’m still piecing it together.
Klaus (from the bowl) Did you at least save me a mimosa?
Francine (drops the bucket) You’ll drink it when you help clean.
Hayley (smirking) Mom went rogue again, didn’t she?
Francine (shrugging, then grinning) Rogue-ish. More like... festive with consequences.
Eyeing the fondue fountain. Roger picks up a half-melted fondue fountain and begins licking it absentmindedly.
Roger That’s definitely not chocolate.
Steve (disgusted) We were gone for two days.
Francine (arms wide) And what a two days it was. Now who wants to help me vacuum feathers out of the air ducts?
They all groan in unison as the camera pans over the chaos, zooming in on a blinking neon sign that reads: “Francine’s Freedom Frenzy – Never Again (Probably).”
Chapter Six:
During an end credits stinger. Jeff sits in a floating lawn chair, sipping juice next to a dream version of Roger in a tiki shirt made of cotton candy.
Jeff You think they’re okay back home?
Dream-Roger (real chill) Oh yeah. What could possibly go wrong?
A flamingo floats by on fire.
Jeff (sips) Cool, cool, cool...
Voiceover: Next Time On American Dad:
Roger (in a sparkling cape) Don’t scream, but I sold your identities to an interstellar soap opera for funding. You’re now starring in The Passion Nebula… and Haley’s engaged to a lunar goat prince. Congratulations!
Stan I swear, if this is another one of your “immersive simulations,” I’m putting a boot through your moonset.
Francine (in full space gown) Actually, I kind of like it here. There’s no gravity and even less accountability
Meanwhile, Jeff attempts to lucid-dream-drive an alien escape pod, Steve accidentally becomes prom queen on a hostile asteroid, and Klaus discovers an alarming truth about intergalactic seafood...
Steve Wait… I’m what now?
Klaus You are now Queen Steve of Omega High. Also—don’t eat the sushi. It’s sentient.
One family. Too many plotlines. And one goat prince whose love knows no orbital boundaries.
Coming soon... “Moonlight, Madness, and Mimosas”
The End
American Dad
fanfic title:
Slumber Party Protocol.
By: Hailey Sands
Chapter One:
One morning in the Smith Family Household Kitchen. Jeff sips coffee as the rest of the family eats breakfast. A packet sits in front of him labeled: “DreamTech Sleep Trials – Participant Packet.”
Jeff (cheerfully) Okay, guys, this could be life-changing. DreamTech is paying me to nap in a facility for a week! Total isolation, sleep monitors, lucid dream testing—I'm living the dream!
Stan (flatly) You’re literally going to get paid to drool on a pillow while guys in lab coats watch? Do you expect it to be like Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind?
Jeff (excitedly) Yes! And if I complete the week, they’ll pay me two grand and give me a DreamTech Deluxe Pillow. It senses REM cycles!
Francine (raising a brow) What happens while you’re gone, Jeff? Hayley's off camping with Roger and Klaus. Steve is at day camp with his friends. That means I’m unsupervised.
Stan (suspicious) Unsupervised? You know what happens when Francine’s left unattended. Remember 2008? The motorcycle gang? The tiki bar in our garage?
Francine (smiling then looking up) That was one time. Besides, maybe I’ve matured. Maybe I’ll just do yoga. Or bake.
Stan (mutters) Bake a meth-laced bundt cake with share it with those biker girls from Faster Pussycat Kill Kill!
Jeff: I earned this you guys. For being such a good son in law! I know I'm the only one capable of stopping Mrs S from going wild.
Francine: Go do your thing you planned Jeff. We won't need you this time.
Stan (leaving for work and mumbling): Even I can't control the disaster that is Super Happy Fun Time Party Girl Francine Smith! I'd rather party with Parker Posey....
At work in the CIA Lobby. Stan walks briskly, flipping through Francine’s past indiscretions on a tablet—highlight reels of chaos.
Stan (V.O.) I can’t let history repeat itself. If Jeff leaves, it’s only a matter of time before Francine becomes... a party hurricane.
Chapter Two:
That very night. Jeff loads his duffel into an Uber. Stan watches from the window like a hawk. Francine waves sweetly.
Francine (calling out) Bye Jeff! Have fun with your science nap!
Jeff (grinning) Be good, you two!
The Uber Jeff is in drives off. The moment the car disappears...
Francine (calling into the house) Alexa, cue the playlist: “Francine’s Freedom Frenzy!”
Disco lights activate. Stan gasps.
Stan So it begins... Studio 54 in our own living room!
Francine emerges in an 80s neon workout suit. She sips from a ridiculous martini glass taller than her head.
Stan (stepping forward) I’m putting my foot down. No wild antics. Jeff trusted us—er, you.
Francine (innocent) Stan, honey... I'm just stretching. Check me out! I'm Jane Fonda! (turns to Alexa) Alexa, add “champagne cannon” to the shopping list.
Stan: You don’t fool me! You’re like a blonde Gremlin—don’t feed you freedom after sundown.
Chapter Three:
Stan is frantically boarding up windows, fortifying the house with CIA-grade surveillance gear while Francine lounges in leopard-print loungewear, surrounded by open party catalogs.
Francine (sipping wine through a silly straw) Relax, Stan. I’m just browsing themes! What do you think of “Disco Inferno meets Jungle Safari”?
Stan (pacing) That’s exactly the problem. You’re in the pre-party storm. I know you, Francine. First it’s themes, then inflatable gorillas, then we’re on a federal watchlist.
Francine (teasing) You make it sound like I’m planning a coup d’état. I’m just celebrating a little freedom. A tiny... taste.
A corkboard with multi-colored string connects ideas: “Petting zoo?”, “Champagne fountain,” “Fire juggler?” Meanwhile, Stan spies from an air vent like he’s in a Cold War thriller.
Stan (to himself) She’s making a list. Checking it twice. Gonna wreck the house with goats and lights…This reminds me of Bridge Of Spies....
At the Dreamtech Facility. Jeff lies asleep in a sci-fi pod surrounded by humming machines. A monitor labeled “Lucid REM Sync” flickers. He twitches, entering a dream world. Jeff sees himself in an outer space nightclub. He floats in zero gravity with a disco ball sun, dancing jellyfish, and a humanoid toaster offering nachos.
Jeff (amazed) This is incredible... I can feel every beat. But... wait. Something’s off...
A rumble echoes in the dream. Jeff turns to see flashes of neon, the faint sound of a conga line, and Francine’s voice yelling “WHOO!”
Jeff (V.O.) (sleepily concerned) Francine? What’s she doing in my subconscious?
Back at the Smith House. Stan awakens to a faint rumble. He rushes downstairs to find Francine in a silk robe, overseeing deliveries: bubble machines, dance floors, and a DJ in a box.
Stan (shouting) Francine! No! You’re building a Pleasure Island for neighborhood moms! Didn't Pinnochio teach you anything?!?!?!?
Francine (smiling) Correction: a “Moms Gone Mildly Unhinged” brunch gala.
Stan (grabbing her phone) Not happening. I’m confiscating your socials, your credit cards, and—what’s this? A bounce house receipt?!
Francine (defiant) Oh no you don't! You are NOT going to ruin this for me! ... you can't stop joy. You can only delay it.
A mysterious party bus cruises slowly down the street. Fog rolls from its underside. Inside, Francine’s friends text excitedly. Now in the panic room. Reviewing the satellite surveillance. Stan taps into doorbell cams, seeing high heels and bedazzled cardigans arriving at their house.
Stan (grabbing a tranquilizer gun) The moms are mobilizing...(gulps) Here I go......
Chapter Four:
Pulsing lights. Disco music. A chocolate fondue hot tub. Francine leads a choreographed dance with suburban moms wearing rhinestone jumpsuits. Prinicipal Lewis was there too in the background dancing naked with a lawn flamingo.
Francine (screaming over music) EVERYBODY LAYERS—IT’S FONDUE TIME!
Stan (elbowing his way through the crowd) I swear I just saw Principal Lewis and a live flamingo. WHAT IS THIS??
Francine (grabbing Stan) Relax! You need this! Let the mild chaos soothe you. Have a bacon-stuffed churro. Or a turn on the glitter slip n’ slide!
Stan (pulling her aside) Francine, this is a sensory assault. Jeff’s gone one day and you’ve turned the house into Saturday Night Fever meets Chuck E. Cheese.
At the Dreamtech Facility. Jeff floats in a psychedelic sky, reality unraveling into streaks of color. A translucent Francine dances by, laughing maniacally.
Jeff (to himself) Her energy… it’s crossing the veil. She’s throwing a rager without me!
A spectral flamingo skates by. Who talks like Prinicipal Lewis in gibberish.
Jeff (determined) I have to get back. I don’t know how—but I’ve watched enough anime to know if I believe hard enough, I can dream-walk home.
Later into the night. The garage has been transformed. A DJ hypes the crowd.
DJ And now... everyone's favorite hostess: Francine "The Firecracker" Smith!
Crowd cheers. Stan sneaks behind the DJ booth, rewiring cables with a CIA multi-tool.
Stan (muttering) Neutralize the sound system, redirect the fog machine to the panic room, deploy the sprinkler drones—time to rain on her freedom parade.
Suddenly, the power shorts. The house plunges into darkness. Gasps. Then—
Jeff (V.O.) (distorted, echoing) Fraaaanciiine…
Francine (freaked out) Stan, did you install a ghost?
Stan (staring upward) That’s… not one of mine. Uhhh, it's one of those "dead people" from The Sixth Sense!
A swirling blue light appears. Jeff materializes midair like a glowing astral projection.
Jeff (in spiritual form) Hey! Listen! Attention Mrs S! I felt your energy in the dreamstream. This party is a 12 out of 10… but I also feel like a birthday clown exploded inside a Crate & Barrel.
Francine (teary-eyed) Jeff, I miss you! And you’re right. I got a little… intoxicated by freedom. What with you, the kids, Roger and Klaus being gone. And also… three pitchers of glitter sangria.
Jeff (smiling warmly) Save some chaos for when I get home, okay?
The Projection of Jeff flickers.
Jeff I gotta go before the dream-mice start chewing on my toes again. Please never go wild like this again!
The projection of Jeff vanishes. The lights flicker back on. The music resets. Everyone applauds, thinking it was part of the show.
Chapter Five:
The next morning. There was nothing but Post-party wreckage. Stan sits in the midst of half-deflated pool toys. Francine walks in wearing sunglasses and an ice pack on her forehead.
Francine (gravelly voice) I cancelled the llama yoga. You win.
Stan (sighs) I didn’t want to win, Francine. I just didn’t want to end up on an CIA watchlist... again.
Francine (sincerely) Thanks for saving me from myself. But admit it—you liked the glitter churros.
Stan (firmly) They were revolutionary.
At the Dreamtech Facility, Jeff wakes up in his pod, groggy.
Jeff (stretching) Whoa. I think I learned astral projection. Also, I think we need a new carpet.
The door creaks open. Hayley enters first, slinging a duffel bag over her shoulder. Steve follows, holding a bug jar from science camp. Roger stumbles in with a sunburn and an “I Survived a Casino Boat” t-shirt. Klaus is in a travel bowl strapped into Steve’s backpack.
Hayley (coughing) Why does it smell like... burnt marshmallows and regret?
Steve (wrinkles nose) And... is that a disco ball in the chimney?
They look around. The house looks like the aftermath of a glitter tornado. One inflatable flamingo hangs from the ceiling fan. With Prinicipal Lewis hanging onto it then flying away out of the window. Stan lies on the couch, twitching in his sleep.
Roger (squinting) I leave for 48 hours and it’s Roll Bounce meets Mad Max in here.
Francine enters, wearing sunglasses and holding a bucket labeled “Confiscated Party Items.”
Francine (flatly) Don’t ask. It involved astral projection, a glitter cannon, and possibly a llama. I’m still piecing it together.
Klaus (from the bowl) Did you at least save me a mimosa?
Francine (drops the bucket) You’ll drink it when you help clean.
Hayley (smirking) Mom went rogue again, didn’t she?
Francine (shrugging, then grinning) Rogue-ish. More like... festive with consequences.
Eyeing the fondue fountain. Roger picks up a half-melted fondue fountain and begins licking it absentmindedly.
Roger That’s definitely not chocolate.
Steve (disgusted) We were gone for two days.
Francine (arms wide) And what a two days it was. Now who wants to help me vacuum feathers out of the air ducts?
They all groan in unison as the camera pans over the chaos, zooming in on a blinking neon sign that reads: “Francine’s Freedom Frenzy – Never Again (Probably).”
Chapter Six:
During an end credits stinger. Jeff sits in a floating lawn chair, sipping juice next to a dream version of Roger in a tiki shirt made of cotton candy.
Jeff You think they’re okay back home?
Dream-Roger (real chill) Oh yeah. What could possibly go wrong?
A flamingo floats by on fire.
Jeff (sips) Cool, cool, cool...
Voiceover: Next Time On American Dad:
Roger (in a sparkling cape) Don’t scream, but I sold your identities to an interstellar soap opera for funding. You’re now starring in The Passion Nebula… and Haley’s engaged to a lunar goat prince. Congratulations!
Stan I swear, if this is another one of your “immersive simulations,” I’m putting a boot through your moonset.
Francine (in full space gown) Actually, I kind of like it here. There’s no gravity and even less accountability
Meanwhile, Jeff attempts to lucid-dream-drive an alien escape pod, Steve accidentally becomes prom queen on a hostile asteroid, and Klaus discovers an alarming truth about intergalactic seafood...
Steve Wait… I’m what now?
Klaus You are now Queen Steve of Omega High. Also—don’t eat the sushi. It’s sentient.
One family. Too many plotlines. And one goat prince whose love knows no orbital boundaries.
Coming soon... “Moonlight, Madness, and Mimosas”
The End
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