07x20 - The Return of the Formica King

[bunniefuu]

Growing up, my dad made all sorts of sounds.

There was the grunt...

...the grumble, the mumble...

- ...the "Ah!"...

- Ah!

...and, of course, the "Bup, bup, bup!" - Bup, bup, bup!

- But it was his groan - that really told the story.

- Oh!

It was the sound he made before, during, - and after work.

- Ah.

It was clear to anyone within earshot he didn't enjoy his job.

Allow me to translate.

Toast?

This groan meant, "Every day's the same." Have a good day, honey.

And this one meant, "Not gonna happen." He does not have the wind at his back.

I hope I never have to work for real.

But my dad did, at his furniture store, the Ottoman Empire, every day for the last 20 years.

Good morning, sunshine.

I bought you a Boston cream, extra cream.

Meaning, "I've already had four." And after a long day of sitting, selling furniture, and hanging with Vic, it was closing time.

Have a blessed evening, Mur.

That one was just a groan.

Yep, for my dad, work wasn't the best.

At least he joyfully returned home to his family.

Home.

Nobody bother me.

We're all on the same page, sweetie, so go relax.

- The TV's all yours.

- Damn right.

And the final groan could only mean one thing...

"At least I have you, TV." ♪ I'm twisted up inside ♪ ♪ But nonetheless, I feel the need to say ♪ ♪ I don't know the future ♪ ♪ But the past keeps getting clearer every day ♪ It was April 15th, 1980-something and, for us drama kids, the pinnacle of our otherwise boring year.

This year's spring musical will be...

nothing.

So, then, an actual play?

Finally, a gritty role I can sink my teeth into.

Like maybe a working-class galoot who came back from the w*r with one less finger and a head full of horrors.

His name is Jimbo, but people call him Tree.

Again, no one's calling this guy anything, because it's not a play.

We're doing nothing.

But the cast wrap party is historically where Schernecke shines romantically.

Get your pity smooches elsewhere, Matt Schernecke.

We're doing bupkis because the licensing fees went up.

Balls!

The musical is the one time where theater geeks get light-to-moderate fame in this school.

Football players would nod at me.

I was a shape they recognized.

A cheerleader said, "Oh, it's you," right to my face.

Like we shared the same world!

What are we gonna do?

Nothing, unless anybody has any fully fledged material lying in a drawer at home.

I got some stuff in a drawer at home that makes me fully fledged.

- Out!

- Way ahead of ya.

- Actually, I have a musical.

- Do tell.

It's called "The Play Ground," and it's a meditation on what it means to play.

Adam made me read it.

It's about a flower who wants to get planted on the other side of a playground.

It's okay.

Okay?!

It might be the best thing a 12-year-old's ever written.

It just needs a finale.

Sounds amateurish and unfinished, but it's all we got.

I'm humbled to share my creative vision with you.

Relax, Tennessee Williams.

Just shove it in your backpack tonight.

I had no idea you had a musical in you.

Yep.

"The Play Ground" is an originally penned piece by me and Erica.

Your older sister who left for college and barely acknowledges your existence?

The very one.

And the minute I tell her we're putting this production on, she's gonna be psyched to dive back in.

God, no!

But it's a chance to see our work up there in lights!

You have a marquee?

There's a bulletin board with pins.

It's the same.

I had fun writing that with you like five years ago, but I'm busy with my studies and my boyfriend and not wanting to do it at all.

Yoo-hoo.

Geoffy's home.

Oh, my, a guest?

Erica, you didn't say anything about company.

I'm so sorry.

This is not how it normally looks.

Geoff, stop.

You do not have to clean up for him.

He was just leaving.

So soon?

A-At least stay for a beverage.

We have Tab and sink water.

You've tempted me.

I'm gonna park myself right here and make a night of it.

No!

I have things to do.

Like finish a musical with your baby brother?

Wow.

You guys are a regular Rodgers and Hammerstein, except you're siblings and children and...

Hey, look, a whole song about slides!

It's called "The Play Ground," and it's set in a playground.

It makes you think.

It almost does.

A duet about monkey bars?

I can't wait.

Well, you're gonna have to, because it's not happening.

Unless you take my hand and come with me to complete our theatrical destiny.

Ohh!

Ow!

Ow!

Ow!

Ow!

Stop by anytime.

You're always welcome in our home.

No, he's not.

And stop offering my Tabs to people.

While my sister was kicking me out, my dad was kicking back at the office, until this guy moseyed in...

Formica Mike, the Formica King, my dad's local furniture-shop rival.

He was gaudy, tacky, and my dad couldn't stand him.

Hello, Murray Goldberg.

- What do you want?

- It's not what I want.

It's what I'm offering...

an invitation to break bread.

I'll break a stale loaf over your head.

Vic, come on.

I'm sorry, but I will not fall victim to this man's shenanigans.

Have you seen his commercials?

I can't trust a man who dresses like a mattress.

Oh, you saw my spots?

Listen, does it look weird when that couple's lying on top of me?

No.

Narratively, it worked fine.

I'm responding to the costume.

What are we talking about here?

We're talking about you, me, and our wives having dinner together.

What do you say?

I say I've never wanted to do anything less.

Then I don't have any choice but to purchase these two chairs.

Our sitting chairs?!

Fine.

If it makes this end, I'll have dinner with you, but I'm eating quick.

Is there any other way?

We're going to Le Bec-Fin.

It's French.

Holy moly!

It's also considered the best restaurant in America.

d*ck Cavett ate there.

Well, so are we, this Saturday night.

Tell your wife.

She'll have heard of it.

I doubt it.

Le Bec [bleep] Fin?!

Ohh!

What are you so excited about?

I thought you hated Formica Mike and his Formica wife.

I do.

They're snooty garbage that rub their obscene wealth in our faces.

But Le Bec-Fin?!

Oh!

They pour you that little bit of wine for you to taste, and you taste it and you go, "Mmm," but you don't know.

Aren't you at least curious as to why these people want to take us out to dinner?

Nope.

Le Bec-Fin!

Oh!

I'm gonna buy a new dress, hat, and over-the-elbow opera gloves!

Opera gloves?

What's wrong with these sink gloves?

Damn it, Murray!

Le Bec-Fin!

I wish my mom were alive so I could show her I'd made it.

As my dad was grumbling about dinner companions, I was looking for a new musical partner.

So, what are we doing, again?

Erica ditched me, and I gotta finish a rousing musical that ties six story lines together and makes the audience weep by tomorrow.

Here's what I got so far.

Are those the opening bars to "You Can Call Me Al" by Paul Simon?

Gah!

I knew it sounded familiar!

What's this play about, again?

Well, in this scene, Phil the Flower learns his friends are the real soil in his life.

Maybe this will do the trick.

Can you make it sound more like a full orchestra?

I can kind of make a shimmer sound.

Balls!

Why would Erica screw me like this?

A handful of drama kids are counting on me.

I'll do it.

No one's asking you.

And what could you possibly bring to the table?

Oh, I bring everything to the table...

chairs, place mats, napkin rings, decorative centerpieces, candles, my elbows.

Stop naming things that go on a table!

I need music and lyrics.

Done and done.

I'll write you the greatest rap known to man, and you can waste it on your lazy high school play.

Pass!

I don't need you showing up out of nowhere, sucking on a treat, and insinuating yourself into my life!

You'll be back.

They all come back.

Except for all the ones who never come back.

You did the right thing.

Your brother is no friend to music.

Plus, there's nothing Erica would hate more than if I let him ruin our musical.

- Hold on!

- Don't say "Hold on." Nothing good ever happens when people in your family say "Hold on"!

If I let Barry ruin our musical, Erica will have to step in and fix it.

That's a huge leap, and it will most certainly backfire.

Not a chance, Dave Kim.

You can go.

And please take your piano guts with you.

Do you know how long it took to get this thing down the stairs?

You're not a good friend!

You're in!

Yes!

What are my parameters?

None.

Go wild.

- Buck wild?

- What's the difference?

You know what?

Surprise me.

Good decision.

You just became a millionaire.

I don't see how, but sure.

While I enlisted Barry's help, my mom and dad reported for dinner with the King and Queen.

Le Bec-Fin!

I can't believe we're here!

And in the back room?

Nothing but VIP, baby.

My Franny demands it.

That's enough out of you, Mikey.

Although I do love the privacy.

Who wants to sit with other people?

If you want to be more alone, I can make that happen.

Oh, Murray, stop it.

Le Bec-Fin!

That was gibberish the first 50 times you said it.

Is this place too good for a basket of bread?

No, but they do have this divine Melba toast.

Toast?

I put on pants to eat the one thing I could make at home?

You know what?

I'm with the big guy here.

Give me a hot cross bun, plate of salty butter.

That's living.

Say, Fran, I can't help but admire your beautiful necklace and earrings.

Are those emeralds?

Rarer.

Green diamonds.

See, I got this guy in the diamond district, a disgusting monster.

I'll hook you up.

Yep, nothing but the best from my Mikey.

You should see our Margate house.

You have a house down the shore?

Four houses in from the boardwalk.

Did you hear that, Murray?

Four houses in!

And I got a lead on a house two in from the boardwalk.

Meaning ours could be available soon.

Wink, wink.

She's winking at me.

We own a shore house now.

How did you get that from her having crap in her eye?

Oh, we're gonna spend every summer with our ungrateful children and then their children.

We are gonna anchor our family to the beautiful brown and gray shores of New Jersey.

That's how it works with our crappy kids.

Pure crap, but we love 'em.

Thanks for getting my wife all worked up, but I've already got one house I can't afford.

Well, maybe I can help you with that.

Murray, I would very much like to buy your furniture store.

You serious?

As serious as my heart issues.

Sometimes it beats fast, sometimes slow, sometimes not at all.

I can't believe we're gonna have a shore house!

And there's gonna be decorative starfish and, for some reason...

an oar above the door.

Yeah.

Take it easy, Blackbeard.

We don't even know what the man's offering.

Now...

you do.

Is that a period or a comma?

Comma, baby.

The punctuation of the wealthy.

Holy [bleep] starfish money!

We're rich!

We're gonna have everything monogrammed.

I don't like people knowing my initials.

I'm gonna have to mull it over.

You take your time.

You got till tomorrow.

Even though taking Formica Mike's buyout offer seemed like a no-brainer, our dad wasn't so sure.

I'm home!

I don't want to hear it!

Vic?

W-What are you doing here?

Beverly pulled me into your ugly domestic squabble.

Murray, you really need to consider Formica Mike's offer.

Al, you wanna weigh in?

It was your shop first.

You want your legacy stripped for parts?

For that kind of dough, strip away!

It's just furniture.

Who cares?

Agreed!

It's mostly wood.

It's not that special.

Look out the window.

It's everywhere...

tree, tree, little bush.

We could have all our friends to our shore house on July Fourth, and they would quietly speculate about how much the house cost.

Oh!

The envy would eat 'em alive.

I'd certainly be curious and resentful.

So, that's what this is about, you making your friends jealous?

And you can finally stop complaining about work.

I don't complain about work.

It's all you do!

It's your defining characteristic as a person!

Your negativity has pulled me down, too.

I've spoken to my pastor about it.

He'd like you to join us at our men's picnic.

Mur, come on.

Take the deal.

I'm not taking it until he apologizes.

Apologizes to you?

For what?

For big-timing me.

With his handsome and excessive offer?

Let him big-time you, Mur.

Who cares?

I care!

No deal.

Well, if all it takes is an apology to get me a family beach house that gives me generational control of my children, then so be it.

That seems misguided and selfish, but you do you.

How are you gonna get the Formica King to apologize for trying to give Murray a ton of money?

Easy.

I'm not going to him.

Beverly, I'm so glad you called.

Who was that woman who answered your phone?

My secretary.

You have a secretary?

For what?

To do all the things I don't want to, which is everything besides shopping and drinking wine.

My God, I want your life.

It's yours.

Just get your Murray to accept my Mikey's offer.

Well, this might sound crazy, but could you get Mike to give Murray just a teensy, itsy-bitsy apology?

Done.

I thought that would be harder.

Please.

Apologies are just words.

Words mean nothing.

Ah, that's how I feel!

As my mom and Fran struck a deal, I had a plan to make my sister sorry she turned me down.

Adam!

Please come in.

Welcome to our home.

Mwah!

Mwah!

Oh, boy, coming in hot.

And help yourself to some gourmet snacks or a variety of freshly squeezed juices.

Those are my juices!

And why are you here?

Just letting you know I found someone to help me finish the musical.

Oh, esteemed creative partner!

Barry?

And is that the chalkboard from our house?

We tied it to the bumper and drove it here.

It has little wheels.

Dried fruit or nuts?

I'm allergic to both, but let's do it.

What the hell is going on?

Welcome to the new and very improved "The Play Ground," - featuring Big Tasty!

- Mm!

Dummies, all the chalk came off.

Oh, stupid outside!

Then I'll summarize.

It's no longer about Phil the Flower.

He was weak and gave the wrong idea about the playground.

What's this idiot talking about?

This idiot is talking about injecting our musical with expl*sive, high-octane energy.

And it gets even more bonkers!

Tell her who the main character is.

A giant, ass-kicking Tootsie Roll named Clyde.

Why the hell would a fighting chocolate treat be on a playground?

He fell out of a kid's pocket.

Now he's gotta find his way back, with the help of Martin Riggs of Riggs and Murtaugh.

You put the "Lethal w*apon" guys in your musical?

Just Riggs.

He's an emotional time b*mb, and he's got three jaunty numbers.

This is clinically insane.

That's the Riggs character.

But don't worry.

He accidentally blows himself up in the second act.

There's v*olence on the playground?!

And tons of sex.

You know that big metal thing you spin?

Some randy teens do unspeakable things on it.

And the nudity is not tasteful.

But isn't this show for kids?

I don't know who it's for.

I just know it kicks ass.

Now tell 'em about the big finale.

Clyde the talking Tootsie defends the playground by destroying a robotic shark in a rap battle.

It's a real departure from the original...

and also reality.

Enough!

You clearly ruined it!

But I thought you didn't care about "The Play Ground" anymore.

Not until you completely ripped out its emotional appeal.

It's about the chutes and ladders of childhood, not shark robots.

Robotic sharks.

It's a small but important distinction.

I guess there's a solution...

you come back to finish what we started.

Damn it, fine!

Sweet!

Barry, you're fired.

You'll regret this.

I don't know how, and you're my ride, but this isn't over.

I'll be waiting downstairs.

See ya at the piano tomorrow.

Ta!

You think everyone had a nice time?

While my old musical duo was back in business, my mom had one last sh*t to get my dad to take Mike's deal.

I can't believe you dragged me to this dumb country club.

Dumb?

It's Ashborn.

I don't care where we are.

I don't want to be here.

When have you ever said no to a free buffet?

Plus, Formica Mike is gonna apologize for whatever minor indignity you suffered.

I'll believe that when I see it.

Is that a carving station?

You bet your tuchus.

Help yourself to some meaty delights.

How many slices can I get?

Take the whole damn tenderloin.

Jimbo, put the sweet beast onto his plate.

I told you this would work.

Pretty soon I'll be on the shore, under an umbrella, yelling at my grandkids not to play Frisbee with strangers.

That's the dream.

And when you're finished with that, head over to the dessert table, grab yourself a big chunk of Black Forest cake.

It's gonna ruin you for two days, but it's worth it.

Yep, despite my dad wanting nothing to do with country-club life, he did start to enjoy the perks.

You found the schvitz.

Thought you disappeared.

I have to admit, this is nice.

The nicest.

And all this can be yours, Murray.

Is that your apology?

No.

This is.

I deeply regret my action of offering you all that money.

Please accept my apology and all the money that I originally offered you.

In that moment, one "yes" from my dad would change our lives forever.

Instead, this happened.

Bevy, get the car.

We're going.

Where's your pants?!

Stuck in a locker.

I don't know the combination.

You didn't take the deal?

It's what you wanted!

No.

It's what you wanted.

I want to go to work every day.

What?

You hate going to work!

I know it seems like that, but I love my job.

But you're never not complaining about it.

Because I love complaining.

And I love filling up the cash register.

And I love the dumb customers.

And I love having lunch with Vic.

I love it.

I didn't know that.

Well, now you do.

There's my girl.

I got everything we need...

a piano, a kazoo, and the finest instrument there is, these sweet pipes.

Save it, Streisand.

Here ya go.

- Whazdis?

- The song you wanted.

But we haven't even written it yet.

I did.

Last night.

I figured it was easier that way.

It's not about easy.

It's about collaborating, coming together through the power of music.

Hit the bricks, Goldturds.

I signed out this room for band practice.

No, you didn't.

I did.

Oh.

It was worth a sh*t.

And we're gonna be here for a while because we're writing the grand finale to our musical together.

We're not.

Take the room.

- Cool beans.

- Not cool beans!

I don't want this.

What the hell, man?!

That took me 20 minutes!

Band drama.

Noice.

Been there.

I've been asked to leave over 243 bands.

Then maybe you two should jam.

In!

Our name is Butt Oven.

I'm lead vocals and guitar, and you carry everything.

I'm not joining Butt Oven!

I wanna write a song with my sister.

I see why you two didn't work out.

This one's a diva.

Good stuff.

So I'm gonna hit it.

Don't just go.

Please?

Dude, what is going on with you?

What's going on with you?

I haven't seen you all year.

I see you all the time.

When you're doing your laundry or try to pry money from Dad.

You went to college, and we became strangers.

So, what, this is your lame attempt to reconnect?

It was lame, but it was all I had.

And obviously it didn't work.

See you whenever.

After my sister rejected me and I rejected her song, the musical was stuck with the biggest reject of all...

Barry.

This was a good decision.

I guess, man.

Just do whatever.

Okay, dress is up.

I need my Tootsie Roll and my Shark-I-Tron!

It's always been a dream to work together.

What am I, again?

The fool I'm about to lyrically smoke.

Drop a b*at!

You know, I had my doubts, but I think that this might work.

♪ I'm a Tootsie Roll, my name is Clyde ♪ ♪ On the playground, I go down the slide ♪ ♪ I ride the swings and the seesaw ♪ ♪ With my main man Riggs, but not Murtaugh ♪ ♪ Something's comin' in the park ♪ ♪ It's a giant monster robot shark ♪ ♪ The kids all jump, the sharks att*ck ♪ ♪ Riggs jumps on my Tootsie back ♪ ♪ That's how I roll, Clyde the Tootsie ♪ ♪ Now all the fly ladies wanna play footsie ♪ ♪ Rest in peace, Martin Riggs!

♪ Why do I keep believing in children?

Good art is supposed to make you ask questions.

Here's one...

how could half the partnership from "Lethal w*apon" be friends with a piece of candy?

That's your problem with it?

That's nothing a way-too-long backstory rap can't solve.

Or there's another option.

Erica?

Why are you here?

To apologize.

Everything you said was true...

I've been prioritizing stuff over you, and it's not cool.

And I don't want it to be just words.

I mean it.

No matter where I'm at in my life, I want you in it.

You're my baby brother.

So what are you saying?

I'm saying that it's time for Goldberg and Goldberg to finish what they started.

Tootsie Roll, shark boy, you're out.

Whatever!

I don't need any of you.

Except to get me out of this thing.

Somebody unzip him!

- Hey.

- I don't wanna talk about it.

I do.

All this time, I thought I knew everything about you, and I guess I don't.

Well, I certainly don't make it easy.

Well, we could both be better about telling each other what we want.

I didn't know you wanted a beach house so badly.

I don't care about some dumb house.

I care about what's in it...

our family being together and happy.

If I can have all that, it can always be right here.

But the thing is, Mike's right.

My business is changing.

So what are you thinking?

I'm not sure.

But I do know I've been too complacent.

And if we're ever gonna get that shore house, I got to do something bold.

Well, whatever you do, I'm always right behind you.

Sometimes it takes a glimpse of the future to help you focus on the now.

You wanted to talk?

You want to expand.

I don't want to sell.

So why don't we go in business together?

Partners?

I figured that you and I could team up and take on the big boys.

Or become the big boys.

Life is full of surprises...

...like when the people from your past find their way back.

And when you're open to new possibilities, the future is bright.

I feel like we didn't kick the tires on the name long enough.

Buckle up, Murray.

I'm a difficult partner.

It's true.

He's way too much.

In the end, as long as you make time for the people you love, the playground of life can be a lot more fun.

♪ I'm a pretty, pretty flower ♪ Le Bec-Fin!

I can't believe I'm really here.

- This is a very exciting time for you.

- Oh, it really is.

And I am eager to discuss my new role at the store moving forward.

You shall have the noble title of Baron of the Bookcases.

A baron?

Hot dog!

And there's gonna be some other new stuff.

For instance, no more sitting.

What's that, now?

I work my employees very hard.

If you can lean, you can clean.

But royalty doesn't clean.

They're supposed to lean.

Not in my kingdom.

La Bec-Fin!