02x04 - Madison & Son

Episode transcripts for the TV show "The Odd Couple". Aired February 2015 - January 2017.*
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Two friends try sharing an apartment, but their ideas of housekeeping and lifestyles are as different as night and day.
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02x04 - Madison & Son

Post by bunniefuu »

So why do you think Teddy wanted to talk to all of us at once?

Well, if he didn't want to text it, tweet it or e-mail it, it can't be good.

Okay, let's not jump to conclusions.

Although he was fighting with Diane last time they were here, so oh, my God, he's getting a divorce!

Oh, no.

Am I gonna have to take in another pathetic loser?

You know what, it could be a health thing.

I didn't think anything of it, but last week at lunch, he didn't finish his sandwich.

(all gasp)

Now that you mention it, yesterday we were walking in the park, and he said that the trees look beautiful this time of year.

Teddy doesn't care about trees!

Hey!

I'm glad... (groans)

I'm glad you're all here.

That's right, Teddy.

We are all here.

Felix: And whether it's marital issues or a health problem...

Or a psychosexual blackmail scheme...

It happens.

What the hell is wrong with you dummies?

I'm fine!

I wanted you all here because I got good news for Oscar.

Oh, come on! Boo.

You could've texted that.

Hey, good news for Oscar.

Let's stay interested.

Okay, Oscar, what's the one thing you've dreamed about ever since you were a little kid?

Loni Anderson?

My own Batmobile?

A robot version of me in the Chuck E. Cheese band?

No!

This Saturday, you're gonna be throwing out the first pitch at a New York Mets game.

Oh, my God! That's amazing!

I've always wanted to do that.

In my dream, that's where Loni and I were going in my Batmobile.

Thanks, Teddy.

Hey, it's easy when your client is a beloved New York radio personality.

Also, Miss America got head lice.

Wow. Oscar, I can't believe it.

You're actually going to be pitching for the New York Metropolitans.

Well, not in the game.

It's more of a ceremonial thing.

(gasps) A ceremony, wow!

(snaps)

I have the perfect cape for you.

You will look just like Batman.

I think I'll just need a ball and a mitt.

Oh, yeah, sure, that's fun.

Hey, and, Murph, since you played for the Mets, they want you to be Oscar's honorary catcher.

Honorary? Is that like imaginary?

'Cause I'd really like to be there in person.

This is amazing. I can still remember my first Mets game.

My dad took me to it. I was four.

We got hotdogs, and I spilled ketchup all over my shirt, and he said, "Don't worry about it."

You really took that advice to heart.

Loving the Mets is one of the few things that brought me and my dad together.

Murph: Hey, Teddy.

That's a nice thing you did for Oscar, especially given your condition.

(crying): I just hope you're around for the big day.

Murph, you're lucky you're pretty.

Oscar, I know with your big sports pitch coming up, I promised I would not tell you not to play ball in the house, so...

Emily, is there anything you'd like to tell Oscar not to do?

(deadpan): Good God, man, this is not a gymnasium.

You're gonna break something.

Have you no sense of decorum?

Wow, Oscar, she sounds pretty mad.

Speaking of your big sports pitch, I had an idea.

I'm not wearing a cape. I don't care how much I'll look like Batman.

No, no, when you were talking about going to Mets games as a boy, I thought wouldn't it be nice if your dad flew into town for the big date?

Both: Aww.

Yeah, I don't think so.

Why not? Didn't you hear the double-aww?

My dad and I don't exactly get along.

He doesn't like to talk on the phone, and he can't Skype because he doesn't know how to work a computer.

Says the guy that asks me to print out his e-mails.

Oscar, I know that your relationship with your father is a little bit strained, but don't you think this is the perfect chance to show him how well you're doing?

I mean, what dad wouldn't be proud?

What dad? My dad.

Nothing I do is ever good enough for him.

One time I got a C-minus on a test, and he said, "You couldn't do better?"

Well, couldn't you?

Oscar, I've met Walter many times, and I find him to be a delight.

Yeah, he's great as long as you're not his son.

Okay, Oscar, I just think that...

Look, the last thing I need is for my dad to be around making me feeling crappy on what's supposed to be such a great day.

I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this!

I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this!

(doorbell rings)

What did you do?

Maybe it's the mailman.

(whispering): Please be the mailman.

Hello, son.

Hi, Dad.

Look, it's my dad.

What? Can you believe?

How did this even happen?

You sent me a ticket.

And an Uber.

So, are you gonna invite me in?

Because if I'm sleeping in the hallway, I'm gonna need a pillow.

Yes, Dad. Come on in.

It's good to see you.

Wow.

A father-son reunion.

Was anybody filming that?

It brings tears to your eyes.

I'll bring tears to your eyes.

Hello, Mr. Snazzy.

Ho-ho, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

What's this?

A hard candy!

(softly): Wow.

And it's unwrapped and warm.

Wow.

That'll be a fun treat for later.

Hi, I'm Dani.

I work with your son.

Hi there, gorgeous.

Oh, he's sweet.

Are you sure he's your dad?

And who is this doe-eyed little charmer?

(chuckles) Oh, hi. I'm Emily.

I'm Felix's girlfriend.

Girlfriend? But you...

All right!

Okay!

Dad, you want to sit down?

(door opens)

Murph: Hey, Oscar.

I picked up our jerseys.

Ah, cool, an old guy.

Oh, my God, Marcus Murphy?

Six-time All-Star, eight Gold Gloves?

Yes, yes and yes.

Quick ask me another. I'm on fire.

This is my dad, Walter.

Oh, hey, Walter. You can call me Murph.

You hear that?

He said I could call him Murph.

He's two feet away, Dad.

We hear everything he says.

You know, um, Murph was just a guest on Oscar's radio show.

Yeah, I don't get that radio show.

I don't get it, either, but apparently sports is very popular.

No. I don't know how to listen to satellite radio.

You know, what am I, and astronaut?

(laughter)

Well, I'm gonna grab a beverage.

Anybody else want to drink their body weight?

(sighs)

Okay, Oscar, I know what you're thinking.

No, you don't, or else you wouldn't have followed me into a room full of knives.

Okay. Was I a tad presumptuous inviting him here without your permission?

Perhaps.

Did I miscalculate the level of your estrangement?

Apparently.

Am I gonna kick your ass if you keep talking this way?

Absolutely.

But this is a golden opportunity to repair your relationship.

You both have genuine feelings for each other.

If you can just tell the other one how you feel.

I tried that once.

After my divorce, I told him I was depressed.

He told me to read the funnies.

So after 40 years in the candy business, I finally had enough.

I realized it's for suckers.

(laughter)

Suckers!

Like a lollipop, Oscar!

Yeah, I think I might have heard that one.

Oh, he's just so adorable.

I want to give him a kiss.

Oh, me, too.

Nobody's stopping you.

Hey, Murph!

You should help Oscar get ready for his big pitch.

I don't need help, Dad.

Good! You're putting the past behind you.

What do you mean?

Well, I used to coach his Little League team, and Oscar was the opposite of good.

I once tried to convince him there was a position called "wait in the car."

(laughter)

You know what, Murph, maybe we should go to the park and practice a little bit.

There you go!

See, it has to be his own idea.

Mm-hmm.

I'm a little worried about the pitch.

Maybe a kiss would help.

(laughter)

Mmm.

Mmm.

Hey, watch it, mister.

That's my girlfriend.

All right, all right.

Announcer: He's set to face Dee Gordon, the left-hand batter.

Leading off for the Marlins.

Harvey into the windup.

And strike one.

Harvey's really throwing smoke.

Yeah.

I think I saw him once at a Denny's.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Could've been a Red Lobster.

Will you look at them?

Hiding their feelings behind a wall of sports.

Wallowing in stony silence.

Lucky them.

No, clearly they want to connect, but they don't know how.

They don't have the tools.

Well, you can be a tool.

Exactly.

Mm-hmm.

I can be the tool that finally fixes their...

Okay, I get it.

Ah, father and son.

Dani, would you look at this heart-warming tableau.

My heart's plenty warm. Leave me out of this.

You know, maybe you two should talk.

You have this precious time, and you spend it all in front of the old boob tube.

Can you turn it up, Oscar?

It's getting a little chatty in here.
Announcer: Everybody in the paid crowd of...

No, you know what, no, no.

No more sports.

I cannot let you squander this opportunity.

Where did the game go?

Walter, let's face it.

You have five, maybe six more times to be with your son.

It suddenly got very dark.

Well, Walter, I apologize, but it pains me to see you sitting there...

What the...

Very funny.

Watch this. Huh?

Now, you both have so much to give, if you can just...

Ah, yeah, okay.

Stop it.

Stop it.

(laughs) This is fun.

Yeah!

It's like whack-a-mole.

Watch this.

Aah!

Fine.

Forgive me for caring.

You can go back to your sportscast.

He's got a girlfriend and you don't?

Man.

This brings back memories.

Hey, Mr. Met.

(groans)

I guess he's still mad at me.

I dated his ex-wife.

(chuckles) You mean Mrs. Met stepped out on Mr. Met for you?

(chuckles)

You know there's a human dude in there, right?

Teddy: There he is.

Whoa, what's with the ice pack, big guy?

Murph and I practiced again this morning, and I overdid it.

Oscar, what the hell?

I know.

My stupid dad got in my head.

Well, um, don't worry.

Just sit down.

Relax.

And you're gonna be just fine.

(chuckles)

Murph! You broke my guy!

I couldn't stop him.

I tried to take the ball away from him.

He started throwing pinecones.

Those little guys hurt.

Wow! The Mets locker room.

What a day, huh?

Felix: Yes, what a day indeed.

Here I am in the place where the sportsmen frolic in their jock straps and bare feet.

(sighs)

Mr. Madison, Mr. Murphy, we're ready in two minutes.

Felix: Walter, any last minute words of encouragement for your son?

Yes.

As I used to tell you in Little League, Oscar, if you screw up, I'm Jeff Dellinger's father.

Hey, Murph, will you sign my hat?

Yeah!

Felix, will you stop?

Stop what?

Quit trying to create the perfect father-son moment.

He's never gonna change.

You don't know that.

Yes, I do. I've been trying for 40 years!

Just leave it alone.

Hey.

You okay, buddy?

You seem kind of rattled.

I'm fine. Let's just do this.

I believe in you, Oscar!

As does everyone here, even if they can't say it!

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, today's first pitch will be thrown by sports radio host and lifelong Mets fan, Oscar Madison.

(applause)

You know what, it's just a pitch.

What's the worst that can happen?

That's the worst that can happen.

Got him right in the ball.

I know it's early in his career, but if you ask me, Steph Curry is the best pure sh**t in NBA history.

Let's take some calls.

Steve from Detroit, what do you think?

Steve: I think Reggie Miller was a better sh**t than Curry.

Fair point.

I also think my niece throws better than you, and she's three.

Okay, for the third time in the last five minutes, we're not discussing that.

Yeah, people, enough.

Pitching in front of that big crowd is harder than it looks.

Cut Oscar some slack.

Thank you.

So, Dani, were you the one that taught him to throw like that?

Hell no. I got a great arm.

Don't lump me in with him.

Oh, good, it looks like we have time for one more call.

Don from Chapel Hill.

Don: Thanks, Oscar.

Love the show.

I-I was thinking, since you threw a baseball at Mr. Met's head, don't you think it's only fair that Mr. Met gets to throw a human baby at your head?

And we'll be back.

Hey, loving the show today, Oscar.

One of your best.

You know what's overrated? The Internet.

I say we unplug it for a while.

How bad is it?

Oh, it's bad.

I don't want to say you're a laughingstock, so, uh, what's another word means everybody's laughing at you?

Well, I got you into this, and I think I have a way to get you out.

Ooh, is it a name change, because I've never really liked Oscar.

This could be a blessing.

No, no.

I-I've scheduled a photo op for later today back at Citi Field.

No one one's throwing a human baby at me!

The team wants to videotape you apologizing to Mr. Met and put it on their Web site.

I'm not gonna do that.

It'll just keep the story going.

It's basic PR.

You got to let people know that you can laugh at yourself.

Yeah, show everybody that Phil Madison is a guy who can take a joke.

Caleb?

Jonah.

I got a list.

So, it's nice that the Mets let you come back after what you did yesterday.

Yeah, Dad.

They showed it on the news.

It was even worse in slow-motion.

Mmm boing!

We had to bring him, huh?

What was I supposed to do, tell him to wait in the car?

That's what he did to me!

All right, Oscar.

I wrote an apology for you.

Just read this to Mr. Met, and in ten minutes, this whole thing will be behind you.

Oscar: Oh.

Geez.

That's hilarious.

Mr. Met, I'd like to apologize.

I didn't mean to hit you.

It was a knuckleball from a knucklehead.

(chuckles, mutters)

You bring joy to millions of people, and you deserve better.

Knowing that I injured a beloved figure hurts me as much as it did you.

But you're not the one with the head wound.

Okay, we get it.

You're very funny and charming, and everybody loves you.

But you know what, I'm sick of it.

Oscar, stick to the script.

You're making jokes, putting me down.

I've been taking it my whole life.

Would it k*ll you to say something positive for once?

Like, "It's cool they let you throw out the first pitch."

Or maybe a simple, "Hey, I'm proud of you, son."

Whoa, wait.

Don't take it out on Mr. Met.

If there's something you want to say to me, say it to my face.

Okay.

You're the reason I messed up the pitch.

What are you talking about?

I screwed up because I was trying too hard.

And it's my fault?

Yes!

I always feel like I'm disappointing you.

And somehow I got it in my stupid head that if I nailed this pitch, then maybe I'd finally get...

...your approval.

The trouble with you kids is you want a trophy every time you do something.

Well, I didn't raise you that way.

I didn't want you to get a swelled head.

No offense.

And by the way, you're welcome, because it worked.

You turned out pretty good.

Really? You... think so?

Of course!

They don't just let anybody throw out the first pitch.

You're doing great, Oscar.

Thanks, Dad.

Are we done yapping here?

Yeah, we're good.

(organ playing)

Hey, it seems like the game's starting.

You want to grab a hotdog and watch a few innings before we go to the airport?

Sounds good to me, but first, I got to hit the head.

Just like you did.

(chuckles)

Get it?

I got it, Dad.

I can't wait to tell this story to all my doctors.

Well, that was beautiful.

I'm tearing up, and not just from the overwhelming scent of anti-fungal spray.

You know what, this never would've happened if a very special person hadn't brought us together.

Oh, Oscar.

So, thank you.

We owe it all to you.

See ya.

Can you believe that?

After everything I did to bring them together, at least he could give me a little bit of credit.

Oh.

This feels nice.

You're warmer than I expected.

Good morning, Danielle.

Your hair looks especially high this morning.

(chuckles)

You're in a good mood.

I am celebrating.

Miss America recovered and threw out the first pitch last night.

And...?

She threw a perfect strike.

And during her wind up, her boob fell out.

(laughs)

Hey, now you're not the boob everybody's talking about.

You're fiving high.

What's the occasion?

Just feeling good.

Oh, and listen, thanks for flying my dad out.

It turned out to be a really nice thing.

I knew that it would, 'cause there's nothing in the world more sacred than the bond between a parent and a child.

Well, I'm glad to hear you say that, because it occurred to me wouldn't it be fun to have your mom fly out for a visit?

Oscar, what did you do?

She gets here Friday.

What?! This place is a pigsty!

I've only got three days to whip it into shape!

Where the hell is my carpet steamer?!

You didn't really call her, did you?

Nope.

I'll tell him in a day or two.

Where do I begin?!

Mother hates mess.
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