Stupid eggs!
- Honey, would
you pass the rolls?
- Here you go.
Stupid bacon!
- Butter with that?
- No, I think I'll
try marmalade.
I'm in that mood, you know?
Stupid, stupid parsley!
- Excuse me, I'm
not usually one to pry,
but is your maid possessed?
- No, no. That's just...
just her cooking method.
She likes to
intimidate the food.
- Actually there's a reason
behind my squaw's squawks.
She's got the baby-
in-the-belly hormone blues.
- She's eight months pregnant.
- Oh.
Oh!
- It's nothing to worry about.
Just treat her the way we do,
pretend she's a live grenade.
- Here's your stupid
bacon and eggs.
- I didn't order bacon and eggs.
I ordered pancakes.
- The pin is out of the grenade.
- Well, I didn't make pancakes.
I made bacon and eggs.
- But I don't like bacon.
- You will the way I made it.
I tenderized it.
I threw it against the wall.
- Stephanie, go make
Mr. Jenkins his pancakes.
- Why? Because
he asked for them?
Maybe now on, I should
just go from table to table
asking everybody what they want.
- I'll just go to a restaurant,
and good luck on
the birth of your child.
- Oh, drop dead.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
How could I have said that?
- No, it's okay. I understand.
- Don't you even
think of touching me.
- I thought New Englanders were
supposed to be nice and normal.
- Well, that'll teach you
not to stereotype people.
- Stephanie, you were
very rude to our guest.
- Get off my back, woman.
And knock off this "guest" sham.
You charge people to stay here.
- Give birth already!
Mr. Jenkins!
- Michael, why didn't
you stick up for me?
- I was just trying to
remain neutral, you know,
like Switzerland and...
Quick, d*ck, what
other country is neutral?
- Michael, I order
you to take sides.
- You were totally in the right.
- Don't patronize me.
- You were totally in the wrong.
- Traitor.
- There was no correct
answer, was there?
- L-Leave me alone.
- No offense, Michael,
but right now, I can't
stand the sight of you.
Oh no, you're not
going to cry, are you?
- I'll cry if I want
to, cry if I want to.
You would cry too if
this happened to you.
- Why are you staring at me?
- I-I'm not. I'm not.
- Well, your eggs are.
- Sorry. Sorry.
Here's... here's a wacky idea.
Why don't... why don't you
take my car a-and go shopping,
you know, get some fresh air
a-and maybe y-your sanity back?
- You trying to get
rid of me, buddy?
- I'd... I'd rather
not answer that.
It sounds like... like one
of y-your trick questions.
- Okay, maybe I
will go shopping.
Yay.
- I'll drive over to
Johnnycake Mall.
I just hope no stupid, stupid
pedestrians get in my way.
- Wait, why don't... why
don't I-I drive you over there?
You know, it'll give us a
chance to talk some more.
- Oh, that'll be a thrill.
- Oh hi, Michael.
- Hi, George.
- Is something wrong?
- No. No, just playing a quick
game of hide and whimper.
- Oh! Well, I hope you win.
- Hey there, Georgie boy. Wait.
There is something wrong.
- I thought so.
- My sweet and sour
Steph yelled at me
and wounded me
with her wicked words.
- She did seem angry.
She just drove by with d*ck
and threw a soda can at my head.
I'll have some story to
tell at the recycling center.
- She told this punching bag boy
she couldn't stand
the sight of him.
- Well, if it's any
consolation, Michael,
I can't get enough of you.
- Thank you, George. That's
the nicest lie you ever told.
- It was nothing.
You know, you should
look on the bright side.
- You mean, I don't have
a Diet Dr. Pepper dent
in my head like you do?
- No, no, that at least you
have someone to yell at you.
Who do I have?
- Nobody.
- That's right, and you
have a kid on the way,
who will probably
yell at you too.
Who do I have?
- Nobody again. Just
you, yourself, and ye.
- If it weren't for people
throwing things at my head,
I wouldn't even know I exist.
- Wow, you speak wise
words, Kemo-Georgie.
No matter how bad
things seem for moi,
I mean, your lot is a lot
worse. You must be miserable.
Thanks for the pep, pal.
- I'm so glad you
decided to stay.
You'll see, other
than Stephanie,
the rest of us New
Englanders are nice and normal.
Oh. Oh, hi, Joanna.
Hi, Mr. Jenkins.
- George, what are
you doing down there?
- I'm playing a quick
game of hide and whimper,
'cause nobody
wants to yell at me.
- I'll be checking out now.
- Mr. Jenkins!
Can't you play hide and
whimper in your own damn room?
Mr. Jenkins!
- She yelled at me!
- Honestly, d*ck.
You are the slowest
driver I have ever seen.
- Well, you know, I mean,
how much time
would we have saved
even if I had run
over those ducks?
- Well, I guess we'll
never know, will we?
Oh, my god, that's
a Gianna Bruzzese.
The new spring line came
out and I didn't even know it.
- I can't believe it
got by the both of us.
- Excuse me, miss.
I'd like to try on that
Gianna Bruzzese.
- Maybe... maybe you...
maybe you pronounced it wrong.
- I'm sorry, I thought
you were making a joke.
- Trying on a
dress is not a joke.
Later on, I'll tell
you a real joke
and you can compare the
two and learn the difference.
Now, get me my dress,
you four-eyed shop
girl, before I make a stink.
- Fine.
- You know, Stephanie, you
were just the teeniest bit rude
to that... to that shop girl.
- I was?
I didn't say please
to that witch, did I?
- That was it, and you were also
a little hard on Michael before.
You know, especially
when you said
you couldn't stand
the sight of him.
- Oh gee, I hope he didn't
take that the wrong way.
I mean, I love Michael.
He's my husband and
the father of my baby-to-be.
Oh, I'm going to
look gorgeous in that.
Let me try it on.
Let me try it on.
- Maybe in a few months
when you're a little less pregnant.
- Are you saying you refuse
to serve a pregnant woman
because if you are,
that's probably illegal
and I'll have to sue that
cheap polyester frock
right off your back.
- O-Okay, I'm...
I'm ready to go.
Maybe if w-we hurry, we'll get
a-another cr*ck at those ducks,
especially... especially the
one that you claimed was,
you know, w-was staring at you.
- d*ck, this woman
is interfering
with my God-given
right to try on clothes.
- I'm sorry, miss,
but you're just too
enormous for this dress.
- Careful, miss.
She has a-a loaded can
of Dr. Pepper in her purse.
- If you think that dress is too
small for my enormous body,
just let the damn thing out.
- I can't. There's
not enough material.
- Then take some from her.
But I am not leaving this
store until I try that dress on.
- Is that so?
- O-Okay. Okay, everyone.
Show is over. Please disperse.
Th-Thank you.
- Take that dress off.
We need the material.
- Forget it, it's mine.
- d*ck, rip her dress off.
- Okay folks, show's
over. Please disperse.
- Sure, you listen
to a guy in uniform.
- Help me rip her dress off.
You might want
to club her first.
- Would you please
ask this person to leave?
She's frightening
the other shoppers.
- I am not frightening anyone.
Am I?
- No. No, I'm not scared at all.
- Tell you what, if you leave,
I'll buy you a cherry Slurpee.
How about grape?
You just hit me!
No Slurpee for you. Come on.
- Get your hands off me.
Would you please
hold that dress for me?
- She must be insane
to do something like that.
- Am I glad she's gone.
I was scared for my life.
d*ck, are you coming or not?
- She doesn't mean me.
My n... my name is Phil.
- d*ck!
- Coming. Coming.
- Mr. Jenkins!
Mr. Jenkins!
Mr. Jenkins!
Mr. Jenkins!
Michael, have you
seen Mr. Jenkins?
I'm trying to talk
him into staying.
- No, no, JoJo, I haven't.
Have you seen my hormonal other?
- No.
Come to think of it,
have you seen d*ck?
- I haven't even laid a partial
peeper on your man d*ck-free.
- Hi, I'm Larry. This
is my brother, Darryl,
and this is my
other brother, Darryl.
- Have you guys
seen a Mr. Jenkins?
- No.
- Have you seen a Stephy?
- No.
- Have you seen d*ck?
- No.
We're in luck, Darryl.
The rapid-fire questions
and general confusion
leads me to believe we've
stumbled upon a French farce.
Please continue.
- Have you checked the pantry?
- Zut alors, I haven't.
- See, in classic French farce,
people often hide in pantries,
unless they're dead,
in which case they sit in chairs
while others hold one-sided
conversations with them.
The harried
innkeeper has arrived.
Let's see if we can
follow the action.
- Stephanie's in jail.
We have to bail her out.
- My cupcake's in a cage! Why?
- I'll tell you on the way.
- Harried innkeeper
beats a hasty retreat,
followed closely by the
perplexed male ingénue.
- Did I just hear d*ck?
- You missed him
by a split second.
Timing is everything in a farce,
hence the failure of
Marblehead Manor.
- Do you know where he went?
- Yes, with Michael.
- Do you know
where Michael went?
- Yes, with d*ck.
A good farce must have comedy.
Moliere said it best when
he said go for the yuks.
- d*ck!
Michael!
Mr. Jenkins!
- It appears to be intermission.
It appears intermission is over.
Mr. Jenkins, we presume?
- Yes.
- Miss Joanna's looking
for you. She's right outside.
- Oh no, I guess I'll
have to sneak out at night.
- Hear that, Darryl?
Two shows a day.
Let us ourselves
b*at a hasty retreat
and get gussied up for
this evening performance.
It's not often you find good
French farce in Vermont.
- Or a good egg cream.
- ♪ Why do Birds
suddenly appear ♪
♪ Every time you're near? ♪
♪ Just like me They
like to be close to you ♪
- Knock off the singing.
We prisoners have
rights too, you know.
- Listen, I can make
things easy on you
or I can make them hard.
- Makes things
easy, get a new face.
- This was such a peaceful
burg before this baby boom hit.
- I like your style.
What are you in for?
- I slapped a security guard
just to watch him go, "Ow."
How about you?
- Slapped my mailman.
TV Guide was late,
and it had Cosby
on the cover again.
- I slapped my
priest after he told me
this water retention
too shall pass.
- Yeah, this must
be the cellblock
where they put the slappers.
Well, if people cross
us, they're going to pay.
- That's right.
- Right on.
- Oh my God, I
slapped Father Ponstil.
Oh, how could I have done that?
He baptized me,
for goodness sakes.
- And I slapped that nice
mailman, Mr. Dinsmore.
It's not his fault Bill
Cosby is so ubiquitous.
- That poor security guard
was just doing his job.
I really should pay
for that tooth I cracked.
- Hey, I warned you before,
knock off the mood swings.
- Poor Michael, the
things I said to him.
- Oh, I called my husband
a walking phlegm ball.
- I told mine that
the baby isn't his.
It might be his.
- Dr. Grossman warned me
I might have mood swings.
Of course, he was
standing out of striking range
when he said it.
- You use Dr. Grossman?
I do too.
- Me too.
- No.
- Yes!
- I love that man so much.
- He's so gentle.
- And sweet.
Other than my husband
and my mailman,
Dr. Grossman's the only man
I like getting undressed for.
- All right, ladies,
let's can the smut.
You here to visit the riffraff?
- Actually just the one riff.
- Does... does there
seem to be a theme here?
- Michael, you came for me,
and after all of the
horrible things I said.
You are the most
wonderful man in the world.
- No, my man is.
- No, my men are.
- Oh Michael, being away
from you and in the lockup
has been t*rture.
- But Muffin, this
morning you said
you couldn't stand
the sight of me.
- Well, that wasn't me talking.
That was my raging hormones
and they don't love you like I do.
- Aw, Steph!
- Oh, Michael.
- Aw.
- Okay, get away from me.
Go see what's keeping d*ck.
If I stay here any longer,
I might wind up hard
and bitter like these two.
No offense, but you two
have an edge that's not pretty.
- Come on, d*ck. Shake a shin.
My caged cutie wants
out of cellblock mommy.
- I'm trying.
I've never seen so many
damn questions on a form.
Do you really have to know
what type of music I like?
- We want our
records to be complete.
Just as I thought, show tunes.
- Here, do I have to go
through a-a strip search now?
- Watch it, Loudon.
I could book you
for sarcasm one.
All right, blondie,
flap your wings.
Fly to freedom.
- Bye, Norma.
- Bye, honey.
- Bye, Debbie.
- We'll miss you, banjo.
- Well, I'll see you
as soon as the system
spits you back
out on the streets.
- I wouldn't rent a
reunion hall just yet.
- Problemo with the
Sing-Sing sisters?
- Their hubbies are over
at Johnnycake Bar and Grill
watching the Patriots game.
Won't be over 'til said game is.
- The Patriots game is on?
Damn.
H-How come my mailman always
d-delivers my TV Guide late?
- Some mailmen
need a good slapping.
- Well, I'm not leaving until
my sisters are sprung too.
- Welcome back, honey.
- We missed you, banjo.
- Cuppers, what are you doing?
You just met these
big bad mamas.
- Michael, when you
do time with people,
you become very
close very quickly.
- But Steph, seeing you
withering away in that slammer
is more than this
papa bear can bear.
Bail them all out, d*ck.
- I'm not going to bail
out total strangers.
- Oh, it's always
you straight arrows
that won't give us cons a break.
Michael, make d*ck
write another check.
- d*ck, write another check.
- No!
- Do something, Michael.
I'm starting to hate
the sight of you again.
- Jeepers, you
do turn on a dime.
What do you say we jitter
over to the Johnnycake
and hustle back their hubbies?
- Good idea.
Banjo is starting
to frighten me.
We'll be back as soon
as the game is over.
- I heard that, d*ck,
and I want your scrawny
bodies back here immediately.
- Let's hope it goes
into triple overtime.
- I heard that too.
- You men are all alike.
- You're all scum.
- You try hauling around
20 extra pounds of baby.
Here you go.
- Thanks, Michael.
You're welcome, Dickers.
- What... what are
you doing down there?
My ex-con cutie is
still gunning for me.
- How about you, Mr. Jenkins?
I'm hiding from your wife.
- Ah!
♪ Just like me They long to be ♪
♪ Close to you ♪
- ♪ Just like me
They long to be ♪
♪ Close to you ♪
♪ La la la la ♪
♪ Close to you ♪
♪ La la la la ♪
♪ Close to you ♪
- Meow!
08x08 - Cupcake in a Cage
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d*ck Loudon and wife Joanna relocate from New York City to a small town in Vermont, where they run the historic Stafford Inn.
d*ck Loudon and wife Joanna relocate from New York City to a small town in Vermont, where they run the historic Stafford Inn.