07x12 - Cupcake on My Back

[bunniefuu]

- What have you got, George?

- Well, I would
have had a straight

if Chester had dealt me a 6.

And an 8 and 9.

The way this hand stands
now, I've got garbage.

- Two pair.

Fours over jacks.

- Sorry. Three deuces.

- Keep your pants on, d*ck.

Read 'em and weep, boys.

Four lovely ladies.

Come to papa.

- Jim, you don't have
to act so all-fired cocky

just because you
won a few hands.

- A few? I'm creamin' you guys!

- Oh gumdrop!

- Hi, Michael. How are
things at the shoe store?

- Joanna, do you
know what it's like

to spend 60 hours a week

squatting on a stool
within sniffing distance

of strange peoples' feet?

- Can't say that I do.

- Ooooh, again you remembered!

- Well, natch.

Any suitor worth his salt

knows that Cupcake Day
comes but once a year.

- I don't believe I've
heard of Cupcake Day.

- Michael created it
for me two years ago

to help fill that long void

between Valentine's
Day and Easter

when I didn't get any gifts.

- I wish I'd known.

I haven't even begun my
Cupcake Day shopping.

Don't worry about it.

There's a three-day
grace period.

- Since I'm in this
minimal monetary mode,

instead of the traditional
diamond trinket,

I... I opted for something
a bit more... symbolic.

- It's a cupcake.

- Maybe you're not picking
up on the symbolism.

- I get it, Michael,
it's Cupcake Day

and you're giving
me a stupid cupcake.

- Stephanie, Michael has been
going through some hard times.

- Well, how am I supposed
to get in the holiday spirit

when you give me
something like this,

on the second holiest
day of the year?

- I'm sorry, Stephums.

- So this is as good as it gets?

I guess this means
no dinner either.

- Well, pshaw!

That'll be the icing
on the cupcake.

Tonight we dine
at... Maison Hubert.

- That's our restaurant!

Michael, you're such a
scamp on this holiday!

- George?

- I'll stay.

On second thought... four.

- Did I drop a card?

So I did.

- Hey, I saw that.

You pulled that
card out of your sock!

- You're crazy, Jim.

A card fell on the floor
and I merely retrieved it.

- I know a cheater
when I see one.

There's sock fuzz
all over the card...

And look, it's an ace.

He's nothing but a
common criminal.

- Careful.

Jim, I wouldn't call
the mayor a criminal.

- Well, I knew he took staples
and rubber bands home from work,

but I never thought
he'd cheat at cards.

- So now I'm a cheater
and a petty thief.

- Well, at least you're
man enough to admit it.

- Guys!

- Jim Dixon, you're pushing
me to the breaking point.

- Chester Wanamaker,
you're an immoral hound!

- Oh, merciful heavens,

forgive me for
what I'm about to do.

- Ow!

- Don't hit. I'm a bleeder!

- Good evening, Hubert.

- Monsieur Harris!

Mademoiselle Vanderkellen.

So nice to have you
back where you belong

here at Maison Hubert.

- Merci, Hubert.

- I'm afraid we, uh, we
don't have a reservation.

- Never a problem
for Mr. Harris.

- I'm so glad. It's a
special day for me.

- Sacre Bleu! Can it be
Cupcake Day already?

- Where does the time go?

- I haven't even begun shopping
for your Cupcake Day gift.

- There's still time.

- Thank God for that
three-day grace period!

Follow me.

Up, up, up, up!

Back to the bar.

- But it's our 25th anniversary!

- Michel, Richard!

Some people!

- Oh, no!

What are Rollo and
Fiona doing in Vermont?

- Who?

- The Wallingfords.

Our families have hated
each other for years,

and they have this
icky son Roscoe

who was always trying
to touch me at cotillions.

- Steph, are you
forgetting the bylaws?

Discussing reality on
Cupcake Day is forbidden.

Of course!

Well, shall we ask
Henri to bring us

our traditional bottle
of Dom Perignon?

- Uh, bully bottle of bubbly,

but why not sample
something more... more local.

- Vermont Blush?

- Truth be known, Cuppers,
this current cash crunch of mine...

- Say no more.

Actually this Vermont
Blush sounds rather tasty,

and you know how much I
love a nice... cranberry wine.

- I can see what you're doing.

A man with half a brain
can tell you don't mean that,

and I happen to be
one of those men.

So I'm shy a few shekels.

So what? It's Cupcake
Day, a time of giving.

- And getting.

- Henri.

- Oui, Monsieur Harris.

- Bring us your finest
bottle of Dom Perignon.

- Bon.

- Tonight, we live.

- Gustav really
outdid himself tonight.

- It takes a culinary master
to mold a 5-pound lobster

into the shape of a cupcake.

- Excuse me, monsieur,
but there seems to be some

petit problem with
your credit card.

Not platinum enough for you?

- This is no matter
for chuckling.

We called the company
for credit approval,

and you are flatly denied.

- That can't be!

- We've been asked
to destroy your card.

- You can't do that to me!
It's the only card I have left.

- Henri has kindly
agreed to do the honor.

- The bill must be paid in cash.

- $248?

- Plus gratuity.

- But I don't have
that kind of cash!

- I warn you, monsieur,

do not try to run
out on the tab.

Michel and Richard are
no stranger to kickboxing.

- Help me, Steph.
Cough up some cold cash.

- You know I don't carry
money on Cupcake Day.

- We've got to
change these bylaws!

- And I can't wash
dishes in this dress.

It's a Gini Labrazizzi.

- There's only one
thing left to do... beg!

- Who?

- Them.

- I can't beg the
Wallingfords for money.

- Maybe we could
sell them your dress!

All right. I'll grovel.

- Oh, thank you, Steph.

This time you'll be
canonized for sure!

- Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Wallingford.

Remember me,
Stephanie Vanderkellen?

- Of course, dear. It's
so good to see you.

- Is this your young man?

- Michael Harris.

What brings you to Vermont?

I'll bet you $300
it's not the skiing.

- We're up visiting Roscoe.

He's studying at
Bennington College.

- Still? Isn't he like 38?

- The lad can't
settle on a major.

Anyway, the silliest thing
just happened to Michael.

- Oh, yes.

We did notice the
little unpleasantness

with the credit card.

- See, I, uh, left
my other wallet,

the one with the
big roll of money in it,

in my other Ferrari.

- And you'd like us
to take care of your...

- Thanks! You're a lifesaver.

- I can't help you.

- Please, Mr. Wallingford.

Don't make me beg.
I'm not good at it.

- I think you're
marvelous at it, dear.

Pay the bill, Rollo.

Imagine the fun we'll have

telling anyone who'll
listen at the club

that a Vanderkellen begged
a Wallingford for money.

- I'll... I'll get your coat.

- Thank you.

- Stephanie... I'm not quite
sold on this Michael of yours.

You know, our Roscoe has
always been rather smitten with you.

- Oh-h-h-h.

- If it's any inducement,

he's had that
lazy eye corrected.

Well, I don't know if
Roscoe and I are...

- Libby Hartcourt says you
clean toilets at some motel.

- It's not a motel.

It's an inn... and I don't care

if Roscoe did
get his eyes fixed.

He'll always have that hump!

I had the worst
Cupcake Day ever!

- Another delightful
meal. Au revoir, Hubert.

- It is not au revoir. It
is goodbye, deadbeater.

- Well, it was bound to happen.

- What's... what's that, George?

- Jim and Chester
have officially broken up.

- Oh, no! That's just terrible.

Their friendship was practically
legendary around here.

- Jim and Chester are going
around telling everybody in town

that if d*ck hadn't forced
them to play cards last night,

they never would have
had that awful squabble.

- I never forced
anybody to do anything.

- That's not how
the town sees it.

- George, you were there.

Y-You know I had
nothing to do with it.

- I'd like to believe you, d*ck,

but what would the
town gain by lying?

Think about that.

- Good morning, Michael.

- Let's pass with the
pleasantries, JoJo.

I'm pleading for
my love life here.

- Oh, muffin.
- Drop dead!

- She's a little irked that I
made her beg for money

in a restaurant.

I come bearing
an armload of gifts.

- Well, I guess
I could entertain

the idea of accepting it.

After all, I was
publicly humiliated.

- What happened last night
will never happen again.

They're letting me work
double shifts at the shoe store,

and for extra money, the
owner said he'd train me

to become a cobbler.

- A cobbler?

- It's a lost art.

- You know, when
you think of it,

where are the young
cobblers coming from?

- Trust me, Steph, I'm going
to make things better for us.

I swear it!

- Oh, Michael!

What am I going to do with you?

Well now, run
upstairs and try that on.

d*ck, I need 20 grand fast.

- What?
- Okay, 18.

- Michael, we don't
have that kind of money!

Don't plead
poverty with me, pal.

I'm late on my mortgage.

I've missed my last
two Turbo-Z payments.

I've got the repo man
rapping at my door

and I just wrote a bum
check to buy that gift.

I'm drowning.

- Michael, Michael,
we'd like to help you.

- You see, our money
is tied up in the inn.

- Then sell it!

- We're not going
to sell the inn

to support your
extravagant lifestyle.

- And here I was thinking
I could count on you

when things got tough!

I guess you don't know the
true meaning of friendship.

You should look it up sometime.

- Michael, how did you
know that I love black mink.

You shouldn't have!

- Now before I total this up,

you'll want some heel
savers and some shoe trees

so those wing tips
don't lose their shape.

- I don't think I need those.

Hey, I'm working on a
commission here, buddy.

You're taking food
out of my baby's mouth!

- Okay, okay.

- That'll be 74 even.

And next time you come
back, be sure to ask for Michael.

- You couldn't pay
me to come back.

- You don't have
to shove our shoes

down the customer's throat.

They sell themselves due
to their superb workmanship

and low, low, discount prices.

We have a 2-1/2-year
tradition to uphold,

and your attitude is
tarnishing the good name

of Circus of Shoes.

- I'll remember
that, Mr. Rusnak.

- Stan, we have a customer.

- Wait on her and
you're a dead man, Stan.

How may I help you?

- Chuck!
- Dr. Kaiser.

- In our therapy sessions,
you never mentioned

you worked in a shoe store.

- Michael, I asked Stan
to wait on this customer.

- I know, but she's...
she's my mother.

Sorry.

He only lets me
wait on relatives.

- I see, but he
called you Michael.

Your name is Chuck.

- Oh, right. Actually,
it's Michael Chuck.

Some call me Michael.
Some call me Chuck.

Some call me Michael Chuck.

- Well, Michael Chuck.

- Yes.

- Maybe you could
show me this in a 6-1/2 C.

- Excellent choice.

- Are you all right?
You seem a bit tense.

- Confidentially, Dr. Kaiser,

I've had this strain on
my brain for some time.

You know my sweetie, Stephie.

- In sessions, she said
her name was Dawn.

- Well, right. Actually
it's Stephie Dawn.

Some... some call her
Stephie. Some call her...

- Oh, I think I see where
you're going with this,

Michael Chuck.

So you and Stephie Dawn
are having more problems?

- Dr. Kaiser, I'm a
worthless human being.

I lost my high-profile job,

and now I spend quantity time
looking at other peoples' toes.

Yours are cute though.

- Thank you.
- I've got no credit.

My friends won't lend
me a piddling 20 grand!

And I made my Stephie
go and beg for money

like some common panhandler.

- Well, if you'd like to
make an appointment...

Oh, sure, like I can still
afford you uptown shrinks!

- Well, uh, these
heels fit rather nicely.

- I'm glad, and
they're on sale, too.

- Michael Chuck... Do you think

perhaps the pressure
of your current situation

is putting a strain
on your relationship

with Stephie Dawn?

- I can't afford her
champagne tastes

on my Dr. Pepper wages.

Please help me! I've got
a cupcake on my back!

- There, there, there, there.

Please don't cry on
my skirt. It's suede.

- Sorry.

I don't know what's
happening to me.

I used to be...
Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky.

And now I'm just
like a Weeping Willie.

I don't know...
who I am anymore.

- Well, that's... that's
just the problem.

You see, until you know
who the real Michael

or Chuck or Michael Chuck is...

how can you expect to
make any Stephie or Dawn

or Stephie Dawn happy?

- I'm glad you liked
the shoes, Mom.

You've given me
a lot to think about.

You're going to be
canonized for sure.

- Please take care of yourself.

- Bye, Mom.

- Nice going, Michael Chuck.

You never charged your
mother for those pumps!

Turn in your shoehorn.

You're fired!

- So the reason I asked
both of you over here tonight

was to just straighten
out this business.

- d*ck is upset
because the whole town

is blaming him for your breakup.

- Well, if d*ck hadn't
twisted our arms

into playing cards, and
allowed us to go the movies

like we do every other
second Tuesday of the month,

Jim and I would
still be friends.

- That's what the town says.

- I don't care what
the town says.

Y-You're throwing away
a-a 40-year friendship

over a stupid poker game.

- Has it really been 40 years?

- 41 this coming Lent.

We've been through
a lot together.

- Yeah. Through
heck and high water.

Chester, it was wrong of
me to accuse you of cheating.

After all, I was cheating, too.

- You were?

- Well, you had every
right to accuse me.

I was cheating.

- You were? This is nuts!

- If truth be known,

I had a couple of aces
tucked away in my overalls, too.

- What?

I don't ever want to play
cards w-with you lunatics again.

All right. E-Everybody, go home!

- I live here.

- I don't care! Just
get out of here!

- Say, let's head
on over to my place

for a friendly game
of seven-card stud.

- Yeah, let's play
clean for a change.

Do we have to?

- I mean, this is ridiculous!

All my friends are cardsharks.

At least when we play
cards, it's on the up and up.

- Boy, could I use
a cup of coffee.

- It is on the up
and up, isn't it?

- Oh, Michael.

I'm so glad you're here.

I just finished ironing
your work shirts for you,

but you'll have to
keep your jacket on

because I only did the fronts.

- Thanks, Steph, but
you didn't have to bother.

They're no longer work shirts.
They're out-of-work shirts.

- You lost your job?

Well, what will we do now?

How can you sink any lower?

- Don't underestimate me.

I've got momentum on my side.

This is only the tip of my top,

but I'm not going to
drag you down with me.

- What are you saying?

- I'm on the bottom
rung of that Steph-ladder.

- You're not
breaking up with me!

- I can't stand being
a loser in your eyes.

Dammit! I want to
be who I used to be...

your knight in shining cashmere.

- Okay, who is she?
- Huh?

- The one you're trading
me in for, what is she?

A dizzy brunette?

- There's no one,
Steph. I swear.

- You're... dumping
me for no one?

You mean, I've been doing
all this supportive woman crap

for nothing?

- And you're honestly
willing to give up this?

- Well, Michael, you
do have problems!

- No kidding!

And uh, I... I have to, uh...

I have to take
back the mink, too.

Michael, I forbid
you to dump me!

Michael!

- What happened?
Where... where's your mink?

- Michael repossessed it.

- Why?

- You don't give a mink to
someone you've broken up with.

- You mean, you and Michael...

Are you going to be all right?

- d*ck, I'm a big girl.

Worse things have happened.

I certainly don't need any
Michael Harris in my life.

- It's going to be
a long, long winter.

- Meow.