04x18 - Fiddler on the Ropes

[bunniefuu]

♪ Thank you for being a friend

♪ Traveled down the road and back again

♪ Your heart is true

♪ You're a pal and a confidante

♪ And if you threw a party

♪ Invited everyone you knew

♪ You would see the biggest gift would be from me

♪ And the card attached would say

♪ "Thank you for being a friend" ♪

Hi, Blanche.

Girls, you are my very best friends in the entire world, and I trust and respect you more than any people I know.

So I want you to tell me the truth.

Now, honestly, do you think I'm competent at what I do?

Based on the sounds from your bedroom, I'd bet you're damn near spectacular.

I am talking about my job at the museum.

Of course you're competent.

They wouldn't have kept you for five years if you weren't.

Then why is my boss constantly looking over my shoulder?

I would guess a plunging neckline and a push-up bra.

I swear, sometimes I think I just wanna throw in the towel and take an early retirement.

I wonder if you can collect Social Security at 49, 50.

49-50.

What is that, Blanche - the address of the Social Security building?

Come on now.

You had a bad day at work.

Happens to all of us, but we're not retiring.

I just don't know what I'd do if I retired.

No problems to solve, no challenges.

I'd be afraid my mind would go soft.

Don't even talk that way, Rose.

That's crazy talk.

It sure would be nice to have some investments to fall back on, though.

I just never had a mind for that.

Me neither.

I never had a mind for money matters.

I always used to let Stanley handle all our investments.

Did he have a head for numbers?

Stanley?

The man used to have to get naked to count to 21.

Little more.

Another one.

Now, if you ask me, we are doing fine, starting out slow, you know, going in on that certificate of deposit together.

It's the simplest form of investment.

An idiot couldn't screw it up.

By the way, Rose, what was the rate today for the CD at the bank?

I didn't go to the bank today.

I was called to work early, so I asked Sophia to go for us.

You let Ma leave the house with $3,000 of our money?

What's wrong with that?

What's wrong?!

Odds are she'll probably come back with a handful of magic beans!

Dorothy, just relax.

Your mother is a responsible woman.

She knows how long it took us to save that money.

You can trust her.

Don't get mad.

Ma, did you buy the CD today?

Not exactly.

I said, don't get mad.

Sophia, what did you do with our money?

I think you're gonna be really impressed.

I made a very shrewd deal with a guy I met at the bus stop.

Oh!

Now, I know it's a big responsibility to take care of one, but I bought a boxer.

You spent $3,000 for a dog?

He's no dog.

He's a winner.

Come on in, Pepe.

Ma, you bought a prizefighter?

It's a once-in-a-lifetime investment.

A week from now, you're gonna be kissing the ground I walk on.

You're gonna be looking up at it from the other side.

What happens a week from tonight?

Pepe, tell them.

¿Qué?

Pepe, boom-boom.

k*ll Gonzales!

Attaboy, tiger.

Hey, Pepe, why don't you do some roadwork while we talk?

¿Qué?

Immigration, Pepe.

Immigration.

Nobody has to worry about anything.

This is the chance of a lifetime.

Even if Pepe loses next week's fight, he still gets $10,000.

How is that possible?

It's a guaranteed purse.

And for our lousy 3-grand investment, that's a $7,000 profit.

Pepe gets the standard 20%, and we're left with a tidy sum for only one week's work.

So 20% is standard for a boxer?

It is if he doesn't speak English.

Ma, that's it.

Forget it.

Take him back.

To where, Customer Service?

Besides, I believe there's a no-return clause on fighters.

Unless you're Robin Givens.

Ma, this isn't making any sense.

It's all legit.

I checked it out.

If you don't mind, we're gonna make a few phone calls in the morning to try to find out what this is all about.

The whole thing is ridiculous.

Fine.

In the meantime, I'll bunk with you.

I told Pepe he could have my room.

He's staying here with us?

Hey, we're in training.

And set another place at the table.

Hey, Pepe.

Pepe, you like ravioli?

¿Qué?

Boom-boom.

k*ll Gonzales!

(♪ violin)

Yeah, his name is Kid Pepe.

That's right.

He's supposed to have a fight next week.

Yeah, thank you.

I'll hold.

OK, Kid, there are three things you have to remember in the ring.

One - keep your face covered, two - keep your head down and three - keep moving at all times.

Incidentally, the same rules apply if you're ever dining at a clam bar in Little Italy.

(raises volume)

Ma, will you turn that down?

I can't hear.

(turns off music)

Uh, yes, yes.

Yes, I'm still here, yes.

Oh.

So the contract is valid?

Well, thank you.

Thank you very much.

Everything is on the up and up.

He does have a fight scheduled.

All we have to do is hire a cut man, but I can probably do that on my way back from the dry cleaner's.

Gee, it sounds so natural, doesn't it?

Then I guess till next Tuesday, we are Kid Pepe's managers.

What happens after Tuesday?

We take our winnings and buy a heavyweight.

OK.

A middleweight and a microwave.

Ma, forget it.

This insanity lasts exactly one week, and that's only because we have a chance of possibly getting our savings back.

The minute the fight is over, it is "Adios, Pepe." No!

No, no, Pepe!

Get back here and boom-boom.

Wouldn't it be something, though, to make $7,000 in 7 days?

It sure would.

Oh, girls, remember what we're dealing with.

My mother bought this man at a bus stop.

Jab.

Left.

Jab, jab, left.

Ma, you don't know the first thing about boxing.

Please.

I used to be known as the Don King of Sicily.

Of course, I used to wear my hair differently then.

I might be able to help Pepe, too.

You can be a constant reminder of what might happen if you spar without headgear.

I mean I might be able to help him with this.

(singsong)

A, my name is Anne, and my husband's name is Alf.

We come from Anhoev, and we sell antlers.

This is ridiculous.

The important thing is that we get our money back.

What difference does it make if Pepe wins?

Ten grand.

Say what?

Ten grand.

If Pepe wins, the money's doubled.

Didn't I mention that?

Hands up, Pepe.

Come on.

Ma, get the music.

Pussycat, get some sleep.

The big fight's tomorrow.

Words that have echoed from mother to daughter since time began.

OK, so I don't turn a phrase like Harriet Nelson.

You still better get some sleep.

I can't, Ma.

I'm too nervous.

About the money?

No, Ma.

I'm always a wreck the night before any welterweight Division B match-up at the local arena.

Of course I'm worried about - Ma, how could you do this?

How could you gamble with our money?

Let me tell you a story, Dorothy.

Picture it - Sicily, 1920.

Two young girls pack their bags and leave their tiny village to seek fame and fortune and a meal cooked without oregano.

Their journey takes them to a seaside town where a ship prepares to depart for the New World.

They're just - The New World?

Anybody can say Baltimore.

There's an art to telling these stories.

Sorry.

Where was I?

Departing for the New World.

Oh, right.

Anyway, the price of steerage turns out to be 900,000 lire.

Or approximately a buck and a quarter.

Which is exactly the amount of each girl's life savings.

Exactly?

That's why this is a story instead of an immigration report.

May I continue?

One girl chooses to spend her money and take a chance on adventure.

The other plays it cautiously and books only a ferry to Sardinia, saving the rest of her money for a rainy day.

Lemme guess, Ma.

You were the one who chose adventure.

You also would've said Baltimore instead of the New World.

You're no good at this.

I'm the girl who played it safe.

Maybe if I'd made the other choice, I'd have been prime minister of Israel instead of my good friend Golda Meir.

Ma, you never met Golda Meir!

Please!

I almost married her husband, the man who perfected the hot dog.

(both)

Oscar Meir.

Ma, you're not making any sense.

All right, Dorothy.

Let me level with you.

All my life, I've been the practical one.

Your father was the dreamer.

So when this opportunity came along, I could hear his voice like he was standing next to me.

"Sophia, take a chance.

Go for it." I didn't mean to hurt you, pussycat.

I guess...

I did it for your father.

Oh, Ma...

That's a load of crap.

I'm dancing as fast as I can, Dorothy.

Hey, I did a dumb thing, and I feel terrible.

What else do you want me to say?

At least it was a start.

You can also tell me again how everything is going to work out just fine.

Everything is gonna work out just fine.

All the Kid has to do is step into that ring tomorrow, and we'll make our money back.

Dorothy, he's gone!

What?

Pepe's gone!

I went to take him milk and cookies, and his room is empty.

He can't be gone!

We have to find him!

Sophia, where are you going?

Out the window before I'm thrown out.

On my own, at least I can tuck and roll.

Are you sure this is the right place?

No, but it was the only address we could find in Pepe's room.

I feel uncomfortable about going through Pepe's things.

Me, too.

Although it was kind of exciting opening his closet and seeing his little boxing trunks hanging there with that provocative nickname on 'em.

Blanche, Everlast is a brand name, not a nickname.

What kind of a place is this, anyway?

I don't know.

An old office building or a warehouse.

Looks to me like the kind of place where shady dealings go on.

I say we just forget our money and save our behinds.

Why?

You've got a lot more behind than you do money.

No, I'm with you.

I say let's cut our losses and get out of here.

(♪ piano)

(violin plays sweetly)

Excuse me.

This is a private session.

What is going on here?

What does it look like?

The opposition kidnapped our fighter and is trying to turn him into a sissy boy by making him play the violin.

Come on, Pepe.

Ma!

Ladies, I guess I've got some explaining to do.

You sure do.

Like why you snuck out on us.

Like why you used us.

Like why you're speaking better English than Sylvester Stallone.

Pepe, what is this all about?

The violin.

In two days, I have an audition for the Juilliard School of Music.

Yeah, right.

And I'm Jimmy Swaggart's favorite way to pass a lonely afternoon.

No, it's true.

This is my teacher.

He's been coaching me in the evenings.

I see.

And is there anything else that you feel we're entitled to know before we kiss you and the $3,000 goodbye?

You'll get your money back.

I'm gonna fight tomorrow.

I need that purse in case I get into Juilliard.

You need a purse to go to Juilliard?

You understood more when he spoke Spanish, didn't you, Rose?

Frankly, I don't understand much, either.

Pepe, why didn't you tell us all this when Sophia first brought you home?

I was afraid you'd back out of the deal.

I needed your money for the entrance fee for the fight.

Entrance fee?

Oh, yeah, right.

Didn't I mention that?

No problem.

It comes out of Rose's share.

What about the Spanish?

Why did you pretend to only know Spanish?

Image.

Cuban boxers are supposed to know their right from their left, not much else.

And you think that we are that narrow-minded and prejudiced that we actually felt that way?

You bought into it, didn't you?

Hey, I didn't invent Kid Pepe.

I just conformed to your image of a simple-minded Hispanic fighter.

Well, I am a Cuban.

But hath not a Cuban eyes?

Hath not a Cuban hands?

Organs?

Dimensions?

Senses?

Affections?

Passions?

Fed with the same food?

Hurt with the same weapons?

Subject to the same diseases?

Healed by the same means?

Warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as you are?

If you prick us, do we not bleed?

If you tickle us, do we not laugh?

If you poison us, do we not die?

I also considered auditioning for the Actors Studio.

Why does every fighter become an actor?

Just once, I'd like it the other way around, if for no other reason than to see Chevy Chase get his butt kicked.

You can't fight.

You can't take a chance like that.

I have to.

I need the money for school.

What about your hands?

What if something happens to your hands?

They'll be fine.

And after tomorrow, I'll never fight again.

Or never play the violin again.

Excuse me.

Are we back to real life?

Or are the two of you performing a scene from Golden Boy?

Ladies, I've spent years working with this boy, watching him turn into a masterful musician.

You yourselves have heard how he makes the violin sing.

But his fate is in your hands.

Please...

Please don't make him step into that ring tomorrow.

You mean and lose all our money?

Yes.

That's the most touching thing I've ever heard.

I don't know what to say.

I do.

Fat chance, grandpa!

Oh, no!

What's everybody doing up?

We settled this.

The Kid wants to fight, and we need him to fight.

There's no problem here.

Everybody back to bed.

Ma, stop that.

We have to consider this very carefully.

We could be holding the man's fate in our hands.

I once held a man's fate in my hands.

I'm shocked.

It was back in high school.

I was dating the quarterback of the football team.

All the major colleges were trying to recruit him.

I was pretty sure he was leaning toward Notre Dame 'cause he asked me how to spell it.

But secretly, I was hoping for Alabama.

Going to Notre Dame would put such a wrench in our relationship, with all those priests skulking about the campus.

Anyway, one night, he told me he'd finally made his decision.

He was gonna enroll at the little junior college just 5 miles outside of town.

When I said, "Honey, why?

They don't even have a football team," he answered by slipping a ring on my finger and proposing marriage.

Well, I could not believe it.

I sat there for almost half an hour just staring at that ring.

Finally I said, "Honey, this will not do.

I cannot accept this ring." Because you loved him too much to stand in the way of his career.

No, because it was a piece of cheap glass, and the band was turning my finger green.

Well, no matter what your reasons were, you obviously made the right decision.

He probably went on to a very successful career in football.

Actually, he was so crushed by my rejection that he gave up football and turned gay.

You don't "turn gay." You're either gay, or you're not.

You had nothing to do with it.

Dorothy, if he had been gay before, he would have had better taste in jewelry.

That sure convinced me.

Let's get some shut-eye.

It's almost fight time.

Oh, Ma!

Dorothy, I'm not asking the Kid to win.

He has to step in the ring, and we make our money.

Sophia, if he steps in the ring, he might hurt his hands.

Unless it turns out that he's so bad that he gets knocked out before he can throw a punch.

Is everybody thinking what I'm thinking?

That that was a really mean thing to say.

As a general rule, Rose, you should not be the first to answer.

Rose, if we can convince Pepe just to show up there and get knocked out, everybody'll get what they want.

What if he won't go along with that?

We'll talk him into it.

There's no shame in taking a dive.

In Sicily, it's a time-honored tradition.

Pepe, could we have a word with you?

There's something we'd like to discuss.

Can it wait?

Right now, I've got a few things on my mind.

Like that big sucker over in the other corner?

That's right at the top of the list.

We want to talk about your fight strategy.

We have an idea.

Yeah?

What do you want me to do?

Fall down.

What?!

They want you to take a dive.

Ma!

It wouldn't be a dive, exactly.

Just protect your hands by not using 'em.

If you get knocked out, you get knocked out.

I can't do that.

It's immoral.

Immoral?

What's so moral about two guys standing up in the ring b*ating each other bloody?

It just isn't fair.

To whom?

To the gamblers?

Gambling is illegal in this state.

Besides, you're such an underdog, even Benny the Weasel won't give odds.

I overheard that at bingo the other night.

This way, everybody wins, and nobody gets hurt.

What's wrong with that?

All right, I'll do it.

Great!

(Gonzales)

Hey, Pepe, your mother's a tramp!

I'm gonna k*ll you, Gonzales.

(bell rings)

It's a good thing he doesn't play trumpet.

His lip looks like meat loaf.

Just relax.

Don't be nervous.

I'm not nervous.

Are your hands all right?

They're fine.

He never threw a punch.

That's all behind you now, Pepe.

This is the moment you wanted.

Good luck.

Before I start this piece, I just have one question to ask.

Do I play the violin?

Oh, no.

I'm afraid I can't remember the piece I'm supposed to play.

Look, this happens sometimes after a fight.

Can I come back tomorrow?

I'm afraid not.

You won't be eligible again until next year.

Jeez, I can't believe I blew it.

Pepe, it's not your fault.

They are not going to give you another chance because you're Cuban.

Huh?

(all)

Because you're Cuban.

Ohh...

Because I'm Cuban.

But hath not a Cuban eyes?

Hath not a Cuban hands?

Organs?

Dimensions?

Senses?

Affections?

Passions?

Fed with the same food?

Hurt with the same weapons?

Subject to the same diseases?

Healed by the same means?

Warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as you are?

If you prick us, do we not bleed?

If you tickle us, do we not laugh?

If you poison us, do we not die?

Brilliant!

Absolutely brilliant!

That was the finest audition for the acting school that we've seen all week.

Congratulations.

I'm so glad Pepe has the opportunity to be an actor.

Why?

When was the last time you saw a Cuban Macbeth?

He'll get out of school and spend his whole career getting arrested on TV cop shows.

Ma, you don't see the bright side of anything, do you?

No.

But I can fake a smile.

Congratulations, Pepe.

I'm so happy for you.