06x12 - Ebbtide's Revenge

Complete collection of episode scripts for "The Golden Girls" seasons 1-7. Aired: September 1985 to May 1992.*
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Dorothy, Rose, Blanche and Sophia live together in Miami and experience the ups and downs of their golden years.
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06x12 - Ebbtide's Revenge

Post by 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" ♪

Rose, can you help me with this necklace?

Oh, sure.

Ugh, I'm so nervous.

Have you ever given a eulogy?

You mean at a funeral?

No, Rose, at a pie-eating contest.

Ugh, I just don't know what I'm gonna say.

Well, actually, I was asked to say a few words at Lenny Linderflot's funeral once.

Everybody thought we were good friends, 'cause all through school, he sat right in front of me because we were in alphabetical order.

But in reality, all I knew about Lenny was what the back of his head looked like.

So, what did you say?

"I loved the back of Lenny Linderflot's head.

"He had the back of the head of an honest man.

"And after seeing him face-up in the casket today, not a bad-looking guy either."
Thanks, Rose.

It's not exactly what I'd like to say about my brother, Phil.

I'm sorry.

I wish I could help.

Honey, you've been more than a help.

I wouldn't have gotten through the past few days without you.

I mean it.

Oh, stop.

So, what are you gonna say?

I don't know.

I just want to say a few words to give the man some dignity and show him a little respect.

Ready?

To run with the bulls in Pamplona?

Dorothy, you know this is my funeral dress.

I don't believe in wearing black, unless I'm a little bloated.

Oh, did you happen to notice if my mother's all right?

Oh, she's fine right now.

You know, last night she talked to me about the pain of losing a child.

I think that's got to be the most painful thing a mother can go through.

She's being a rock.

Maybe too much of a rock.

She's really keeping this all bottled up.

She's in shock.

The whole family's in shock.

I mean, a man goes out to buy himself an evening gown, you don't expect anything unusual, do you?

(both)

No.

Heart att*ck at his age.

I spoke to him just a couple weeks ago, he was fine.

He said he'd put on some weight, but to die trying on knockoffs at Big Gals Pay Less.

It's just all so sad.

Well, I'm all set.

What's with Satan's secretary?

Sophia, I believe Phil would have liked this dress.

Liked it?

He would have looked great in it.

I never understood why your brother wore women's clothes, unless he was q*eer.

People don't say "q*eer" anymore.

They say "gay." They say "gay" if a guy can sing the entire score of Gigi.

But a six-foot-three, 200-pound married man with kids who likes to dress up like Dorothy Lamour?

I think you have to go with q*eer.

Aw, Ma, I don't know.

I mean, he must have had some deep psychological need and cross-dressing provided an emotional outlet.

I may be old-fashioned, but why didn't he just drink?

Tell me, is Big Sally coming to the funeral?

Sophia, Phil's wife's name is Angela.

Why do you call her Big Sally?

Because she hates it.

Just as she probably hates that I talked Phil into being buried in the family plot.

He never should have married her.

She hates all of us.

Not true.

She hates you.

Oh, Ma, don't you think this feud between you and Angela has gone on long enough?

It's 26 years.

In Sicily that's not a feud.

In Sicily people scream at each other for centuries, and they throw pasta at each other.

Pasta and sauce.

Rich sauce with delicious seafood.

Mussels, shrimp...

Wait a minute.

I think I switched from feud to food.

He looks very peaceful and natural.

As natural as a man can look wearing a black teddy.

It's a beautiful teddy.

I think more men should be buried in teddies.

I've got to remember, it's not the clothes that make the man, it's the man that makes the clothes.

Oh, God, he looks like he d*ed in a Benny Hill sketch.

There's nothing we can do about it now.

Besides, it's probably what Phil wanted.

I'm gonna go check on Ma.

Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I don't see anything wrong with it.

Oh, thank you, Blanche.

This means a lot coming from a woman who wants to be buried dressed like a majorette.

Ma, do you want to come say goodbye to Phil?

I can't go up there, Dorothy.

Is that terrible?

Of course not.

Honey, you're doing what you can.

Does he look nice?

Yeah.

In a suit?

Not exactly.

A dress?

Not exactly.

Culottes?

Not in culottes - that would break my heart.

He's wearing a teddy.

But a masculine teddy.

Where is Big Sally?

Oh, Ma.

Her name is Angela.

Ma, I want you to make peace with her.

Hello, Dorothy.

Sophia.

Angela.

Dorothy.

I don't know if it was a good idea to have the funeral in Miami instead of Newark.

I just talked to the priest.

He doesn't know a thing about Phil.

He thinks Phil was some kinda crazy combination brain surgeon/astronaut.

Where would he get the idea that Phil had an IQ of 160?

Well, if your brother hadn't been stumped by long division...

Angela, about this teddy...

It's a beaut, isn't it?

No surprise, though.

Phil had great taste.

That's one of the things I loved about him the most from the beginning.

His sense of style.

We were married for 26 years and my family still talks about that wedding dress.

God, I wish I could wear a plunging neckline like that.

Why couldn't you bury him in a suit?

Because this is what he wanted.

You know, it hasn't been easy for me, Sophia.

It hasn't been easy.

Oh!

Ladies, I'd like to start the service soon.

Father Salerno, Angela was worried that my mother might have given you the wrong idea about what kind of man my brother Phil was.

Not to worry.

The good Lord has given me a sixth sense, so to speak.

I can tell a lot about a person just by looking at them.

He was special.

I'm sure.

What can I say about Philip Petrillo?

He was...

special.

Very special.

Yeah, a man doesn't get any more special than this.

Wait a minute, is this one of those hidden video things?

Huh?

No?

Sorry.

Yeah, I think special says it.

He knows Phil like a book.

No charge.

You all right, Sophia?

Why does everyone keep asking me that?

I'm OK.

I'm fine.

I don't want to talk about it.

You know, I saw a lot of this when I worked at the grief center.

You're angry about Phil's death and that's normal.

But you shouldn't be angry with Angela.

I think you haven't cried because you haven't accepted his death yet.

Thank you.

I've never been psychoanalyzed by a dipstick before.

I wonder who they are?

You mean you don't know them?

No.

Now this is awful.

What?

What's awful?

Well, isn't it obvious?

Veiled, shapely creatures, unknown to the family, coming to say one last secret goodbye to their special friend.

You mean...?

That's right.

Sluts.

I can't believe they came all the way from Newark.

You know them?

Phil tried to keep them a secret, but I knew he was spending his Thursday nights with them.

Oh, I know it's hard, but try not to hate 'em, my dear.

They're just lonely creatures who reached out to another person for a little warmth.

These are the guys from Phil's poker game.

This is too funny.

I have to get my camera from the car.

Angela, I wish you wouldn't rush right back to Newark after the funeral.

Stay at the house for a couple of days.

I gotta get back to work.

I was just promoted.

Chief make-over artist in the cosmetic department at Bamberger's.

Angela, Angela, this has to end.

You know, I don't think the family even knows what the fight was about.

I'll tell you what it was about - your mother hates me.

I'm sorry, Dorothy.

I've been invited to your mother's house twice in the past 26 years and that was quite enough.

Then why don't you come to my house?

Angela, please?

OK.

I'll come.

OK.

Maybe I could show Blanche how to correctly apply her makeup.

I'd like that.

Although she might be offended if I bring it up.

That's the part I like.

Angela.

Oh.

Folks, to begin this part of the service, Phil's sister, Dorothy, will say a few words.

Dorothy.

Please don't take this wrong, but I've got to know.

You are a girl, aren't you?

Seems like I'm always mad at my brother Phil.

I was mad the day my parents brought him back from the hospital.

I thought he'd take their love away from me, and...

instead, their love expanded and we felt more like a family.

I was mad at him when I was ten and he was four and we moved to a new neighborhood.

I was mad because he always made new friends more easily than I did.

And I'm mad today, because I never wanted to give the eulogy at my kid brother's funeral.

I'm mad because he d*ed.

He didn't have the wisdom to know that family members shouldn't allow themselves to grow apart.

Because when this day comes, they can no longer tell each other how they care.

If he'd had that wisdom, he could have shared it with me and I would have known the hundreds of memories I have of just the two of us - eating ice cream on the stoop of our building, or going through the drawers at Grandma's house, or dressing up like the Brontë sisters.

How those memories fill me with joy.

Why didn't you have that wisdom, Phil?

Why didn't you...

give us a chance to tell you how much we loved you?

Here we go.

Some nice snacks.

Ah, thank you, Rose.

Oh, look.

Here's one of Phil when he was 17.

Oh-ho-ho!

He looks so handsome.

Oh, I don't think I ever saw him in a tuxedo.

When was this, his prom?

Halloween.

Listen, Angela, what do you say that you and Ma and I have dinner tonight and, you know, clear the air a little bit.

Angela, please.

Hey, I'm willing.

But to tell the truth, I don't know what I did.

I also don't know how much more I can take of Sophia treating me this way.

Hi, everybody.

I'm back.


Hi, Ma.

Did you have a nice walk?

Yeah.

Ma, where'd you get the skateboard?

Oh, yeah.

I guess there's some kid at the park with an umbrella.

Ma, how would you like to go out to dinner tonight with Angela and me?

No.

Aw, come on, Ma.

This isn't an easy time for any of us.

Forget it, Dorothy.

I don't need her to be there for me.

The shame is she wasn't there for Phil.

When you wouldn't see me, you weren't seeing him.

On the holidays, when he would try to pretend that everything was OK, deep down, it k*lled him that he wasn't with his family.

My children really never got to know their grandmother because you didn't want to step foot inside my house.

Well, it wasn't just their loss, Sophia.

It was yours, too.

So whatever I did, or whatever you think I did, I hope it was worth all the pain.

You showed disrespect for our family, and family is sacred where I come from.

Phil knew how I felt.

You think it was easy for me?

I did what I had to do.

But what did I do?

You know very well what you did.

I swear, I don't.

Your dowry check bounced.

What dowry check?

Your father gave us a check for two million when we agreed to let you marry Phil.

Two million dollars for Phil?

Wasn't exactly a buyer's market, was it?

Not two million dollars.

It was lire.

With the exchange rate, it came to about $47.

But the check bounced anyway.

That is terrible!

I know.

I told Sal, "Get cash." It's terrible that that's what the fight was about.

My father offered a dowry, and Charlie wouldn't take it.

Oh, maybe that's because he knew eventually those beans would stop jumpin'.

Or maybe he just loved me.

Beans.

I'll have you know it was the biggest pumpkin of the season.

I don't know who I'm madder at - my father for thinking he had to pay a dowry, or you for lettin' this go on all these years for a lousy $47.

Nobody stiffs the Petrillos.

Fine.

You think your family was wronged?

Let me make it right.

Here.

Here's a check, we're even.

Now are you happy?

Can I see your driver's license and a major credit card, please?

It was an out-of-state check.

Angela, I'm sorry.

It's not your fault.

I'm calling the airlines.

I'm getting the next flight home.

No, please.

Angela, please.

Hang up the phone.

I don't want you to go like this.

There's nothing left to say.

My mother wants to apologize.

Then why didn't she come in?

She's shy.

Sophia is shy?

In an obnoxious sort of way.

Look, Angela, I have to get you and Ma to end this.

Not for you, not for me.

For Phil.

I realize now that I was wrong not doing it while he was still alive.

Now, come on, Angela, take the first step.

What is it gonna take?

She has to admit that she's a little witch without much sense when it comes to family matters, who takes pleasure in making other people miserable.

That wasn't so bad, was it?

Ma, she really likes you.

I think this whole thing can be fixed.

Forget it.

Ma, you know, when I think of Phil, you know what I think of?

His capacity to love.

You know, no matter what anyone did to Phil, he always gave back love.

And you know where he learned that, Ma?

From you.

Now, Ma, what's happening to you?

Oh, come on, please.

Won't you come into the kitchen?

Sure, as soon as she comes on her knees and begs my forgiveness.

I think she'd like that.

All right, the little witch is ready to apologize for everything.

She said that?

In her own old-world way, yes.

Come on.

What are you doing?

I thought we'd walk out on our knees.

Why?

Icebreaker?

She didn't apologize, did she?

Come on, now, I've had it, I've had it.

That's enough.

Come on.

Now, isn't somebody going to say something?

Ma?

Angela?

Fine.

I'll wait.

You know what I think?

That reindeer really know how to fly?

That's enough, Blanche!

I spent a lot of time at that grief center, and I know what I'm talking about.

Sophia, is that $47 the only thing that's bothering you?

It's a big part of it.

What else?

The dress thing.

Why didn't she stop the dress thing?

He's been doing that all his life.

That didn't start with me.

Oh, so it's my fault?

Are you worried that people will think it's your fault?

Oh, it's not like having a w*r hero in the family.

Angela, was he a good husband?

Yeah.

A good provider?

A good father for your children?

Yeah!

OK.

Now, I know no one wants to hear one of my stories right now.

That's usually a pretty safe bet, Rose.

But you need to know about my cousin Ingmar.

Ingmar was different.

He used to do bird imitations.

What's wrong with that?

Well, let's just say you didn't want to park your car under their oak tree.

No, Ingmar was different.

His mother used to say he brought shame to the house of Hausenfeffershtuledunker.

Anyway, you're all wondering where this story is going, so I'll skip the part where he ran up the stairs and down the stairs and up the stairs and down the stairs and up the stairs...

Rose, you're not skipping!

Sorry.

The point is, it was shame that kept Aunt Katrina from loving slow Ingmar.

And it ruined her life.

Oh, don't let that happen to you, Sophia.

Let go of the shame.

So what if he was different?

It's OK that you loved him.

I did love him.

He was my son.

My little boy.

But every time I saw him I always wondered what I did, what I said, when was the day that I did whatever I did to make him the way he was.

What he was, Sophia, was a good man.

My baby is gone.

Oh, Sophia.
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