02x14 - I've Got a Secret

Episode transcripts for the TV show "The Nanny". Aired: November 1993 to June 1999.*
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After being fired from her job she is mistakenly hired to care for the family of a widowed Broadway producer.
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02x14 - I've Got a Secret

Post by bunniefuu »

Fran thinks this is scary?
Some Egyptian guy wrapped up in Charmin?

This is so woosie.

Boo!

Oh, I used to love doing
that to Ma. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Thank God for plastic slip covers.

Oh, Gracie, honey, isn't this
a little too intense for you?

No, I'm fine with this.
It's " Minutes" I can't take.

Do you know what goes on in
a chicken processing plant?

Your pizza. / Yummy.

I'm so glad we ordered from this place.
Not only do they give you extra cheese,

but you get a free beverage. Humm.

Okay. Dig in.

I only want one slice. / Me too.
Pizza is very fatening.

Fran, that's two. / No, honey,
not when you eat it like this.

The body doesn't know.

This is so bogus. Horror films today
are much more realistic.

Oh, right. Whenever I'm in a cabin in
the woods, the first thing I do is just

rip off my top and start
dancing the frug.

You know, we should go camping.

In classic horror films,
v*olence is never shown.

I believe it was Alfred
Hitchcock who said,

"There's nothing more frightening
than an unopened door."

Niles, show our visitor to
the guest room, would you.

Right this way.
/ Thank you ...

Good night, Miss Fine.

Good night, Miss Fine? Is there
something you'd like to tell me?

Ah, pleasant dreams. See you
in the morning. What?

Oh, I don't know.
How was your day? The weather?

King Tut in the trench coat?

I'd rather not discuss that
if you don't mind.

We simply have a house guest who's
recovering from some surgery.

Oh, I get it. Some hot-sh*t celeb.
A little nip, a little tuck.
Hush, hush; right?

Absolutely. / Well, smart you.
The less who know the better.

We'll just keep it between us.
All right, dish ...

What does hell freezing over
have to do with -- Oh

Good night, Miss Fine.

I can't believe you trust me
to take care of your children;

you trust me to mail
important documents ...

And you don't trust me with
one little itty-bitty secret?

That about sums it up. / So you're
not going to tell me who she is?

She is none of your business.
/ She -- all right. I know it's a woman.

And I know she's definitely
not a redhead.

How do you know she's not a redhead?
/ Aha!

Not a redhead. Mr. Sheffield, you're in way
over your head. You might as well just tell me.

Look, all you've succeeded in doing
is strengthening my resolve.

I'm not saying another word.
/ Oh ...

Hello. Hold on.

It's Larry Fortenski on the phone.

Oh, all right. I'll take it in the office.
/ Okay, okay. Ah, Liz.

Say hello to your mother for me.

Hi, Ma.

Hi, Miss Babcock.

Maxwell isn't here, and if it's about
the children, I'm not interested.

And if it's about you,
I'm really not interested.

I just came in for a little girl talk.
/ With me?

Yeah. We're both women.
I don't care what Niles says.

So tell me, who does
he got up in that room?

It's just k*lling you, isn't it,

that Maxwell and I have little secrets
that you know nothing about.

He didn't tell you either.

No. That tight-lipped
little sconehead.

It's because we're women. / It's outrageous.
Men think they can't trust us.

Well, it's insulting.
Did you check the safe?

It's the first place I looked.

Oh, boy, this is just like
"Mission Impossible."

Remember when the little Japanese
ballerina would peel off her face

and it would be Martin Landau?

Oh, oh, I have located
the black box. / Oh ...

His lap-top computer. I can't believe
he just leaves this lying around.

Miss Babcock ... Babs, baby ...

Babby, honey.

No, no, it's all right.
I do this all the time.

How do you think I know where
he is every minute of the day.

Now what was his pass word?
/ Busted?

No, Maxwell, never -- oh, oh, oh, oh,
Maxwell. Thank God you're here.

I was just looking for the,
the (inaudible) file, and

oh, I remember where
I left that.

Stay out of the guest room.
/ Ha, ha, ha.

Oh, boy, you know, you'd think
she'd have better things to do

with her time than riffling
through your stuff.

So, what brings you here,
Miss Fine?

Oh -- / No problem
with the children?

Oh, no. Kids are wonderful.

Household running okay?
/ Oh, like clockwork.

Anything on fire? / No, no.

Then get out.

You probably think that I'm snooping
around like Miss Babcock.

Well, let me just tell you something.
It's pretty sad a man in your position

doesn't even know who
he can trust.

Well, it can't be Lonnie
because she's in court.

It can't be Melanie Griffith
because she's in court;

Kristy Brinkly, court;
court; court; rehab.

Baby born with antler.

Wow, that sounds like
the episiotomy from hell.

Hi, everybody. / Brighten Sheffield,
what have you got there?

Oh, no, not another pet.
/ What? I'm good with animals.

Well, let's see. There were the gold fish,
the hamsters, the white mice, the turtle.

Our back yard is practically
a pet boot hill.

Meanwhile, the roses were
gorgeous this year.

Oh, look, Brighten's
got a bird.

Poly want an afterlife?

Hey, my friend Justin has
to get rid of it.

It's supposed to talk, but all it
says is "Raymond loves Lola."

Does it deserve to die for that?

Niles, Raymond is Justin's dad.
Lola is the upstairs' maid.

Ah ... / Uh-huh.

Oh, well, I bet they were bouncing more
than quarters on those sheets.

Now, where was I? Oh, look,

Roseanne threw a party to burn
her Tom tattoo off her butt.

What does one serve
at a thing like that?

I don't know. But at my Cousin Steven's
bris they served tri-tip.

Niles, that's what you're
serving to a celebrity for lunch?

Give her a sandwich.
/ This is a sandwich.

She has to eat everything
through a straw.

It's vile. Think "Silence
of the Lambs." Pssss.

You know what? Let me bring it up to her.
I'm used to that sound.

You've obviously never seen
my father working a chicken neck.

Nice try, Miss Fine.

Well, you know, Niles, I mean it's one thing
for Mr. Sheffield to keep a secret from me,

but to give you such a slap
in the face. If I were you,

I would walk myself right into his office
and demand that he tell you who's up there,

really loud.

Miss Fine, unlike you,
I don't care who it is.

Oh, you know.

You bet ya, baby.

Why would he tell you and not me?

Because Niles wasn't caught leading
a Conga line with my filing cabinet.

You know, I knew you misread that.
That was static cling.

What is it with women, Niles? They always
want to know what isn't their business

so they can share it with other women
whose business it also isn't.

Oh, if that isn't the most sexist
thing I have ever heard.

Like men don't gamp. / Miss Fine,
men aren't interested in gossip.

Absolutely not. I tuned out when the Turnbolt's
butler told me about the little chippie
the master has on the side.

Niles, that's old news. It was all
over the steam room months ago.

Including the fact that he's put her up
in an apartment in Tr*mp Tower.

Umm, but fo they also know he had
the entire thing done in leather? / No?

Which one of your girls is
getting the bikini wax?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. Did you call me?

Good. You're sleeping.

Ssshhh ... Ssshhh ...

La-la-by, and good night.

You're too short to be
Candice Bergen.

Ummmmm ... rule out Dolly Parton too.

Ssshhh ... Ssshhh ... You know,
you're very brave. Surgery's not for me.

I'll stick with my thigh cream.
It tingles cellulite away.

I don't know if it works,
but I don't hate it.

Fran ...
/ You scared me.

Did you find out
who it is yet?

Honey, what did
I tell you about snooping?

That there should
always be a lookout.

Good. Go wait in the hall.
/ Right.

Let's take a look at your eyes.

Hum ... Brown ...

Let's just see your mouth.

It's not a straw.

Oh, honey, what were you worried
about your looks for?

That tickles.

Miss Fine!

Oh, yeah. Temperature's normal.
Drink plenty of fluids.

What do you think you're doing here?
/ Ummmm ...

Daddy's coming?
/ Right.

What do you have to say for yourself?
/ Well, I hope you don't think this is my fault.

Oh, of course not. Of course not.
It's my fault.

Well, I forgive you. Now let's
get on with our lives.

You may not have one much longer.

Well, none of this would have happened
if you had just told me who she was.

Cher.

Well, sharing is what it is all about.

Cher. / No. Don't tell me.

Talk to him. I give and give.

You know, she's really
very good with children.

But do you think that earns his trust?
No. He still won't tell me who you are.

Cher.

I heard you.

Are you sure it wasn't
a head injury?

Grammie, Emmy, Oscar.

Rita Moreno?

Maggie stuffs her bra.

Maggie stuffs her bra.

Come on, say it. / Master Brighten,
stop torturing that bird.

It's very cruel.

Yeah, I think he's having a better day than
that cornish hen you've got your fist in.

All right. Let's pick up
where we left off.

Miss Babcock's embezzling.
Miss Babcock's embezzling.


Of course, I can't believe Cher
sucked on my finger.

Just listen, carefully, Miss Fine.
Cher trusts me to keep this thing quiet.

Oh, you know who would just die
if they found out Cher was here?

You will, Miss Fine. You will die
if anyone finds out.

My cousin Ira is her biggest fan.

He does an impersonation of her in
a drop-dead gorgeous Bob Mackey gown.

I'll tell you, why she's a star and
he's a kosher butcher --

Oh, I guess it's all who you know.
/ Cousin Ira?

Hey, he's the best female impersonator
to come out of Queens. No pun intended.

Miss Fine, please, just, just promise me
you won't say a word about this to anyone.

Will you calm down.
I can keep a secret.

Who am I going to tell?
/ Hi, Fran.

I can't tell.
/ Tell me what?

Who the celebrity is recovering from
surgery up in the guest bedroom.

So stop hounding me.

All right.
So can I have a soda too?

Well, there's only one left.
We'll have to share.

What's wrong with you? / Nothing, nothing.
Can we please change the subject?

So, tell me, have your parents
gotten that time-share yet?

No. They decided
they didn't like Florida.

Why? The weather's
so nice and sunny.

It was a bad neighborhood.

Full of Gypsies,
tramps, and thieves?

Oh, my God. It's Cher.

Who told you?

Oh, wow, the house is
surrounded by reporters.

Well, I wouldn't
say surrounded.

They're just on three sides and
the second floor balcony.

I can't believe dad didn't tell us
Cher was staying here.

How'd the press find out? / Oh, who knows.
Probably somebody blabbed to some friend.

Who is about to die.

Back, back, you turn of
the sticks born of Satan.

Thank you very much and
have a nice day.

One must be firm but never rude.

Niles, I think you -- I think you left
Miss Babcock out there. / Oh, did I?

Niles!
/ Oh, there she is.

Miss Fine!
/ Are you speaking to me?

Miss Fine! You've got
some splaining to do.

Oh, Mr. Sheffield, I'm sure you think
I have something to do with that,

but they could have found out in
a million different ways.

Such as? / Um, ah ...

Hey, guys, the bird's finally talking.
/ Not now, Brighten.

Well, don't ignore the children.
You know, it's always business with you.

So are you going to talk for us?
Speak, pretty bird. Pretty bird.

Well, it's Cher.

Val, I can't believe you blabbed.

I only told one person.
/ Who?

My priest, Father Baretta.

That yenta?

Was he wearing his collar?
/ Ah, no.

Val, how many times do I have to tell you.
When they don't wear their collar,

it's like they have their fingers
crossed behind their back.

This is just like being called
into the principal's office.

All right, all right.
Here's what we're going to do.

It'll be just like in high school.
I'll make up the story. You stick to it.

I was supposed to stick to it?

I'm going to get suspended.

Sit.

I am most disappointed
in you two ladies.

That's it, Val. We're not going
to get into college.

So you find this amusing, Miss Fine?
/ No, Mr. Sheffield.

I expected more from you two.

Tears won't work in this office,
Miss Torello.

He's going to call my mother.

Mr. Sheffield, please, let her go.
It was all my fault.

I'll take the wrap. Again.

Thanks, Fran.
I gotta go to confession.

No names.

I just don't know what to say.

Thanks to you, Cher is a virtual
prisoner in this house.

Mr. Sheffield, if I told you

that I had a way to solve everything,
would you forgive me?

Yes.

Got any ideas?

All right, Ladies and
Gentlemen of the press,

Cher has agreed to
this photo opportunity

in the hopes that you might finally
agree to leave her alone.

All right. Thank you very much.
Thank you.

Pardon me. Pardon me. Excuse me..
/ This better work.

Would you relax? My Cousin Ira will
do a few bits from his act.

Before the press get wise,
Cher will be out the kitchen door

and back to pushing detangler on QVC.

Honey, is Cousin Ira ready?
/ He's dressed like a lady.

Oh, I know. And I'll explain
everything later. Thank you ...

What?

Oh, I was just thinking,
before you came into my life,

I never had the need for
an emergency tr*nsv*stite.

I'm telling you, Cousin Ira is going to
be the perfect distraction.

It can't fail.

Besides, there's no time
to think of anything else.

What was the last place
he passed for Cher? Sea World?

Oh, well, Cher just had surgery.

We'll tell them she's
still on cortizone.

Well, the press certainly
loved Cousin Ira.

You know, my Aunt Reni makes
all of his costumes.

That dong he was wearing,
used to be their hammock.

Yes, he was riveting. Especially
the part where his leotards failed.

Oh, I know, I mean, I've heard of
runs but never a blow-out.

Well, at least Cher got out
safe and sound.

Yeah. Although I'm afraid Cousin Ira's
having one hell of a time hailing a cab.

All is well that ends well. Hey?
/ Yeah.

I just hope you finally learned your lesson
about the consequences of idle female gossip.

Excuse me, sir. Mr. Turnbolt to see you.
/ Raymond, what on earth are you doing here?

My son wants his bird back. Oh, and by the way,
I hope the press wasn't too much of an inconvenience?

Press? / Yes, I'm the one
that tipped them off.

You knew Cher was staying in the house?
/ Yeah. Max told me in the steamroom.

You promised not to tell.

And you promised not to tell about
my girl friend in Tr*mp Tower.

I guess that makes us square.

Well, um,

good night, Miss Fine.
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