Mike & Molly s02e14 Episode Script

Joyce's Choices

Chamomile and honey for my lady.
Beer and Clamato for me.
Thank you.
Why in the hell you drink that stuff? Right back at you.
Hey, you given any thought on what you like to do for our honeymoon? Kind of had my heart set on intercourse.
Obviously, that's contingent on how much I drink at the reception.
Oh, no.
You'll be putting out, pal.
It's my wedding night, and I plan on losing my virginity again.
Duly noted.
Now, I know its kinda cliché, but I was thinking honeymooning in Paris could be really romantic.
Paris, France? No, Mike.
Paris, Tennessee.
You jest, but it does have a mini Eiffel Tower and is home to the world's largest fish fry.
Why did I ever buy you that Eatin' Atlas of America? It's the best Christmas present I ever got.
It's my bible and my wish book.
And the most dog-eared piece of literature in the bathroom.
But I was thinking more of the European Paris.
Springtime, we're sitting at a sidewalk cafe, sipping little cups of chocolat Hey, if it's chocolate you're craving, we should just go to the belly of the beast.
Hershey, Pennsylvania.
It's an entire city dedicated to the magical cocoa bean.
Very tempting, but, um Paris has history and these amazing museums and beautiful architecture.
You know what you just described? Cleveland, Ohio.
They got the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame there, and it's shaped like a big guitar.
Good to know.
That's history, architecture and museum combined.
It's the Jell-O 1-2-3 of vacation spots.
All roads really do lead back to food for you, don't they? I just want to go somewhere special.
Then how about driving to Missouri and taking an old-timey paddleboat ride down the mighty Mississip? Sure, and when we drop anchor in Saint Louie, maybe we can go get a big old bucket of Ozark puddin'.
How'd you know about Ozark puddin'? Ah, I read.
Vince, drop it! I told you, he's an old friend, and we're having dinner! Not just any old friend, an old boyfriend! Ugh! Will you explain to this lunkhead that a woman is capable of being "just friends" with an old, former lover? Hey, if it didn't end with name calling and tire slashing, then the embers of desire are still smoldering.
Actually, Vince, I'm friends with almost all my exes.
Yeah, but they were all "swishes.
" How'd you put it, Mike? "Like the front row of a Cher concert"? I never used the word "swish"" I said "pansy"" Mom, who are you meeting, anyway? Remember Richard? Ooh, Richard.
Wow.
What does that mean, "Ooh, Richard.
Wow"? Nothing.
I forbid you to go out with Ooh Richard Wow! Oh, you forbid me? Well, that changes everything.
Don't wait up! Okay, you can go.
But I want you back here by 10:00! And your panties better not be in your purse! Don't be such an ass! You know I never wear panties with this dress.
Story of my life.
I give a woman my heart, and she says, "No thanks.
" Balls, please.
" Mike, say something.
Oh.
Sure.
Vince, when somebody says the word "chocolate," what city springs to mind? For the first time in my life I see love.
She expects me to believe that some old boyfriend calls her up out of the blue, and just wants to take her to dinner.
Who the hell does that? Well, Vince, human behavior has changed a lot since you slithered out of the ocean and lost your tail.
I don't even know what that means.
Was that a shot? Yes, it was.
It's not a big deal.
Mom and Richard dated a long time ago.
He was a pilot, she was working as a flight attendant.
I know what goes on between pilots and "stews.
" I've seen more than my share of pornography.
Ugh.
He's not wrong.
It is one of the more popular storylines.
Which I don't watch.
I'll bet at this very minute, she's helping that jet jockey into his full and upright position.
Vince, you're talking about my mother.
You're right.
Not for your ears.
Her mother's a sexual volcano.
Insatiable.
I can still hear you.
Apologies.
One time, we were at the Olive Garden, and she took her shoe off under the table Get him out of here.
Vince, let's go grab a beer.
And I don't know how she does it, but her big toe and second toe can form an almost perfect circle.
If I didn't know any better, I'd swear it was my own hand.
I should have locked Joyce in her closet, and then met that guy at the restaurant, swinging a rake.
You know, that's technically kidnapping and assault with a deadly weapon.
Oh, what are you gonna be tonight? A cop or a friend? I'm kind of feeling the need to be both.
Look, when you're in a relationship, you can't just forbid the other person from doing stuff.
Otherwise, it's guaranteed they're gonna do it.
That's just human nature.
What the hell are you talking about? Threats and ultimatums are the glue of love.
Without it, we're no better than animals.
In my experience, you have to have give and take.
Like this whole honeymoon thing with me and Molly.
She wants to go to Paris and I don't.
What do you got against Paris? It's beautiful.
Plus, if you can stomach pit hair on chicks, you can see free boobs on TV.
You should be a travel agent.
But I'm still not gonna risk my life flying half way across the world just to see free boobs.
That's where you and I differ.
I'd fly to Bangladesh to see a pair of knockers.
So what's the problem? You afraid of flying? No! But when I'm traveling, I like knowing if there's trouble, I can jump out of a window without plummeting to my death.
Can you imagine the size crater you'd make? Tourists could ride mules to the bottom.
What I'm saying is, I can't just say to Molly, "We're not going to Paris"" because then we'd definitely be going to Paris.
So you're telling me if I don't want Joyce to bang that guy, I should say, "Hey, Joyce, go bang that guy"? No, that's not even close to what I'm saying.
Then make your point and stop dancing around the subject like some kind of woman.
Look if you really care about Joyce, maybe try using a gentler approach.
Less shouting, more listening.
You mean, like "Joyce, love of my life, answer to my prayers, "if I find out you're banging that flyboy, I'll kill all three of us.
" You know, I think this is why we don't hang out more.
So did you and Mike figure out a honeymoon spot yet? Well, I'm still hoping for a pied-àterre in Paris, but he's still pushing for a pop-up camper in the backyard.
I would say try and meet in the middle, but I can't imagine where that would be.
I'm starting to think he's not too keen on flying.
Every time I bring it up, he turns all pale and clammy.
He gets the same way when I ask who ate all my Chips Ahoy.
Yeah, pale and clammy is kind of his tell.
Mine's whistling.
You are a nervous whistler.
Hey, what if you cured his fear of flying with hypnosis? And while he's under, tell him my cookies are actually rattlesnakes.
Hey.
There she is.
And home by 10:30.
How was your date? What are you talking about? It wasn't a date! It was dinner.
Nothing more.
Sorry.
Every time you go out to dinner, is it a date? Yes, but not with every date do I get dinner.
Yeah, well, this was just dinner.
We ate, we caught up, I got the hell out of there.
Okay, fine.
Why don't you worry about your own lives? God.
Two grown women with nothing better to do than gossip about their mother while sucking down her wine! Wow, what's up with her? Hard to say.
Having dinner with an old boyfriend can be very emotional.
Especially when they slide an STD pamphlet across the table.
Morning.
Morning, sweetheart.
You want some breakfast? No.
I don't want to put you out.
Besides, I'm pretty sure those are your eggs.
Oh, that.
Well.
You know how nasty I get when I drink rum.
I'm like a pirate that way.
Except louder, meaner, and no parrot.
I apologize.
Now, let Mommy make you an omelette? Thanks.
You're welcome, sweetheart.
Look, I'm not trying to pry or anything, but did everything go all right with you and Richard last night? What are you implying? Nothing, I'm just worried about you.
When the hell are you gonna get your own house, anyway? I think I'll pass on the omelette, Red Beard.
Excuse me while I go answer your door.
Yeah, damn right it's my door.
And it's my toilet! Tell your boyfriend other people in this house have to poop, too! Hey, Vince.
Please excuse my showing up unannounced.
I just wanted to stop by and give these flowers to your mother.
I'll make sure she gets them.
I got a friend in Little Armenia who gives me a deal.
That's why they smell like grilled lamb and Drakkar Noir.
What are you doing here? Come to check up on me? Golly, no.
I suppose you want to know what time I got home.
No, I do not.
I trust you implicitly.
- 3:00 A.
M.
- What are you talking about? Your car pulled in the driveway at 10:30, and you were lights out by 11:15.
You were spying on me? No! I gave the old lady across the street 20 bucks to do it.
She's got her own night-vision goggles.
I can't live like this! If this ring is a tracking device, then I don't want it! Mom.
What's going on? Oh, everybody needs an update.
Here's the headline.
I'm giving this sneaky little weasel his walking papers! Mom, what has gotten into you? Nobody's gotten into me! Now, if Officer Cop-A-Squat is done warming my toilet seat, I'd like to take a shower and get on with my new life! I lit a candle.
Hey, you snoopy old witch! You want to spy on me? Spy on this! God, I hope it's just her ass.
I hate to say it, but if this behavior continues, we should really consider putting Mom in a nursing home.
Victoria.
I'm talking about a nice one, with activities and a pool.
That way, when we visit her in the summer, we can lay out and tan.
Actually, I was thinking we could just take her out tonight, have a few drinks, see what's going on.
Smart.
Get her drunk so she'll sign the power of attorney papers and climb into the back of the senior shuttle on her own.
Hey.
Hey, sweetie.
Your mom and Vince make up yet? Nope.
She called him and told him to come and pick up his kimono and boner pills.
Ugh.
You see that combination coming down the stairs one time, you'll be seeing it in your dreams.
Again, thanks for covering my eyes.
It's too bad he and your mom can't work this out.
Well, communication's the key.
That's the only way a relationship can survive.
Couldn't have put it better myself.
You know, if there's ever anything bothering you, you can always tell me.
Insecurities, phobias, whatever.
Good to know.
I'm only asking 'cause I'm starting to think the idea of flying somewhere on our honeymoon is spooking you.
Spooking me? I'm a Chicago police officer.
We're known far and wide as The Unspookables.
Where you going? I'm gonna lay down.
I'm feeling a little woozy.
I don't think you're going to Paris.
Not unless I can get Big Clammy in a kayak.
This is fun.
Three Flynn gals out for a night on the town.
Why don't we do this more often? Because it's cheaper to get drunk at home, and Mom can take her pants off.
Right, right.
Did you hear that, Mom? Yeah, I heard it.
Sorry about you and Vince.
Me, too.
Thanks.
You doing okay? Yep.
Just want to have a quiet drink and not talk about it.
Fine by me.
So, here's a funny thing.
Uh, Mike, the big lug, is completely panic-stricken to get on an airplane.
Oh, my God, what have I done?! Mom, it's okay.
I'm a terrible person! No, you're not.
Being engaged to one guy and sleeping with another guy doesn't make you a terrible person, it just makes you a slutty person.
What are you talking about?! I didn't sleep with Richard.
He wanted me to, but I told him I was engaged.
So wait, nothing happened? I kissed him, okay? On the winky? What?! No, not on the winky! What kind of woman do you think your mother is?! Sorry, I just assumed it was hereditary.
So that's it? Just a kiss? Nothing else? Okay.
You want all the dirty details? Absolutely.
Sure.
We kissed, there was a little tongue and maybe a few seconds of over-the-sweater "good morning, Tokyo.
" I don't know what that is.
Old men like to fiddle with your boobs like it's a radio.
Well, that's more disturbing than cheating.
Yeah, I never count over the sweater.
You never count under the skirt.
Hand, no.
Head, yes.
The point is, I kissed another man, so I got no business being engaged to Vince.
More to the point, you stopped kissing another man because you're engaged to Vince.
Yeah, that makes you practically Superwoman.
Once I got a fella's tongue in my mouth, it's on till dawn.
I did stop myself, didn't I? Mm-hmm.
Of course, his comb-over and man girdle helped influence my decision.
Well, whatever it takes.
But you did the right thing; You should be proud of yourself.
I guess the thing to do now is to tell Vince.
- No! No! - No! You out of your mind? You take that to your grave.
Keep talking crazy like that, we're gonna put you in a home.
A nice one with a pool.
You know, I don't understand what you're so afraid of.
Air travel is the safest form of transportation.
And I don't understand why you flap your arms and scream like a little girl when you see a spider the size of a pinto bean.
Oh, I love Carl's itsy bitsy spider dance.
For your information, flapping your arms and making loud noises is how you scare those nasty bastards away.
You are thinking of grizzly bears.
Spiders you just flick off the table or casually step on.
That doesn't always work.
They'll hide in the crevice of your shoe, crawl up your pant leg and lay eggs in your ear.
Just I'd rather have a tarantula hotel in my head than be hurled through the air in chitty-chitty crash-crash.
My big fear is nuns and clowns.
And one time I saw a clown dressed as a nun.
Nearly soiled my dashiki.
Oh, man, a clown dressed as a nun? That's like a fever dream.
More like a wrong turn on gay pride day.
And if you add hot pants and roller skates to that picture, you will sleep with the lights on for the rest of your life.
All right, nothing left to remember me by but a hair dye stain on her pillow and enough DNA on the bedspread to clone an army of Morantos.
Well, uh, best of luck, Vince.
I'm really gonna miss you around here.
I guess this means I won't be attending your wedding.
But at least one of us will get to stick his flag in a Flynn girl.
I'm sorry it didn't work out.
No more words! Just hold me, you big bastard! Oh, Vince, you're still here.
On my way out.
And once you spray a little Zout on the pillowcase, I am but a distant memory.
I got something I need to tell you, and I'm not gonna feel right until I do.
Mom.
What are you doing? Just being honest with the man.
Let me have it.
I care about you very much, and I never want to hurt you.
Where are you going with this? - I got it.
- Okay.
You deserve to know the truth.
And I can't go on living with this.
Mom Shh! Vincent Moranto I want you to come live with me.
What?! We're engaged! There's absolutely no one else I'm interested in, plus your waterbed makes me nauseous.
Hey, in '88, that was top of the line.
Cost me 600 bucks.
Yeah, well, it makes my ass sweat and it smells like grilled lamb.
Why didn't you tell me you hated it? We shouldn't have secrets.
What else aren't you telling me? That's it.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Why don't we go upstairs and unpack your things.
Whatever you say, my angel.
Clean up after you're done.
I don't like waking up to a mess.
You want to tell me what really went on with your mom? Yeah, you heard her.
She wants him to live here.
And we think it's great.
Mm-hmm.
We do? Yeah, we do.
Mm.
Listen, I think we need to talk about our honeymoon.
Okay.
What are you thinking? A dude ranch where we cook our own cow? No.
Although, Wilbur, Wyoming is a beautiful slice of heaven.
Mike, I don't care where we go.
Only thing I care about is that we're together.
Well, I've heard Paris is lovely in the springtime.
Paris France? You know we can't drive there.
I know.
It's a pretty long flight.
I get it.
In an airplane.
Stop talking about it.
I feel like I got spiders in my ears.
Aw, baby, you're the greatest.
Kimono boner! Listen, I'm making sardines on toast.
Any takers? We're good! Maybe we should keep that Paris money and start saving for a place of our own.
Or at least buy him a longer robe.

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