The Nanny s01e18 Episode Script

Well, tomorrow's opening night and we are completely sold out! Thank God Miss Fein has a large family.
Now all we all we need is some good reviews and I think we might just have another hit on our hands.
Well, I have sent gift baskets to every critic in town.
Are you telling me you're bribing the critics? Trying to buy us a good review? Good thinking.
Oh, Mr.
Sheffield, my entire family is so excited about being invited to opening night.
They want twelve chicken dinners, two prime ribs and two Kosher meals if it's not too much trouble.
Nanny Fein, this is not dinner theatre.
No food? Oy, big mistake.
If you feed them, they will come.
Well, if your relatives won't come without a feed bag, I'll be happy to give them their money back and sell their tickets on the street.
I'll drop you off at your usual corner.
Miss Fein, I can assure you, your relatives are gonna love the play.
It's a brilliant post-modern exploration of despair.
No food and despair? Geez, it sounds like my Weight Watchers meeting.
Niles, what's all this? Well, I knew you and Miss Grace were going to the park.
I thought you might like to take a little picnic.
/ Oh, you doll you.
The refrigerator's broken and if we don't eat it, it's garbage.
Tattle-tale.
Well, it sure beats hangin' out on the fire escape with a can of franks and beans.
You had your picnics on the fire escape? Hey, with that menu, we were better off outside.
Niles, my little Chester's hungry.
Make him something.
Poof.
You're a doberman.
Attack.
Oh, Chester, I haven't seen you in such a long time.
Nanny Fein, please.
He doesn't like strangers.
C.
C.
, how come your dog hates you? Well, after all, he is a male.
Not for long.
She must get a group rate.
Niles, what's this basket doing here? It was supposed to go to Frank Bradley, the critic.
It did.
He sent it back with a snide note saying that he couldn't be bought and if he could, he'd cost more than a tin of smoked oysters.
There has got to be some way to get to Frank Bradley.
I know a Frank Bradley.
He's in my arts and crafts class.
Maybe that's his son.
/ He said my ashtray was derivative.
That's him.
/ Oh, I was the queen of arts and crafts.
Then one day I left my favorite brush in the shellac and it hardened overnight.
I just walked away.
Never looked back.
I have a fun idea.
Why don't we call up Frank Junior and invite him to go to the park with you? Because I hate him.
He's a big bully.
He's always teasing me and calling me names.
Oh, you know what they say.
Sticks and stones can break my bones, but bad reviews can kill you.
Miss Babcock, she doesn't like the kid.
You want her to play with someone she doesn't like? Well, if I had to like every one of my friends, I wouldn't have any.
I'll flip you for it.
Grace dear, Frank's father is going to review our play on television and he can either make it a big hit or a big flop.
She doesn't play well under pressure.
/ I'm shutting down.
All right, I'll do it myself.
You must have that kid's number somewhere.
Where's all that school junk you're always bothering Maxwell with? Would it be on the Pa-Tah phone list? That's P.
T.
A.
, Mother Hubbard.
Ah! Here it is.
Pa-Tah.
Ha, ha.
Hello, is this Mr.
Bradley? We haven't met, but your little Frank is in the same class as my Gracie.
I'm not here.
Am I? / No, angel.
You don't shed your skin.
It is such a beautiful day and we were wondering if little Frank would like to go to the park with Grace.
Marvelous! You know, there is a brilliant theatre critic by the name of Frank Bradley .
You are!? Oh, can that woman ever suck up.
If she came with attachments, we could throw out the Hoover.
C'mon, Gracie, move it along.
Freeze.
There's been a change of plans.
You're taking Frank Bradley, Jr.
to the park.
Forget it.
We're goin' to the park by ourselves.
I forbid it.
/ Forbid? Is that the "F" word I hear? That's the "F" word? What's the big deal? Who's the nanny here, anyway? / I was there when this child was born.
Where were you? In high school.
Ladies, ladies.
Isn't there a more grown-up way to settle your differences? I'm thinking mud wrestling.
Actually, there is a more grown-up way.
I'm telling Maxwell on you.
/ Not if I get there first.
.
Frank! Block her! Well, of course we'd love to have Mayor Guiliani there opening night.
But but please ask him to leave his son at home.
All right, Thigh Master! Mr.
Sheffield, would you please explain to Miss Babcock that I am in charge of the children! Well, of of course you're in charge.
And if Gracie doesn't want to play with a little boy she doesn't have to! / No, of course not.
Miss Babcock, come in.
It's Frank Bradley's son.
On the other hand .
/ What? Well, it it might be good for Grace to play with him.
But she doesn't like him.
Well, how does she know she doesn't like him if she doesn't spend any time with him? Ooh, that's good.
It it's important for Grace to learn how to get along with all kinds of different people even people she doesn't particularly care for.
Too bad we didn't have this conversation out in the garden.
The plants would have loved the fertilizer.
C'mon, Frank.
Don't shoot at the birds.
Oy.
Pow! Pow! Pow! You call this a park? I find it dull.
The scenery's totally lacking in imagination.
Why did we have to bring him? Well, the more the merrier.
Except when you're talkin' about chins.
My Aunt Miriam had more chins than the Chinese phone book.
That joke's so old I heard it on the "Flintstones.
" Which, by the way, was a pale imitation of "The Honeymooners.
" His father is a critic.
It's hereditary.
I'm bored.
Give me some food to feed the squirrels.
You don't need food.
Just lie down and make believe you're dead.
Oy, does that kid have a mouth on him or what? Does he take after his father? / Who knows? I met his father for five minutes and that was enough.
Apparently.
/ I didn't want him.
Next thing I knew he was on his way and now I'm stuck with him.
I'm just furious with Mr.
Sheffield.
The little boy's father? / No, the little girl's father.
The little boy's is Mr.
Bradley.
/ You call them both Mister? Well, I don't really know either of them that well.
/ What!? Oh, you think that me and them are their ? Oh, I'm the nanny.
Hey, Frank, don't aim that at her Good boy.
You're very patient.
Maybe I should get a nanny.
Oh, you really should, with one baby and another one on the way.
And two more at home.
/ Oh, honey, you don't need a nanny, you need a hobby.
Stop it! You're makin' her bald! Hey, Frank.
Quit it.
There's no hair club for dolls.
Frank, did you hear me? Are you going to make me walk over there? He's gonna make me walk over there.
Frank, get him off me! Oh, Calgon, take me away.
Giddiyap, little donkey.
/ Fran! He's pulling my hair! Frank! Get off of her before I count to three.
One.
Two.
Two and a half.
Two and three quarters.
/ Three! Three! Three! Oh! Frank! / Ooooohhhh!!! You hit me! / I did not.
Did so! I'm going to tell my father on you! Oh, I'm really shakin'.
What's he gonna do? I hear your boss has a new play coming up.
Who are you, Siskel and Ebert? Niles, have you seen my yellow note pad with all my notes on it? Not recently, Sir.
Where did you have it last? Why do people always ask that? If I remembered where I had it last, I'd go there and get it.
Not bother you about it, wouldn't I? The mantle.
I was pacing and I left it on the .
Niles, you're a genius.
Honored to be "The Wind Beneath Your Wings," Sir.
Hi.
We're back.
/ How was the park? Oh, you know, birds, trees, muggers.
The usual.
Tell me, sweetheart, did you and Frank Junior have a good time together? We hit it off.
We broke bread.
Oh I'm glad.
I I really appreciate you doing this because, well, you know, Bradley's father's review could really make or break our play, and we've worked so hard on it.
I mean, it's not just me.
I mean, there's all kinds of jobs at stake.
The cast, crew, ushers, Old Pops at the stage door.
Oh, forgot Old Pops.
Telephone, Sir.
It's Mr.
Bradley.
Probably calling to try and steal you away.
/ Oh, well, I might be available.
Hello, Frank .
What? Well .
I I'm teribly sorry.
I .
Well, th there must be some mistake.
No.
No.
Frank, there's absolutely no reason to bring any lawyers into this.
Frank Frank! Hello? Hello!? You wouldn't hurt the woman carrying your child, would you? All right.
I I'm trying to stay calm.
That's good, because you are entering those dangerous heart attack years.
Miss Fein, you struck a child? / Struck a child? Oh, God, let it be Grace.
It was it was little Frank Bradley.
Miss Fein hit him with a baguette.
She nailed him.
Ka-pow! Don't help, honey.
You can't nail someone with a baguette, unless it's stale, of course.
Or or sour dough.
Or a nicce hard crouton aimed at the Adam's apple.
Do you have any idea what you've done? Well, it's been a very busy day.
Can you be more specific? I'll tell you what we'll do.
We'll invite Mr.
Bradley and his son over so Miss Fein can apologize to them.
So even though the kid deserved it, I'm gonna have to beg and and grovel and and completely debase myself? / Miss Babcock will show you how it's done.
I don't think a gift basket is gonna get us out of this one.
I may have to offer myself.
Might as well close the play now.
Don't touch that door.
Is it just me, or does he need a vacation? We're conserving the cold until that wretched repairman gets here.
Now tell me what you want.
You get one request.
Um, milk.
/ Yogurt.
Miss Grace? / I'm not that hungry.
Suit yourself.
But I warn you.
The door won't open again until six o'clock.
Okay.
Pudding.
Two seconds.
That's a new personal best.
This isn't pudding.
This is cocktail onions.
Well, I'd make you a martini, but the ice is melted.
I know these measures may seem a bit harsh, but in order to ensure that no more food spoils, the refrigerator doors must remain shut at all times.
Pew! Niles, something smells like it died in here.
/ Oh, Miss Fein? All right.
I'll have a bagel.
Get back.
She's armed.
/ Put the bagel down and step away from the bread box.
This is all your fault, Niles.
You had to have that stupid baguette.
Baguettes don't hurt people.
People hurt people.
I can't believe Mr.
Sheffield is making me do this.
What are you complaining about? All you have to do is apologize.
I have to make the refreshments.
Thank you, Niles.
It's so nice to know that we're in on this together.
Well, meanwhile, the caviar is sweating, the Brie is running and my croutotae's limp.
You know, they got an operation for that now.
I can't believe that you're making me apologize for something when I really didn't do anything wrong.
Look, Miss Fein, if you really didn't do anything wrong, just smile and be charming and nice and lie through your teeth.
Oh, well, if you put it that way, I suppose I can make believe that I'm at a tax audit.
Hello, hello.
Maxwell, this is Frank Bradley.
Well, of course.
It is good to meet you, Frank.
/ Hello, Sheffield.
Oh, I I do apologize for this whole ugly mess.
I feel terrible.
Really? I thought you'd be used to disasters by now.
You certainly have produced enough of them.
Oh, there's that Bradley wit.
Oh, and you must be Frank Junior.
Nice to meet you, young man.
Your hand's sweaty.
Nervous? What a charming little snot ah, tot.
Miss Fein, don't you have something you want to say to Mr.
Bradley and his son? Yeah, but then I'd have something else to apologize for.
Miss Fein! / Oh, all right.
Okay.
Mr.
Bradley, things might have gotten a little out of hand at the park and whose ever fault it was, not mine, I suppose I would be sorry.
Well, that's that then.
A heartfelt apology.
Shall we? Well, I think it needs some work.
What do you think, son? It left me cold much like Robert Goulet in "Cyrano.
" That's my boy.
How fast they grow up.
Soon he'll be closing plays and destroying careers.
You must be very proud.
Well, I'd love to stand here and grovel, but I'm afraid I have to walk the dog.
Chester! C'mon, boy.
C'mon, boy.
It's all right.
Yes.
Where do you wanna go? Oh, Pomerania.
Well, I'll get my coat.
That dog's ugly.
It's got beedy little eyes and a pointy little nose.
He looks like her.
They're from the same litter.
Finger sandwich? Ooh, what idiot made these? I did.
And they came from a real little boy.
Yes.
Finger sandwich, Mr.
Bradley? A man like you deserves a good finger every now and then.
Sheffield, I can't believe that you employ this woman.
She's rude, she's insolent, and totally ******* and keep this damn beast .
Ow! Your dog bit me.
/ He's not my dog.
Yes, he is.
/ What? This dog has absolutely no connection whatsoever to either myself, Maxwell or our play.
That dog is a menace to society.
He ought to be put to sleep.
Sure.
No problem.
Hey, listen Cruella, nobody is touching this dog.
He's my dog.
/ I thought he was hers.
I forgot.
Maxwell gave him to me for my birthday.
It was a gift from the heart, so if I want to kill him, I can.
Niles, quick.
Get a bucket of water.
Let's see if she melts.
Sheffield, if you want to avoid a lawsuit, I suggest that you muzzle that dog and muzzle the nanny as well.
You know, Frank, I'm getting bloody tired of kissing up to you.
I'm not.
Let me do it.
Miss Fein was right from the beginning.
I should never have forced my little girl to play with your son.
Quite clearly he deserved everything he got.
And I don't care what you think about my play.
And frankly, I don't care much for you, either.
Now let me show you the door.
It's over there.
Son, let's go.
You'll never work in this town again.
Oh, Mr.
Sheffield, you know, it takes you a while, but when you see the light, boy, you just jump on that white horse and you go.
And you, my little fluffy protector you were just like Kevin Costner in the Bodyguard.
Except you have a better haircut.
Oh, I thought the play was just excellent.
Put in a seafood buffet and you've got yourself a hit.
Miss Fein, if you enjoyed it that much, how come you snuck out before the curtain call? Well, 'cause nature called.
And by the way, not to knock your theatre, but two stalls, six hundred women? It's like Tokyo in there.
I hate waiting for reviews.
My stomach has been in knots all day long.
Oh, we really don't have anything to be concerned about.
I mean, whatever else he might be, Frank Bradley is a professional.
Right.
He's not gonna let his personal feelings get in the way of his judgment.
We're doomed.
I thought these pictures were supposed to be of famous people.
Who's Ethel Merman? Never heard of her.
/ How 'bout Mary Martin? Beats me.
Hey, hey, hey, how 'bout this one.
Groucho Marx? Oh, he must be Markie Marx grandfather.
Oh, look here it is, here it is.
Oh, I can't look.
Just tell me which way his thumb is pointing.
Well, it's time for Critics Corner.
Unfortunately, Frank Bradley is out with food poisoning tonight.
The finger sandwiches.
I ate the finger sandwiches.
/ Oops, that darn refrigerator.
So we went right to the theatre to get the opinion of the common man.
Hi.
Fran, that's you.
/ I know.
Do I look a little chunky? I loved it.
It was a masterpiece.
Compelling, riveting.
A sheer enchantment.
Two thumbs up.
Bartender, I think there's something wrong with your set.
I sound so nasal.
It was a perfect evening of theatre, although adding a few stalls for the ladies room wouldn't kill 'em.
Bye.
Well, it looks like a hit to us.
Oh, thank you, Miss Fein.
Oh .
Any time, Mr.
Sheffield.
Any time.
Well, that makes it official.
Our final perishable has perished.
And there's the repairman in the nick of time.
Well, listen, the man is highly in demand.
This is a very sensitive piece of equipment.
Who're you gonna call? Crash Busters! Yeah, I'll just come look at the ol' frigidaire.
Well, actually, it's a sub-zero.
Not anymore.
Could be a condenser problem.
I think you got a crack.
We've got a crack.
/ Mmmm .
You know, I think these repairmen must all shop at the same store.
Yeah.
The Gap.
Oh, thank you so much and I'd like you all to please meet my dear friend, a man that I'll kiss any day on both cheeks Mr.
Dan Ackroyd.