Mike & Molly s02e13 Episode Script

So, you kids must be getting pretty excited about the big day.
Yeah, Molly and I both love Super Bowl Sunday.
Wedding.
Wedding.
Oh.
Well, everything's all squared away at St.
Bart's.
And if you slip the organist 15 bucks, she'll play anything you want.
Now, I warn you, she's 85 and incontinent, so those low notes ain't always coming from the organ.
Okay, well, good to know.
Sounds like we'll be using the ceiling fans.
Oh, and at some point, you'll have to sit down with Father Tim.
It's a formality, really.
He just has to confirm you're a boy and you're a girl and both planning on staying that way.
Well, what if I was both? Then I wouldn't need Mike.
Make sure she doesn't crack wise in front of the good Father.
He drinks, he's got a temper, and he's not a big fan of women.
So where you having the reception? We found this place that's actually pretty nice and it's walking distance from the church.
Great, so I got to traipse around the dirty streets of Chicago wearing high heels and a taffeta gown? I'm sorry.
You're wearing a taffeta gown? Not if I got to hoof it to the reception.
Wind comes along, catches my skirt, everybody gets a freebie.
Oh.
Well, that's a visual.
I don't know why you don't have the reception in the church basement.
It's clean, it's free.
You lay down a couple of sheets of plywood, you got a dance floor.
Well, that certainly sounds festive, in a hoedown-y kind of way, but Mike and I were thinking you know, uh Little help? We don't want to do it in a basement, Ma.
Fine, blow your money.
Your kids can go to community college and have crooked teeth.
About the seating arrangements.
I'm at the head table next to my boy, right? Actually, we were thinking that Mike and I would sit at a sweetheart table and everybody else would be seated around us.
Not much space in your spotlight, is there? So where's that put me, near to the kitchen door with one of your humpback uncles? Well, we thought, by eliminating the head table, things would be a little less awkward between you and Mike's dad.
Come again? Abort.
Abort.
I thought you two already talked about this.
You invited your deadbeat dad and his hell-bound whore to come to our wedding? Well, it's still kind of up in the air with the whore.
Wait.
"Our wedding?" You ungrateful little Judas.
After all the sacrifices I've made for you and you just stab me in the back.
Enjoy your 30 pieces of silver, turncoat! That's great.
This is just perfect.
What did she mean by "our wedding?" For the first time in my life I see love.
What were you thinking?! Everything was going so well, and you had to bring up my dad coming to the wedding? You told me she was fine with it! She was because she didn't know about it! Well, don't blame me because you're afraid to talk to your own mother.
Ah, don't get on your high horse.
You're afraid of her, too.
That's not the point.
She's your mom.
You should be able to be honest and open with her.
Are you hearing yourself? Why is there a cop car in front of my house? You got me.
There's no way my mom could've bought a rifle and beat us here.
You can't cart my baby off to jail! Vince, do something! Boys, if you let her go, I can fill the trunk of your car with porterhouse steaks and Mexican Rolexes.
The meat is real.
What is going on? There's my future son-in-law, the cop.
Set these goons straight.
Uh, Officer Michael Biggs.
What's the problem, fellas? She was driving erratically, and we followed her to this location, where she proceeded to park her car on the sidewalk.
But in front of my own house.
That's supposed to be home base, which means I'm olly olly oxen free.
She's also got 12 outstanding parking tickets and she's been driving on a suspended license.
We have to impound the vehicle and take her to the station.
I'm going to jail? I am too young and pretty! Those butch chicks will be on me like ants on a peach.
You're gonna let 'em take her away? I'll follow you in my car.
Ugh! So the only thing we get from having you in the house is an empty refrigerator and a three-foot butt divot in the couch! Could you please take your mom inside? Vince, why don't you arrest somebody who's committed a real crime, huh? Like whoever gave you that haircut! Yeah, I'm talking to you, thumb-head! Mom, in the house! Come on, Red.
Those mooks will just shoot you and plant the gun on me.
I'll post bail and get her back as soon as possible.
Thanks, sweetie.
Great, now all the neighbors are watching.
Well, you got cops on the lawn and your mom's mooning them through the window.
Mom, pull your pants up! All right, show's over! Quit acting like you haven't seen my mom's butt before! I can't believe they put my baby in jail over a few parking tickets.
This town has gone straight to hell since the Colombians pushed the Italians out.
Sad but true.
Oh, family.
Oh, sweetie.
Oh, God.
I missed you all so much.
Where's little Molly? Right here, Papillon.
So what is the deal? Does she have to go to court? Well, they impounded her car until she pays the fines and gets her license reinstated.
And you couldn't pull any strings? I did.
She's not spending the night in jail, and they pretended to believe me when I told them the smell in her car was skunk air freshener.
Oh, honey, you must be starving.
Let Mommy make you a sandwich.
Oh, that's all I've been thinking about since I've been away is a home-cooked meal.
Hey, if you're making sandwiches, uh, I'll have one.
Look at him.
Can't get rid of a couple of parking tickets, but he can sure make a loaf of bread disappear.
So am I getting a sandwich or not? No, Dad, I'm not dis-inviting you to my wedding.
What's going on? Mike's dis-inviting his dad to his wedding.
Shh! No, I realize I'm your only son, but hey, that vasectomy was your idea.
He's having a bad day, so don't bring him any pancakes, waffles, and put a padlock on the pie case.
No, Dad, I'm not choosing her over you.
I'm not choosing anybody.
I'm just trying to get married.
Bring me a tall stack.
Don't you move.
Listen, I need one of you guys to be reasonable, and we both know that's not gonna be Mom.
Pancakes! Carl told me not to.
I got a situation here.
Bring me pancakes! No.
He's not hungry.
He's just upset because he's caught in the middle between Mommy and Daddy.
I know exactly how he feels.
What if Mom agrees that you can come if Marlene doesn't? No, I'm not trying to hurt your wife's feelings.
I'm more worried about Mom stabbing her in the neck with a cake knife! Hang on, Dad, Molly's on the other line.
Is he bringing me pancakes? Now, you know damn well the answer ain't at the bottom of an Aunt Jemima bottle.
Hey, Molly, what's up? I'm on duty.
I can't use the squad car to chauffeur your sister around.
Hang on.
I got my dad on the other line.
Dad, listen Oh, now, don't cry.
Don't cry.
If you cry, I cry.
How can this day get any worse? Would it be cool if I blazed up back here? Hello, ladies.
Sloppy Joes were sublime today.
And the bread pudding mwa! Très magnifique.
That's French for "damn fine bread pudding.
" I'm gonna have a little chin wag with my future mommy-in-law.
The hairnet club seems a little more bubbly than usual.
Rat trap day? What do you want? Look, I understand that you're still upset, but it'll kill Mike if you don't come to our wedding.
He should've thought about that before he betrayed me.
Yes, he should have talked to you about that, and he assured me he had.
Lying to you already, is he? Well, the apple don't fall too far from the tree.
His father told me he joined the National Guard, and the only truth to that story was he was spending every other weekend in the bush.
It's not like he's picking his father over you.
I mean, they only talk on the phone maybe once a month, and he's just seen him a few times since you guys divorced.
What?! Oh, my God.
Don't you guys tell each other anything? I was in labor for nine hours with that 13-pound backstabber.
Turned my uterus into a windsock.
And this is how he thanks me? See, now this is the kind of open dialogue you two should be having.
We're done here.
Come on, if you and Mike would just talk about this Talking's over.
Fine.
Let you ladies get back to planning tomorrow's nutritious menu.
Who am I kidding? We all know it's crap.
Oh! Let it go, Lynette.
Don't waste your third strike on her.
I'm your biggest fan I'll follow you until you love me Papa, paparazzi Going to add a little blush, Mr.
Whitmore.
Just because you're stone-cold dead doesn't mean you can't be stone-cold hot.
Baby, there's no other superstar You know that I'll be Papa, paparazzi Victoria, you ready to go? Mike! Sorry.
What the hell, dude? You don't just sneak up on somebody in a mortuary.
I apologize.
Can we get out of here? In a second.
Need to finish up on Mr.
Whitmore.
What happened to him? Poor old thing just keeled over shoveling his front walk.
See? That's why I always pay the neighbor kid to do it.
Let them die in the snow.
Oh, gives me the creeps.
But you're a cop.
You must see dead bodies all the time.
Sure, but we just tag 'em and bag 'em.
We don't mousse and spruce.
Don't know how you have the stomach for it.
Well, everybody dies, and I just want to make them look their best for whatever is waiting for them on the other side.
Sure, might as well hedge your bets.
If there is an afterlife, you don't want to be the ugly one.
Right? I mean, who knows what the next dimension holds for us? We could come back as a dog or a monkey or a head of cabbage.
That would be my luck.
After a lifetime of choking down salads to come back as a big bowl of slaw.
Or maybe this is it and we should make the most of it while we're here.
That's what I'm doing.
Living my life to the fullest.
So, when I'm laying here like Mr.
Whitmore, I will have a peaceful smile on my face, and it won't have to be sewn on with two big hooks and fishing wire.
Do you actually do that? I had to do it to this one.
When they rolled him in, he was not a happy camper.
Well, nobody likes to shovel their driveway.
Ah, great.
Hey, Mom.
I-I can't understand what you're saying.
Molly told you what? I got to take this.
I'll be right there.
That about does it, Mr.
Whitmore.
Mmm.
You look very handsome.
Good luck on your journey.
And may your next life be filled with love, happiness and hopefully a snowblower.
I'm your biggest fan I'll follow you until you love me Papa, paparazzi.
Baby, there's no other superstar What do you want from me? He's my father.
I can't just cut him out of my life completely.
Why not? He wrote the both of us off the minute he walked out that door and followed his boner all the way to Pompano Beach.
I hate to interrupt, but it's cold in the car, and I got to tinkle.
What the hell is she doing here? She needed a ride.
Through the dining room and to the right.
Thanks.
I was waiting for a lull in the fight, but that never happened, and I've been pounding Mountain Dew since 7:00 this morning.
Hi, Jim! Continue.
As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing else to talk about.
You chose your father over me, plain and simple.
Mom, it's my wedding day! Is it too much to ask for you to put your differences aside for one hour? One hour? You ever been to a Catholic wedding? After three hours of stand, sit and kneel, you're looking at the crucifix thinking he's the lucky one! You know what? I give up.
Come to my wedding, don't come to my wedding.
Do what you want, 'cause after all, it's your special day.
It was! Now you can spend it with your precious daddy.
And your step-mommy, the prostitute! Hey, maybe you can book her for the bachelor party! Sorry.
I'll get out of your hair.
Love your house, by the way.
Thanks.
Is this where Mike grew up? You mean, is this where I cooked and cleaned and sacrificed the flower of my youth to raise that ungrateful lout? Yeah.
It is.
Bought it in '72.
His father got it on the GI Bill.
Only smart thing that son of a bitch ever did.
Other than marrying you, right? I gave him a son and a home, and how did he repay me? By running off with some tramp and leaving me with a ninth-grader who could outeat a family of beavers.
Well, you did a wonderful job with that little beaver.
He's kind and thoughtful, and that's because of you.
Yeah, well, it wasn't easy.
But I'm a nurturer.
Always have been.
Can't turn it off.
So why wouldn't you want to go to the wedding and show that ex-husband of yours what you were able to do without him? Oh, I wouldn't dream of using the kid's special day to grind a 20-year-old axe.
If it was me, I would be rolling up to that wedding with my hair done, a face full of makeup and a dress short enough to show off those legs, which have held up very nicely.
Well, I square-dance and do water aerobics.
It shows.
I'd kill for those things.
But I did get lucky in the boob department.
Yes, you did.
They are high and ample.
Hey, if you change your mind and end up going to the wedding, I would be happy to do your makeup for you.
Ah, I don't think so.
I have great new lipstick.
If it can give a dead person kissable lips, imagine what it cado for you.
Later, Jimbo.
She's not wrong about my sticks.
At the public pool, people used to mistake me for Ann-Margret.
Great.
Now, because she won't budge, I got to call my dad and break his heart.
Sorry, Mike.
What now? Mom, what a nice surprise.
Long time, no harp.
What? Really? That's great.
My mom and my dad are coming to my wedding.
Oh, that's nice.
Maybe they'll bury the hatchet.
Oh, no, I'm going to pat her down before I let her in the church.
Okay, Mom, I'll talk to you later.
And thanks.
Boy, that's weird.
I wonder what made her change her mind.
Well, I'm guessing it's not easy to stay mad at a guy like you forever.
I don't know, she's been doing a pretty good job of it for the last 35 years.
Who knows what brought her around? Life is filled with mystery.
And just think, if I was a monkey and you were a bowl of coleslaw, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.
All right, kids, I'm out of here.
Where are you going? I'm celebrating.
I got my driver's license back.
Just be careful tonight.
And if you're not okay to drive home, please take a cab.
No, no, no.
If you need a ride home, call me.
I appreciate your offer, Mike, but I'm not driving tonight.
I'm going out with a very responsible friend.
All right, well, have a good time.
She'll be fine.
Are you kidding? Have you seen the kind of people she hangs out with? So where we headed, Legs? It's ladies night at the VFW.
Two dollar gin Rickeys and all-you-can-eat pepper poppers.
Sounds like a plan.
Do you mind? I guess it's okay.
But blow it out the window.
My son's a cop.