All language subtitles for Mike.and.Molly.s02e08-Peggy Gets a Job.eng

It's nice of the big guy
to cook dinner for us.

Well, I don't know
how good 'll be,

but just put it
in your mouth

and pretend you're
enjoying it.

Story of my life.

All right, ladies.

Hot meat coming at you.

Oh, my God.

It looks like the barn
caught fire and nobody got out.

We got burgers,

bratz and I threw in
a couple of rib eyes

for you gals that like your meat
straight-up.

Are you going to say it
or am I?

I've been
biting my tongue

since "hot meat
coming at you."

Sweetie are you planning

on serving any kind
of vegetables,

or, uh, does everything come
from the petting zoo?

No, hey,

there's vegetables.

Pickles for the burgers,
kraut for the dogs

and farm-fresh tomatoes served
in an easy-to-squeeze bottle.

This... this looks
heart-stoppingly good.

Well, you ladies are
always cooking for me,

and I figured a little
payback was in order.

Thank you.
Very sweet.

If the paramedics
have to use

the paddles on me,
leave my blouse on.

I'm wearing an old bra.

I'll get it.

It's probably Peta.

Well, invite him in.
There's plenty.

Oh.

Mrs. Biggs.

What a surprise.

We love it when you drop by
so very unexpectedly.

Let's be honest...
if I hadn't

put my finger over that peephole,
we wouldn't be having this conversation.

We've... we've been
meaning to come visit you,

but I've been
crazy at work,

and with all the...
The wedding planning...

- Mike!
- I get it.

People get busy,

and some relationships
don't make the cut.

And it's usually
the groom's mother

that gets the brown end
of the stick.

If that means
what I think it means,

that's certainly not
a good thing.

Would you...
Would you like to sit down?

I would, but my hemorrhoids
are telling me to stand.

Mike!

Mom, what are you ing here?

I just came by
to bring you a little treat.

You always loved your mommy's
seven-layer cookies.

Oh, boy. Hey, you
want to come in?

I was just getting ready

to fire up some
baby back ribs.

No, thanks.
I drank a cold can

of chicken and stars
before I came over.

Oh, that reminds me,
I got to flip the drumsticks.

Mike, for the love of God,
no more meat!

Oh, God, he's grilling
everything in sight.

You might want to
hide Jim in the car.

I'm kidding.

Please, come in and...
And have dinner with us.

No, no,
I don't want anybody

dragging a lawn chair
in from the yard

to make me feel like
I'm on the guest list.

I just wanted to grab
a passing glance

at my boy and give you this.

Your seven-layer cookie recipe

don't need it anymore.

His life is here
with you people,

and this way,
you won't have to pry it

out of my cold, dead hand.

We, thank you.

I'd never be able to make
these the way that you do.

That's true.

Let me know when the wedding is.

Assuming I'm invited.

Oh, stop.
Of course you are.

We'll call you soon.

If I don't pick up,
I'm not screening.

I'm probably dead.

Okay.

Well, let's hope
that doesn't happen

for a long, long...

Oh, God, screw it.

♪ For the first time
in my life ♪

♪ I see love. ♪

Sync and corrections by
GeirDM@addic7ed.com

these seven-layer cookies
are delicious.

Each layer perfectly
complements the next one.

Just when the coconut flavour
starts to fade away,

blam, hello,
lady butterscotch.

Listen, honey, I-I hate
to come between a man

and his trans-fatty
acids, but...

Aren't you a little
worried about your mom?

Nah. I doubt she'll
circle back again tonight.

No. She just
seemed so sad.

I me, I-I think she
really misses you.

You know what?

I am going to call
her right now

and make plans for
her next Sunday.

Ah, I hate giving up
my Sundays.

That's the day I like

to check things
off my to-do list.

Your to-do list?

Today, you sat on the couch

and watched three
football games.

Check, check and check.

Besides, when too much time
goes by between visits,

that crusty woman unleashes
her wrath on me.

Hi.

Mrs. Biggs, it's Molly.

Well, I don't want anything.

It was just so great
seeing you today,

and I-I thought it
would be nice if we,

you know, planned a
little get-together

before too much
time had passed.

Tomorrow?

Uh, just you and me?

Ugh. I have to
work all day...

No, I'm not just
shining you on.

Fine. Do you
like Chinese?

Oh, I was actually
referring to the food,

but good to know.

She does not
make this easy, does she?

If it weren't for these cookies,
I would put her in a home years ago.

You know, we didn't have to eat
in the school cafeteria.

I would have been happy
to meet you at a restaurant.

Hmm. Pay an arm and a
leg for cloth napkins

and having some swish
telling you where to sit?

No, thank you.

Is there a gravy
shortage, Petunia?

They're a little
understaffed.

Maybe if they paid
a decent wage, right?

I mean, am I right?

Nothing's changed.

At Mikey's school
for ten years.

It was nothing but
a revolving door

of transients and parolees.

What's your story?

Work release or
you tunnel out?

Good behavior.

Okay.

Let's break up
this coffee klatch, gals.

Um.

"Lynette..."

What..What's
the soup today?

Cream of Broccoli.

Uh-huh... and
I'm lady Gaga.

Okay, hey.

You know, I'm...
I'm going to have that jell-o.

Can't go wrong there...
it's see-through.

That way, you know for
sure if sweet cheeks here

tossed in a thumbtack
or a rat turd.

I think it looks
delicious and nutritious.

Hey, guys.
Hi, Molly.

I'd ask you to sit down,

but we're kind of
in the middle of something.

Oh, yeah, so are...

So are we.
I just...

Okay.

Bit of an icy reception
at the cool kid table, huh?

Mm-hmm. Only that
one woman, Rebecca.

We're both in line
for the vice principal job,

and she's just jealous

and I'm a better teacher.

And that's not
her real hair color.

Rug don't match
the drapes, huh?

Women don't really have
rugs anymore, Peggy.

Dear lord,

thank you for this food.

May it nourish me

and give me the strength
to get through my day

without taking
a handful of pills

and swan-diving
in front of an "l" train.

Amen.

So you seem good.

Everything okay?

Well, we've all got
our crosses to bear,

but apparently,
the good lord has made mine

out of lead
and covered it in fire ants.

But... whatever.

His will be done.

Well, you have been
rough a lot lately.

I mean, with your boyfriend
dying so suddenly and all.

Well, that's what men do...
they leave.

Dennis left in a body bag,

and Mike's dad left
in a Chrysler imperial

with his bowling trophy
and a home-wrecking whore.

And I'm guessing
you're also feeling

a little abandoned by
your son about now, too.

Oh, is that what this
little lunch date is all about?

What?

Think you can wine and dine me

with a two dollar
government meal,

then get me to spill my guts

like it's "daddy touched me"
week on Dr. Phil?

Peggy, please,
keep your voice down.

Let me tell you something...
I may be old,

lonely and heartbroken,

cast aside by my own
flesh and blood,

but you'll never hear me
complaining about it.,

oh, no.

You suffer in silence.

Damn right.

Peggy Biggs is not a
bellyacher.

When life deals me
a crap hand, I play it.

Aw, go... I can't eat this.

Hey, bright eyes.

Think you can rustle me up
some hot sauce

before you walk the green mile?

She's going through the change.

Let's hope second time's
a charm.

I know you said no more meat,
but these pork chops

followed me, me, me
all the way home.

Well, you're not grilling
them this Sunday,

'cause we're spending it
with your mom.

You're kidding me.

I thought you jumped
on that hand grenade with lunch.

I did.

It's your turn
to take a little shrapnel.

You know,
since you moved in here

you hardly see her
at all anymore.

I rush over there
every time she calls,

and it's usually just
to check the bushes

for skunks
or peeping Toms.

By the way, in 15 years,

one skunk,
no peeping Toms.

Well,

I think she might appreciate you

just dropping by
for no other reason

than you're her son
and you love her.

I don't know... that might
make her a little suspicious.

Well, here.

Take her cookie
container back to her.

Aw, man! You guys
ate all of 'em?

I never got one.

Oh.

I tell you
you look very pretty tonight?

Who is it?

It's me, Mike.

The only Mike I know is my son,

and he's been MIA
since he got a girlfriend,

so hit the bricks, sicko.

Alright, mom,
you made your point.

I feel terrible.

Now, open the door.

Sorry I didn't clean up,

but I wasn't
expecting company.

Ever!

What's going on?

You're sleeping on the couch now?
Yeah.

Right next to my
two best friends,

the TV and the toilet.

And now you're letting Jim just eat
from a 50-pound bag of dog food?

Hey, if I die in my sleep,
I figure that buys me

about a week before he starts
gnawing at my sweetbreads.

Geez, he's like
a ham in a dog suit.

You should see
the size of his stools.

The other day he had to
lay on his side to finish.

All right, mom,
listen to me.

I realize I've been very
remiss as a son lately.

I don't blame you, boy

I understand you
got a woman now,

and she's dragging you around
by your tickle stick.

Okay.

I promise I'll come around more.

But you gotta meet me halfway.

The Arby's on Cicero?

No!

I mean you gotta
pull yourself together.

You can't just mope around
the house all the time.

Pretty soon Jim's legs
won't be long enough

to keep his wiener
off the ground.

Oh...

Hush, now, he's very
self-conscious about his weight.

The point is, you're
a strong woman; A survivor.

And it breaks my heart to see
you wallowing in self-pity.

That's because you don't know
what 's like to wake up

And feel so all alone.

You're right, I don't.

I've always had an
amazing woman in my life,

taking care of me.

And nobody's ever
going to replace her.

Aw, I'm just
an old, tired broad,

ready for the scrap heap.

Don't talk that way.

You didn't roll over
and give up when dad left.

Maybe you should think
about getting a job again.

Meet new people.

You know, have someplace
go every day?

And do what?

Sweep hair at
the Supercuts?

Read to the geezers at
the old folks' home?

Hand out samples
of summer sausage

to the moochers at
the grocery store?

All I'm saying is, you
still got a lot to offer.

I am good with people.

You do have a gift.

Hey, do you need any help
around the police station?

No! We do not.

But I'm sure, somewhere,
there's a place

that you'd fit right in.
Hmm.

What's in the chef's stew?

So far, I've fished out
two cigarette butts

and a shoelace.

What do you think?
You want to roll the dice?

Yeah. I think it's
a great idea

for your mom to
start working again.

That's why I let my grandma
do little odd jobs for me.

It keeps her young.

Well, she must feel
like a teenager

when she's laying under
your truck changing the oil.

Yeah.

It's worth
the 20 bucks I give her

just to see that happy,
greasy smile on her face.

Oh, it's Molly.

Hey, sweetie, what's going on?

Really?

My mom got a job
at Molly's school.

- That's great!
- That's great.

It's not?

It's not great.

Meatball sub...

Bacon double
cheeseburger.

Uh, no, no.
Those are for Carl.

Bacon double cheeseburger.
I only eat meat on the weekends.

I'm having cottage cheese
and sliced peaches.

I can't be a part of this.

Well, look, you're
the one that told me

to go spend time with my mom.

If it's followed by
something horrible,

then that's on you, isn't it?

Samuel, can I get an iced tea
with one splenda?

Order me a chocolate milkshake,
this is gonna take a while.

Really? So you have no idea

why I wasn't invited to that faculty
meeting?

None. The e-mail should have
gone out to everybody.

But you're the one that
sends the e-mails out.

Everyone else got it.

Do you know how to
work your e-mail?

Yes, I do.

And your address is still
jollymolly77?

Close. "Cubfan4."

My bad.

It will not happen again.

Thank you.

Cafeteria's downstairs.
I know where it is.

I got sloppy Joe in my hair.

You missed out on
my fresh brownies today.

You ran out of that cafeteria

like a Mexican chasing
a soccer ball.

No, I just had to
make a quick phone call.

Well,

I brought you
some premium wedges.

Figured you could take
some home to the boy.

That's sweet, Peggy.
I appreciate it.

Mind if I join you?

Uh... sure.

I usually put in

a swirl of peanut butter,
but apparently, now,

every kid in the world
can't even look at a nut

without his head swelling up
like a ballpark Frank.

Yeah, peanut allergies are
actually pretty serious thing.

That's because we're
raising a generation

of thin-skinned sissies.

I hear they don't even keep score

at sporting events anymore

well, they don't want
the kids to go home

and feel like a loser.

Some of them are losers.

And the sooner
they embrace that,

the less chance they'll be
crouching in a bell tower

with a high-powered rifle and
a picture of the president.

Wow.

Well, if at all possible,

we-we try not to refer to
the students as losers.

I've heard you say worse.

I was kidding,

and that was at home,

and that was before you and I
had a professional relationship,

which is the type of

relationship we should maintain
while we're on schoolgrounds.

Oh, I get it.

Professor high horse
doesn't want to be seen

with Lola the lunch lady.

No, no, that's
not what I'm saying.

I'm just not comfortable
with my personal life

mixing with my
professional life.

Don't worry. From now on, I'm
just a faceless slop jockey.

Come on, you don't need to
be so dramatic about it.

Hey. That's the way it is.

Lunch ladies are invisible.

But on the plus side,

I hear little kids talking
about cheating on tests,

teachers talking about
cheating on their spouses...

Um, what's that?

All I'm saying is that chippy
I saw crossing out of here

sure is playing with fire.

Rebecca?!

What are you talking about?
She's not married.

No, but the principal is.

She's doing it
with the principal?

You didn't hear that from me,

and I didn't hear it
from the janitor.

Well, I better shimmy
back down the totem pole.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!

Hey, what are you...?

What are you doing?
I thought we were gonna...

Have some brownies.

Doesn't strike me
as very professional.

Oh, come on,
we're both off the clock

and we're... family.

Mom?

Wait, are you saying that
distribution of school funds

is decided by the
principal's secretary?

Not officially.

But she's definitely the
blue-haired puppet master.

Because she's got
the skinny on her boss.

And by skinny,
I mean photos.

Get out.

What do you hear about
the vice principal job?

Am I still the front runner?

Ah, that's enough
shop talk for one day.

We can gab more on Sunday,

when you and Mikey
come over for dinner.

Oh. Sunday.

- Mm, gosh, I think...
- I'll make a roast,

and we can discuss you and
Mikey having a church wedding.

We weren't planning
on church wedding.

And I wasn't planning
on serving goulash

while wearing a wire.

But if you want to dance,
you got to pay the Fiddler.

I want to dance.

Oh, my God.

Hey.

I think Jim's back down
to his fighting weight.

He just took a dump so big I
thought it was another dog.

By the way, I talked to the
priest at St. Bartholomew's,

and you're good to go.

Wait, we're having church
wedding? When did that happen?

Since I accepted Jesus Christ
as my personal lord and savior.

And you know,
our little get-togethers

don't have to be
just on a Sunday.

Really?

My wednesdays are
pretty free, too.

Okay, Peggy...

I'm giving up wednesdays,
dinner better be extra juicy.

Oh, yeah.

And afterwards, we can
look at some pictures.

Ooh. Wednesday it is.

You know, I bowl on wednesdays.

Not anymore, you don't.

Sync and corrections by
GeirDM@addic7ed.com