All language subtitles for The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel - 05x03 - Typos and Torsos.EDITH.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -

So, I had to bump a guest last night

who was supposed to be on the
show when we ran out of time,

and it's not without its dangers.

One night, I bumped Jackie Gleason.

Next day, he bumped me
straight to the moon.

Yeah.

I was black and blue for a week.

Winter weather's taking
hold all over America.

Right now, the roads are
wetter than Richard Nixon

- during a televised debate.

- Slippery, very slippery.
- And the winner for the least interesting joke goes to...

- Hmm?
- Huh?

Hey, will someone please
tell the Shirelles that, yes,

I will still love them tomorrow?

The band's waiting half a
beat when I throw to them

after the monologue. They
got to jump in quicker

so I'm not hanging out there.

Exactly, I keep saying
they got to jump in quicker.

I'll talk to Tony.

And is Teddy's writing
getting smaller, or are my eyes

- getting worse?
- His writing's getting smaller.

Much smaller. I noticed that, too.

I'll talk to Teddy.

So, now, the Kerouac joke...

why didn't that get a bigger laugh?

Felt like a lot of people
didn't know who he is.

The guy's a best-selling
author, what gives?

- I know who he is.
- We got to stop

with the outdated
references. Keep it fresh.

Well, said, Gordie.

See you at Toots?

I've got to get home to the missus.

She's under the weather.

She was fine when I
left her this afternoon.

- Clever.
- Hey, tally's wrong.

Gordon dropped the orphanage joke.

Oh, sorry, Cess.

Well, still more jokes than you.

This isn't a contest.

Of course it's a contest.

You know what that means.

Maisel's 0 for 30.

- Broke the record.
- Yup.

Thanks again, Midge.

Didn't get a joke in again, huh?

No, but I do know who Jack Kerouac is.

Who?

Oh!

Beautiful yield today.

God looked down and smiled.

Ethan.

Oh, Ethan, let me look at you.

Mama, you know there's an airport here.

Oh, it's practically
in Egypt it's so far.

Ethan.

It's okay! It's just my mother!

She's visiting from New York.

- Oh.
- They act like they've never seen a Jewish mother before.

Well, it's Israel, Mama.

Helicopters suddenly
appearing in the sky

make people very nervous.

Who's gonna invade a lettuce farm...

health-conscious
anti-Semites who want a salad?

Does he just wait for you?

He's fine. He's got a book.

And when the parsnips

started peeking out,
we were all stunned.

I mean, you think you're
planting horseradish,

and then up come parsnips.

God works in mysterious ways.

Well, actually, we just
got the packets mixed up.

Oh, good, you haven't
changed completely.

So...

how are your studies
going? Are you a rabbi yet?

Oh, no, not yet.

You've been at rabbi
school for years now.

It's not called rabbi school.

I mean, you didn't
want to go to college,

fine, but should it take
longer to become a rabbi

than it does to become a lawyer?

Yes.

Yes. I... I got my answer.

So, for tonight, I'm sending a car

to pick you up at 6:30 sharp.

- You got the suit I sent?
- I did, but...

Ethan, do not give me
a hard time about this.

It's not every night the UJA-Federation

honors your mother, and I
need my son to look handsome.

Make sure you shave and bathe.

Twice, because some of
this seems permanent.

- I work in the fields. There's dignity in labor.
- Your labor, maybe.

Mine involves a roomful of people

- staring at my cabbage patch.
- Mama.

See? I kept it thematic for you.

I don't understand why
you say such things.

Well, good thing you
don't book the Copa.

- Oh, I have a little news.
- Hm?

Chava. Chava.

Mama, I'd like you to meet...

Let me guess... Chava?

We're getting married.

This is a "little news"?

It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Maisel.

I'm sorry, did you say
you're getting married?

Yes, after harvest.

- No clue when that is.
- I understand marriage

is not a happy topic for you.

Ethan told me about your divorce.

Oh, yeah? Which one?

Not to have felt pain is
not to have been human.

Well, that was beautiful, I assume.

So, Chava,

- are your parents
kibbutz-ers, too? - No.

I was born in Tel Aviv
but we moved to Minnesota

when my father became head
of surgery at the Mayo Clinic.

I moved back to join the army.

I didn't see much combat, but I
did break my leg in four places

when my parachute opened late.

I was separated from my platoon,
so I had to set it myself

and climb a date tree to sleep in.

I still get teased about that.

Yeah, you'll never live that down.

Okay, I have to go.

Ethan, walk Mommy to her helicopter?

Be faithful to that one

or she'll rip your nuts off and
plant them next to the onions.

I will be completely
faithful to her, always.

Okay. I'll see you at 6:30 sharp.

Wear the suit.

Wish you'd told me you had a fiancée.

Sorry.

I don't like her.

Well, she's my mother.

There.

This is ridiculous.

He's a little boy. You tell a little boy

what to do, you don't
trick him into doing it.

This is what the school
therapist told us to do, okay?

There. We make it a game.

Every night, he sleeps
two feet closer to his room

until finally he makes it to his bed.

He wins. There.

We should put him in a new school.

Any school we put him in is
gonna think we're bad parents.

- Why?
- We're divorced. I'm a comic.

I've been to jail. You own a nightclub.

Ah, but we make our son sleep
on the floor of the hallway

and suddenly we're Ozzie and Harriet?

You have a better idea?

Tell him to sleep in his own bed.

Wow, I did not think of that.
No wonder men run the world.

There.

Probably should've
let Ethan talk to him.

To the school therapist? No fucking way.

I don't want some quack
messing with my son's mind.

Five minutes, he'll have Ethan convinced

- his whole family's insane.
- Did you hear that?

What, Mama?

I just...

Nothing. Who wants tea?

It's weak to go to a therapist.

Yes, your opinion has been
stated, loud and clear.

And don't you dare talk
about any of this in your act.

Why are you so cranky? There.

Is it Moishe and Shirley?

You mean the unstoppable
force and the immovable object?

- Oh.
- They're driving me crazy.

They insist on staying
in that house together

but they won't speak to each other,

so everything goes through me.

I spent the morning negotiating

what the temperature
should be when they sleep.

65 or 66.

An hour and a half on
a one-degree difference.

Oh! There.

You heard that, right?
It was a thump or a bang.

- It was the front door, Rose.
- But who came through?

Oh, Abe. It's... you. Oh, Abe.

What are you doing down there?

Well, we met with Ethan's
school, and they...

Never mind. I can't
even pretend to care.

Papa.

It's just me, Mama.

Anything wrong, Papa?

I spelled Carol Channing's name wrong.

Oh. How did you spell it?

Wrong! Does it matter?

I did it and the paper
had to issue a correction.

A correction for everyone to read.

Does anyone really read corrections?

Of course they do.

I start every paper
reading the corrections.

That's how you know who the idiots are.

And up until now, I was the only person

at the Voice that had never
been corrected in print.

Now I, too, am an idiot.

Well, maybe now they'll let
you sit at their table at lunch.

Look at it.

"On Monday, Carol Channing... " two N's,

"was incorrectly spelled
as 'Chaning, '" one N. Ugh.

I've been branded.
I'm-I'm Hester Prynne.

Two N's in Prynne, by the way.

I just can't remember the last time

I made a mistake like this.

Look, now, come on.

Not in 25 years at Columbia,

not in high school, elementary school.

I may have gotten something
wrong in kindergarten,

but there are no existing
records of my time there.

I checked.

You're divorced. What
are you doing here?

Ethan's school therapist told us...

I told you, I don't care!

You had to hear it that time.

It was a gun being cocked
or a sword being unsheathed.

I just dropped the
paper down on the table.

You... Are you trying to
drive me mad, Abe Weissman?

Yeah. There's no way I'm
keeping this out of my act.

"I mean, the kid

had to take kindergarten a second time.

He failed finger paints."

Something other than finger paints.

- "He failed sharing."
- Better.

- "He failed snack."
- Bit of a thinker.

We give 'em one a night.
Go with snack, guys.

How do you spell "discombobulated"?

Teddy, that was two jokes
ago. You're two jokes behind?

I have a mind like a steel trap.

And a butt like a bowl of spaghetti.

- Look who's talking.
- Guys, stop. We need one more,

so focus. We need something, anything.

Well...

Never mind.

- You got something? Let's hear it.
- Your every thought

- is the property of The Gordon Ford Show.
- So don't fight it.

Okay. Well...

"Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny,

was recently in a car accident.

He's recovering nicely,
though authorities

are still questioning
the voice of Elmer Fudd."

- I like it.
- Me too.

Gordon'll like it, too. Put it in.

Wait, put it in?

Uh, when you say "put it in," you mean

"put it in"? Shut up, Mel.

Yeah. It was good, it's going in.

Wow. Wow.

Just has to get past the man upstairs.

- Here he comes.
- Whew.

Smells like an elephant's
ass crack in here.

- Trudy, you ready?
- Got it.

Gimme.

Okay.

Nice work, guys.

Ooh, another squeaker, though.

Humbly speaking, we're
the best in the business.

Let's take a break. We've earned it.

Oh, good, my mother's
called me three times.

You sing?

You know I sing.

When did I ever hear you sing?

In all the school plays.

Don't you remember me doing
The Band Wagon in high school?

I remember you doing the
band back in high school,

but not you singing.

You always diminish my
dreams, you know that?

You're very consistent in that way.

One of the reasons I'm
in this terrible rut

is because I get no
help from you or anyone.

I will try to find you
something, Tess, I promise.

Don't break this promise.

Since Skint died, I'm
feeling very vulnerable.

- Wait, Skint died?
- Yeah.

Your husband? My brother-in-law?

Yeah, last week.

And you didn't think to tell me?

It was natural causes, so
there was nothing to tell.

I'll call you later, Tess.

Susie, chime in here,

is this floral print too busy?

Eh, the decor's Dinah's call, Nicky.

She's the one who gives a shit.

Thank you.

Susie Myerson and Associates.

Oh, hi, Midge. She's right here.

Hey, what's up?

- I got a joke in.
- Finally.

It took me four weeks
to get the hang of it.

No, it took them four weeks
to realize their fucking cocks

wouldn't fall off if
they put a lady joke in.

Be sure to watch tonight.

- Dinah, too.
- I'll, uh...

handle this.

Miriam, I got to go right now.
Your mother just walked in.

Ha, ha, very funny. Goodbye.

Bye.

Rose.

I tried to call, but
I couldn't get through.

Well, my business is really picking up.

It's a busy professional office now.

Fuck me? Fuck you

and the donkey you rode in on

and fuck the donkey's sister, too.

Come on in.

Sit down.

So, uh... what's up?

Susie, you're the
angriest person I know.

- All right.
- And you associate

with angry people. There's
always a frightening,

terrible energy coming from you.

Where you going with this, Rose?

Well, I was wondering if
you could help me get a gun.

- What?
- Nothing fancy, and not too heavy.

It has to fit in my purse
and be quick on the draw.

You a righty or a lefty, sweetheart?

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh. Rose,

why on earth would you need a gun?

I stepped on some toes with
my matchmaking business.

Encroached on the turf of
some not very nice people.

So, you're gonna shoot them?
These old women with a gun.

Oh, no, not shoot. Just brandish.

Wave it around a little.

Pistol whipping can
be very effective, too,

and it's a shorter sentence.

Really? Don't speak.

They've threatened me and my family.

- Come on.
- They cornered Abe at his tobacco shop.

Said terrible things about the Torah.

We've had flights canceled, mail stolen,

- dry cleaning ruined.
- Who hasn't?

And I'm fairly certain they
burned the tea room down.

Wait, they burned down the tea room?

- My tea room?
- Yes.

With the delicious whipped cream?

That has just the
right amount of vanilla

and a hint of nutmeg that
makes it downright celestial?

It burned to the ground.

I was gonna invest.

- It's gone.
- Holy shit.

I'll kill you, you hear?

Oh.

I'm... I'm, uh, sorry for any language

you may have heard in there.

Uh, call got pretty contentious.

Everything okay, partner?

It's the ticket office to Camelot.

Wife wants tickets, and
these theater people,

they don't respond to threats.

Look, please don't go shooting
up any ladies' luncheons.

In the meantime, you need a place

to do business for a while,

with the tea room gone?

For a couple days, perhaps. I
just need a table and a phone.

- Hey, Maggie!
- Yeah?

I'm sending Midge's mom
over. Find a space for her.

- What?
- Just open the fucking door.

Go down the hall and take a right.

Thank you, Susie.

How beautiful.

- Damask?
- Mm-hmm. Told you.

- I'm in the minority.
- Bullies.

Man, do I hate bullies.

Screwing with a nice,
crazy lady like Rose.

- You can't let her get a gun.
- No, of course not.

So, uh, how about...

- Them? No, no, no, no, no.
- Why not?

No, I don't want to...

You guys do know that we speak
"mumble" pretty fluently, right?

You want us to get into this?

- No.
- Maybe.

- You sure?
- Hey, Susie!

Who's this uptown broad making
me rearrange my furniture?

Just let her hang there a while.

Mm, this is perfect,
Susie. Thank you. Uh, no.

I think facing the door is better.

She's Midge's mom, right?

There's nothing for you guys

to do on this. Thanks.

- Okay.
- All right.

I wish you'd come to me.

- I could get you tickets.
- Oh, yeah?

- I know Robert Goulet.
- That's right.

Yeah, we golf on Saturdays.

Have a great time.

Make a lot of noise and show Gordon

and all the folks back home
that you're having a great time.

Enjoy the show, everyone.

Hey, Teddy, can you save me
the card with my joke on it?

It's my first to get on.

Gladly. That's exciting.

It is.

Ladies and gentlemen,
it's The Gordon Ford Show.

Tonight's guests: Pat Boone.

From Dobie Gillis, Bob Denver.

And comedian Lester Simms.

Now, here's your host,

Gordon Ford!

So, President John F. Kennedy.

I have to say, it's gonna
be strange having a Catholic

president from Massachusetts.

I just worry when it
comes to important matters,

his allegiance will
always be to the Red Sox.

Yeah.

Oh, this was in the news, in preparation

for a potential showdown
with Cuban guerrillas,

the U.S. military recently
purchased a B-52 bomber

and 10,000 bananas.

Sprinkle those out.

Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny,

was recently in a car accident.

He's recovering nicely, though,

authorities are still questioning

the voice of Fell-mer...

That's a new character, folks: Fell-mer.

Sidekick to Forky Pig. He's hysterical.

Speaking of cartoons,

Disney recently released 101 Dalmatians.

A lot of people are
complimenting the art,

but, personally, I
found it a bit spotty.

It's just me, I guess.

Hey, Midge, uh, here's your card.

- Thanks, Teddy.
- You gonna frame it?

- Or burn it for heat.
- Okay.

- Was it as loud as it seemed?
- Louder.

- You...
- Yes?

... have nothing to worry about.

Just flash that
hundred-watt smile at Gordie

and it'll all blow over. Piece of cake.

- You think?
- I know.

- Thanks.
- If you want to keep your job, grovel.

But George just said...

George is wrong about
everything, in the world.

I am telling you, grovel.

Grovel like you have
never groveled before.

Someone will be here at
1:00 to accept the delivery.

Nope, not before 1:00.

Because we're a
nightclub, not a preschool.

Yeah. We'll see you
at 1:00. What you need?

Remember when we opened the club,

how we discussed exactly
what we wanted it to be?

- Yes.
- Good music, hip clientele?

- Yes, I remember.
- Especially the hip clientele.

We felt very strongly that
a certain element would, say,

dampen the festive
atmosphere of the place?

- Shit, the Mormons came back?
- Oh, I wish.

Some people say you don't

salt your veal till the very end,

but what are they waiting
for? The roof could cave in.

Outer-space men could land

in your backyard, zap
you right in the tuchus,

then you're dead with unsalted veal.

- Ma.
- Yeah?

- What are you doing here?
- Mm. Joely,

I'm having the best
time with my new friends,

"What's His Name" and "What's Her Name."

They're from somewhere,

and they came here to
celebrate something.

- Archie.
- Yep.

Can I take that?

Uh-uh! If you try,

I'm gonna put you over my knee

and spank you. When he was a boy,

he was so afraid of my hairbrush

that he would hide in my closet,

put on my wig and just lie there

like I wouldn't notice.

Hello, there. You look like
you're about to throw up.

Have a cracker sandwich.

Who else is hungry?

You really should sell
some snacks here, Joel.

But then, of course,

you'd have to turn up the lights
so they could see the menu.

It's so dark in here. I
can't see myself think.

Ma, how long have these
been in your purse?

Oh, God!

- Here you go, Mrs. Maisel.
- I didn't ask for that.

I just thought something warm...

You know, I've had about enough of men

telling me what they think.

I'm sorry.

I think you should drink it.

That's what I think.

Hello, there. I'm Shirley Maisel.

That's my son, Joel, the owner.

Won't be seeing much of him soon because

he's about to have a baby.

He's gonna be at home
cleaning up the poo-poo.

- Ma!
- There he goes again with the "Ma."

Go home.

I can't stay in that house anymore.

Ma, please, you guys
have to figure this out.

He's not gonna retire, Joel.

Of course he's not gonna retire.

He was never gonna retire.

He will die at work yelling
at his yarn guy. Accept it.

Well, his yarn guy is a real schmuck.

I'll get you a cab.

- How come she gets to stay?
- She works here.

- Why?
- Why, what?

Why do you work for my son? It's weird.

Do you two have some sort of
weird sicko thing going on?

Mr. Maisel, I certainly hope
your mother can take a punch.

- Oh, she can.
- Hey, hey, no! Stay...

She won't leave. She's had...
I don't know how many drinks.

- Oh, boy.
- She's got baggies of rotten food.

She's passing them out to
everyone who looks drunk.

So, everyone.

Yeah, that's a lethal
purse if you're not careful.

She keeps trying to turn on the lights.

She keeps asking where we keep the mop.

She hates the music. She wants
everyone to put on a sweater.

Oh, she tried to fight Mrs. Moskowitz.

That seems like a pretty fair fight.

- Pop.
- Sorry.

I'm not gonna have a
club if this continues.

Please, help me with this.

- Yep, I'm on it.
- Thank you.

I found the mop.

Hm...

No, this is why I'll
never cover hockey...

because it's a baseball town.

- Okay?
- Excuse me,

what's Mr. Ford drinking?

- Bourbon and branch.
- One of those, please.

Heavy on the bourbon,
easy on the branch.

The Pirates are gonna repeat.

It's not what I want, but
it's what's gonna happen.

- No, it's gonna be the Yanks.
- Without Stengel?

Good riddance to Stengel.
Don't quote me on that.

Word is, he's talking to the Mets.

The Mets? What's the Mets?

Gordon? Sorry to interrupt. Hi.

Hello, and you are interrupting.

Yes, but I come bearing gifts.

Bourbon and olive branch.

Already got one. Thanks.

This is awkward.

And getting more awkward.

I just wanted to say I'm very sorry

for groaning like that.

It was totally unprofessional.

She groaned during the show, audibly.

Stupidly. Involuntarily.

Oh, so someone forced you?

No, but there was a reason.

Were you going into labor?
That would be a good reason.

I don't know how you women
do it. Having babies...

No. See, it was just...

It was the first joke I got on the show,

and when what happened happened,

I let the emotion of it get to me.

- That was your first joke?
- Yes.

You've been there a number of weeks.

It's a tough room.

- It's the best room in the business.
- Definitely.

Anyhow, when you bobbled the line,

I was just really
disappointed, that's all.

And whatever happens from here on,

please accept my apology.

Fine. I accept your apology.

And I'm sorry I interrupted.

Leave the drink. Bobbled it.

Joke was gonna bomb
whether I bobbled it or not.

Mm...

No, it wasn't.

What do you mean, "No,
it wasn't"? Yes, it was.

No, the joke was good. You
just stumbled over Elmer Fudd.

I didn't stumble over Elmer Fudd.

- Uh, yes, you did.
- No, I didn't.

Kind of want to hear this joke.

Gordon, I'm a comedian.
I know about rhythm.

You blew the joke. It's okay.

- I got the laugh.
- By pointing out

- that you blew the joke.
- I did that on purpose.

You blew a perfectly good
joke so you could point out

to the audience that you
blew a perfectly good joke?

Yes. They love that.

It makes me human, and I got a laugh.

Yeah, but you got the wrong laugh.

A laugh is a laugh.
There is no wrong laugh.

It was a cover laugh.

It's a trick, I've done it myself,

but if you had just done the real joke

correctly, you would've gotten

a bigger laugh, the right laugh.

That joke was gonna bomb. End of story.

- Then why'd you okay it?
- What?

You okay every joke. Are
you saying you okayed a joke

that you knew was destined to bomb?

- Now, wait a minute...
- Or you saying you okayed it,

not knowing it was
gonna bomb till you got

on stage and your special
bomb detector kicked in

and you suddenly knew it was gonna bomb,

so you saved it by blowing it

and getting the wrong laugh?

There is no wrong laugh.

There's absolutely a wrong laugh.

A wrong laugh is a
laugh you get by accident

because you fucked up the right laugh.

That is a wrong goddam laugh.

Now, look here, Miss "I
finally got one fucking joke in

after six months on the job... "

So, you can't read a calendar either?

It's only been a month.

I have been doing this a very long time.

I'm a professional goddamn performer.

Who made a goddamn
mistake and won't admit it.

That is a terrible drink.

There are no wrong laughs.

I was writing

deep into the night. That is,

when I wasn't consulting
Cicero for inspiration.

I hope it will undo at
least some of the damage.

You misspelled "Channing," Abe.

Don't you think you're being
a bit too hard on yourself?

Mm, not according to Cicero.

Okay, here's the bottom line,

I cannot publish a 1,500 word apologia

because you left out one "N."

- How many words should it be?
- 15?

15?

This is the operator,

I have an emergency breakthrough call

for the Weissman household
from Susie Myerson.

- What? No, thank you, operator.
- Hold, please.

Operator, I'm declining it.

Shouldn't you see what
the emergency is, Abe?

We're discussing my emergency.

- Hello?
- Hello?

Who is this? I'm calling for Midge.

Susie? It's Abe. I'm on the phone.

I know. Your damn line's
been busy all morning.

Well, I started the day

trying to call every
Village Voice subscriber

and apologize to them individually.

- Oh, my God.
- Abe, please put Midge on.

Fine. Miriam.

Goodbye, Abe. 15 words.

It's Susie.

- Hello?
- Did you get into a fight

with Gordon Ford in front of everybody,

and I mean everybody in show business

last night at Toots Shor's?

- How in the world did you know?
- It made the papers.

"The usual 'you had to
be there' revelry at Toots

seemed tame compared
to last night's showdown

between Mr. Ford and
his mouthy lady writer."

Sounds bad out of context.

Give me the context.

He flubbed my joke on air,

and I groaned on air,

but it was an accidental
groan, and I apologized.

"It was a shocking moment,
as late night television's

boy wonder lost his trademark cool.

The aforementioned lady writer

might want to start
polishing her résumé,

in another line of work,

in another city, across state lines."

Oh, my God.

I am building up quite a scrapbook

with all your clippings, you know that?

Help me out. What-what
do I do? Apologize again?

Normally, I'd say yes,

but, apparently, you
aren't great at that.

I mean, I have to go
in on Monday, right?

I-I have to show my face.

Yes, you do, and bring a box.

A box? Why should I bring a box?

Well, you know, when you get fired,

you want to have a box
to put your stuff in,

so bring a nice, big box.

Well, I don't have an office,
so I don't have a lot of stuff.

A small box will do.

I am so glad we figured
out the size of the box

you're gonna bring on
Monday when they fire you.

So, you definitely
think I'm getting fired?

I'll make some calls.

It's a Saturday, so all these fuckers

are gonna be off golfing or
whacking off on their boats.

Oh, shit.

What? You think it's them? To fire me?

Don't panic. I'll-I'll keep you posted.

Okay. Bye.

Susie Myerson and Associates.

Wait, what?

Come to where?

- Who are you?
- Who are you?

I'm Susie Myerson.

Get out of here.

- No.
- You?

Yeah. Why?

I pictured someone taller, thicker.

- Although...
- Watch it.

Now, who the hell are you?

Hilarious.

Thank you for the gift,
by the way. Very clever.

- What gift?
- The call.

Someone tells me there's
a gift at my door,

courtesy of Susie
Myerson and Associates.

I opened the door, and a
fleet of cops hauls me off

for a crime I did not commit.

Oh, that gift.

- You're welcome, Miss...
- Molly is dead.

- Who's Molly?
- My Irish associate.

She got the same call,

had a heart attack,
dropped dead in the kitchen.

- Jesus.
- Our Jewish friend

is on a plane to Argentina.

Miss Em is AWOL.

Who the fuck are all of you people?

What do you mean, "who are we"?

Didn't Rose Weissman send you?

Yes.

Rose sent me.

- You sure?
- Well,

who can be sure of
anything in life, right?

This is bullshit, by the way.

Framing me for a
ridiculous tea room fire?

It's not gonna work.

Hang on a second, that was you?

You burned down the
greatest fucking tea room

in the history of tea rooms?

Never mind the tea, have you
ever had their whipped cream?

- What?
- I don't know what they did to it,

whether it's extra cream or extra sugar

or a combination of both,

maybe it's the pinch of nutmeg.

God knows I have tried to make
it at home and failed miserably,

but there is something
about that whipped cream.

I hope you get the fucking chair.

I didn't realize Rose
Weissman had protection.

Well, she does,

and a gun, and she'll use it.

- She's not just gonna wave it around or something.
- Okay.

Fine. You got me.

Can we just get down to this, please?

Down to what?

Rose Weissman can keep
the Upper West Side.

She just can't go above
125th or below 60th.

Now that Molly's dead,

she can take Hell's
Kitchen if she wants,

but she better bone up on
limericks and the potato famine.

What? Not good enough?

Hey, I'm just the muscle.

I'll take it to Rose, see what she says.

Female muscle. Shit. I
should have thought of that.

Yeah, they never see you coming.

Well, not you.

Well, it's been a delight.

That outfit suits you, by the way.

Some women your age just
look silly in stripes.

Tell Rose Weissman this is a good deal.

Hey, if they just booked
you, why are you here?

Why aren't you in the county jail?

I have priors.

So...

- this is different.
- Can't believe it.

He was supposed to help
me with her. Instead,

he's taking up two tables over there,

and she shows up at the
door, first thing she does

is ask for a family
and friends discount.

Did you give it to her?

Well, she's my mother.

Can you believe it?

She's telling me how to pick a melon?

I can sniff out a ripe
melon in Jersey if I had to.

You should've slapped her face.

I just had a manicure.

- Prunes do nothing.
- They do something for me.

Bullshit. It's got
nothing to do with food.

Willpower and a schedule.

What if you have to be
somewhere? What're you gonna do?

I could pull the fire alarm
and clear the place out.

And then they'll just come
back tomorrow with their rabbi,

barber, and canasta club. Oh, good.

Your dad's friend pulled a nickel

out of the waitress's ear again.

Hey. Hi. What are you guys staring at?

In this corner,

the undefeated purse snacks
champ, Shirley Maisel.

And in that corner, the challenger

and prune skeptic, Moishe Maisel.

And they are not together?

Not by a long shot.

- So, two bad tippers.
- Bye, folks.

Come again. Who am I kidding?

Well, sorry that your
dreams are coming to an end,

but before they do,
can I get ten minutes

- when the band breaks?
- An apology

and some music lessons would help a lot.

Fuck this shit.

- You're on.
- Moishe, we were

- enjoying the music.
- Everyone's so sensitive these days.

That's it?

Is the band coming back?

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

- I'm Mrs. Maisel...
- Miriam!

That's my former
daughter-in-law. Miriam!

- So pale.
- What are you doing up there?

- I'm going to do my act.
- For who?

For all the nice people looking
very perplexed right now.

Leave her alone, Shirley.

If she wants to try and tell a joke,

let her learn the hard way.

My butcher is funnier. He's not funny.

Nice-looking. She should sing.

I'm not a singer,

but I am currently a
writer for The Gordon...

Wait, I was distracted.
Miriam, start your act again.

I haven't really started
my act yet, Shirley.

Trust me, when she starts
it, you won't laugh.

Pop, shut up.

Shut up, he says, the fruit of my loins.

If you're not gonna help, then get out.

I am helping.

She needs to rethink this career.

- Who else would tell her?
- Miriam,

ignore him. Pretend he's not there.

Okay, so, I am a single
woman living in New York.

Me too.

You're not single, Ma.

- Joel, really?
- Sorry.

Have you ladies ever
approached a subway station,

and it's really dark at
the bottom of the stairs?

They don't light them properly.

That was a rhetorical question, Shirley.

She only asked it to set something up.

Not that it was going anywhere.

So, the other night, I'm heading down

these really dark stairs, and...

You didn't have a flashlight?

I have two.

One for light

and one to use as a weapon.

- She's so small.
- Shirley, you're blinding me.

Just like the attacker.
That's good, right?

Okay, moving on.

Uh, yesterday, the principal tells me

my son is sleeping during class...

What happened to Ethan?

- He's sleeping in class.
- Why?

Because he doesn't drink
coffee? I don't know.

Okay, folks, the show is up here.

I-I... forgot where I was.

For the love of God, do not start again.

Here, I have a joke.

Guy walks into a bar

holding a one-foot-tall
man playing the piano.

The bartender says,

"My genie must be hard of hearing.

I didn't ask for a 12-inch pianist."

Miriam, there you are.

I have to tell you, I thought
you were just terrific up there.

Gee, thank you, Shirley.

I enjoyed every minute of it.

Is this how your shows always go?

No. Most of the time,
I get to tell a joke.

Really? That's so interesting.

Well, it was a delight.

Listen, while I have you here,

I need some information from you.

- About?
- Mei.

Where is she? Joel told me

she was interviewing for a doctor job.

Yes. She was.

- How long does that take?
- I don't, I don't really know.

How many questions can they
ask? When I go to the doctor,

all he does is take my
pulse and bum a cigarette.

Well, I think it's a bit
more involved than that.

- So, you do know something.
- Me? No.

Just tell me, is she
carrying high or low?

I've been knitting pink
booties and blue booties.

I'm completely in the dark.

- Well...
- This baby can't come into the world with cold feet.

What a terrible start.

- Shirley...
- I'm going crazy, Miriam.

Please, just tell me. Something.

Anything.

I think she went to visit her family.

- Where's her family?
- In... China.

Wasn't there a revolution in China?

Yes, there was, which is
why she's not back yet.

Did she enlist?

No, it's just, there's
a lot of red tape.

Get it? Never mind. She'll be home soon.

Will you excuse me?
I-I think I left the...

You didn't tell Shirley
about Mei, did you?

- Why?
- Because she just grilled me in the ladies' room about Mei.

"Why is she gone so long?
When is she coming back?

Is she carrying high or low?"

Your mother has a terrible
doctor, by the way.

She really needs to see someone else.

Anyhow, I was cornered, so I said

she was visiting her family in China

and she can't get out because
of the revolution and then I ran.

You said Mei was in China?

I didn't know what to say, Joel.

How is it when other people
don't know what to say,

they say, "I don't know what to say,"

but when you don't know
what to say, you say,

"She's in China and can't get out

'cause there's a revolution."

- Because I'm an artist, Joel.
- Great.

Hey, this is not my fault.

I know.

I'm sorry. It's mine. I...

Really, I'll fix it.

Okay.

Are you gonna fix it now, or should I...

Back way's good.

Why are you grunting?

- Did you do this?
- You woke me up. Do what?

Move Ethan off his Saturday sleep mark?

He was in the way of the bathroom.

Well, hop over him. We
all agreed, we'd hop.

I never agreed to hop.

Well, then hold it in till morning.

You know what? This
whole thing is ridiculous.

Papa, stop.

He'll never know he was
off his Saturday sleep mark.

Papa, we are on a path with this

and we need to stick to it.

The whole point of this is trust,

and if he wakes up and
he's not where he's been,

he may not know where he is.

He's lived here all his
life. He'll know where he is.

Do not move him off his
mark again. Promise me.

I make no promises.

Papa.

You claim to be a man of science.

I don't claim, I am.

This is science, and
you are the last person

- who should be doubting it.
- Miriam,

you know full well I'm experiencing

a dark night of the soul

from this whole Carol Channing thing.

Please, stop further
assassinating my character.

Remember the cookie?

The cookie? What cookie?

When I was seven, you took
a black and white cookie

and you broke it into
16 parts, remember?

- No.
- It was a reward system.

Each time I proved to you I
could properly use a semicolon,

I got a piece of cookie and then Noah

found my cookie pieces and ate them

and when I told you
what he did, you said,

"I don't want to hear about this.

Work it out amongst yourselves."

So?

You abandoned me and my cookie lesson,

and to this day I have no
idea how to use a semicolon.

It's used to indicate a pause,

- usually between two...
- Too late.

Do not move him.

Mommy?

Hello?

Whoa, slow down, Pop.

I'm sorry, I didn't get that last...

What? Pop? Are you in a closet?

Why are you so...

I can't... I don't...

I... I'm coming over.

Hello?

Ma? Pop?

Joel!

What are you doing here?

Is everything all right? When you called

you sounded like you
had a bag over your head.

I thought you'd been kidnapped.

No, not kidnapped.

I did have a bag over my head, though.

- Why?
- Trying to muffle the sound.

- Of what?
- Sensitive topics.

- Neighbors have ears.
- Moishe?

It's okay. It's my son, Joel.

All right, you're here. Be useful.

What do you mean, "be
useful"? What's going on here?

Shh. Why are you yelling? Read the room.

Listen, we're gonna get her out.

- Get who out?
- Your girl. It's all planned,

- just a couple more details.
- What's planned?

Now, I didn't want to
involve you directly...

plausible deniability...
but as long as you're here,

- you can answer a few questions.
- Pop...

Don't worry. These are the guys

that got the 13 Jews out of Germany.

- Oh, no.
- They are the best.

That one there is the
original guy's son.

The original guy's dead

and the son's a bit of a
yutz, but he has the plane.

Pop, I have to talk to you.

I know, communication seems
very important to you today.

Later. For now, when you
say she's in China... where?

I mean, I know it's a big
place. I don't need an address,

- unless you have one.
- There's no address.

Okay. Is there a street name, perhaps?

Or a landmark? Uh,
maybe a library nearby?

He's asking what the
weather's like. They run cold.

Really? These guys are the best?

You know a good extraction team

that's just hanging
around waiting to extract?

No.

Oh. Mmm.

Shirley, we're working here.

I don't see anyone complaining
about some fresh Danish, do you?

They're planning a very
sensitive covert mission.

They can't think with
you galloping in and out

like you're pulling a
carriage around Central Park!

If I'm a horse, then you're an ass.

Okay, enough barnyard animal insults.

Can you two, please j...

There's something I
have to tell you guys.

What's the matter?

It's about Mei and me.

There is no more Mei and me.

No. Joely, don't worry, we're
getting her out of China.

She's not in China,
Ma. She's in Chicago.

Oh, well that should be easier.

She moved to Chicago, Ma.

- But...
- The... the baby.

There's no baby anymore.

Oh, no. Oh, Joel.

She lost it?

Yeah. She lost it.

I'm so sorry.

Oh, honey.

But you can try again
when you get married.

We're not getting married, Ma.

- Are you okay?
- Sure.

Would you like something to
eat? There's so much food.

- So much food.
- No.

Thank you. I have work to do.

I'm gonna make you a to-go package.

I better tell the boys.

It was supposed to come in
today. They said they mailed it.

Uh...

The Gordon Ford Show.

Yes, you are right.

Thank you for bringing
that to our attention.

- Thank you. Thank you.
- Oh, good.

You brought a box.

Everyone to the railing.

- To the railing, people.
- Railing, guys.

All right, listen, guys,

we have too many relatives
coming to the shows.

Mothers, brothers, uncles, aunts.

They're not the best
laughers. Show some restraint?

- Yes, Mr. Ford.
- You got it.

Got couple other things
we got to deal with, too.

Morning, all.

- Look who's here.
- Okay,

looks like George brought
a few of the network bigwigs

down for an unexpected visit.

Hello, Charlie. Hello, Isaac.

Hello, third person I don't know.

Syd Greenberg, Mr. Ford.

This is a friendly ambush, we swear.

Not sure there is such a thing.

Come on up.

We'll finish this later.

The young bears seen here

are not just play-fighting,

they're learning
necessary defensive skills.

- Throughout the first...
- Ethan.

Time for bed.

I sleep in spot number three tonight.

How about sleeping in your bed tonight?

My therapist says I'm not ready yet.

Okay.

After that...

Okay, now, Ethan.

Look at me and not at
the bear on TV. Up here.

Hello. Now, Ethan,

we must discuss

the rationale behind your
sleeping in the hallway,

or the very lack of it, actually.

I understand that, for some reason,

you are afraid of your bed.

Well, you should know that fear

is very natural.

It's there to help you survive.

It tells you to run when
something large with teeth

is going to eat you,

or to duck when a rock has
been thrown at your head.

And there are so many
things in this life

to be legitimately afraid of.

Have you heard of Park Slope?

- No.
- Recently,

a United Airlines airplane

and a Trans World airplane

collided in midair, just...

flew right into each other,

and the wreckage rained down

onto a Park Slope intersection,

killing every passenger on board

and six people on the ground.

Six people just walking down the street,

going to the market or to school

or the movies, got instantly crushed

by falling pieces of flaming metal

and various arms

and legs and torsos

from previously intact bodies.

That's pretty scary, right?

- Yes.
- Yes, it is.

There are wars,

floods, sometimes tigers
escape from the zoo.

Lightning can strike
you, even on a sunny day.

You could eat bad
clams and be evacuating

from every orifice in
your body for a week.

- But I hate clams.
- Hating clams won't keep you safe, Ethan.

Y-You could fall down a well
that you never knew was there.

Go flying through a windshield

when your daddy stops too fast.

You could accidentally spell

Carol Channing's name wrong

and instantly become a man
who must be apologized for...

in print.

Yes.

Yes, I think you're beginning

to understand what I'm telling you.

It's time you learn to live with fear.

To accept it's there,

and there is not
enough tape in the world

to keep you safe.

And though your mommy and your daddy

and possibly even your therapist

mean well by making you think

that sleeping on the floor is a mark

of being a big brave boy,

your grandpa is here to tell you

death comes for all of us,

even the brave.

Now,

would you like me to
read you a bedtime story?

How has

working with Thelonious
Monk influenced how you play?

Well, no one hits the
keys like Thelonious.

- No, no argument here.
- He finds notes

I didn't even know existed,

and I can't say I haven't
borrowed a few over the years.

Well, what with Blue Train

and Giant Steps,

you've been hitting all the
right notes lately, John.

Thank you so much for
being here tonight.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the great John Coltrane.

Yeah. Oh. Hold it, everybody.

I got a little announcement
to make. As of this week,

The Gordon Ford Show is the number one

talk show in the country.

Yes! Yes.

I have you, my viewers,

to thank for that.
Bring it out here, guys.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
I don't thank them enough,

my staff, my crew, my writers.
Come on out here, guys.

They are the best in the business.

I would not be here
tonight without them.

Grab some champagne, everybody,

and grab some at home, folks.

We'll see you tomorrow.

What are we thinking, Toots Shor's?

- We can't all fit into Toots Shor's.
- Ooh.

Ah, forget Toots Shor's.
I know the perfect place.

Oh, my God.

Whoo!

Hey!

Whoo!

You guys are crazy.

Come on down here. It's a party.

You're not Jack Paar spies, are you?

Hey, hey.

Hey. Miriam.

Miriam!

What is all this?

We're number one.

- What?
- Well, they are. I might be.

- What?
- I'm not sure yet.

What?

Someone down here is number one.

- What?!
- Jesus Christ.

Come down here.

We're number one.

Gordon announced it
at the end of the show.

Wow, they did it. They really did it.

Hey, Maisel, get out here.

Are-are you sure?

- Well, you're on skates.
- Oh, no,

I wore these to the office
today. This is fashion.

Yippee!

Guess you're not fired.

Guess not.

Can you skate or is this really fashion?

Well, seriously, it's less nuts

than a lot of your other getups.

I'll have you know I
played a magic snowball

in the Hadassah Women's Zionist
Organization winter pageant,

and Sonja Henie was there,

and she strongly encouraged my
parents to get me some lessons.

- Yeah, that's not a compliment.
- Fine.

- You watch.
- I'm watching.

Number one, Gordon!

We're number one!

There you go.

Too cool for skates?

Not anymore, apparently.

- Need a medic?
- Thanks, I'm good.

I was a candy striper in college,

so I have some medical skills.

They called me the Enema Queen.

Well, I don't need one of
those, but if I ever do...

You're making me dizzy.

Oh, if I had a nickel...

Okay, all right, maybe I
need a little bit of help.

Glad to be of service.

Ooh! What was that?

What do you think?

I... think you tried to kiss me.

Yeah, that's pretty much what that was.

Didn't stick the landing, though.

I'm sorry, but don't you hate me?

How could I hate those eyes, those lips?

Toots Shor's. I yelled at you, a lot.

Are you kidding? That was fantastic.

It was Tracy-Hepburn.

Loy and Powell. Robinson-La Motta.

In the paper it was more
like, "Insubordinate nobody

yells at major TV personality."

Look at us now, number one.

I won that argument, by the way.

Oh, but that's...

- Biting your tongue?
- No.

- Well, then can I?
- Aren't you married?

I'm not that kind of married.

Mm, I think that's what my husband

told his girlfriend before
he became my ex-husband.

He sounds like a cad.

Your butt getting cold?

I'll admit, I can't feel it,

but you can, if you want.

And with that, she skated
off into the sunset.

This is a sight I never thought I'd see.

Yeah, well, Sonja Henie
told me to take lessons, too.

I told her to suck it, Norwegian style.

And I got to hit the john.

There's one by the skate rental.

A toilet that's been peed
on by a million little kids

who can't get their tights
down in time? No thanks.

I'll find something sanitary.

Mike, you seen George?

I've looked all over.
He needs to sign this.

Yeah, bet he does. Gimme.

Been forging George's goddamn signature

for ten goddamn years.

Illegible G, loopy R.

- Hey there, Mike.
- I just want to know,

is yours the last face
I'll see in this life?

I just wanted to say congratulations.

Not bad, number one.

Yeah, doesn't stink.

Why aren't you celebrating?

I booked Truman Capote

for next week, but he's
doing Jack Paar this week,

so I got to cancel 'cause we got a rule.

And Doris Day's ostrich
got sick, so she postponed.

Yeah, she's got an ostrich.

And the British band that
I don't even like fell out

because their drummer died
in a hot air balloon accident.

My talent board is a mess,

and my talent board is all I care about.

Well, that and the Christmas tree lot.

It's a farm, not a lot.

I stand corrected.

You know, we're bringing
Sophie Lennon back this week.

I did not know.

She's a good guest.

People tune in for her, so... thanks.

I'm sorry, little louder?

You really drop her?

After getting her on that
game show? All that's true?

I have my priorities.

What about the money?

Money comes, money goes.

Let's lunch next week,

if you're available.

Really? A real lunch?

Yeah, a real lunch.

I don't have to make
it? Someone else will?

- Yes.
- And it's not lunch

where I show up, and you say, "Fuck off,

- keep walking"?
- Closing my door now.

My girl'll call your girl.

Ethan.

You're supposed to be
on spot three tonight.

Did you know about the
Park Slope plane crash?

Been spending time with Grandpa?

He told me about the torsos.

Yep.

And tigers escape from zoos

and get hit by lightning.

Go to sleep, baby. I'll
keep the tigers out.

- And the torsos?
- And the torsos.

Yup.

Moishe...

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -