Original subtitles

Ladies and gentlemen... Boys and Muslims...

...the new featherweight champ of Mercy, Amaar Rashid!

Okay. Enough, everybody. Enough.

It was just a charity boxing match. Over and forgotten.

It's over, all right,

and I'm sure Thorne wishes it was forgotten.

You defended the honor of Islam against the Christian marauders.

Baber, nobody was marauding.

It's all right here.

"Local dog amuses all"?

Your story's on page three.

To be fair, that dog was terrific.

I'm not proud of what I did.

Not proud? It's the first good thing you've done for the mosque.

I think I've done good things for the mosque.

And I like to think I look like a brown Sean Connery.

The name is Siddiqui. Baber Siddiqui.

I just wish this whole thing would go away.

Memories are short.

I'm sure people will soon forget that you pummeled a priest.

Though, not as long as Thorne wears that neck brace.

Hey, Mom.

What's wrong?

It's your father. He's on the phone with his mother.

I can only image what she's saying about me.

"That woman can't cook falafels. That woman can't cook tabbouleh."

Grandma has a point, Mom. You don't actually cook tabbouleh.

Oh, and then, there's the neurosis, and the manipulations.

- The hypochondria. - Oh, she doesn't have that.

She just thinks she does.

You can't let her get to you.

Of course, I can.

That is the woman who tried to get your father a second wife.

But dad loves her, so what can you do?

And I love your father,

so as long as he thinks that nasty lady is a loving mother, I'll play along.

Oh, I have a plan. Whenever he mentions her name, I'll just keep my mouth shut.

Okay, terrible news. Mother Hamoudi suffered a fall.

It's her hip. She needs me in Lebanon.

What do you think?

You have no thoughts on the matter?

Not one at all?

Nothing? Zero? Zilch?

I guess not.

That's so unlike her.

Usually, she'd say that this is some kind of an evil plot

by my hateful mother to separate us.

Well, maybe she doesn't feel that way anymore. Right, Mom?

Well, wonderful. I'll go off and make my arrangements then.

I guess I can leave Yousef in charge while I'm gone.

Are you okay?

That plan in killing me.

Too much breath holding. Time for plan C.

- Don't you mean plan B? - No, plan B never works.

- Baby steps. - Okay.

Rev, can I just have a word with you, please?

Amaar, please, contain your fiery Middle Eastern rage.

Haven't you done enough damage?

Look, ladies, I just wanna talk to the Reverend, please.

No, ladies, the Christian thing for me to do is to hear Amaar out.

Oh, wow, and after all you've been through.

But use your words, not your mitts, okay?

Come on, when have you known me to loose my temper?

We'll be right here if you need us and I've got pepper spray in my purse.

Look, uh, Reverend...

- Mm-hmm. - ...About the fight,

I just feel terrible. I mean, it was one lucky punch.

Well, lucky for me, not so lucky for you.

It was the luckiest punch.

- There was some skill. - But mainly luck.

Look, I don't wanna debate who won

and who had their cassock handed to them, but...

What was it you wanted again?

Okay. The fight was not my proudest moment

and I just wanted to apologize.

Oh, well, of course. Yes. Apology accepted.

Oh, God.

Burger or a sloppy-joe?

That's what my old dad would call a toughie.

They are both just hamburger.

Well, they are not. I mean... Oh, hey!

Bringing your work home with you?

- Or wait, are you doing house calls now? - Oh, no, just a favor for a friend.

Rafida turned her ankle.

Oh, I was going to have a tea, actually.

You should have thought of that before I anticipated coffee.

Rayyan Hamoudi.

Baber. An emergency?

Okay, all right, I'll be right there.

I gotta go.

Got it. I'm gonna have a great big plate of...

Coffee? Certainly.

You know, coffee goes right through me.

- Hello. - Hi.

Look, I know I apologized.

And I accepted. Yes, I was there.

But it's not enough. I've been thinking and I need to make amends.

Amends? We're not in the middle ages.

You didn't kill my donkey or give the plague to my serf.

Just let it go. Okay? I have.

Oh, my back is so itchy.

- Do you need help with that? - Yeah.

- Okay? - Ah, yes, yes. Ah, yes.

Look, in Islam, making amends in this world is important.

Really? How interesting. So how many goats do I get for whiplash?

Goats.

Look, I feel that the only way to find God's forgiveness

is to be of service to you.

Now, I like the sound of this.

So, uh, what can I do for you?

Well, now that you ask, I would love some of Fatima's chili.

And if you go by the drugstore, some antacid.

- But the drugstore is all the way across. - Yes.

No problem.

Great. Look, my wallet is in my back...

Oh, no, no, don't do that. I'll pay for it.

Really? Thank you.

Oh, um, and I almost forgot, my cassock. I need my cassock from the cleaners.

- Right. - And how's your shorthand?

I need to dictate a letter to the bishop.

Unless you didn't mean what you said about helping.

No, no. I meant it. I meant it.

Good. I suspect I'll need a lot of help.

I should have just gotten you the goat.

Baber?

- What happened? - Oh, my trick back.

I was trying to get closer to God, and blamo,

I ended up closer to the floor.

Okay, sit up.

Try this.

- Why, it's like ice. - It is ice.

That explains it.

Now, this.

Ouch!

- I'm on fire. - It's a heat pack.

You've harnessed the powers of both hot and cold.

Years of medical correspondence school have finally paid off.

- Does your back feel any better? - Not at all.

Wait.

Yes. It does.

How can I thank you for this house call?

First, I don't do house calls.

And second, just try not to bend over, okay?

Done and done.

- You tried to bend over, didn't you? - Yes, I did.

Hi, honey.

- What have you got there? - A gift basket for your mother.

- Why? - See.

Bath oils, bath salts, bath bombs.

Why? She has a broken hip. She can't get in the tub.

Sarah, do you want her to drown?

No, I wanna be nice.

I hate to belabor the point.

But again, why?

Do I need a reason to be nice to your mother?

Yes, you do. Very much.

I am not trying to trick you. I was going to,

but I couldn't think of a trick that would work.

Besides, you love her. I love you.

It's important that we get along.

So, I hereby, bury the hatchet with your mother.

Well, I'm sorry for doubting the world's best wife.

You're making it very difficult for me to tear myself away from you

to go and look after the world's best mother.

Baber says you do house calls.

That's the truth, sister.

No. I do not do house calls, okay?

Methinks the doctor doth protest too much.

Sometimes the odd emergency will come...

Like this?

Oh, okay.

Thank you for that, Fatima. And I'm done.

So, is it serious? Do I need to re-write my will?

No, you need to stay away from wool. That's contact dermatitis.

I have an "itis."

So, that is the end of Fatima.

How long do I have?

We will get you some cortisone cream

and you'll be good as new.

Thank you for the house call.

You're welcome, and it's not a house call. It's just a favor for a friend.

Be careful, or soon it will all be special favors.

Like, dressing on the side or salad instead of fries,

or "Can I have the food I ordered?"

I think I can handle it.

Hey, toots, can I get a salad instead of fries?

No.

Darling? Darling, wonderful news.

Really? Your mother's better.

No, it's my trip.

I just can't bear the thought of being away from my loving, charitable wife.

Oh, that is so sweet.

Oh, I'm sure your mother will be fine without you

and I can just ship her the gift basket.

Or you can give it to her yourself.

Oh, that's just silly. She can't travel with a broken hip.

Ta-da!

- That's a plane ticket. - Surprise! You're coming, too!

- What? - Yeah. Imagine,

you helping her through physical therapy.

Her shouting

- curt but helpful orders at you. - Oh.

You and Mother Hamoudi together, 24/7.

Sharing the glory that is Lebanon.

I could just see it.

Oh, me, too. Oh!

- Hi, Fred. - What's up, doc?

Just late for work.

Come inside for a minute. That's all I need, I swear.

This is medical. Make an appointment.

I'm too busy, you know, Tupper time is money time.

Well, Hamoudi time is nine to five in my office.

Well, hey, you did house calls for the Maliks and Baber and Fatima.

- It'll just take a second. - Fred.

Does it mean anything that it throbs in the shower?

Inappropriate. Call my office.

Well, does it? Ow!

I can't go to Lebanon, I have a job.

Take some of the vacation time you've banked.

This is one time I don't need your help.

Sarah, lying got you into this mess, there's only one way to get you out.

I know, but lying makes Yasir so happy.

I can't tell him the truth now.

Who said tell him the truth?

Mama's talking driving for the border in a Chevy like Thelma and Louise.

- They died. - We don't know that.

Hi, Ann, you wanted to see me?

Rayyan, I'm feeling a little punk. I need a B12 shot.

Oh, you can make an appointment.

Or we could go around the corner.

Nothing the parking lot attendant hasn't seen before.

Thanks for the house call.

- I don't do house calls. - Sure, you do.

Hey, Amaar, want to give the old pigskin a toss?

As tempting as a pigskin is for a Muslim, I'll pass.

Come on, it'll be fun.

I don't like football.

Not fun for you. Fun for me.

Okay. Fine.

Too bad Thorne's too hurt to play.

Yeah, Thorne. He's faking it.

You can't fake handsome.

No, I'm talking about his neck.

I saw him with his brace off, he was practically doing cartwheels.

I don't get it. Why would he fake an injury?

Hi, Mrs. Wispinski, how are you?

Amaar.

Turn everyone against me and the mosque.

Huh, I guess there's one way to find whether the priest is faking.

- The old Hail Mary. - No!

- Reverend! - Yes?

Oh, my God. Oh, no!

Oh, my back.

My back.

Oh, my back. My back.

- Amaar, what is wrong with you? - Are you all right?

I'm in a great deal of pain.

- Just get away from him. - I have no words for you.

I've got a lot of them. They all start with the As.

Ladies, ladies, please. Jesus enjoined us to turn the other cheek.

You know, I'll turn your other cheek!

Can I do anything? Something? Anything?

- Could you drive me to the hospital? - I don't have a car.

- Then you can do nothing. - It's okay, Reverend.

We'll walk you. The clinic's only a couple blocks away.

Are you okay? Oh, dear!

- This is... - I could walk you.

You want me to walk you? Please, let me walk you.

You know, I don't think he's faking it.

Sorry about bailing. I didn't wanna get in trouble there.

We're cool though, right?

That's right, folks. It's not really a pierogi, unless it's a McEgg pierogi.

Also try McEgg's Matzah balls.

Ach-oy!

A taste of old Scotland that's worth a schlep.

So, you say you got my mail by accident. Why didn't you just put it in my mailbox?

It was marked urgent, so I figured you'd wanna get it right away.

This is addressed to occupant.

It was so important, they didn't have time to write your name on it.

Fred, I don't do house calls, and get that gammy foot out of my face.

So, it's two-tier healthcare, huh?

House calls to the Muslims, and not for a whitey.

No. I don't...

I don't do house calls for anyone.

Nobody. No house calls, period. I don't do them.

You know, I don't wanna sabotage the trip, honey,

but we haven't really thought the details through.

Mm?

I mean, all the work commitments and the promises

and the people we would leave in the lurch.

You're right, darling. People will be lurched, severely lurched.

We can't just drop everything and run off to Lebanon.

What were we thinking?

We can't abandon Hamoudi Construction in the middle of the Mercy Anglican.

- We can't. - We can't.

- Oh, I was so looking forward to going. - You were?

- I was. - You can still go.

- Oh, I wish I could. - You can.

- I can't. - Yes, you can.

- No, I really, really can't. - Think about it.

You buried the hatched with Mother Hamoudi, right?

- Right. - I can take care of business.

- You can go for me. - Wait a minute,

did I just say "right"?

You could feed, bathe and nurture my beloved mother all alone.

Darling, you're hurting me. Darling!

Oh! Oh, my Lord!

I didn't mean to take Him in vain, but boy, howdy.

Ladies, I'll survive.

- How are you going to make it through? - I have some help.

I've the hymnals here. Where do you want them?

Uh, just put them in the attic.

That's where I got them from.

Silly me, I'm so confused, must be all the pain killers.

Oh.

Oh, Amaar, and you're helping, that's very Christian of you.

- I was gonna say that. - You didn't, did you?

It's until the Rev feels better.

Although, I googled soft tissue injuries

and apparently they take weeks, even months to heal.

Great.

But I remain optimistic.

Me, too.

"Need your help, baby"? Oh, Fred, give it up.

- Hey, there. - Oh! Fred!

This has gotta stop.

What is the deal? You're my doctor.

I'm your patient. Why does it matter?

If it doesn't matter, then let's talk at the office. Goodbye.

Know what your problem is, Florence of Arabia? You got no respect.

I've got no respect? What about you? You're waiting outside my house.

You're calling me and you're texting me.

I haven't been texting you.

Of course, you have, and I don't appreciate your tone.

"Answer your phone, baby." "Baby, where are you?"

I mean, that's inappropriate and offensive. "Baby"?

- Come on, Fred. - I haven't been calling you "baby".

That's not my number and the message reads,

"Answer your phone. Baby. Baby. Where are you?"

My God, Christine Middleton. Her due date is...

Oh, my God! Oh!

I... Darling, terrible news. I just got off the phone with my mother.

Oh, how is the poor dear?

Your compassion is like a dagger through my heart.

I can't bear it. It's terrible.

Yasir, what's wrong?

When I told her that you were coming instead of me, she...

How can I put this?

She shouted and shouted until she hung up on me.

I will call her when my hearing returns.

Sweetie, don't take it so hard.

Well, how could I not?

You put your bad feelings aside. She won't. I feel horrible.

Well, what if I told you that when I said I put those bad feelings aside, I was...

How shall I put this? Lying.

- You were lying? - I was.

- To me? - To you.

Darling!

- That's wonderful. - Oh!

Good, too, 'cause I didn't suspect a thing.

I learnt from the best.

I'm very proud.

Well, you see, the truth is, I do not love your mother,

but I still think that you should go to Lebanon.

- What about Hamoudi Constructions? - I'll run it.

How can one man have such a wonderful, lie-telling wife?

You are so lucky.

- Okay. - Yeah.

You're the full ten centimeters, looking good.

- Sorry I didn't return your texts. - Where were you?

House calls can be a little bit of an imposition on a doctor.

Get this thing out of me, now!

Okay. All right. On three, we're gonna push.

One, two...

Okay, two is good.

Little Chester, born on the Chesterfield.

What was I thinking?

Sure, house calls can be annoying, but sometimes they are worth it.

Yes, they are.

It's still too hot.

There he is. Mr. Wonderful.

Ladies, please.

How much good can one man do? Amaar, you are a real blessing.

Excuse me?

Thank you, Mrs. Hobbs, I just want be of service.

You know, I think it's marvelous how you lead by example, Amaar.

You've come a long way

from the bare-knuckled brawler you used to be.

Yes, he's great.

Did I mention that I can't feel my toes?

You know, we have everything to learn about sin and repentance from you.

- Oh, that's very nice of you to say. - Yes, it is.

But more importantly, ladies... No more soup.

Thank you.

More importantly, I wanna just thank you for your prayers,

they've made a huge difference.

I... I can feel it.

- You feel better? - Yes. Not just...

Not just better. I think...

I'm healed! I'm healed!

I'm healed.

It's all thanks to the power of your prayers and His divine will.

- It's a miracle. - Yes.

- I am gonna spread the word. - So am I.

- No. - Yes, I am.

- Excuse me. - You just watch me.

Don't you even open that door.

Well, Amaar, it appears my miracle cure has trumped your redemptive tale.

Point, Thorne.

It's not a game. It's about doing what's right.

So, whether I hurt you for real or not,

I'm sorry, okay?

I don't know why you're apologizing, we don't have an audience. No one heard.

- Well, the one who really matters did. - Fatima?

No, not Fatima. I'm talking about God.

Ouch, the God-card.

There.

Mom, you're going to Lebanon with dad?

That's big of you.

Oh, good God, no. I'm no saint. Those are you father's bags.

As much as it pains me to leave you both, I'll be back before you know it.

I don't know. A broken hip? That could take weeks to heal.

- Months, even. - Months?

- I'm gonna miss you, darling. - Months?

Don't worry, we'll talk on the phone.

- Months? - Once Mother Hamoudi gets her gift basket,

she'll be your biggest fan.

Oh, no, this baby's mine.

You know, I don't have to leave for the airport for another hour.

Hmm.

Okay, I'm gonna get going now. Uh, Dad, I love you.

- Travel safe, okay? - Of course, darling.

- Bye. - Bye.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Yes, bath bomb.

For two.