Everybody Loves Raymond (1996–2005): Season 6, Episode 12 - Season's Greetings - full transcript

Marie writes a letter to include with her Christmas cards - it insults Debra and praises Marie. They decide to write a letter together. Raymond is heavily praised and Robert is not. Robert wants to include his own information.

-Hi, Marie.
- Oh, hi, dear.

Thanks for watching
the kids.

I really needed
to get to the dentist.

It's wonderful you take
all this time for yourself.

Thank you.

What are you
working on there?

It's a Barone family
Christmas letter.

I want to keep people
up-to-date

on what we've all
been doing.

Don't forget to mention
my new filling.

Maybe next year.



These have to go out
this afternoon.

I'll go round up
the kids.

Okay.

Oh, lady,

you are out
of your ever-loving mind!

Marie!

Oh my God! Honey,
are you all right?

Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.

What the hell are you--

You should look
where you're going.

Let me get you some ice.

Marie, forget the ice.

Who are you
sending this to?

You know,
family and friends.



Here, put this broccoli
on your head.

You cannot send this out.

I don't understand.

"Debra's cooking
is coming along.

Someday I might even
consider her for a job

at Chez Marie."

You're considering me

for a job
in your restaurant?

It's not
a real restaurant.

It's make-believe!

What about this?

"Debra is outnumbered
by the kids 3-to-1,

so I've had to help out,
so now it's even."

So you're saying that
you are worth two of me.

No one's
going to do the math.

I'm just saying it's nice.

It's not nice.

It's you having to help
poor, pathetic Debra!

And isn'tthat nice?

It's not true.

You are not
sending this out.

Oh?

I'm not?

Not like this, no way.

Well, I'm sorry,
but this is my letter,

and this is America.

Fine.

You know what?
Fine.

Goodbye, Marie.

But, Debra,
what about your--

Bye.

I know, I know.
I forgot the kids.

You gonna put that
in your letter?

Debra...

Ow!
Ooh!

Hey, eight maids a-milkin'!

You gonna do this
every night until Christmas?

Can't we just cut to
"partridge in a pear tree"

and be done with it?

Wow.
When we go to Macy's,

you can punch Santa
and kick an elf.

Sorry.
I'm sorry.

It's just that your mother
is sending out

this stupid
family Christmas letter,

and I look terrible
in it.

She makes it sound
as if she has to raise my kids

and clean my house

while I sit around
and drool into a cup.

Just let her have
her delusions.

What else does she have--

chasing Dad around the house
with a can of Lysol?

Yeah, but she's mailing
those delusions

to everybody.

People are gonna think
it's true!

It'll be, "Thank God
Marie lives close enough

to help that idiot woman
and her dirty family!"

Hello.

I saw you pull in,
Raymond,

And I thought
you'd like some biscotti.

Oh, thanks.

Biscotti?

No, thank you.

Actually, I made them
for you, Debra.

Oh, that's nice.

It's nice.

I'm sorry, Debra!

- Oh, that's so nice!
- Okay, okay!

I'm sorry that letter
upset you so.

It's okay, you don't
have to apologize.

Have a biscotti.

Thank you.
I would love one.

I'm so glad we could
put this behind us.

Me too-- it's beautiful,
what's happening here.

I've got to get
those letters

to the post office
before they close.

Wait a minute.
Wait a minute!

You're still
sending that letter?

Of course, dear.
I have to.

You have to?

Marie, when I speak,
what is it you hear?

Is it, like,
backwards-talk

or dolphin squeaks?

You don't understand.

This is the reason
I have to send my letter.

It's from my cousin Theresa.
It came yesterday.

Here, read.

"Merry Christmas
and season's greetings

to old friends
and new friends,

dear friends
and true friends."

Enough, enough.
I can't anymore.

I thought
you like Theresa.

I love her,
but read this here.

"Our choir sang
at the White House.

My roses were featured
in 'Good Housekeeping'."

Look at all of those
exclamation points.

You'd think she pulled
the Pope out of quicksand

or something!

So you don't like it
that Theresa's doing well?

Oh, it's not that.
You know me.

I don't bother
about petty jealousy.

Yeah.

That is not your style.

That's right-- I just want
people to read about me

and think, "Marie
is doing well, too."

I understand,

but can't you write a letter
that makes you look good

without making me
look so...

Doofusy?

Yeah, doofusy.

I guess I'm just
trying to make myself

sound as important
as Theresa.

But what am l?

I've got my kids,
I've got my grandkids,

him over there.

It's okay.

I'll just let the world

read about me
in Theresa's letter.

What did she write
about you?

Not much.
How much is there, really?

Marie.

Third page,
second paragraph.

"We saw Marie and her family
at Kate Kelly's wedding.

They seemed to be doing well
in their cozy situation,

Iiving a stone's throw
from each other--

not that they'd ever
throw stones, ha ha."

Oh!
She's a bitch!

Listen, I would
never say that,

but it's nice to hear.

Well, wait.
What's so bad?

"Not that they'd ever
throw stones, ha ha"?

She's saying
we don't get along.

Where does somebody
get off writing that?

You know what, Marie?

You and l
are gonna write

our own Christmas letter
together.

Oh, no.

What do you mean?

We can write a better letter
than Saint Theresa.

We'll make us both
look good.

Maybe you can even come up
with a little dirt on her.

She does have eczema.

Great!

What are we gonna
write about me?

What about all your trips
to the botanical gardens?

- Get up!
- Come on!

What about the gardens?

You know more
than most of the guides.

"Marie is the best guide
at the botanical gardens."

We'll put that
right in there.

- We would?
- Let's start right now.

The sooner we write it,

the sooner we can wipe
that smug grin

off her dry, itchy face.

Hey, uh, excuse me.

Let's not forget
it's Christmas, you know,

a time for not being so...

And to all a good night.

This all looks great.
There's just one thing--

Shouldn't we use
the word "selfless"

to describe your work
as a piano teacher?

Oh, hi, Robbie.

Hello.

Hey, Robert.
What's going on?

"Robert's meteoric rise
through the NYPD

has really
turned some heads,

both here at home
and at the precinct."

What is this?

I heard you were writing
a family Christmas letter,

so I did my bio.

I would like it
inserted verbatim.

You wrote your own thing?

Indeed I did.

But we've
already finished.

Oh, really?

Is it anything like
your last Christmas letter?

I haven't written
a Christmas letter

in 10 years.

Look familiar?

You kept that
10 years?

Oh, yes.

I wasn't exactly pleased
with the way I was portrayed,

and I made
a solemn pledge

to never let that
happen again.

Dude, you are so weird.

Am I, Raymond?

Am I?

There were six lines
in your section.

I got three.
Half, okay?

And afteritcameout,

everybody gave me
a pitiful, pathetic look.

You always
get that look.

It was more
pronounced, man!

Well, we can't
change anything now.

But don't worry--

there's a lovely part
about you.

Oh, yeah?
Let me see that.

Uh-huh, uh-huh,
okay, mm-hmm.

Raymond gets 1, 2,
3, 4, 5, 6...

seven lines.

And I get1, 2, 3...

three! Less than half!
I'm losing ground!

All right, let's see
what you wrote.

"Robert is
an in-demand bachelor,

happily
playing the field."

That's right.

"Robert loves to dance,

and has been known
to boogie the night away."

Let me get this straight--
you've broadened

the definition
of the term "boogie"

to include
staying home by yourself

eating Wheat Thins?

I am a dancer!

What's the-- what are you getting
so worked up for?

It's a Christmas letter.
It's no big deal.

Oh, yeah?
Not for you.

You've got
the whole Raymond fan club

doing your writing.
Let's take a gander

at this year's model,
shall we?

"What can you say
about Raymond?

Whether he's
playing with the children

or playing golf,
the guy loves life."

Oh, happy days!

"He is still
writing his column

for New York Newsday."

Whoa, whoa.
Wait a minute.

What do you mean,
"still writing my column"?

Like I should be doing
something better by now?

No, that's not
what we meant.

It's not "still writing,"
it's "still writing!"

But that's not
how it's gonna read!

People are gonna get
the wrong impression here.

Ooh!

This is going out
to everybody we know?

- Of course.
- Not like this, it isn't.

Come on,
you're overreacting.

I am not overreacting!

Hee hee!

I could be managing editor
if I wanted.

I could work
for the New York Times if I wanted.

We know that, Raymond.

By the way, why didn't you
go for managing editor?

Oh, see! There it is!
The truth comes out!

That's what you mean
by "still"!

We're changing
this letter!

No, that's not
what we meant.

I'm gonna write
what I want in it.

"Merry Christmas, Robert."

No, no.
Let me do it!

Hey! Hey,
hold it, hold it!

I'm hungry.

You'll have to wait.

Debra and I have
to finish our letter.

Look what they write
about you in here, Dad.

What do you mean?
What's it say?

All they do is list
your favorite cable channels,

and then they say,

"His love affair
with bacon continues."

Is the Surgery Channel
on there, Marie?

First on the list.

I'm good.

Well, I'm not, okay?

You may not think
my job is so hot,

but 600,000
discriminating readers do.

So you've broadened
the definition

of the word
"discriminating"

to include people
who do their reading

with their elbow
on a roll of toilet paper?

Hey, at least I don't
spend my whole life

competing
with my little brother!

Oh, yeah?

Let me tell you something.

I don't have
to compete with you.

Oh, you don't compete?

That's all you do!

Look at this!
You saved this for 10 years!

10 years!

Oh my God.

I saved that letter
for 10 years.

Oh, Robert,
that's not so bad.

In a Ziploc bag!

Everything I do--
my job, my marriage,

trying to get
Mom and Dad's attention...

Leave me out of this.

Anytime something good
happens to me,

the first thought I get is,
"What about that, Raymond?"

And ifit's something bad,

I actually say a prayer
that Ray...

doesn't do so good
that day.

You say a prayer?

"Come on, God.

Get him!"

I remember this letter.

I had all the stuff

I was going to do
when I retire on this.

Was "being nicer
to your wife" on there?

Might as well have been.
It's all ridiculous crap.

"Fix up a '57 Chevy

and drive it
across the country."

Why would l
want to do that?

That's where California is.

You all know
how I feel about California...

- Yes.
- Yeah, yeah.

A state full of nut jobs,
hippies, and artsy-fartsies.

Drive across country?
I'd rather drive off a cliff!

I'll warm up the car.

All right,
here's what it should say.

"Ray entertains
and informs his readers

with stories that use sports

to illuminate
the human condition."

You heard me.
"Human condition"!

Write whatever you want,
Ray.

If you're happy
where you are,

then so am l.

All I'm saying is,
if you went for that promotion,

you would get it.

Well, what if the job
I have right now--

what if that's it?

Yeah, that's fine, great.
But I just think that--

No buts, all right?
Don't but!

I already tried
for the stupid editor thing!

Twice!

I didn't get it, twice.

There, you happy?

Little better.

Sorry.

Why didn't you say
something before?

It's not exactly something
you come home bragging about.

Seriously, man,

you can't keep
all that stuff bottled up.

You have to share it
with us...

when you fail.

- Oh, sweetie.
- Oh, honey!

Honey...

why don't you ever talk
to me about your problems?

I'm a good listener.

I've wasted
the last 10 years of my life.

Not now, Frank!

I didn't do
any of the stuff on here!

Now what the hell am l?

Just a list
of cable channels

and a big, stinking
pile of bacon

waiting to die!

Big deal!
At least you weren't

competing with someone
your entire life.

You were your own man!

"Were your own man"?

Past tense?

You can't wait, can you?

Hey, don't worry, Dad.
You're still alive,

Just like I'm
"still" a writer.

I don't want to hear
this kind of talk!

We should all
be counting our blessings!

What blessings?
Why did you write a Christmas letter?

Look what you did!

It's not too late

to do all the things
on that list.

"See Frank Sinatra
in concert"?

All right, all right.
Enough.

Here, make a new list
and start on that.

You can do it.
You're not dead yet!

And, Robert, comeon!

You're smart,
successful, handsome,

no matter what Ray
does or doesn't do.

You're not a loser.
You're a lieutenant

in the New York City
Police Department!

- What about me?
- You're fine. You're married to me.

All of you!

Come on!

Why'd you even have
to write that letter?

It's the letter
that makes us sound bad.

- Get rid of the letter.
- Yeah, yeah.

No! We worked
all afternoon on this!

It's our
Christmas letter.

I want out of it.

I forbid you to use
my name or likeness.

Oh, Frank, no!

Me too, me too!

No, Ray, come on!

I'm not gonna be
the only loser in there.

I'm out, too.

This is Christmas.

We're supposed to share
our joyous news of family.

- It's nobody's damn business!
- Damn straight!

Let's watch the game!

- Guys.
- The game!

Look at this.

We can't send it out
like this.

What will people think?

It's just me and you now.

Here's your part, dear.

I've got to get this
to the post office.

Thanks for your help,
dear.

Isn't this nice?

Christmas morning,
and we're all together.

Yeah, this is nice.

This is what
it's all about.

- Read another one, Dad.
- Okay.

This one is from Linda
and Dennis McCarthy.

- Oh, boy!
- They're the worst!

"Dear family and friends..."

We're neither.
Keep going.

"ls it Christmas already?

With our trip
to Colonial Williamsburg,

remodeling the living room,

and Denny's successful run
for city council,

the months
have just flown by."

City council of what city?

Jackassville?

Is there a picture with that?
Let me see the picture.

- There you go.
- They always send pictures.

Yeah, they always
send them.

There you go.
There it is.

Looks like
that living room

isn't the only thing
she's remodeled.

Yeah, looks like
she's in a wind tunnel.

Yeah!

"The big news around here

is the new addition
to our family.

His name is Tic-Tac,

and he's 22 lbs.
of fuzzy fun."

That is one ugly kid.

That's the dog.

The kid's outside peeing
on the fire hydrant!

Oh, I love Christmas!