Everybody Loves Raymond (1996–2005): Season 8, Episode 10 - Jazz Records - full transcript

Debra, what the hell
happened to my dictionary?

Oh, yeah, Ray. I'm sorry.
I was going to tell you.

I caught the boys sliding
down the stairs on it.

Oh, come on. It's ruined.
Look at this.

The leather binding's
all coming off, the...

pages are missin',
the cover's comin' off it.

Calm down, Ray.
It's just a dictionary.

It's not "just a dictionary,"
Robert, all right?

I won this in the
seventh-grade spelling bee.

Ah. Another one
of Raymond's triumphs.

Seventh-grade spelling.



Gosh, what word put you
over the top, Raymond?

"Boat"?

For your information,
I had to spell "vacuum."

Okay? Two "U's."

Or two "C's."

I don't know 'cause
there's no "V" in here.

Heh-heh-heh-heh.

What goes around
comes around, huh, Ray?

What do you mean?

Just like when you ruined
my jazz records.

Oh, all right.

Dad, we all know the story,
okay, so not again.

Why not?
It's a short story.

Once upon a time,
I had great jazz records.



You were born,
now I don't.

All right!

You been on me for this
for over 30 years.

- I believe it was the winter of '69.
- Will you stop it?

I had just come home
from a hard day's work--

If you're gonna do this,
then just go home.

Tell your story
somewhere else.

Yeah, let's get Ma to make us
some hot chocolate.

Ray, if you need me,
I'll be across the street

not listening
to my favorite jazz records.

You never touched
my stuff, Robert.

It's too bad Ray
wasn't more like you.

Putz.

P-U-T-Z.

The putz walked
into the door.

Putz.

Hey.

Hey.
I'm glad you're here.

Go get me some chips.

Actually, I got something
better for you.

Chips and dip?

Look, I got you
a gift, okay?

I didn't want to wait
till Christmas to give it to you,

so here.

What the hell are these?

Your jazz records.

These aren't my records.

They're better
than records.

They're CDs
of your old records.

Where's your CD player?

I don't have
a CD player.

No, you do.

A couple of years ago

Debra and I got you
a portable one.

Oh, yeah.

It's probably
in the basement.

Okay. Good. Wait here.
I'm gonna get it.

Your mother's down there
doing laundry.

Tell her break time is over.
I'm starving!

Hey, Mom,
what are you doin'?

Your father says the dryer
makes his pants too tight.

I think that's
the refrigerator.

Listen, you got
a CD player?

Yes, we do.
Would you like it?

Because we need
the space.

No, Ma.
We gave it to you.

And we love it.

Okay, all right,
where is it?

It's over there.

Oh my God,
look at all this stuff!

Would you like
a popcorn popper?

You didn't give us that,
did you?

Here it is-- the CD player
Debra and I got you.

And look at this--
it's a clock radio.

A-- a DVD player.

A microwave oven.

Another microwave oven.

Look at this.

You didn't even finish
taking the wrapping off.

We don't need
an electrical knife.

Cutting meat is
your father's only exercise.

Hey, Marie, let's go.

I need a damn sandwich
before I get cranky.

Dad, look at
all this stuff.

It's just sittin' here.

What, Mount Crapmore?

This stuff--
it's not crap, Dad.

Mom, you should put
this microwave in the kitchen.

It's great.
Debra has the same model.

Well, I'm sold.

Dad, you want
a pot roast?

You can have it
in 15 minutes with this.

I can get it
in 10 with this.

Okay, how about this--
automatic garage-door opener?

You don't gotta break
your back liftin' the door.

Okay, all right.

Mom can cook,
and she can lift a door,

but... she cannot

reproduce the finest music
of the 20th century

with crystal-clear
digital quality.

Actually,
I have been told

that I have
a marvelous singing voice.

I know you do, Ma,

but wait until
you hear this.

This'll only
take a second.

Look at all those wires.

You know what loves wires?

Dust.

Don't touch my tools.

I don't need tools, Dad.

Look how complicated it looks.

Ma, it's simple.
You just plug it in.

Yeah, I can see
the electric company

rubbin' their mitts
together right now.

Dad, it only uses
a little power,

and it's easy to use.

You just push
that button,

you open up the tray,

you grab a CD,
and you pop it in.

Voila!

Just gotta-- you take
the wrapping off...

put the thing in.

All right.

A little, uh...

Raymond, maybe
you could use this.

I don't need that, Ma.

Maybe you could use
a blowtorch.

Look, see, listen--
when you get the plastic off,

all you do
is insert the disc,

you close the tray,
put the selector on CD,

and press "play."

We're not astronauts,
Raymond.

Fine. I'll write it down
for you, Ma.

Can I go up now?

No no no no no.
No no no.

Here we go.

Okay, just gotta get
this sticky thing off.

Dad, you're gonna
love this, Dad.

You're gonna be blown away
when you hear this.

This is where I used
to listen to 'em.

I'd come home
from a hard day's work,

your mother
would mix me a drink,

I'd come down here,
put on the hi-fi,

and let Duke and Dizzy
take me away...

from your mother.

I almost got it, Dad.

Then one day,
I came down,

and where my records
used to be,

you had set up your
stupid race-car track thing.

My records
were over there,

pushed up
against the furnace.

They didn't
stand a chance.

Open!

Come on, Marie.
I'm starving.

No, wait, Dad.
I'm getting it now.

When you're finished,
shut off the lights, Raymond.

I'm getting it.

It's almost open!
Will you stop it? Stop!

You're gonna hear it
in a few seconds.

Will you stop it?

All right, forget it!

Forget it! Forget...

Forget it!

I want nothin' to do
with either of ya!

I'll tell you what:

My mother
and my father--

we're through with 'em!

You read my letter
to Santa.

He's--
he's unbelievable!

You know, I try to do
something nice.

I-- I try to
make things right.

Uh... Ray?

What happened
over there?

This is my mother's.

You wanna know
what happened?

Nothing happened.

He wouldn't listen
to the CDs,

because they're not records.

Ewww!

All right.
Calm down. Listen--

You gotta
get rid of that.

Okay, I'll wrap it.

I need a stocking stuffer
for your mother anyway.

At least I know
she'll like it.

I hope none of these
are for him.

He's just gonna put 'em
in the basement

or trade 'em in for a buggy whip
and wooden teeth.

Ray, you know
your father.

He hates anything new.

Yes, but if he would
just listen to the CDs

and hear how great they sound,
I know he would love them!

- No, Ray, he wouldn't.
- Yes, he would.

- Ray, come here.
- I can't stand him!

- Sit down.
- Why can't he just--

Sit down!

I'm all clenchy.

Let's remember...

this doesn't have
to be your problem.

Anytime your father
brings up those jazz records,

don't let yourself
get sucked in.

That's what he wants.

You don't wanna be
as bad as him, do you?

Don't respond.

You're better than him.

- Damn straight.
- Yeah.

Let him be mad.

Let him hold on to it.

It's not your problem.

This is his problem.

You can move on.

- You know what I'm gonna do?
- What?

I'm gonna sneak in
and set up the CD player.

You weren't even listening.

When they go out tonight,
I'm goin' in!

That old man--

he's gonna hear
how great CDs are,

that they're better
than records,

and that will shut him up
once and for all.

Thanks for your help.

Ray?

Oh. Hey.

- What are you doing?
- I'm waiting for my parents.

When they come home,
I'm gonna play the CD.

They're out doin' their
last-minute-Christmas-Eve-

save-a-dollar-
on-tinsel shopping.

How long have you
been back there?

About an hour.

Honey, come on.
Come home.

No no no.

I got the CD all set up.
I got the remote.

When they come in,
I'm gonna play the music.

I'm not even gonna
say anything to them.

Frank, why didn't you leave
a light on out here?

- I can't even see my keys.
- Just open the damn door.

Look out!

Holy crap!

Too loud.
I'm sorry.

Turn it down!

I'm trying.

You're blockin'
the laser beam thing.

See, with a CD, you can
turn it loud, no distortion.

Oh, my heart.

Oh, my eggs.

What are you tryin'
to do to us?

Oh, that was awful,
Raymond.

Yes, and these ornaments
were on sale.

I'm sorry.

I wanted to give you
the opportunity

to hear your jazz records

Iike you've never
heard 'em before.

Yeah, that's like
I've never heard 'em before.

I didn't realize
it was gonna be

the soundtrack
to my funeral.

Ho ho ho!

Watch out, watch out,
watch out!

What am I sittin' in?

Eggs... and eggnog.

And what is very sharp?

That might be the menorah.

Menorah?

It was a big sale.

What happened here?

It was Raymond's
horrible machine.

It's not a horrible
machine, Mom.

It's a CD player.

Please, let me just
play you one song.

Oh, God, no!
He's gonna turn it on again!

I don't wanna
hear any CDs.

It's bad enough
you ruined my records,

you ruined my floor,
my ornaments,

and my cook!

Look, please,
just listen to it.

- No!
- But listen!

- No!
- Guys, guys.

I think...

I think...

I think I might
be able to help.

I was gonna give this
to you tomorrow, Dad,

but you might want
to see it now.

Here you go, Pop.

From me to you.

Merry Christmas.

These are my records.

Not all of them.

But Robert and I went
to some garage sales

and used record stores
this weekend.

And I think we came across
some of your favorites.

Ben Webster meets
Oscar Peterson.

I haven't heard
this album in 30 years.

Ahh! Genuine American vinyl.

Look. Look, Dad.

Got the same
exact thing.

See, Ben meets
Oscar here, too.

It's the same thing.
Listen to this.

Ray, you gotta
let it go.

Yeah. What are you
doin', man?

Oh oh, yeah yeah.

You would like
nothing better

than to have me
suffer for 30 years,

and then you just
swoop in and be the hero.

Yeah, well, nice try,
egg-ass.

All right?

I was the one who ruined
the jazz records.

I'll be the one
to replace them.

Wait wait, Raymond. Wait.

All right. Go ahead.

Huh? Listen
to that sound.

It's like Oscar Peterson
is sittin'

right here at the piano.

Play it, Oscar.

Play it,
you swingin' jazz cat.

What are you doin'?

I want to hear
my jazz records.

You can't give it
to me, can ya?

Those CDs, they sound great,
and you know it,

but you can't give it up.

You just gotta
keep torturin' me.

I loved those damn albums.

I was hoping someday
you might love them too

instead of your
hippie jungle crap.

Those Beatles were awful,
Raymond.

I know, Dad.
I know you loved 'em.

That's all I ever heard.

"Shut up, kids!
I'm listenin' to my records!"

Then why the hell
did you ruin 'em?

I don't remember.
I was 10!

Why do you keep
taking this out on me?

- 'Cause you did it!
- I didn't do it on purpose!

- I'm not so sure!
- Listen to me...

Wait a minute!
Wait a minute!

I wanna say something.

That Christmas day
in 1969... um...

What is it, Robert?

I'm gonna tell you
what it is right now.

All right.
That Christmas...

I wanted the Hot Wheels
race-track set so bad.

I would see
those commercials,

and I would think,
"This is my year, man."

I could see myself setting up
that beautiful bright orange track

with the maroon connectors.

And you know what was
under the tree waitin' for me?

Custom-order
corrective shoes.

Dr. Fishman said that they were
the best for oversized feet.

I looked over,
I saw Raymond

elbow deep
in a box of Hot Wheels.

My Hot Wheels.

You moved his records.

Excuse me. May I finish
my story, please?

Go ahead, Robert.

Thank you very much,
sweetie.

I hated you.

You got my Hot Wheels
for Christmas.

Everything I ever
dreamed about--

the track, the cars,
the loop-de-loop.

You moved his records.

Later that day,

after Raymond was tired
of playing with his new Hot Wheels

for a total of four minutes,

I pulled off
my clunky corrective shoes

and slipped downstairs.

Now it was my turn.

Raymond, of course,
had the track set up all wrong.

An oval.

Oh, what a visionary
you are.

I wanted to set it up
like the kid on the box--

that happy,
brotherless boy.

And, in doing so...

your records
may have been moved.

They may have?

I moved your records.

You moved his records!

Unbelievable!

You let me suffer
for 30 years.

Yes.

You two are
so screwed up.

I'm sorry, Raymond.

I'm sorry, Dad.

Aw, it's okay.

"It's okay"?!

Now it's okay?!

Will you give it up already?
It was 30 years ago.

Why don't you dip
your pants in cinnamon

and make us
some French toast?

Why don't you
dip your pants...

That doesn't
make any sense!

Hey hey!

Why don't you go put on
one of those records?

I'd love to hear it.

Good idea, sister.

With pleasure, Dad.

Here, Robert.
This is a nice one.

Thank you, darling.

Great. What am I supposed
to do with my CDs now?

You take them, you listen to them,
you might like them.

You should try to keep
an open mind about things.

All right. Here it is.

Now that's music.

Okay, this is to Daddy

from Michael and Geoffrey.

Oh! Thank you.

Hey! What is it?

It's a new dictionary.

Oh.

Isn't that sweet?

They felt bad about
ruining your old one.

It's electronic.

Heh-heh-heh.

"It's better."

And I love it.

But not more
than I love you.

Ahh!

Why don't you look up
"fruitcake" in there?

Fruitcake
with sissy sauce.

Oh, look, Marie.

There's one more thing
left in your stocking.

Thank you, dear.

"To Marie from Debra."

Oh! Thank you, Debra.

You like it?

To be honest, it's not
a style I'd ever wear.

Nice try, though.