Family Matters (1989–1998): Season 1, Episode 21 - Bowl Me Over - full transcript

It's the guys (don't forget Urkel) vs. the gals in grudge match at the bowling alley. The usual hijinks ensue, and a huge argument breaks out. Then a severe thunderstorm knocks out the ...

I hate my school
picture this year.

My hair looks funny, my dress is
ugly and I'm smiling like a goon.

Yeah, that's you.

Hi, Laura, my little
photogenic fox.

It's that time of year again.

The day everybody
exchanges their school pictures.

Sorry, I don't think I
can spare one, Steve.

I only have 144.

Oh, I understand.

I'll just stick around and
stare at the real thing.

Here, take two. And
don't bother me next year.



Oh, thank you, thank you,
thank you. I've got yours outside.

Is it just me or do I get
better looking every year?

It's just you.

Here you go, my sweet.

It's gonna be hard
getting that into my wallet.

Hi, Carl.

Oh, no.

There's two of them.

- Hi, honey.
- Hi, sweetie.

How was your day?

Rough.

I just spent two hours
talking a guy off a ledge...

then found out he
was a window washer.

I can't believe
you did this to me.



Why are you so upset?

It's just a stupid video game.

Stupid video game?

Now, what's the problem here?

I don't have a problem. I just got the
highest score ever at "Space Invaders."

Oh, sure, rub it in.

Well, I guess we know now who
used to have the highest score.

I don't think girls should be
allowed to play video games, period.

They should stick to
cheerleading, where they belong.

Eddie, that is the most chauvinistic
thing I've ever heard you say.

I'll straighten him out, honey.

Come on, son, we
need to have a little talk.

Step into my office, please.

What's wrong?

Well, son, I don't think you're
upset because you were beaten.

I think you're upset because
you were beaten by a girl.

Well, yeah.

Son, this is the '90s, the
age of the enlightened man.

We're no longer threatened by women
who are smarter or make more money...

or who beat us at sports.

- We're not?
- No.

Son, today's man is
compassionate and sensitive...

and only wants to live in peace
and harmony with today's female.

A real man is a man who
is able to admit defeat.

I want you to go back in
there and you tell your sister...

that you're happy for her.

All right.

Go ahead, son.

Laura.

Um... I'm sorry I was
such a sore loser.

You beat me fair and square
and you deserve to be the champ.

Thanks. And, Eddie, I
didn't beat you, I crushed you.

Edward.

You're right.

Laura, it's the '90s and
I'm an enlightened man...

and I only wanna live in
peace and harmony with you.

Congratulations on your victory.

Wow, you left here with Eddie
Winslow and returned with Alan Alda.

Bye, Ted. Bye, Lowell.

You guys have great form.

Rachel, will you forget about picking up
those two guys and pick up that spare?

I can do both, you know.

- Yes! Yes.
- Whoo!

Yes, yes, yes.

Snack time.

Did you guys want something?

Well, you know,
bowling was a great idea.

I can't think of a single reason
not to do this every week.

Hi, everybody.

I just thought of a reason.

- Steve, what are you doing here?
- I come here three or four times a week.

- Oh, sort of like a second home.
- Oh, no, Carl. That would be your place.

Dad, it's your turn.

Go get them.

- Go ahead, Carl.
- No, after you.

- No, I insist.
- No, please.

Oh, no, really, I couldn't.

Etiquette demands deference
to the bowler on the left...

unless, of course,
it's a league situation...

Just bowl.

Thank you.

Would you throw the ball!

Surely.

A little high in the pocket.
Fortunately, I got good pin action.

I'll give you some pin action.

Darn, I was robbed. That
should have been a strike.

Well, not really, Carl.

Your push off was late...

and you short-armed
that follow-through.

Of course, nine out
of 10 is very good.

Listen, Carl, this is an
easy spare to pick up.

No problem.

Can't miss.

Oops. Guess you can.

Well, not a great finish.

But we still win.

Not yet, Carl.

If Harriette throws three strikes
in a row, she beats you by one pin.

You hear that, Mom?
You can still win.

Are you kidding? Mom
could never beat Dad.

Eddie, never say never.

That's right. Never.

Get up there, honey. Show
them. My sister, she can bowl.

- Go ahead, show them.
- Time out, sister. You can...

- Whoo!
- She's good, Carl.

Two more of those
and you're history.

Yes! Yes, yes, yes.

Whoa, that's two, Carl.

Hanging by a thread.

Yes! Yes, yes, yes.

She did it, Carl. She beat you.

You took the gas.

You went belly up.

Of course, there's nothing
wrong with second place.

Harriette, I want a rematch.

Mm-hm. So does Mike Tyson.

Come on, let's go home.

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh!

We're not going
anywhere. I'm serious.

I want a rematch.
You just got lucky.

I want a rematch
and I want it now.

The winner and still
champion, Carl Otis Winslow.

I can't believe that man.

Harriette, just be glad
Carl won the rematch

or we'd still be at
the bowling alley.

I hate bowling.

It's a stupid sport.

You got that right.

Throwing an ugly 10-pound
ball at a bunch of ugly sticks...

while you're wearing ugly shoes.

It's an ugly sport.

It's a great sport.

And do you know why?

Because it's a man's sport.

They make the ball heavy so women
will know to leave it alone. Ha-ha-ha.

- Excuse me, mister.
- I think you don't know...

Hey, hey, hey.

It's late and I don't wanna
hear any more fighting.

Go upstairs and go to bed.

- He started it.
- How did I start it?

By being born first.

You got the whole family
off on the wrong foot.

Boy, five hours
at a bowling alley.

That's the most time I
ever spent in rented shoes.

I hope Carl got all that
gloating out of his system.

Ladies and gentlemen, as the
winner of the bowling rematch...

I hereby declare this an
official Carl Winslow holiday.

Looks like there's still
a couple of gloats left.

Excuse me. I'm gonna
go check on Richie.

What's wrong with her?

I thought we all
had fun tonight.

Carl, no one had
fun tonight but you.

Now, Harriette. I am surprised at you. I
thought you were a better loser than this.

You won the rematch,
okay? Case closed.

Now, come on, Harriette.

I think we need to
talk about this now...

because I don't want you to feel
bad just because I'm the better bowler.

- Okay, I don't feel bad.
- Good.

Because I'd really feel bad about being
the better bowler if it made you feel bad.

Give me a break.

Harriette, come on.
I think you'll feel a lot

better if you just came
right out and said it.

That I'm the better bowler.

That I'm a better
bowler than you.

Don't push me, Carl.

Harriette, the foundation
of a good marriage is truth.

And as husband and
wife, I think that you

and I need to just
face that truth together.

So come on, let's just
face that truth, Harriette.

Here we go now. Just say:

"My husband, Carl,
is a better bowler."

Okay, that did it. You
wanna face some truth, Carl?

How about this truth?

The only reason you won that rematch
tonight was because I let you win.

You don't really expect
me to believe that.

Yeah, and it's not the
first time I did it either.

I've been letting you win at bowling
ever since before we were married.

Well, Richie's fine.

- Hey, Rachel, you want a good laugh?
- Sure.

Your sister claims that
she let me win the rematch.

I knew it. I knew you
were holding back.

See? What did I tell you?

Oh, sure. She's your sister.

Of course she's gonna support this silly
notion that you're a better bowler than me.

Carl, I'm warning you.

I mean, it's a
simple fact of nature.

Men are better
bowlers than women.

What kind of male
chauvinist garbage is that?

Now, Rachel, I'm not saying
that men are better at everything.

But, hey, we're
talking bowling here.

And bowling is
primarily a man thing.

Okay. That did it.
We're going bowling.

Men against the women.
Tonight. Right now. One game.

- Now you're gonna be sorry.
- Come on.

- She's decided...
- Hey.

- She's dangerous. She's dangerous.
- Good night, guys.

What are you doing
with your pajamas on?

You told me to go to bed.

Well, get dressed, get your
brother. We're going bowling.

That's right. We're
gonna whoop their...

You two tell me, I don't...

Okay.

A strike, ladies.

I guess that puts the
men in the lead again.

Enjoy it while you can.

- Mm-hm.
- Go ahead, honey.

You won't be leading for long.

Eddie, you did that on purpose.

Did what?

- I'm gonna get you for this, Eddie.
- Oh, really? I'm shaking.

You better be.

Because it won't be today
and it won't be tomorrow.

But someday, when
you're least expecting it...

you're gonna wake up
with some hair missing.

It's all right, Laura.
We'll catch up to them.

Uh-oh. Steve bowls next.

Look, if he makes another
strike, we are in real trouble.

Don't worry about a
thing. I'll handle him.

Hi, Steve.

Hi, Laura.

You know, I shouldn't be
mingling with the opposition...

but I just wanted to tell you...

how handsome you look
under fluorescent lighting.

Really?

Yeah. And I just wanted
to wish you good luck.

Thank you.

My, what strong arms.

Steve?

What's the matter? Steve?

She touched me, Carl.

I can't breathe.

All the pins look like Laura.

Steve. Steve. Steve.

Get ahold of yourself, boy.

Get ahold of
yourself. Here. Here.

We need a strike, Steve.
Breathe into your bowling bag.

Breathe, bend over,
boy, that's it. Come on.

- You all right?
- Yeah, I'm okay.

Okay. Think strike,
boy. Think strike.

There goes your secret weapon.

Well, champ, this is it.

The last ball of the last frame.

It's all up to you.

Yeah, Carl. If you bowl
a strike, you'll be a hero.

But if you don't, you'll be a bum,
a loser, a goat, a choke artist...

Thank you, Steve. That's
enough encouragement.

Good luck.

Let's go, Carl, you're
holding up the game.

Yeah. We just wanna claim
our victory and get out of here.

Not so fast. I feel
a strike coming on.

Come on, Carl. One strike.

Strike, strike, strike.

Strike, strike, strike.

- Strike, strike, strike.
- Choke, choke, choke.

- Strike, strike, strike.
- Choke, choke, choke.

Hey, what happened?
- It was a strike.

I distinctly heard 10 pins fall.

- Ten? No way!
- Hey, you know...

Oh, you should only throw one.

I am telling you
it was a strike.

I'm telling you no way.

We'll get a flashlight, go
back to the bowling alley...

- and check for ourselves.
- We won. You lost. Face it.

Face it like a man. Your
wife beat the pants off you.

Oh, you face it like a woman.
- Hey.

- Hey, hey, hey.
- You don't know anything about it.

Keep it down. People
are trying to sleep.

I'm sorry, Mama. But we were
discussing who won the bowling match.

The men or the women.

- Well?
- We don't know.

The power went off
before we could find out.

The whole place went pitch-black before
Carl's ball missed the strike they needed.

Missed? That ball
was right in the pocket.

- Hey.
- Hush up. Hush up. Hush up! All of you.

It wasn't the storm that
knocked out the power.

It was the good Lord trying to
show you how silly you were being.

Who's better in
bowling, men or women?

I never heard
anything so ridiculous.

You're grown-ups
acting like children.

You ought to be
ashamed of yourselves.

Now, I want this settled now.

And do it quietly.

I've got a 6 a.m. karate class.

We are acting like children.

Hey, some of us are children.

You know what I mean.

Yeah.

Now, what happened to us?

I mean, this started out
as a fun family outing...

and ended up as
war of the Winslows.

Grandma's right.

This competition
stuff is stupid.

You're right, Eddie.

I'm going to bed.

Me too. Race you upstairs.

Boy, what a night, huh?

Broke three nails, got
a blister on my thumb...

and I probably caught pneumonia.
But other than that, I had a great time.

Good night.

You know, Harriette...

it was dark.

Maybe I didn't knock
down all the pins.

So you're saying the women won?

Well, let's just call it a tie.

I'll accept a tie.

And the next time I'm better than you
at something, I'll just keep it to myself.

Fine.

No, it's not fine.

Harriette, why should you have to do less
than your best just to protect my male ego?

- You mean that?
- Yes.

And, sweetheart, I am sorry for
acting like a male chauvinist sometimes.

That's all right, honey.

You don't do it very often.

In fact, someday soon, you're gonna be
that enlightened man you told Eddie to be.

Well, I promise
I'll keep trying.

- That's the spirit.
- Ooh. Ooh.

My shoulder. I think I pulled a
muscle throwing that last strike.

It wasn't a strike.

Harriette, if you can
get this kink out of my

shoulder, you can
call it anything you like.