Hot in Cleveland (2010–2015): Season 5, Episode 15 - Playmates - full transcript

Hot in Cleveland is recorded in front
of a live studio audience.

You've got to see the text
message Mitch just sent me.

And tell me there's not a
yearning sexual undertone.

That thai food we had for lunch
gave me an upset stomach.

He's thinking about my body.

Oh I know I'm reaching, but it's the
warmest text he ever sent me.

We're friends, but I wanna
be more than friends.

I want to be naked friends.

What do I do?

I say we have some coffee
and talk about it.

Joy, your nonfat latte,



nonfat Macchiato for Victoria, and...

Ha, once again "Melody's"
black coffee has full fat cream.

They never get my order right!

Or your name. Why don't you complain?

Oh, you know I can't complain to anyone.

Do we? You're complaining to us right now.

But I know what will make both
of your problems

seem silly and insignificant.

My problems.

I am suddenly too in-demand as an actress.

I don't know which
of these scripts to choose.

I mean, the next project you pick

after an Oscar nomination is crucial.

Shut...Up.



Well, you certainly
are getting more comfortable

with that complaining thing.

No, no. Look at your coffee sleeves.

What?

"The Devil's Due, an original
play by Elka Ostrovsky"?

Could this be our Elka Ostrovsky?

Please don't tell me there's more than one.

Are we so self-involved
that we haven't noticed

that someone living in our house
has written, directed,

and produced a play?

You know I don't like
questions that begin with

"are we so self-involved."

The answer is always yes.

Oh, here we go.

Listen to this.

The Cleveland Plain Dealer
calls Elka's play

"hilarious and insightful."

There's a matinee
performance in 20 minutes.

It's Elka.

"When I was a young girl in Poland,

"just before World War II,

"I called out to the night sky
that I would give up anything

"if my family and I could escape.

"A shadowy figure came
and offered me a chance,

"but there was a price attached.

"I thought he had forgotten...

But the devil always gets his due."

That's our living room.
Is this play about us?

- Welcome.
- Hi. I'm Melanie.

Oh, my God, I love this place!
I'm moving to Cleveland.

It's all so exciting,
because we're still hot here...

so hot.

We're young and beautiful again,
and we can pass for 25.

Why are they laughing?

Am I talking too much?
Some people say I talk too much.

Do you think I talk too much?
I don't think I talk too much.

Do I talk like that?
I don't think I talk like that.

And if I am talking too much,

it's because I really, really,
really need people to like me.

You like me, right? Please like me.

I have a major announcement to make.

My career is in the toilet,

so I'm considering moving to Cleveland,

though I can hardly imagine
living in Wisconsin.

Again, why are they laughing?

- Cleveland is in Ohio.
- Are you sure?

- I wonder what's keeping joy.
- Oh, here she comes.

All right, Joy, brace yourself.

Expect the worst.

Hello, hello.

Didn't brace myself enough.

Sorry I'm late, duckies,
but I didn't have a fiver,

so I had to have sex with me cabbie.

Oh, would you fancy having sex with me?

You won't leave me, will you?
Most blokes do.

No one's going to leave you,
because we're so hot here.

Some guy called me "miss,"
and he wasn't elderly,

gay, or using it ironically.

I'm an ingenue again.

Some chap called me
"cutie pie," he did. He did!

But then he noticed me big hands
and said, "sorry, mister."

I had sex with him anyways.

Can we please change the subject to me,

the famous actress?

Me, me, me!

- Are you famous?
- Yes, very.

I'm a soap opera actress.

Oh, do you know Susan Lucci?

- Lucci!
- Lucci!

Ladies, this place comes with a caretaker.

Elka, could you come in here for a moment?

Why are you renting to prostitutes?

Elka, you made us look like fools!

You write what you know.

I'm being played by a man!

He was the only actor
with a flat-enough chest

and big-enough hands.

This play is slander!

The critics disagree.

"Act two is a roller-coaster ride.

Three desperate women hurtling
towards middle-aged insanity."

You might not want to stay for that.

- Oh, we're leaving.
- Good.

I've got to go see my actors.

They want to discuss their characters.

And what's wrong with that?

If God wanted actors to think,
he would have given them brains.

- You realize I'm an actor.
- I do.

What's our recourse here?
This is so humiliating.

She got us all wrong!

Elka exaggerated all of us,
but let's be honest.

She did the worst hatchet job on me.

She made me sound like a babbling wimp.

She called me egotistical and conceited.

Me, me, me!

I don't know what either
of you are complaining about.

I'm the one being played by a man!

All right, now, look,

arguing amongst ourselves
isn't going to fix anything.

Now, if can change the writing,

we'll just have to meet with the actors

- and change the acting.
- Yes.

My character should be less wimpy.

And mine less self-centered.

But how exactly will I fix mine?

I'm being played by a man...

Whose shorts are so short,
his junk is showing.

Well, they are your shorts, Joy.

I know.

I just thought by knowing me better,

your portrayal of me, which is,
of course, great already,

could be even greater.

- So do you have any questions?
- I do.

Do you think you could talk Elka
into giving me a better part?

What? But you're playing Melanie.

Everybody likes Melanie.

She's the glue that keeps
everything together.

Who wants to play glue?
It's white and bland and drippy.

And perky.

Look, don't take this personally.

This play is obviously a huge
exaggeration of who you are.

Thank you.

I mean, no one could be
that much of a pathetic wuss.

You got that right.
The real Melanie Moretti...

she stands up for herself all the time.

Here's your latte.

And, Melody, here's your Chai mint-accino.

That's not what you ordered.

Why didn't you complain and send it back?

Oh, my God.

You are that big of a pathetic wuss.

No, I'm an optimist.

I, uh... I may end up liking this drink

even more than what I originally ordered.

And that's how I look at life.
I see the glass as half full.

I see it as all the way full
of crap you don't want.

How do you like it?

So good.

Oh, Elizabeth, thank you for coming.

- Victoria.
- Yes.

My name is Victoria. Victoria Chase.

And until this play comes to an end,

this Elizabeth person you speak
of will cease to exist.

Well, I can't help
but respect your process.

- Thank you.
- No, thank you.

- Thank you.
- No, thank you.

Thank you.

And scene.

Look, the way the others are portrayed,

it... it doesn't matter, they're non-pros.

But for me, how I'm portrayed
could influence

the way I'm seen by Oscar voters.

Yes.

Everything I do right now
must be calculated

to get my next accolade.

Wow.

You really do know me.

Uh, listen, Victoria,

there is something you could help me with.

I have this pile of scripts

that I have to choose
my next project from...

and I must choose the exact
right one to propel my career

to the next level.

I need to use bribery,
blackmail, anything it takes

to get the role everybody else wants.

I... I'm not sure I would do all that.

Yes, I would.

No, but... but don't we want a part

that we could really be good in?

I'm so proud of the work that
I did in Cleveland Rhapsody,

and I'd just really like
to continue to do good work.

"Good work"? That's not important.

It's the awards that matter.

I'd sacrifice anything...

my relationships, my friends,
my two children.

You don't even know
how many children we have!

And I'm pretty sure it's three.

And I don't like the way you're acting.

You're making me seem
selfish and... and unlikable.

Isn't that what we're going for?

No.

Look, I want you to go.

All right, I'm leaving, but
not without making a scene

and slamming the door.

I never should have moved to Kentucky!

Cleveland is in Ohio, you idiot.

Kentucky is in Indiana.

- Hello.
- Hello.

I'm Joy, Joy Scroggs.

I'm Jay, Jay Grepps.

I... I just want you to know
how much I love playing Joy.

- Well, I appreciate that, but...
- I completely understand you.

In many ways, we're a lot alike.

I mean, you can't keep a man,
and I can't keep a woman.

Yet, we have this fairy-tale view

that true love is out there.

We may be bitter and cynical about it.

I have been known to be bitter.

But there's a sadness behind it.

For me, I think it stems from
being abandoned by my mother.

I was abandoned by my father.

It's made me mistrustful,
sometimes even vindictive.

Me too.

How many restraining orders
have you had against you?

Let's answer at the same time.

Seven.

Actually, nine.

Wow.

Wow.

- Are you ripping up scripts?
- Not quite.

I met with the actress who's playing me,

with the intention of changing her,

but maybe I'm the one who needs to change.

So I've taken off

all the cover pages,
and I'm going to choose

my next script based
on the material inside,

not what famous name might be on the cover

or what awards it might bring me.

Sorry.

My throat just closed up
a little when I said that.

That's a great idea, Victoria.
Good for you.

And they got my order wrong again.

Okay, you know what? That's it.

If you can change, so can I.

I am going to straighten
this out once and for all,

even if they don't like me for it.

Take that, judgey actress playing me!

Don't tell her I said that.

Well...

If it isn't tweedle dum and tweedle dumber.

Not bad, but it sounded a little written.

Oh, I felt that. Now, what about the walk?

Put your hips into it.

I'm just trying to sharpen
my performance fordevil's due.

Elka has written such a brilliant play.

But she might just have
to rewrite her play.

Melanie and I have changed.
I am no longer self-centered

- and I am no longer wimpy.
- And I am no longer listening.

Now you're getting it.

Hi, melody. Your usual?

Uh, actually, my name is Melanie.

And you have not gotten my "usual" right

for the last six weeks.

I just want a medium black coffee, no milk.

That's my usual.

Are you serious?

Idiot!

- Is there a problem?
- I'll say there is.

I've been calling Melanie the wrong name

and giving her the wrong coffee
for six weeks.

What? You got to be kidding me.

Oh, it's not that big a deal.

Oh, it's a big deal, all right.

We're trying to be a first-class
coffee destination,

and you can't get there
with third-class service.

You're fired, Ranberg. Hit the bricks.

No. No, no, please don't do that.

Daddy, what's happening?

I got that woman's coffee order wrong.

I'll get you a bike next year.

- Please don't do this.
- I have to, Melanie.

I mean, are we so far gone

as a society that this one
simple act of service

is beyond our ability?

Not on my watch,
not at Stormi's new coffee bar,

and no matter how stressful it can...

You know what? My coffee's fine.

Jay, before we do this,

you should probably know
there is someone else.

Really?

I was about to say the very same thing.

- You were?
- Yes.

- But you go first.
- Well...

It's unrequited, and it's
probably never going to happen.

Me too. It's somebody who likely has

no interest in me at all.

And he's a bad choice,
because I work with him.

She's my therapist!

I've done that as well.

Oh, God, what were we thinking?

I know. What were we thinking?

I mean, if we had the chance,
we'd only date these people

for as long as we could hide
our true natures.

But eventually it would
come out, and they'd leave us.

But we don't have to hide
anything from each other.

No. That's the beauty of us, Joy.

We hate ourselves just the way we are.

And we'd never have to change or... or grow.

And we'd never question whether
we settled for less than love,

because we'd know we did.

Oh, we'll be suspicious
and vindictive and needy

and unfulfilled until the day we die.

Our wedding vows are practically written.

I don't want to be
with myself. I'm a nightmare.

I don't want to spend
another minute with me.

It's finally happened.

My thoughts are coming out of your mouth.

The problem is he's totally into me.

How do I get rid of him?

Well, that's that, then.

Yes, that appears to be that.

The thing is, I don't want to settle.

I don't want to give up.
I want to be with Mitch.

So I've decided to fight my fears

and make the first move.

"Can we meet for drinks?

I want to talk to you about something."

If he rejects me, he rejects me.

And even if he does,
at least you've learned

you'd rather be alone than with yourself.

- He says, "sure."
- That's great!

Oh, I want to analyze that "sure" so much,

but I'm not going to.

That said, he responded very
quickly and in the affirmative.

Let's go to the bar and celebrate.

Yes, but not Stormi's.

I... I have to avoid that place for a while.

Why?

Because I learned a lesson too.

When I complain, people
almost die... many people.

But you know what?

I am the way that I am, and I like it.

And if you don't like it,
I probably won't say anything

- 'cause I want you to like me.
- Well, I like you.

- Me too.
- Thank you. And you know what?

I think the world needs
more people like me.

People that act nice,
even when they shouldn't,

just so that niceness is in the air.

And I'm doing that thing
where I talk too much, aren't I?

- Yeah.
- Well, I have an announcement.

After reading all of these scripts

and not knowing who wrote them

or what studio is behind them,

I've chosen my favorite.

It's a character study
about a woman my age,

and it really moved me.

So please pull the cover page
for script number three

and tell me who wrote it.

It's by J.J.

Abrams?

No, just J.J.

It's titled The Painted Wall,

aka Cleveland state junior year
film studies project.

So the follow-up

to my Oscar-nominated
performance is a student film?

You still going to do it?

Well, of course I am.

That script spoke to me.

I wouldn't back out now even
if one of you tried to make me.

So go ahead. Try.

You can try a little harder than that,

because I am not going to give up.

Okay, fine.

For the first time in my life,
I am going to do something

because it moved me.

What's that, Melanie? I shouldn't do it?

- Honey, I didn't say anything.
- Now you don't talk.

But you know what?

There's no telling
where good art comes from.

I mean, even Elka's play inspired us

to take a hard look at ourselves.

That's the truth.

You realize we walked out
before the play was over.

Before you three moved to Cleveland,

I was a normal widow, living a quiet life,

not making any trouble for anyone.

And since you got here,

I've had to pretend
to be your old Irish nanny,

your gay girlfriend on a cruise.

I've had to spend jail time
and share a cell with you

and your big man hands.

Oh, you just turned my life upside down.

So what are you saying, Elka?

I'm saying...

Thank you.

"I realized these women
hadn't ruined my life.

"They'd broadened it and given it laughter.

"Sometimes it's more fun to join the devil

than to beat him."

So the secret wasn't
that you're doing a play.

It's that you like us.

I keep telling you, it's a work of fiction.

We made your life better.

And you love us for it, you big softy.

I'm so glad you like us.

- Oh.
- You think we're great.

And people wonder why writers drink.