Mike & Molly (2010–2016): Season 5, Episode 12 - The World According to Peggy - full transcript

Come on, Carl, step on it.

Drive on the sidewalk
if you have to.

Hey, I'm your partner...
I will get us there.

But you should have just
used the bathroom at Abe's.

I like going at my mom's house.

She's at work, and it's quiet.

Plus, I grew up
with that toilet.

We know each other's secrets.

Easy, easy!

Stay with me, buddy.
We're almost there.

Carl, I'm not gonna make it.



Hey, d-don't you
let go on me, man!

Don't you let go on me!

Mom, what are you doing home?

I live here.

What the hell are you doing?

I came to borrow
your Better Homes & Gardens.

What do you think?

So you're the one who's been
Goldilocks-ing around my house

while I've been at work.

You know, if you're gonna nap
in somebody's bed,

you need to make it
when you're done.

I tried.

You know I can't get
the corners as tight as you.

No one can.



Wait, what are you
doing home anyway?

Shouldn't you be at work?

What, are you my parole officer?

I got to keep you updated on
my whereabouts and my doings?

What? I'm just asking.

I retired, okay?

Since when?

Since I decided to stop working.

All these years
in the cafeteria,

you just woke up
one day and decided,

"I've sloppied my last joe."

Maybe I did.

What's it to you?

I don't know.

Maybe I want to say
congratulations.

There, you said it.

Now, unless you're gonna give me
a gold watch, beat it.

All right, all right, I'm going.

Leave the Homes & Gardens.

I'm sick of you stealing
my magazines.

Sorry, "Dr. Izzian Lahiri."

Yeah.

Hey, he's not gonna read it.

He can barely speak English.

I hate my home,
and I don't have a garden.

Oh.

Hey, Mama Biggs.

What you doing home?

* La, la-ba-dee-da *

* La, la-ba-dee-da *

* For the first time
in my life *

* I see love *

* I see love *

* For the first time
in my life *

* I see love *

It's funny... I never pictured
your mom as the retiring type.

I always figured when
the time was right,

someone would throw water on
her, and she'd just melt away.

I know... she loved working
at the school cafeteria.

And she could rock a hairnet.

So how does she seem?

I mean, is she excited?

Is she making plans?

Is she gonna travel?

Ooh, maybe she'll move
to Florida.

Yeah, well, if she does,

it'll give those
old geezers in Boca

something to bitch about
besides the humidity.

So are you gonna
throw her a party?

Molly, we don't know for sure
that she's moving to Florida.

No.

For... for the retirement.

I mean, you're her son.

Don't you think you should
plan something?

I'm not good
at that kind of thing.

Oh, it's easy.
You just...

invite her friends from work,
you get a sheet cake,

you sing her
"For She's a Jolly Good Fellow,"

the monster's appeased,

then the villagers are safe
until the next harvest.

You know what,
a party is a great idea.

Well, thank you.

No. Thank you.

You're gonna make my mother
very happy.

Let me know if you need me
to pick up

that cake that you order.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, what?

You're a good daughter-in-law.

What the hell just happened?

You got duped by a dope.

Surprise!

Hey.

If you're with the
health department,

you need to give
us 48 hours notice.

We know the law.

No, it's Molly Flynn.

I-I taught here for,
like, ten years.

Uh-uh, uh-uh.

Miss Flynn?

Taught fourth grade?

Teacher of the Year?

Green salad with a scoop
of tuna on the side?

Ah.
Oh, hey, honey.

How you doing?

Good, good.

Uh, anyway, the reason
I'm here is

because you are both invited
to a party.

Oh, hey.
Ooh.

Yeah, to celebrate
Peggy's retirement.

Yay.

Party.

Is this some sort of joke?

No, but it is a secret.

So don't tell
the one-eyed janitor,

'cause he's not invited.

Look, tuna scoop,

I don't know
what Peggy told you,

but she didn't retire;
she got fired.

What?
Yep.

That woman was the worst person
I've ever had to deal with.

And I used to work
the chow line at Joliet.

When she started working here,

she was warm, friendly,
just like us.

But once she got promoted
to griddle master,

the power went
straight to her head.

Oh, I remember that.

There was a couple months
where she insisted

we call her "the Griddler."

Ugh.

She was horrible.

She would peck away
at every minor flaw you had.

Do you have any idea
what it's like to live

under that kind of scrutiny?

I married into
that kind of scrutiny.

It became such a hostile
work environment,

we went to the principal.

She had to go.
Mmm.

Your mother-in-law
learned a hard lesson

about cafeteria life.

Fly too high, and the
heat lamps gonna get ya.

That's a good one.

So it-it was time for her
to tapioca out of here.

Yours was better.
Mmm.

It was better.

Mike!

In here.

Ooh, you better sit down.

Okay.

'Cause this is big.

This is juicy.

And I don't like throwing
around the word "bombshell,"

but bombshell.

Well, what is it?

Okay, here we go.

Your mom did not retire.

She was fired.

And...?

And?

Are you kidding me?

Your mom was fired.

She lied right to your face.

Eh, she does that.

That's it?

That's all you're gonna give me?

I'm sorry,
but this is nothing new.

She spins every negative thing
in her life

so it isn't her fault.

But we don't call it lying.

We call it "Mom's version."

And in her defense, how else
is she gonna live with herself?

Wait, n-n-no, we need to
confront her about this.

I mean, by "we," I mean you,

but I want to be there to watch.

I am not confronting her.

Uh, why not?

Well, I don't know.

Survival?

Self-preservation?

I'm scared of her?

Take your pick.

Well, I am not throwing
"Liar, liar,

I didn't even retire" a party.

Oh, yes, you are.

As far as everyone's concerned,
she's retired.

But it's not true.

"But, but, but."

The truth has no place here.

But we will give
my mother that party,

she will be ungrateful,
and we will move on.

How did you survive
your childhood?

What does it look like?

Eating right and exercising.

This is a very nice party.

Boy, you're easy to please.

These canap?s are
quite delightful.

Did you need 12 of 'em
to decide that?

So what are your plans now?

Why does everybody
keep asking me that?

Well, we are
at your retirement party.

But I guess we can just
sit here in silence.

I'll never retire.

Three weeks after my pop stopped
working, he dropped dead.

He was hiking the Grand Canyon
and didn't bring any water.

I guess what I'm saying is...
hydrate.

I hate the taste of water.

Of course you do.

You should hear
your mom out there.

I think she actually believes
she retired.

Molly, I'm telling you,

in her little world,
she is retired,

her podiatrist
is in love with her,

and Anderson Cooper isn't gay.

I can't imagine deluding
myself like that.

I have to live honestly.

Oh, really?

So you were born
with that hair color?

Yes.

I was. That's...

why I keep trying
to get back to it.

And, uh, y-you were the one who
came up with "talk to the hand."

Maybe not "came up with it,"
but I brought it to Chicago.

Molly, look, I'm just...

Ah-ah-ah-ah.

It's great that you retired

while you're still able
to enjoy...

I'm sorry, is there
anything you enjoy?

I've only ever really had
one passion... cooking.

In bulk.

Well, if that's the case, you
sure lucked into the right son.

What are we talking about?

About how happy
you make your mom.

Yeah, he's one in a million.

Always come to visit
when I'm not at home,

and always tests the plumbing.

Hey, now with your mom
being around,

when we go over there
for your little bathroom breaks,

we can stay for lunch, too.

No, no, I like my routine.

I eat lunch at Abe's,

and that greasy food
sends me to my mother's.

If I eat at Mom's,

who knows where I'll
be when the muse hits.

Hey, do you think
what's-his-name needs

any help down at that diner?

Maybe you could put in
a good word for me.

To work at Abe's?

Uh, n-n-no, y-you don't
want to do that.

Why not?

Because, as your tiara says,
you're retired.

Enjoy your golden years.

At home.

Away from people.

I took 18 stitches pushing
your big head out my cervix,

and you can't do
something nice for me?

What do you call this?

Boring.

These are all your friends.

Where are mine?

That's a good question, Ma.

Where are your friends?

What are you saying?
Nothing.

Let's just get through
this joyous occasion.

You ingrate.

After all I've done for you,

you can't put in
a good word for me

at that crappy diner?

Oh, believe me, Ma,
if I could find a good word,

I'd put it in.

What is that supposed to mean?

It means I don't want
to subject my friends

to the Griddler, either.

I know about the cafeteria.

You got fired.

As usual, you don't know squat.

I retired.

And if somebody tells you
different, they're liars.

No!

You're the liar!

You always have been!

You got fired because
you're bitter and toxic

and nobody wants
to be around you.

* For she's a jolly
good fellow *

* For she's a jolly... *

You and I are done.

What happened?

Mike just told off his mom.

Oh, and I missed it?

Let's not overdo it
with the coffee, Samuel.

I don't know where
I'm landing after this lunch.

Come on.

Your mom's house is
right on our beat.

Nope.

That commode is dead to me.

Ah, you should
appreciate your mother.

Mine is 4,000 miles away,

but I can still feel her love
every day,

like she's right beside me.

Supporting me, comforting me,

making me feel like I'm the most
important person in the world.

Yeah, well, the one they gave me
doesn't do that.

You know, the only thing
that kept me

in that abusive
relationship so long

was because of her cooking.

You know?
She'd-she'd treat me like crap,

and then think a five-cheese
macaroni casserole

was gonna make it all better.

And it did.

Mike, you can't let this
go on forever.

Okay? She's your mother.

Yeah, well, if you're
so in love with her,

you can give her a call.

You know what started
this whole thing?

She asked me to help
get her a job. Here.

Seriously?

What did you tell her?

I can't have her working here.

That woman is toxic.

Bless me, Father,
for I have sinned.

It's been five days
since my last confession.

Go ahead, my child.

Father, this is
very hard for me.

How does a good-hearted person
who only means well

become so prideful
and pigheaded?

Well, we are all weak.

But what is important

is that you're
acknowledging your mistakes

and are willing to repent.

I'm not talking about me.

It's my ungrateful son.

I sacrificed everything
for that boy,

and how does he pay me back?

By saying I'm toxic
and horrible to be around.

Can you believe that?

That he would say it, or...?

I'm not quite sure
what you're confessing.

I guess the sin of
thinking my only child

might appreciate
all that I've done for him.

That's not a sin.

That just sounds
like being needy.

Hey, I came here
for your absolution,

not your opinion.

Yes, but I can't
absolve you of anything

if nothing's your fault.

I'd like to talk
to your supervisor.

Is the monsignor around?

He's on a retreat, Peggy.

It's just me.

Well, then, maybe you need
to look at yourself.

"Judge not, lest ye be judged."

Matthew 7:1.

"First take the log
out of your own eye,

and then you will see clearly."

Matthew 7:5.

"Thou shalt not covet
thy parish's choir director."

Book of Peggy,
chapter one, verse one,

phone call to the archdiocese.

We're done here.

Hey, if you can't
stand the heat,

stay out of the box!

Hey.

How you doing?

Good.

Just watching the hockey game.

Well, it's not the same
watching it without your mom.

You're right.

It is so much better.

Come on.
What?

It's quieter, it's less tense.

Nobody's calling me a jinx
when the other team scores.

Mike, I know that your...

mother can be unpleasant,

and abrasive, and manipulative,

and vindictive,
and a liar, but...

I mean, there has to be

another side.

There has to be.

Baby, you haven't talked to
her in a week and a half.

Are you gonna tell me that...

that doesn't bother you at all?

Honestly, I'm fine with it.

I slept nine full hours
last night.

I didn't grind my teeth.

I dreamt I could fly.

I mean, you know,
I-I don't know what's going on,

but I-I couldn't be happier.

You're just riding the high

off of telling off
your horrible mother,

which I still can't
believe I missed, but...

It's time to make this right.

I don't have to make it right.

This is right.

Like when I quit
eating spicy food

and my heartburn went away.

Now that she's gone,
no more acid burps.

You know what?

I'll bet I could go back
to eating Mexican food.

So, what?

You're never gonna talk
to your mother again?

I'm not committing to nothing
until I eat a plate of nachos.

Hey.

Just so you know, by marriage
you're dead to me, too.

Peggy, I know you're upset.

Of course I am.

My son humiliated me

at my own retirement party.

Because you didn't
actually retire.

What do you know?

I talked to the ladies
you used to work with

when I invited them to
your retirement party.

Which Mike ruined.

Because you're not
really retired!

Okay? We are going
round and round here.

Why don't you go round
and round and out that door?

Okay, fine.

I'll leave.
But you know what?

I'm gonna say something first.

If you spend your entire life

thinking that everyone
you meet is the problem,

it just might be you
that's the problem.

Now you sound like my priest.

And the mailman.

And that idiot at the deli.

I don't need a number.

I know who I was in front of.

Okay, maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe it is
everyone else's fault.

That's what I've been saying!

Look, Peggy, I get it.

Okay? I'm stubborn, too.

Damn right you are.

And a bad cook.

I like where this is going.

The point is that

I have learned to
admit when I'm wrong

and to accept
responsibility for it.

'Cause I'd rather
be wrong and loved

than stubborn and alone.

Is any of this landing?

'Cause I-I can't
read that scowl.

I heard you.

Well, then, call your son.

Trust me, you'll feel better.

From one stubborn gal
to another.

You know what?

You're right.

You and I aren't so different.

I don't know if I'd go that far.

Stubborn,

always have to get our own way,

madly in love with my boy...

Ew.

I guess what they say is true.

Sons do grow up
to marry their mothers.

That's not true.

God, that can't be true.

* For she's a jolly
good fellow *

* Which nobody can deny. *

This is so much better.

More intimate,
not so many strangers.

Well, those strangers
were my family.

I didn't mean that.

I meant strange, as in weird.

This is the knife
you got to cut the cake?

You told me to grab the one
off the counter.

Never mind.

I'm surprised you didn't
grab the can opener.

See?

This is nice.

I'm sorry.

I should have let you enjoy
your motherless high

for a few more weeks.

I got a taste.

I should be good
for another 35 years.

I can't believe
I actually thought

she was gonna apologize to you.

Ah, she did in her own way.

Usually, she'd rub something
like this in my face.

Now she's pretending
like it didn't even happen,

which is a big step for her.

Now we can cut the cake.

That is the same knife.

It's a different knife.

She's retired.

Live the lie.

How about a big corner piece
for my boy?

Not too big.

All of a sudden
I got really bad heartburn.