Modern Family (2009–…): Season 7, Episode 20 - Promposal - full transcript

Mitchell helps Luke out with his "promprosal," sparking Cam's jealousy. Claire discovers that there is a mole for Jay in the company. Phil and Gloria confront a competitor who stole Gloria's sauce recipe.

Come on, Joe. Buff that sucker.

What'd I teach you?

Sanitary.

Is Joe applying for a job
in a train station in 1940?

Just teaching him a few things
every man should know.

Someone has to get in there early,

or sometimes the kid turns out funny.

Knock, knock.

Hey, Phil. Hey, guys.

Phil, in here!

You ready to tackle your website?



I know I'm here a little early.

I thought I was gonna be --

Do you recognize that?

Are you kidding? I love your sauce.

Some of it fell out
of my burrito last night,

and I licked it right off the remote.

That's Auntie Alice's new sauce!

She stole my recipe!

I know.

I am the crazy Colombian
that always loses her temper

and needs to be calmed down
by the white people.

No! I don't think
you're being crazy enough.

I'm not a violent man, but
I know how nuts it can make you

to create something special
only to have it stolen from you.



Do you remember
a hit song called "Happy?"

Yeah, it was like a couple of years ago

with the clapping and the hat.

A couple of years ago, huh?

So a full four years
after this burst on the scene.

# Because I'm snappy #

# Snap with me if you think
that today is a good day #

# That's right, I'm snappy #

# Snap with me if you took
a test and you go-o-t an A #

# You see, I'm snappy #

Sounds just a little similar, right?

A little, but -- Thank you!

But do you think that he saw this?

Um, it had 27 views.

Come on. We're going down to that market

to make that old bat cease and desist.

I will not stand idly by

while Auntie Alice
Pharrell Williamses you.

Where are you two going?

To the market.

We need olives!

# Modern Family 7x20 #
Promposal
Original Air Date on May 4, 2016

And then when the lights go out,

she'll be able to read the
glow-in-the-dark ink on your T-shirt.

Oh, my God. She's gonna love it.

She? Who's she?

What are you guys working on?

Nothing. Nothing.

Oh, okay. I get it, yeah.

He's -- I'll just be down
in the bedroom, you know,

at the end of the --
at the end of the hall.

Hey, thanks for your help.

I really like this girl,

and there's just so much pressure

to do something spectacular
when you ask a girl out to prom.

Is there something wrong
with your air vents?

No, Cam breathes through
his nose when he hides.

A promposal? To who? Laurie Vock?

Oh, no. She's Ian Jacobs' girl.

Melanie Rylance?
You have to be careful with her.

She has more cold sores
than Abby Burmeister.

But seriously, Luke,
everything you say here

is completely confidential.

Oh, you know, they are looking
for chaperones for prom,

and I thought maybe we could --

No, we have tickets to the
opening of "Cabaret" that night.

I'm not missing it
so I can tell some teenage girl

to keep her dress on.

I spent my own prom doing that.

Okay, can I just point out the absurdity

that you ask this uncle to
advise you and not this uncle,

who hung a Valentine's banner
outside of his office

that said, "Mitchell,

you're the best husband,
father, and lover."

Didn't love all three of those
being rolled into one sentence.

Sounded a little Ozark-y.

No, Cam. Stop. What?

Luke's just looking for an adviser

who's a little more understated

and a little less, you know...

David Stuart.

Oh, I get it.

He's quite gay. Yes, I got it.

Okay, well, you know what?

I would hate to muck up your promposal

with my flair and panache.

I'm sure the lucky girl
will swoon with delight

when you use a mustard bottle

to write "Wanna go?"
on her turkey burger.

Hello?

There's an intruder in the house.

What?!

But you have nothing to worry about

with Pritchett's Guardian 3000 Closet,

which doubles as
a military-grade panic room.

So no intruder? No!

I'm just so excited about this idea.

I'm debuting it next week at ClosetCon.

What do you think?

I think I'm studying for finals.

Can't you scare the crap
out of a focus group?

Like I'm gonna share my best closet idea

with a room full of strangers

four days before
the most hotly anticipated

storage convention in North America.

Good point. You do have
Haley's number, right?

# Ooh, do-do-do-do, do-do-do #
# From the first time that I saw your face #

# Ooh, do-do-do, do-do-do, ay-ee-ay #
# I knew you could mine #

# Ahh #

Alex Dunphy, would you make me
the happiest cat in school

and swing by prom with me?

Sha-Na-nope.

Hey, Jerry.

For some reason,
I'm locked out of my computer.

Apparently, someone tried

to access my e-mail before I got in.

Someone hell-bent
on leaking company secrets.

It is four days until C-Con, and
Pritchett's Closets has a mole.

No one is above suspicion.

Margaret, where were you
this morning at 9:45 a.m.?

I'm so sorry I was late.

I was at Overeaters Anonymous.

I woke up next to the ice cream again.

So not Margaret.

_

I know who that locker belongs to.

I can't believe you're asking
that cheap Ho to the prom.

Cam! Sarah Ho!

She gave me a $5 gift card
for Teacher Appreciation Day.

What's with the birds?

Oh, these are just some turtledoves

for Manny's promposal.

You're joking.

You felt so slighted over Luke asking me

that you foisted yourself on Manny?

There was no foisting.

I asked Manny if he needed help.

He was too proud to admit
that he did, so here we are.

Is it possible there's something
deeper going on with you

around this whole prom area?

Is it possible you're second-guessing

your no-frills approach?

Especially compared
to turtledoves, backup dancers,

and dry ice so Manny can appear
in a cloud of mist.

A cloud of mist?

Like in a movie?

Is our thing gonna seem lame now?

Steady.

Now, now. I'm sure your thing is fine.

What did your little locker note say?

"Go to the gym".

Intriguing.

What delights await her in the gym?

Another note telling her
to go to the parking lot.

Well, I should help Manny set up.

Should I be worried?

Don't freak me out right now, okay?

Okay. All right. It's fine. Just fine.

You don't have to use it,
but at least you'll have it.

Hello, Auntie Alice.

Or should she say Auntie Malice?

No, Gloria's right. It's Alice.

I didn't know you were in today.

You're in -- trouble!

Is he okay?

You stole my sauce! What?

Uh, I'm sorry.
Maybe you don't hear so good.

She said, "You...stole...

her...sauce."

Wow.

That's spicy.

That's not the sauce she stole.

That's her Volcano sauce.

In her ad, one drop

turns a hockey rink
into a swimming pool.

It's her new sauce, the one
that tastes just like mine.

How are you going to explain that?

Yeah, we want answers
and a little bread.

Your fight's not with me.

I'm not really Auntie Alice.

Oh, come on.

Your cute face is in the bottle!

Auntie Alice is a brand that was
created by a big corporation.

So they were the ones
who stole my sauce?

They steal all kinds of products.

And they have an army of lawyers

just ready to crush
anyone who challenges them.

So we just have to take it?

Ow!

It's in my eye! Oh!

Please don't repeat any of this,
or I could lose my job.

I'm still paying off my improv classes.

How is this food?!

This will probably be yours someday,

so no reason
you shouldn't learn to do this.

Does Manny know how to change oil?

Bath oils. What?

Bath oil?

There's my guy.

Let me grab the dipstick.

This stick?

Ow!

Manny. Okay. I just briefed the team.

Dry ice is ready.
Bow ties are on the birds.

Save it, Cam.

Megan already said yes to Shawn Reeves.

He asked her last period.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Manny.

Can't really blame her.

I mean, you try saying no
to Shawn Reeves

with his weatherman smile
and his exotic Canadian accent.

Well, there must be
someone else you can ask.

No, that's okay.
There's always next year.

At least this way I can see
the opening of "Cabaret".

Oh, please. It's just "Cabaret".

It's been revived more times
than Dick Cheney.

Okay. You're not missing your prom.

Cam... I'm getting the feeling

this is much more important
to you than it is to me.

Well, maybe because
I didn't get to go to mine.

Oh. I'm sorry.

Yeah, it's a painful story.

I get it. Some things
are better left unsaid.

Her name was Tina Day.

We were just friends,
but I was so into asking her,

I rented a white stallion
and a suit of armor.

I wanted it to be a whole
"knight and Day" theme.

Hm.

I was promposing
before it was even a thing.

I rode up her driveway,

and I could see when she opened the door

through the little slits in my helmet

what her answer was gonna be.

She wanted a traditional prom night

with a guy
she could lose her virginity to.

I couldn't blame her.

I wanted the same thing.

There's always Melanie Rylance,

but you wouldn't want me
to ask someone --

Delta, ready the dancers
and dove cannon.

Poor lady.

I feel terrible for screaming
at her like that.

I blame myself.

I blame yourself, too.

I'm sorry.

I'm just kind of
going through something.

I got bumped from Lily's
career day this morning

by a periodontist.

That's right -- My job is
less interesting that root rot.

Who cares about a bunch
of third graders?

You love being a real-estate agent.

First of all, I'm not
just a real-estate agent.

I'm a Realtor.

I'm a member of a national
association, a brotherhood,

sworn to the Realtor Code of Ethics!

That's what this "R" stands for.

Though, lately, it feels
like it stands for "regret".

I know everything there is
to know about real estate,

and nobody seems to care.

Maybe I have the most boring
job in the world.

No, Phil.

Closets is the most boring job
in the world.

Ay, poor thing.

She has to take the bus.

Let's offer her a ride.

Yes, yes.

A Maserati?

She lied to us!

Seguila! Seguila!

No, that means "follow her".

Oh.

Hello? Hey, Mom.

How do you turn on the
sprinklers for the front lawn?

Uh, it's a little control box
by the front door.

Why? No reason.

Look, now that I've got you
on the phone,

I'm thinking it might be time to
upgrade our Internet security.

Thoughts?

Get rid of the Post-it note
on your laptop

with your password on it.

Why are you so worried about security?

It's my first ClosetCon as C.E.O.,

and I am dealing
with corporate espionage.

Well, if you're so worried about it,

why don't you just call Grandpa?

Do you know how that would look?

I mean, it's bad enough
to go to the person

who had your job before you,

but when that person is Daddy...

Honey, closet people are ruthless.

They'd eat me alive.

Or maybe the world isn't filled
with heartless monsters.

Hi. My phone is wet.

Can you call my mom?

Hey, guys. Sorry I'm late.

I just got off the horn

with Rick Friedman
over at Shelf Involved.

That poor guy.

Someone there has given
away corporate secrets.

Makes me so glad

that we just upgraded
our whole security system.

I mean, we got hidden cameras
around this place

that I don't even know about.

So, we got a cake
for Margaret's birthday.

Mm-hmm.

Fun.

How you doing, Ben?

Me?

I'm good. I am good.

I am chill.

I'm gonna go to the bathroom, so...

It's not really my birthday.

I just wanted cake.

I eat garbage because I am garbage.

Hey, Dad. Hi.

Um, listen. Can I call you back?

Just wanted to confirm
we're on for dinner at --

Oh, got another call. One sec.

Yeah, I think she's onto us.

Yeah, a lot of mole talk.

I think we just need to calm things d--

What?

You're talking to her right now?

Yeah, okay, bye.

So, we're on for tonight?

Sure. Great.

And, hey, you sound a little tense.

Don't let the job make you crazy, huh?

You go that route, soon you're
seeing plots everywhere.

Great tip, Dad.

Aah!

You're spying for my dad!

What? No! Yes. I'm sorry.

I don't know why I agreed.

I just look up to your dad so much.

I can't believe he doesn't trust me.

Why did he put me in charge, then?

I don't know, but I can find out.

I'll double-agent.

I've been working this game
since my parents' divorce.

I was the only 10-year-old in Great Neck

with no bedtime and Diners Club card.

Fine. Don't make any plans for tonight.

You're coming to dinner with me.
All right.

Um, can we stop by my house
to change my shoes?

I didn't make it up here
on the first try.

_

All right, the dove cannon's loaded,

the dancers are stretching,
the dry ice is billowing.

The moment you get her outside,
I will cue the team.

Oh, there she is.

Okay. Go.

All right, team. Look alive.

We are hot. We are hot.

Hey, Melanie. Listen -- Manny.

Do you want to go to prom with me?

Uh, sure.

Oh, hey.

You got a second?

Yeah.

Yeah, I'm second. You're first.

I get it. You win everything.

That seems like something
I'm gonna hear about later.

I need help with Luke's promposal, okay?

Can you go to the gym, wait for
Sarah, and then hand her this?

Okay, this is what I've been reduced to?
Yeah.

Delivering an unperfumed envelope
like a common bellhop?

Fine. Thank you. Okay.

Stand down, everybody.

Little Bear's gone rogue.

Wait.

Grayson! Hey.

Hey, Coach. Hey.

Don't suppose you're planning
on asking anyone to prom.

Um, I don't think we're allowed
to go with teachers.

That's not what...

So, this is the house
that stolen sauce built.

I'm so angry that I don't even
know what I'm gonna say to her!

Ah, so, this is the house

that the stolen sauce built!

Oh, I know what you're thinking,
but this isn't my house.

I just come here to get my paycheck.

Grandma, my shower's broken.

I'm gonna use the one in the guesthouse.

Whoa.

Please be my new piano teacher.

Fine.

I'm Auntie Alice.

Auntie Thief and Auntie Liar.

Yeah, yeah.

I'm sure we can work something out.

Who's your patent lawyer?

I don't have one.

I know.

I patented your sauce this morning.

Have a good trip home, kids.

I am so sorry, Phil,
that I wasted your whole day,

but I am more sorry of
what I'm gonna do to your car!

Gloria, we're above that.

But not everyone would be.

You should put that beauty
in your garage.

I don't have one. Oh, really?

Just out of curiosity,
do you not have a garage

because you converted it
into the guesthouse

where your grandson's
currently showering?

What's your game, mister?

I just find it interesting that you have

a fully plumbed stand-alone
dwelling on your property.

That's none of your business.

Even more peculiar, your
grandson appears to live here,

but judging by his T-shirt,
he goes to Eden Mills High,

an elite public school 12 miles
outside of your district.

Oh, maybe with the money
you saved on private schools,

you paid for the new two-sided
brick fireplace I saw,

which hasn't been legal since 1988.

Go, Phil, go!

Pull the sauce, Big Al,

or Monday morning, the city's
here with a bulldozer,

and your grandson goes to
a school with a metal detector.

How do you know all this?

What are you -- some kind
of real-estate agent?

No. He's a Realtor.

There is a difference somehow!

Oh, hey, kids.

Actually, I'm waiting for Sarah,

so if I could have the room
for just a -- a minute.

Thank -- Okay, funny.

Whoever turned out the lights,
please turn them back on.

They're not working. Might be a fuse.

Oh, um...

Mitchell, we have a problem.

No, we don't.

I mean, unless you're busy that night.

Are -- Are you asking me to prom?

Well, you know, they need chaperones.

Mitchell, this is the sweetest
thing you've ever done for me.

I-I don't know if I've mentioned it,

but I never got to go to my own prom.

It's come up.

What about Luke's promposal?

Well, your husband, who
couldn't plan anything romantic

with a gun to his head,

may have pulled off
two promposals at once.

Mm-hmm. Hey.

Do you have any idea
who put that note in my locker

asking me to be a part of this thing?

Oh, yeah, it was my uncle.

It's pretty clever
how he turned out the lights.

I said, "Turned out the lights"!

Oh, my God! Yes!

Oh! That's so sweet. I...

And I can't believe
I'm finally going to prom.

I can't believe
I finally have a happy memory

in a high-school gym.

Joe did that to you? Yeah.

Slammed a car hood on it. Why?

I owed him money.

It slipped while I was
teaching him to check oil.

Well, that's pretty advanced
for a 3-year-old.

What can I say? I believe in my kids.

Thank you. Mmm. Mm.

Looks good. Thank you. Mm-hmm.

Very nice.

Let's quickly go over the plan.

My dad's gonna be here any minute.
Mm-hmm.

We're doing this in stages.

One finger means you text him

"We're closing the blinds division".

Our biggest earner?

He's gonna lose it if I tell
him we're shuttering blinds.

Two fingers, we're partnering
with Rod Bushmill.

That sleazebag represents
everything your father

spent an entire career fighting against.

Three fingers, we're not
going to ClosetCon. Wha--

Are you trying to teach your father
a lesson or crush his soul?

Just business, kid.

Monster.

Looks good. Thank you. Mm-hmm.

So...with all this prom stuff coming up,

is your house as topsy-turvy as ours is?

Not really. Manny's taking this girl.

She's nothing special, but solid.

Mm. Reliable.

A lot like our blinds division.

You know -- not sexy, but --

No, Dad. No shop talk.

You've had enough of that
for a lifetime.

Wow, your phone
is really blowing up tonight.

Mm.

Two old-fashioneds.

Thank you. Oh, thank you.

Okay. Here.

You know what else seems
old-fashioned to me nowadays?

Mm? Integrity.

Maybe because I spent my career

fighting the sleazeballs
in our industry.

You know -- the Rod Bushmill types.

Rod's a sweetheart.

He bought me lunch last week.

We got to talking
about whether or not we --

What am I doing?

Jibber-jabbering about work. Mm.

So, that little grease monkey Joe is 3.

Hard to believe. 3.

They grow up so fast.

Got to be nice, though, Dad,

knowing that your company
is in good hands

and you can stay home all day long
and just play with your kid.

Have you lost your mind?

Well, not all day, obviously.

3-year-olds are nothing
but bipolar germ buckets.

You're skipping out on ClosetCon?

Who told you that? Ben.

That little weasel told me everything.

Listen, I can tolerate
shutting down the blinds,

even Rod Bushmill, but not
showing up for ClosetCon,

you're asking not to be taken seriously.

My God, Claire!

We're one strong season
away from being invited

to Expo Internationale du Closets!

Why are you looking at me like that?

'Cause I'm not doing
any of those things.

I told that little weasel Ben
to text you those things

when I found out
that he was spying for you.

And, by the way,
it doesn't feel very nice

to know that you don't think
that I can run your company.

That's not why I did it.

I thought maybe you could
use a little support.

You're staring down the barrel
of your first ClosetCon.

So you spied on me?

I mean, you could have given me a call.

And tell you that you're
not doing your job?

That would have gone over fine with you.

Need any help?

No! No.

I mean, look at us.

Why can't we both admit

that we could use
each other's help right now?

Are we too proud to even do that?

I'll admit it if you will.

Fine. On 3.

1...2...3.

Will you crack my lobster?
I want to come back to work.

What?! Damn it!

Oh, my God.
You want to come back to work?

I miss it, okay?

You know how it is when you
have closets in your blood.

I'm going crazy in retirement.

Why are you smiling at me like that?

Because we're so similar.

Do you know how many times
I've wanted to call you

to ask for your help or advice,

but I was afraid I would look weak?

Here. You crack this.

Give me that. I'll open these things.

Well, Dad, what do you think
about coming back to work --

I don't know -- one or two days a week?

What I was thinking was,
I'd have a staff of five. Mm-hmm.

My own building. What?

And I report to no one.

I'm kidding.

I'll put a desk in the copy room.

And, by the way, I've
known you for a long time.

The last thing you need to
worry about is looking weak.

It's not always easy
to ask for what you want,

whether it's a little romance...

or a little help...

...or a little respect.

So, I admire you for asking -- I don't.

We both know why they're asking.

No, you may not use our upstairs
apartment for an after party.

Oh.

Lame.

You look ravishing, my sweet.

We said no talking.

_

Come on. Come on. I'm thirsty.

I'll tell you when you're thirsty.

Come on. Let me feel that power.

Come on. Make that leather sing!

All right. Come on. Get on your bike.

Back up. Get on your bike. Come on.

They can't hit you
if they can't reach you.

My pants are falling.

Well, pull 'em up.

Pull 'em up high to your nipples.

That prevents a low blow.

What's a low blow?

Fantastic.

I have to emcee
a poetry retrospective tomorrow,

and this shawl collar's
got more wrinkles

than last night's "Downton Abbey".

That is.