The Carrie Diaries (2013–2014): Season 1, Episode 6 - Endgame - full transcript

Before there was sex,
before there was the city,

there was just me... Carrie.
Carrie Bradshaw.

And things were getting
pretty complicated

with my sister...

You better start
explaining yourself.

Or what? You'll ground me?
You're not my mom.

With the guy
I was interested in...

This isn't gonna happen.

What do you mean?
Us. You and me.

And my friends.

With you not dating
someone anymore,



I just don't know
if this is a good idea.

It was never a good idea.
That's what made it fun.

Walt.
What are you doing here?

But some things were changing
for the better.

I'm George.
I'm klutzy. Sorry.

I think you're
selling yourself a bit short.

I like you, Carrie.

I want something real.

♪ I feel the earth move

my mother's favorite holiday
was Thanksgiving.

Her goal was to make it
the perfect day,

down to every last detail.

♪ I feel
my heart start to trembling ♪

♪ Whenever you're around



and now all I wanted

was to keep
that perfect holiday alive,

even though my mom
no longer was.

♪ ...Of may

♪ oh, darling

I guess you could say
I was obsessed, too.

♪ when you look at me that way

and when you're obsessed
with one goal,

it's hard to focus
on anything else...

♪ I feel the sky tumbling down

even during an amazing date

with your brand-new,
sophisticated,

New York boyfriend.

♪ a-tumbling down

luckily for me,
he didn't seem to mind.

Should I make
cranberry sauce?

Or is that one of those things
everyone secretly hates?

I don't know anything
about cranberries,

but I do know that you'd be
a really sexy chef.

I would love to see you
in an apron.

What was I saying again?

Cranberry sauce.

Mmm.

I'm definitely gonna make
my mom's ambrosia salad.

What the hell is
an ambrosia salad?

Mmm. Is it hot out here
or is it just me?

Definitely just you.
It's 40 degrees.

You know,
I've never dated anyone

who cooked anything before,

much less
an entire Thanksgiving meal.

It's so...
Connecticut.

Well, to be honest, I've never
cooked a day in my life...

Except in the microwave.

But my grandma will be doing
most of the actual cooking.

I'll just assist her.

Oh, so you'll be
the sous chef.

My grandma's name is Helen.

Not sue. S-o-u-s.
You'll be assisting.

Exactly.
The main thing is,

I want it to be as close
as what my mom did as possible.

My family's favorite holiday
is Thanksgiving.

My dad's whole family came,
all my cousins.

That sounds like
a lot of people.

I don't even have
any cousins.

You don't have cousins?

Harlan's an only child,

and kick's sister doesn't
eat enough to get pregnant.

My extended family
pretty much consisted

of the maitre D'
at le cirque.

I called him Uncle Jacques.

All right.

Time to resume the official
George silver central Park tour.

There's more?

I'm not sure you can top
the statue you peed on

the first time
you got drunk...

When you were 11.

That was a joke, right?

Maybe. Maybe not.

I have to keep
an air of mystery about me.

Wait till you see

the bushes were I smoked
my first cigarette.

Ah, preschool...

In High School,

even a family holiday
can inspire gossip.

I wonder if Donna's bringing him
to the country club

for Thanksgiving.

Then I'll have to watch them
make out.

Ugh. Talk about losing
your appetite.

Are they really that serious?

I heard he's spending it
with his mom.

Where are you getting
your scoop?

He mentioned it
during chemistry.

It's okay I talk to him, right?

Of course. It's nice
he's spending time with his mom.

What? I can be happy for him

even though
we're not anything anymore.

Happy Turkey day, Bradshaw.

Right back at ya, Kydd.

Wow. You guys are being
ever so slightly obvious.

You have a rich,
hot Manhattan boyfriend,

and Sebastian can suck it.

I wouldn't exactly phrase it
like that,

but... yeah. I guess.

Well, me and my hot
Connecticut boyfriend

are spending
Thanksgiving dinner together.

I love Walt so much,

I don't even mind if it's
a total W.A.S.P. snoozefest.

I apologize in advance
because the Turkey will be dry,

and my great Uncle Kenneth
will not be.

Well, my Turkey
is going to be delicious.

You're not really
going to cook.

That was a joke, right?

I'm sorry.
Why would that be funny?

I never told you this,
but I'm still traumatized from

the microwave nachos you made me
in the seventh grade.

You burned Velveeta.

Well, Velveeta is confusing.

I mean, is it even a cheese
or what?

All I'm saying is that
cooking for Thanksgiving

is much more advanced

than anything you can do
with a processed cheese product.

I know.

That's why I'm going to let my
grandma do most of the cooking.

I need this to be perfect.

This is our first family holiday
since...

You know.

I couldn't blame my friends
for being right.

Preparing for Thanksgiving
was a heavy burden...

Literally.

Whoa. Whoa! Here.

I got it.

Ooh.
The grocery store was insane.

I saw two women
get in a slap fight

over the last box
of stuffing mix.

Luckily, I'm fast.

Did you find the glass
salad bowl for the ambrosia?

Uh... I'm afraid
I have some bad news.

You couldn't find it?
We always have it in that bowl.

Uh, no, it's not that.

Um, there's a big storm
in Florida,

and they've canceled
all the flights.

Your grandparents won't
be able to come.

Oh, no.
Yep.

No grandparents.

Thanksgiving's canceled.

It's not canceled, Dorrit.

It's just not what
we would usually do.

But I've come up with
a fantastic idea.

I've invited
Harlan and George over,

and I thought we could just...
Oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no.
This cannot be happening.

Oh, don't tell me
you two broke up already.

How am I supposed to keep up?

Dad, we just started dating.
And George is from the city.

I'm not ready for him to see
suburban Carrie yet.

George probably
doesn't even eat Turkey.

He probably has foie gras,
or whatever that is.

It's a fat duck.
How do you even know that?

We don't have to worry
about that, okay?

I figured we would
just order takeout anyway.

Why would we order takeout

when I just battled my way
through the grocery store?

Because grandma won't be here
to cook.

I can cook.

What?

I can follow
all of mom's recipes.

They're really detailed.

Honey, you don't have to
do this for us.

It's too much work.
No one expects it of you.

Do you think I can pull
this off, but I can. Trust me.

You're gonna be thanking me

when we're sitting down
at the dining room table,

not eating kung pao chicken
from the carton.

Come on, dad.
It'll be mom's recipe.

She did make a great Turkey.

The only one in the history
of turkeys that wasn't dry.

You're delusional.

Why don't I get a say in this?

I don't want to eat
Carrie's cooking. I wanna live.

Shut up, Dorrit.

Now I have things to chop
and salad bowls to find,

so both of you scram.

Scram.

You sound just like
your mother.

But if you need any help...

I got this!

My goal was to make

my mother's Thanksgiving
a reality,

and that meant making
her famous ambrosia salad.

When you're determined
to reach your goal,

obstacles don't
scare you away...

Not even the prospect
of your cool new boyfriend

in close proximity
to your hello Kitty collection.

But that didn't mean I wouldn' .

Everything that was possible
to hide, I hid.

But I couldn't hide
everything embarrassing.

What are you doing?

Dorrit wouldn't fit
in the drawers.

What does it look like
I'm doing?

I'm cleaning up.
We're having guests,

including a guy
I really like,

and I want him
to think I'm cool.

Good luck with that,
hello Kitty.

Are you seriously
gonna wear that?

You look like a-a hobo.

Hobo? Who says "hobo"?

Stop acting like a grown-up.
It's annoying.

No, what's annoying
is your lack of desire

to make this day special
for all of us.

You're annoying and a loser.
Bye.

At least clean up your room.
Not gonna happen.

You're only spiting yourself.
Not really.

Oh, my gosh.
I don't have time for this.

I need to get the Turkey
in the oven.

Just please don't act like
a freak in front of our guests.

There he was...

Shaun Cassidy,
my teen dream.

But there was no way

I could let him
come face-to-face

with my real boyfriend.

While I worried about Dorrit
letting her true colors show,

Maggie had hidden
her true colors

for Walt's sake.

Are you going to church?

What are you doing here?

Your dad invited a bunch of us
to come over

and eat and watch the game.

Couldn't turn down an invitation
from the boss.

Or a chance to see you.

Even if you are dressed
like Nancy Reagan.

Not that it's any
of your business,

but I'm going
to my boyfriend's,

where they dress up
for dinner.

I... didn't know you guys
were back together.

Now you do.

And your mom's okay
with you missing Thanksgiving

with your family?

She thinks it's great.
It means we're serious.

If you'll excuse me.

Here we go. I can do this.

You're already behind.

You shouldn't have taken
an hour to clean up

for your cool new boyfriend.

Zip it, Dorrit. It's 10:58,

which means
I'm two minutes ahead

of my perfect
Thanksgiving schedule.

Wait.

I can't read the recipe.

Probably a grease stain.

Looks like
we can't eat Turkey.

Let's see.
Christmas cookies.

"Fun with fondue."

Quick breads and cakes.

Where are all
the normal cookbooks?

How should I know?

Okay,
so I don't have any recipes.

Uh... you always hung out
with mom in the kitchen

while dad and I watched
football.

Any chance she taught you how
to, you know, cook a Turkey?

Nope. Sorry.

What am I gonna do?

Admit this whole idea's
a joke.

I am so happy
you're here.

My perfect Thanksgiving is
turning into a total disaster.

And forget about me keeping
an air of mystery for George.

I was on the verge
of asking my dad

to make his frito
and bean dip for dinner.

Oh. Well, good thing
we did the early seating

at the country club.

I'm yours
for the rest of the day.

Donna was there.
If I had to hear her coo...

"My boyfriend Sebastian"...

One more time...

Sebastian was
at the country club?

No, but that didn't stop her
from going on and on about him.

So... What have you
gotten done so far?

Um, the Turkey's thawed.

Okay. Good. What else?
I called you.

Then let's get down
to business.

Oh, no. He's here.

I'll get it!
Apron or not?

Is it
too suburban hausfrau?

George has only seen
Manhattan, Carrie,

and I don't want
Connecticut Carrie to scare him.

He knows
you're from the suburbs.

What's the big deal?

Mouse, we talked
about this.

It's too early for him
to see so much of the real me.

There are photo albums
in this house

of me in headgear.
Headgear.

Okay. Okay, I get it.

You look like you, Carrie,

non hausfrau variety.

You have nothing
to worry about.

Thanks.

The food would have to wait.

Phase two of "operation
perfect Thanksgiving"

was in effect...
Impressing George.

Good to see you again.
Come on in. Uh, can I tell her...

Coats, guys?

I know Carrie's expecting you.

Welcome to our home,
Mr. silver.

Oh, call me "Harlan."
George does.

- Harlan.
- Call him "Mr. silver""

right.
Happy Thanksgiving, George.

Wonderful bottle of
scotch for a wonderful day.

I look forward
to partaking...

Just when it seemed like
everything was under control,

there he was.

Dad, George, Harlan...
Uh, Mr. silver,

why don't you head to the den?

Uh, you'll find crudit...
Croo-dit... carrot sticks

on the coffee table,
and I believe

the cowboys/patriots game
is about to start.

Sounds good to me.

You don't need help
in the kitchen?

No. No. Go ahead. You don't
wanna miss kickoff.

I'd rather hang out
with you.

Um...

Well, in, hat case, how about
I take you on a tour

of the upstairs?

Hmm. I like that idea.

Go ahead.

Can Tony Dorsett
run the ball defensively?

And which quarterback shows up
and has the better day?

Nice try.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Come back for the kickoff.
So sit back for a...

I'm sorry. If someone
who looks like

Arnold Schwarzen-
whatever-his-name is

comes to your door and asks
if you're Sarah Connor,

you say "no."

You say you're Jane Smith
and you get the hell... eck

out of there.

Other than that,
the movie was pretty good.

You do have
a way with words, Maggie.

I never go to the cinema
anymore.

Every film they release looks
more dreadful than the last.

Thank you for
saving me from extreme boredom.

I owe you.
Yeah, you do.

Walter, did you catch
the dartmouth-Princeton game

last weekend?
No, sir, I missed it. Darn!

Well, don't you worry.
You'll have plenty of time

to go to the games
when you're at dartmouth.

I made most of my closest
friends when I was there.

Did I ever tell you how
my D.K.E. Brothers and I...

spent an entire night
in a wine cellar tied up naked.

Yes, many, many times.

It's always funny
to hear, though.

Well, I can't wait for you
to have that experience,

too, Walter.

Me either, dad.

And what about you, Maggie?

Any idea where you'd like
to go to college?

College?
Oh, no, I'm a junior.

I don't have to worry
about that till next year.

Oh. Um...

I'll probably just
look for a school

not too far away from Walt.

We haven't really
talked about it.

Yeah. I mean, who knows
what'll happen?

The future's
a long way away.

Indeed,
and you're much too young

to make those kind of plans.

Follow him to college?

That was a joke.
What is this, the 1950s?

I don't get it.

Maggie couldn't have
felt less at home.

So here we are...
My bedroom.

But George seemed
pretty comfortable in mine.

I've been waiting to do that
since I saw you in this apron.

Carrie?
I'm busy.

Mouse needs you in the kitchen.
She says it's urgent.

Poor mouse.
She tends to get flustered.

I should probably go see
what's going on.

No problem. Maybe later
you can give me a tour

of the basement.

It's kind of dark and yucky
down there.

Mouse was having
a total cow.

But don't worry.
I'll keep George company.

Come on. I'll take you
to the den.

I didn't think
anything could be worse

than leaving Dorrit alone
with George,

but I was wrong.

Just close your eyes
and do it.

You do it. You're the one
who wants to be the surgeon.

A people surgeon,
not a Turkey surgeon!

Now hurry up, or this Turkey
won't be done until midnight,

which I highly doubt is what
you had in mind

for your
"perfect Thanksgiving""

I was thinking
more like 5:30.

Well, then you know
what to do.

So we eat
at midnight.

And George is from Manhattan.

He probably does that
all the time.

Carrie, do it. Go.

- Go, go! Go.
- Ew.

Aah!

What is that?

Ew, oh, oh!

Oh. Uhh!

Okay. Great. Ugh.
So that's done.

Now we I need to
go check on George and Dorrit.

Um, Carrie?
Yeah.

We need those giblets
for the gravy.

He has a man free
in the middle. And... oh!

Oh, come on!
You gotta catch the ball!

You are pathetic!

Ugh!
Landry, take your hat off.

You looking forward to that
Turkey your sister's cooking?

Oh, yeah, but then again,
I have a strong stomach.

Do you have
a strong stomach?

Oh, I get your shtick.

I don't have a shtick.

What's a shtick?

Let me guess.

You have a pet fish
named Morrissey.

You wear all black

because you think
it makes you look different,

even though all your friends
dress that way, too.

Morrissey is a hamster.

So you're saying
I'm some kind of cliche?

No, just going
through a phase.

I'm sure my shrink
would have a name for it.

You have a shrink?
That's so cool. I want one.

He was a birthday present
when I turned 7.

I was a biter.

I bit people until I was 8.
Cool.

Go, go, go!
Go! Go, go, go, go!

Come on! Ohh!
Come on! Ah!

Brie?
Oh, sure.

Hey, Dorrit, you wanna come hang
out with us in the kitchen?

I know you used to love
to do that when mom was cooking.

Come on. It'll be fun.

Doesn't sound fun.
Dorrit.

Besides, George and I
are talking.

Now he has
that breakaway speed.

Hey, George, can I borrow you
for a second?

Uh... sure.

- Oh, my...
- He's... he's blind!

Absolutely. Absolutely.

Sorry you're stuck
with my sister.

Is she being
a total bitch?

No, not at all.
She's actually really cool.

You don't have to be
polite.

No, really.
We're actually having fun.

Oh, God.
I mean, oh, good.

Carrie, I need you
in the kitchen. Now!

I really, really need you.

I think you should go
with your friend.

She seems really frazzled.

I guess I should.

I couldn't let
my boyfriend distract me

from making
my perfect Thanksgiving meal.

Go on. I'll be fine.

Okay.

Touchdown!

Yeah!

Yeah!

This better be serious.

We have a dire situation
in there.

Dorrit's torturing him?
No, it's much worse.

She's bonding with him.

And that's bad? Why?

This is Dorrit.
She'll play nice to suck him in,

then tell him
something hideous about me

like the Disney world story.

The pants-peeing story?

Not what I prefer
to call it, but yes.

Well, we have
bigger problems.

Bigger than George
finding out

I peed on both
chip and Dale's laps?

Yes, much bigger!

Look at the Turkey!
It's enormous!

The oven door
can't even close.

Why on earth would you buy
such a big one?

I didn't know they came
in different sizes.

I thought they were
all just... Turkey-sized.

Well, the heat's not staying in
because the door's ajar.

At this rate, the Turkey won't
be done until Christmas.

Whoo! Yeah!

What are we gonna do?

Uhh!

There. Broil.
Now the Turkey will cook

twice as fast,
and we'll still be on track

to eat at 5:30,
6:00 at the latest.

That actually seems
like it could work.

Great. Problem solved.

Not so fast!

What about the gravy,
the sweet potatoes,

and the 12 other things we have left
to do?!

Yeah!

Ugh. You're right.
Just give me a minute.

Now it's third down.

Where'd Dorrit go?

Uh, upstairs. Knowing her,

that means we won't see her
for the rest of the night.

Are you kidding me?!

That was...
That was out of bounds.

You're kidding me!

Absolutely... or he's bought off
by the... the cow... ugh.

Oh, uh, Carrie, any idea when
the Turkey will be done?

Your mother called me
in for dinner

right in the middle of
the fourth quarter every year.

So please don't rush
on my account.

Yeah. I don't think
that'll be a problem.

All right. Now that Dorrit
is taken care of,

I'm ready to do...
Whatever this thing does.

Okay. Here's to
a better second quarter

that leaves the cowboys
and that smug tom Landry bastard

on their asses, huh?

Who's your team, George?

And please don't say
the cowboys.

Worse.

I'm a jets man.

I'll be back.
Gotta use the bathroom.

How can he not like
the giants?

I'm half-convinced
he does it just to bug me.

That could be.
That could be.

When Carrie was 10 years old,
she got so pissed off

that I wouldn't let her
Pierce her ears,

she declared herself
a cowboys fan.

Well,
that Turkey smells good.

I don't think I've had
a home-cooked meal

since
the Ford administration.

So I could get
used to not having a wife.

Sorry. That came out wrong.

It's okay. It's okay.

I have some things
to be thankful for, too.

Yeah? Carrie is in
the kitchen cooking dinner.

Dorrit... has not blown
anything up yet.

This is...
These are good signs.

Right?
Yes.

So I'm just gonna look
on the bright side.

I get to Park myself here
and watch some football.

Lucky me.

While my dad
was feeling grateful...

The line of scrimmage
is pushed back.

Someone else found out
he didn't have much

to be grateful for.

...Going over.
This new England...

Your mother called.
She's very sorry,

but she had to change
her plans.

So she's bailing on me.

Let me guess. She went off
with the tennis instructor?

Where are they?

Aspen?

Palm beach?

Saint barts.

I'm sorry, Mr. Sebastian.

Would you like to come
eat at my house?

No. Thank you.

No, you go be
with your family.

I'm just gonna watch the game,
maybe order a pizza.

He breaks the tackle
inside the fourth,

grabbed from behind
by clayborn...

And brought down all...

Clearing the table?

My family must be worse
than I thought.

Mm-hmm.

Be careful with those.

Whoa. What's wrong?

I think I'm just sick of you

not being able
to stand up to your parents.

Where did that come from?

It was so pathetic,
the way you just nodded

and smiled about dartmouth.

Why can't you just say it?

"No, dad. I wanna go to N.Y.U.
And work in advertising."

You're not saying
you wanna be a serial killer.

What's the big deal?

It is a big deal to my dad.
He has his own goals for me,

and he doesn't care
what I really want.

Why are you trying to pick
a fight with me about this?

I don't know. At least
they have goals for you.

No one in my life seems to be
thinking about my future,

including me.

That joke about
following you to college.

Not a joke.

Oh. Really?

Yes, really.

How's that supposed to make me
feel that you laughed at me?

Mags, I laughed
because it seems crazy

that someone like you
would ever do something

like follow me.

Someone like me?

Yeah.
You're so sure of yourself,

and you're not afraid
to be exactly who you are,

unlike me, who just nods
and says "yes" to his dad.

You really mean it?

I want you to follow
your own dream.

Yeah.

Maggie had never
thought much about the future,

but maybe she needed to.

It was
an uncomfortable realization

that being with Walt
couldn't be her only goal.

Oh, wait. We need to add
a few more mini marshmallows.

There.
Looks just like my mom's.

Mission accomplished.
Sweet potatoes in the oven.

Check.

Right on schedule.

My perfect Thanksgiving
is really gonna happen.

Still trying
to pull off dinner?

Must be some kind
of masochist.

I did pull it off.

We're actually gonna have
a Thanksgiving

just like we had
with mom.

What's her problem?

I have no idea,

but she's acting worse
than usual today.

Did she just leave?

Uh-oh. Missing sister...
Not a perfect Thanksgiving.

She is not going
to do this,

not now, when everything's
finally coming together.

I could imagine all kinds
of scenarios

for how Dorrit
could ruin Thanksgiving.

But what I found
was completely unexpected.

What the hell
is wrong with you?

You're smoking pot
with dad right inside?

So?

So this is
our family Thanksgiving,

and all you're doing
is trying to ruin everything.

You tried to embarrass me
in front of George.

You won't help me
in the kitchen.

It's like you
wanna sabotage tonight.

You ruined those recipes and hid
the cookbooks, didn't you?

So what if I did?

What is it this time,
Dorrit?

Don't feel like you're
getting enough attention?

Well, you're about to get more
than you bargained for.

I'm telling dad.

Go ahead. I don't care.
I'm not the one

desperate for attention,
wearing mom's apron

and trying to pretend
to be her,

like you can just
take her place.

I'm not trying to pretend
anything, Dorrit.

I'm trying to honor
mom's memory

by making things
feel the same.

But they're not, and you
can't make them that way.

So why even try?

I finally realized why Dorrit
was so fixated on her goal

of ruining the day.

It had nothing to do
with torturing me.

Having Thanksgiving
without my mom

was torture for her.

Dorrit, open the door.

I'm not leaving
until you let me in.

Then you're gonna die
out there.

I smell pot.

No doy. That's 'cause
I'm smoking it.

Now leave me alone.

Dorrit, come on.

Right there,
hit at the line of scrimmage...

What was that?

And I-I think you gotta wonder
what was in the thinking there.

No, no, you're kidding me.

Well, I gotta tell you...

Hey, little sis,
you're back early.

Ran out of gin?
Yeah, I wish.

Brian, can I ask you something?

Did you always know
you wanted to be a cop?

No. I wanted
to be the lead singer

of bachman Turner overdrive,

but seemed like a long shot.

Dad's a cop. The money's good.
It's stable. Why?

You never thought
about going to college?

Who do you think we are,
the Rockefellers?

Joey got to go to college.
Joey's the smart one.

Yeah, golden boy. Its' so gross,
how dad's proud of him

for being a yuppie.

So is there any money
for me to go to college?

No.
Oh.

But maybe you could get
a scholarship.

What are you worried
about, anyway?

You're a girl.
You can just marry Walt.

Right.

Maggie had never even
thought of college

as a concrete goal,

but finding out that goal
was impossible

still came as a shock.

And we're looking to go
into the locker rooms...

At halftime, with the cowboys
leading the patriots...

Hello?

Oh. Hey, Donna.

No, my mom's not, uh, here
right now.

No, it's cool.

Yeah, I could probably come by.

Yep. Later.

Dorrit, come on.
Please?

Bite me, dweeb-azoid.

Carrie. I've been looking
everywhere for you.

Is everything all right?
I heard yelling and...

Is that pot?

Pot? Yelling? No, no.

Um... that's just the oregano...
In the stuffing.

And the, uh, yelling's
from... Dorrit's music.

She's into
some really loud punk.

But, no, not to worry.
Everything's fine here.

I hate this family!

Let's head downstairs.

So you and your sister
weren't fighting?

No. No, of course not. Why would
you think such a thing?

Well, holidays bring out
the worst in my family.

Somebody always explodes.

Well, everyone here
gets along just fine.

That's right.
Me, dad, Dorrit...

We're all just one big,
happy normal family.

Move along, folks.
Nothing to see.

No explosions here.

You and you...

Sorry, mouse.

Your dad just asked me
for ice

and referred to me
as the "oriental maid""

yeah, that sounds
like Harlan.

And you...

Oh, no.
Now what went wrong?

What didn't?

Burning.

That's not supposed to
be happening.

What do we do?

Why is there smoke?
What's going on?

I don't know.

Won't open.
What did you do?

What did you do?!

What did I do?
Everything, that's what.

Oriental maid begs to differ.

Someone needs to care enough
about this family

to keep us going.

Someone needs to make the Turkey
and the sweet potatoes,

and get it all done
at just the right time

so you can watch
your stupid football game.

I'm gonna lose it.

I think you kinda are.

You don't even have a clue

what's going on
in your own family.

I mean, Dorrit was up there,
and...

Ugh.

Dorrit and I are trying to deal
with mom not being here today,

and you didn't even notice,
and...

Now smoke is pouring out,
and my Turkey is ruined,

all because I just wanted
everyone to have

a perfect Thanksgiving.

Obviously, that's a joke,
because I'm not mom.

I'm your daughter,

and you're supposed
to be taking care of me.

Now this feels
like Thanksgiving.

The last thing
I'd planned for on Thanksgiving

was blowing up at my dad

or blowing up a Turkey.

But you know what they say
about the best-laid plans...

What a disaster.

They tend to go awry.

Let's look
on the bright side.

And what would that be,
mouse?

Humiliating myself
in front of my boyfriend,

not having any food
to eat,

or not having any power
until tomorrow

because all the fuses
are blown?

Take your pick.

Well... we still
have ambrosia salad,

and the firemen said
there's no major damage,

and George... has been "looking
for candle"" for 20 minutes.

He's probably avoiding me
until he can run

screaming back to the city
and never see me again.

I can think of a bright side.

Since the Turkey exploded,

no one had to taste
how bad it would have been.

Just a joke.

And thanks.

For not telling dad...
About the pot.

I'm gonna go help George
find those candles.

Sweetie, I wasn't trying
to replace mom.

I wanted us to have
a great day

because that's what
she would have wanted.

She loved Thanksgiving
so much.

You don't even know how much
Thanksgiving stressed her out,

do you? What are you talking about?
It was her favorite holiday.

Please. She hated doing
all that work

while dad sat around
watching football.

She played her music loud
so she could scream at him

without the entire family
hearing her.

When I heard you
from upstairs,

wigging out at the oven,

for a second,
I swore it was her.

Freaked me out.

Wow, Dorrit.

But then... it was kinda nice
to remember her.

I wanted to forget
the whole day.

That's why I hid the recipes
and got stoned.

It felt wrong to even try
if she can't be here.

To me it felt wrong
not to try.

Next year, I'll pull out
the giblets.

I always did that for mom.
I liked it.

You're sick, and next year?
Are you kidding me?

I'm never cooking again.

When I'm an adult,

I'm gonna use my oven
for storage or something.

Probably a good idea.

Sometimes darkness
is comforting.

In the darkness,

we can hide from
what we don't want to accept.

But sooner or later,
we have to face the light.

Jeez, what the hell are you
doing sitting here in the dark?

Look out. Drunk man,
open flame.

What was I thinking?

That... that I could just
watch the game

and let my teenage daughter
do all the work?

I'm the one that
should have been worrying

about how to make Thanksgiving
perfect, not Carrie.

I'm the one that's responsible
for keeping this family going.

Only me.

Only me. But what if
I can't do it?

And what if I can't
keep us together?

Patriots.

Maybe you should head back
into the city.

Yeah, that's probably
a good idea.

I'll let my driver know.

You're home early.

What happened?

Did the W.A.S.P.S find out
that you're catholic?

I'm really not in the mood.

Relax. It was a joke.

So what happened?

You are the last person
I wanna talk to about it.

Well... I do care
about you, Maggie.

Thanks.
If you mean it.

Oh.
Of course I do.

You know what? There is
one thing I wanna know, though.

Did any of
the stuffed shirts notice

that you're not wearing
any underwear

under that
prim little dress?

Who says I'm not wearing
any underwear?

There is only one way
to find out.

Wait.

What's the problem?

This is my problem.

I keep doing things
without thinking

how they're gonna affect
my future or my... boyfriend.

Maybe it's better
if you stop thinking.

I... I think
you should get out.

Maybe Maggie didn't have
any long-term goals.

But her immediate goal
was to respect herself.

Well, everything is
as it should be.

My dad's passed out
in the back of the town car.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Sorry I freaked out
and added to your list

of terrible thanksgivings.

Oh, Carrie, it's fine.

You weren't avoiding me?

You seem weirdly eager
to run off

and look for candles
in a house you barely know.

I was just trying
to give you space.

That's what my shrink says to do
when people get upset.

I was not avoiding you.

Even though I yelled
and broke the oven

and almost burned
the house down?

Carrie, on the silver scale
of insane holidays,

this is nothing.

Last year my family
got banned from le cirque

after kick threw
a Turkey leg at my dad.

She hit Liza Minnelli
instead.

That's pretty bad.

I feel like
such a failure.

I tried so hard for
this perfect family holiday

that no one even wanted.

Well, my family stopped
trying a long time ago,

and now we're not even
a family anymore.

So I didn't completely
blow my air of mystery for you?

Mystery's overrated.

Call you tomorrow.

Hey.

I saw the boyfriend.

He's cute.

You got room
for one more in here?

Come on in.

How was Walt's?

The food... inedible.
The mood... repressed.

How was here?

Mm,
definitely not repressed.

What's with the no lights?

Long story.

♪ For a little while
♪ little while

ah, Mrs. brewer's
kindergarten class, circa 1973.

I remember making one. I can't
believe you still have this.

Yeah. My mom saved
everything.

Just when I thought
this Thanksgiving

couldn't possibly hold
any more surprises...

There he was...

The last person
I expected to see,

the one thing I never
could have planned for.

♪ falling in love

I thought you were
gonna be with your mom.

Yeah, I thought so, too.

Saint barts with Lucas was
an offer she couldn't refuse.

I'm sorry. That sucks.

Oh, it's no big deal.

No, it does suck.
I know it's cheesy,

but I always really liked
Thanksgiving.

We used to go
to my cousin's house in Jersey,

play touch football,
eat too much.

I always liked Thanksgiving
with my cousins, too.

Is it crazy
that I sometimes think

the money ruined everything?

My mom stopped talking
to our brother,

so I never see that side
of the family anymore.

She got her new boobs
and nose,

and it seems like
a whole new brain.

It's like she doesn't care

about things like
Thanksgiving anymore.

But you do.

And that's great...
That you still care.

I was driving around,

just thinking...

And I realized you were
the person

I really wanted to see.
I knew I could talk to you,

and you'd get it.

Do you ever wish
you could go back

and change things?

Choices that you made.

Choices that maybe
were mistakes?

Sometimes.

Yeah?

Of course
there was a part of me

that did wish I could go back
and change things,

but that's not how life works.

But you can't go back.

Choices get made, and things
happen because of them.

Yeah, well...
I guess I should go.

You wanna come in?

You can stay and eat.
We have ambrosia salad.

I like ambrosia salad.

You sure
it wouldn't be weird?

I don't think so.

Yeah.
Maybe I should just go.

Wait.
Just give me a minute.

Um... I hope it's okay,
but his family isn't here.

It's okay. Go on in.

We got brie.

Uh... for you, sir.

A bottle of scotch.

Thank you.

It's exactly what
I didn't need.

Dad, before you say
anything,

I didn't plan for him
to come over.

But his mom left him
all alone,

and he doesn't have
anywhere else to go.

Well, no one should be alone
on Thanksgiving.

And if you say you want to
invite him in,

I trust that you have
a good reason.

You do?

You're a great kid,

who hasn't had much of a chance
to be a kid at all lately

because you've been trying
so hard

to take care of this family.

I don't want Thanksgiving
to be stressful for you

in the way that it was
for your mom.

Why does everyone know that mom
hated Thanksgiving but me?

All this time,
I thought she loved it.

She did love it.

I mean, yeah,
it made her crazy,

but sometimes the things
that we love the most

make us the craziest
because we love them.

Well, cooking made me crazy,

but definitely not because
I love it.

Huh. Go on inside.

I am officially taking over
food preparation.

I hope you are in the mood
for my frito bean dip.

Sounds like a great new
Thanksgiving tradition.

♪ I feel my heart
start to trembling ♪

Ending the day with Sebastian
was never a part of my plan.

Neither was eating
fritos and bean dip for dinner.

But that night,
they tasted better than Turkey.

♪ mellow as the month of may

♪ oh, darling

here it is.
The famous Bradshaw bean dip.

That's the thing about goals.

When we focus too much
on our endgame,

we can miss the fun
of the journey

we can miss the detour
that would take us

somewhere even more rewarding.

Oh. Thanks, honey.

Touchdown new England!

Yes!
Yeah!

You a patriots fan?

I just hate the cowboys.

Me, too.

We like to set goals

because they give us
a feeling of control.

But control is an illusion,

because sometimes
the earth moves,

and we have to deal
with wherever we end up,

whether it's on solid ground
or not.

♪ ground

Hey! Who threw out
my rainbow gloves?