The Goldbergs (2013–…): Season 4, Episode 4 - Crazy Calls - full transcript

Erica and Adam deal with their relationship issues, while Beverly deals with Murray's stubbornness.

Back in the '80s, the most
terrifying place in existence

for any freshman was
the high-school cafeteria.

The table you chose
defined how you were labeled

and where you ranked
in the social hierarchy.

I don't see any seats
together. What should we do?

Every man for himself.

If anyone asks,
I'm a skate rat now.

Ooh. Classic Dave Kim.

- Figuring out where to sit, eh?
- Yeah.

Ah, that's a sad dance
that I know all too well.

But lucky for you, I'm
a guidance counselor,

and I can guide you
to lunchroom success.

Um, maybe I could
sit with the preppies?

Come on, man. You want to walk
around in boat shoes with no socks?

You want to invite that
kind of fungus in your life?

Okay. How about the band geeks?

Do you even play an
instrument? No, you don't.

So what makes you think
they're gonna just welcome you

into their unique
and beautiful fold?

Uh, maybe the goth kids?

The goths? They
would eat you alive.

Seriously, I heard
they eat cats and stuff.

Come on. I gotta sit
somewhere. Time's running out.

Agreed. And you're starting
to look real desperate,

and standing next to
me is not helping you.

- Please, just go!
- Mmm, okay.

I was officially tableless.

If I didn't find a place to sit,
I'd be a social pariah forever.

Hey, Goldberg, come sit with us.

Just then the
sportos beckon me to

sit at the coolest
table in the cafeteria.

It was either a miracle
or a huge mistake.

Grab a chair, little man.

And the plate of waffle
fries is for sharing.

No offense to myself, but I
think you got the wrong guy.

No way.

We all think it's awesome that you're
super into movies, robots, He-Man.

Oh, so you're also a He-head?

That's the name I've given
to die-hard He-Man fans.

That's cool.

It's also cool that, like, the top
of your head smells so good.

Odd observation from that
distance, but I do condition every day.

- It shows, bro.
- Nice.

Such luster.

Ah, balls. She got to you.

No, man. We like you for you.

God, my own mom
has to find me a table?

That's where my life is?

She gave us free
waffle fries. You get it.

She also yelled at us and said
that in time, we'd come to love you.

Mom, I don't want
to hear any more!

- Adam.
- Mom, you ruined my life!

Schmoo, you just seemed so
helpless without a place to sit.

It's my job, as
your mama, to help.

Help? That's the whole problem.

If you're gonna
sub at my school,

you have to start respecting
my boundaries. Understand?

Boundaries. Totally get it.

- Do you?
- Boundaries.

'Cause nothing up to this point
has led me to believe you do.

I get boundaries, Adam.

You don't want me to intervene
or talk to you while you're at school.


Until I see you struggle, and
then I come in strong and hard.

- Nope. Lost it.
- Okay, okay.

We'll limit our interactions
to hallway snuggies...

- Mom!
- And brief Eskimo kisses.


Grr. Fine. I'll leave your
little kitten nose alone.

- Thank you.
- But at home, all bets are off.


I'm twisted up inside

But nonetheless I
feel the need to say

I don't know the future

But the past keeps
getting clearer every day

It was October 12th,

and my dad was coming
home to a familiar frustration.

Did anyone call while I was out?

Yeah. I wrote it
down on the pad.

Flurt Burtman? Who
the hell's Flurt Burtman?

I don't know. He was talking
all fast, 'cause it was important.

- Anyway, call him back.
- Call who back?

If it's important, I need
to know the actual name.

I don't know. I'm not invested,
because it wasn't for me.

What the hell's this
message? "PP"?

Barry wrote that.

My guess is he either drank too
much Mr. Pibb or Pop Pop called?

Wait. My dad called?

He never uses the phone.

He always thinks the
Cubans are listening.

Oh, he calls all the time.

He just says, "Tell the
moron I'll call him back."

Oh, so this is me giving you
those dozens of messages.

You know what? This
madness stops now.

My dad's solution...

The answering machine.

Before voicemail,
this bulky thing

was the best technology
the '80s had to offer.

Problem solved.

Holy crap. You got us
an answering machine?

Erica, come quick!

Dad did something
that doesn't suck!

Oh, my God! An
answering machine?

Stop, you morons.
It's not for you.

It's so I can finally
get my messages.

I'm doing the outgoing message.

No way. I've been planning
for this my whole life.

I don't want no jibber-jabber,
foo'. Wait for the beep.

Stay in school, and
leave a message.

- This is Mr. T, by the way.
- Get out of here.

Say hello to my little message.

This is Scarface,
by the way. Cocaine.

I'm leaving the message.

There's a simple one right
here in the instruction book.

- No. It can't be you.
- No. Don't read the suggested script.

That's the worst option of all.

Hello. You've reached
the answering machine

of the Goldberg residence.

We either are
unavailable or unable

to get to the phone
at the moment,

but we would appreciate it

if you would leave your name,
telephone number, business,

the person you're calling
for, and the time you called

after you hear the beep.

And we will be sure to
get back to you at our...

Come on. Everyone
knows how to do it.

I can't take it. It's so
long and explain-y.

Shut up!

Earliest convenience.

Yeah. I'm good with that.

As my dad got the win,

I was still a lone
loser without a table.

My only choice was to accept my
fate of eating alone under the bleachers.

That is, until I stumbled
upon my salvation.

Holy motherboard.

The high-school computer lab.

It had six
state-of-the-art Apple IIs,

each with double floppy
drives and a dot-matrix printer

that could ink a whopping
six lines per minute

on that weird paper
where you rip off the sides.

- We're allowed to be in here.
- Okay.

Mr. Glascott says we can
stay the whole lunch period

as long as we don't make crumbs,

which is why I bring a
thermos of soup every day.


Whoa. Is that Prince of Persia?

We've got it all... Castle
Wolfenstein, Lode Runner,

Choplifter, and Ultima,
parts I, Il, Ill, and IV.

You have part IV? That's
the ultimate "Ultima"!

- You know your stuff.
- I'm Adam, by the way.

I'm Mike Levy. This
is also Mike Levy.

You guys have the same name?

Yeah, but Mike Z. is painfully
shy, so it's not much of an issue.

I feel your pain. There's a senior
also named Adam Goldberg.

- He's not happy to have me around.
- Right on.

I'm actually pretty
good at Oregon Trail.

Even though I immediately
died of dysentery,

my mom was thrilled I found
a party to hitch my wagon to.

Meanwhile, Erica and Barry
were blazing their own trail.

Guess what we have.

The answers to all our
answering-machine problems...

Crazy Calls.

I don't know what it
is, but it sounds wild.

It's a tape of professionally
recorded outgoing messages

that represent
many musical styles.

And it's advertised on
TV, so you know it's good.

Prepare yourselves.

I'm glad you called,
but I'm not home

But I'll be back before too long

Wait for the beep

You gotta leave your name
You gotta leave your number

Wait for the beep

Al, don't join into
their nonsense.

Listen, we have no
answering-machine problems.

My message stays.

Please, just listen to reason.

The message you recorded is
so bad, our friends refuse to call.

The light is blinking. I must
be doing something right.

Hello. Is this Murray?

What? You got a robit
taking your messages now?

Ooh, my highfalutin' son
thinks he's better than everyone.

I think it's Pop Pop.

Well, you're not.
You're a thief.

Don't think I forgot about
that $17 you stole from me.

Still with the $17.
I can't take this!

My electric bill was
the same every month,

but all of a sudden,
it's $17 more.

Yeah, well, you do
the math, genius.

He's taking up the whole tape!

I know you were upset
about your wedding toast,

but I really thought you
preferred the company of men.

You were an ugly
baby. There, I said it.

That's it!

Well, at least he's
talking to you. That's new.

Oh, we will talk but good.

Just he and I, man to man.

Ah, you. What do you want?

My dad paid me $20
to set this up for you

so you won't miss
his phone call.

Ah, so he'll pony up 20 bucks
for you, and still I'm out my $17.

I don't know, man. Do you
want the machine or not?

All right. I'll take the robit,

but only because
I like free stuff.

As Erica did my
dad's dirty work,

me and my new pals were
having some good, clean fun.

And that, my friend,
is how you use Basic

to program a real-life booby.


So lifelike.

Scram! Me and this
lady are gonna study

for health class,
with our faces.

No way. We're allowed
to be here at lunch.

Mr. Glascott says.

You're a ballsy little
nerd, aren't you?

Tell you what, I'm
gonna let it slide,

but only because there's a broom
closet for us right down the hall.

Later, nerd losers.

Look at them with
their nerd thermoses.

Like they're nerd
construction workers.

Excuse me. What did you just
say about those nerd losers?

Uh, that they should drink
out of their nerd thermoses?

Glascott's office now!

So, what kind of punishment
are we talking about here?

Suspension, expulsion,
solitary confinement?

Do we do that? 'Cause
that's what I want.

Yeah. You two can
go back to class,

and try not to be so accurate
with your nerd insults next time.

Oh, and stay out
of that broom closet.

Yeah, that's right. Old
Glascott knows what's up.

Why did you let them go?
They called my schmoo a nerd.

That's not on them. That's more
on your schmoo for being one.

Hey, only I get to call
my schmoo a schmoo.

The point is, Adam and
his gang of computer dorks

don't even eat in the lunchroom.

That means they're not
even on the social ladder.

You've got to do
something about this.

If you don't help Adam, then
you have failed as a mother.

But that is my
greatest nightmare.

You gotta help me. Please.

I told him I'd respect
his boundaries.

Guide me. It's what
you're so good at.

I know you're
playing me for a fool,

but this fool has
low-grade depression.

So... I'll bite.

While my mom was plotting
to improve my social future,

Pop Pop was getting
an earful about his past.

You want to know why I
slept with the lights on?

'Cause you took me to
see Psycho when I was nine!

You owe me $17 for a lifetime of
showering with the curtain wide open!

Oh, you want a message?
I'll give you a message.

I'll give you a big, fat
message in your big, fat ears.

You think someone's gonna
come after you in the shower?

Believe me, you have
nothing anyone wants to see.

Fine. You want
to talk, let's talk!

And, so began the great
Goldberg answering machine war

of 1980-something.

And you were so God-awful

that none of my friends ever
wanted to come over and play with me!

Friends? I had to pay the boy
next door to be friends with you.

So, you owe me a
nickel for that, too.

What began as one
simple call from Pop Pop

quickly spiraled into an endless
volley of very hurtful rants.

There. I said it.

You're a crappy dad and
even a worse businessman!

You think I'm implying
you're a disappointment?

No, no. I'm saying it loud
and clear. Disappointment.

Again with the farkakte machine.

I know. He's been
tying up the phone line,

and I can't get any
of my messages.

What? No.

I meant your dad and
Pop Pop might be doing

serious damage
to their relationship.

Oh, please. They're fine.

You are a trash heap
of a human being,

and even a worse father!

He meant that with love, and...

Oh, crap. This went bad fast.

It had been a week

since the great Goldberg
answering machine war,

and my sister was tired of not
getting any of her messages.

Tape full.

My God! This thing between
Dad and Pop Pop has got to stop.

Messages deleted.

Acting on her
standard selfishness,

Erica decided to erase
Pop Pop and end the war.

Hey, I'm home. Nobody bother me.

I need to check my messages.

No new messages.

Hey, anyone call for me?

You know, like a
telemarketer, wrong number,

angry grandfather?

- Nope.
- Okay.

- Good. Very good.
- Yep.

Guess there's no reason to
tie up the phone lines now.


I mean, no call from Pop Pop means
you don't have to pay him the $17.

- Yep, yep, yep.
- You won.

- I won.
- Yep.

- Big winner.
- You won.

Murray wins.

And that is how you end
an answering machine war.

Well, I guess it is best
for your father's sanity.

Sure, sure, that thing.

Also, I finally get to
use the phone again.

Hey! What do you think
you're doing, you moron?

Making a phone call.

Yeah. The machine
is expecting a call.

No one goes near this
or stands in this area. Out!

Okay. Why the hell
isn't he taking the win?

It's like he wants Pop
Pop to call and rant at him.

Crazy as it sounds,

I think your dad actually liked

chatting with Pop Pop
through the machine.

And now that it's done...

He's sad.

That's nuts. Dad
doesn't get sad.

No new messages.

No new messages.

My God. He's sad.

No new messages.

Fine. You made your point.

We'll get them together
and end this, once and for all.

No new messages.

My sister was
determined to end the war.

Meanwhile, my mom set off a nuclear
bomb of embarrassment at school.

There's the guy. Watch out.

It's the Fighting
Quaker of the Month.

How is this a thing?
What's happening to me?

What is happening is
you're being celebrated

for your popularity amongst
your fellow students.

And one of the delightful spoils

is that you get to sit
at this special table.

It's for cool kids only.

First of all, I like eating
in the computer lab.

Also, my mom clearly
put you up to this.

Popular and funny.

Whatever. I'm going
back to my computer game.

And I'm taking this
disaster with me.

Where is he going? Why isn't
he sitting at his cool new table?

Did you screw the
pooch on this one, Andre?

No. Probably.

Look. If the kid
won't accept help

from his super-cool
guidance counselor,

then he's just a lost cause.

But my mom was
never one to give up.

When it came to her little schmoo,
she always had the drive to succeed.

Oh, Beverly, you're so "Krafty".

Say cheese.

I think we found the problem.

Looks like someone wanted
a little cheese with their Apple.

- Nailed it.
- Oh, come on.

The sign clearly
states no food in here.

You kids know the rules. You
are banned for lunch hours.

But where are we supposed to go?

In the cafeteria
with the normals.

Yeah, I said it.

Come on. I'll cut you a check.

No. You can't send
us back in the wild.

We've been domesticated.

Guys, guys, guys.

I think the silver lining
here is that Mike Z. talked.

You shut it. Shut it, Goldberg.

You know, it's kind of funny
how the drive got cheesed

just after you joined our crew.

Mike, Mike, it's me.

I wouldn't cheese the drive.

- Well, me and Mike Levy are kosher.
- Way of life.

And Rog, Mink, and
Alvie are lactose-intolerant.

Come at me.

But every day,

you eat the same turkey
and cheese sandwich.

Get some.

That is the lunch my
mom always makes me.


Boy, Al, we are lucky
to get these seats.

Yep. Pure luck.

Oh, look who it is!

Hey, is that Pops
and Father over there?

Well, this is a very
unplanned coincidence.

- Damn it.
- Damn it.

Hey, now you two can talk
in person like normal humans.

Pop Pop, let's trade seats.

That is a crap trade,
and you know it.

Mur, sit here.

I'm fine here on
the end. Thank you.

Hey, Bar, tell Murray to
flag down the soft pretzel guy.

Erica, tell Pops to tell Dad,
Pop Pop wants a pretzel.

Um, Pops, tell Dad that
Pop Pop would appreciate it

if he bought him a pretzel.

Murray, buy your dad a pretzel.

Tell him to buy his
own damn pretzel!

No go, Erica.

Barry, Dad kindly declines
the pretzel purchasing.

Pop Pop, Dad said to
get bent and buy your own.

I wasn't asking
for a free pretzel.

Tell that ungrateful
bastard he still owes me $17.

He can take it out of my tab.

Erica, Pop Pop said Dad's a
bastard, and he wants a Tab.

Pops, Pop Pop wants a diet soda.

Murray, will you buy
your dad a diet soda?

At the very least,
it'll calm him down.


Excuse me. Let me get a pretzel
and a Tab for the old guy on the end.

- Here.
- Here.

- Here.
- Here.

What the is this? I
don't drink ladies' soda.

Where's my pretzel?

It appears Dad is eating it.

You give your father a message,

and you tell him
every single word.

Yep. Dad and Pop
Pop were finally talking.

Only problem, they
were using their family

as their telephone and
answering machine.

That's right.

This woman cheesed
the drive, not us. Her.

Whoa, that's a harsh accusation

against a faculty member
who's here one day a week.

It's true. She cheesed it. It's
her signature culinary move.

Beverly, do you
have anything to say?

I vehemently deny
cheesing the drive

under cover of darkness
when no one was here.

She said "vehemently." That's a
big word. So I have to believe her.

Fine. If she's not
gonna own up to it,

then I'd like to log an official
complaint against this teacher, sir.

You mean your mom?

She's been harassing
one of the students.

- You?
- I don't see you writing.

- Don't write it down, Andre.
- Write it down, Andre.

Report the snuggies and the
kisses, both butterfly and Eskimo.

You Eskimo'd on school grounds?

Ooh! I gotta write
it. I just have to.

School grounds or
not, I am your mother,

and I have the legal
right to snug, squish,

and kiss you like we're in
an igloo as much as I want.

According to the school
handbook, you really don't.

Oh, so it's almost as
if there are boundaries

that no one can cross.

Check and mate. He's
got you there, lady.

Adam, I just wanted you...

Bup, bup, bup! Boundaries!

- You expect me to just sit...
- Bup, bup! Boundaries!

- I just want. Just give...
- Bup, bup, bup, bup!

- I want... But I...
- Bup, bup, bup! Bup!

I really think he wants
you to respect his...

I know what he wants.

You know, I was actually
happy in the computer lab.

Those guys accepted me.

You always say you want to help,

but you just end up
ruining everything.

Realizing she'd made
a mess of my social life,

my mom knew it was
time to clean things up.

Not so fast, Atkins. This
is a random locker search.

If it's random, why are
you targeting the guy

most likely to have a
doobie hidden in his locker

behind a Trapper
Keeper? Oh, nards.

Principal's office. Now.

This is so unfair.

It is, which is why I'll
offer you a plea bargain.

You take the fall for
cheesing the drive,

and this all goes away.

I don't know what you just said,

and maybe that's 'cause I've
been hitting my Trapper Keeper,

but I'm in.

You also have to stop
making fun of my son.

Done. Who is he?

- Adam.
- Adam who?

You know, the freshman.
You call him a nerd loser.

That narrows it down
to, like, 40 dudes.

The one with the
dimples and the glasses.

He looks like a model.
He plays with computers.

Oh-oh! That nerd loser.
Sure. I'll leave him alone.

Hey, little bro.
How's it hangin'?

That's not my son.

Beat it, dork! Scram!

Ugh! I can't believe my
arm just touched a nerd.

Getting rid of the
answering machine?

Stupid piece of crap.
Caused nothing but problems.

Don't throw it away.

Pop Pop did call back,
but I erased the tape.

Why would you do that?

Because you were hogging
the phone, talking to your dad,

but not actually talking.

And then I realized not
talking is how you talk.

Look. That's why we
ambushed you at the game.

I thought maybe you guys
would like to talk for real,

but if you like your machine
better, then I won't stop you.

You know me and my dad.
We never were big talkers.


Maybe it's time to try.

- You.
- Yeah. I was gonna call,

but then I thought, I don't
know, I'd just come over.

What for?

I brought you $17
worth of soft pretzels.

I wanted the money in cash.

But the game's on.

You could come
in and, uh, watch.

Sure. I got nothing
better to do.

Lucky for you boys, the
real culprit stepped forward.

The lab's all yours
again. Don't make crumbs.

Hey, sorry we blamed
you for cheesing the drive.

It's cool. I'm just glad
we're back where we belong.

From that point on, I
couldn't wait for lunchtime.

And it was all thanks to someone
who cared a little too much.

Hey. Heard the good news.

Stop. I know you
fixed this for me,

but wouldn't you say framing a kid
kind of crosses every boundary ever?

God, you're right.

I am horrible with
boundaries, boopie.

But I'll try to do better.

Well, I'll let this
one time slide.

But, to be clear, the "no
snuggling" policy still stands.

In that moment, I
realized that I had a mother

who would cross
any boundary for me.

Starting now.

And that made me the
luckiest kid in the world.

There's too much
salt on the pretzels.

What are you talking
about? Salt makes the pretzel.

Salt makes you die.

'Cause, at the end of the
day, walls need to be broken,

and boundaries
need to be crossed...


In order for love
to get through.

Hi. You've reached the
Goldbergs. Leave a message.

Hey. I got a flat
tire, and I need...

Ha. It's not the answering
machine, you dumb idiot.

It's actually me. Barry.

It's me. I need Dad...

Gotcha again. It is
the answering machine.

Leave a message.

Damn it! I've got a flat
tire, and I need Dad...

No, it's actually
me, Barry, for real.

So, what's the deal?

Barry, I will kill you!
Put Dad on the...

But, seriously, leave
a message at the beep.

Dad, I've got a flat...

Oh, my God. You're
a dumb sack of crap.