The Kids Are Alright (2018–…): Season 1, Episode 21 - Episode #1.21 - full transcript

Peg, it happened again. We got a winner.

The post office forgot
to cancel another stamp?

Eight cents more toward
our cemetery plot.

Oh, take me there now.

I'm gonna start the tea kettle
and steam it off.

Oh, good, you're home.

I thought you might be out of town

because your lawn
looks so poorly maintained.

Oh, Helen. Is this an intentional visit?

'Cause I know it's not uncommon
for people your age

to get lost wandering
around the neighborhood.



Let me have one of my boys
guide you home, hmm?

You know, as scary
as this part of town is,

that won't be necessary.

- Hi, Helen.
- Hello, Michael.

Neither of my parents
much liked Helen Portollo.

She was my mom's best friend.

Have you seen the article

about my husband in the Press-Tribune?

I wonder if we could have your copy

when you're done clipping coupons

and swatting your bugs.

- Oh, Steven looks so distinguished.
- Yeah.

And they saved ink by not
having to print hair.

Something funny on the news.



He got an award at work...

Salesman of the Month.

They were gonna give it to him in June,

but we held out for one
with thirty-one days.

It's right here next to the article

- about Pioneer Days festivities.
- Mm.

Of course, Mike and I were invited

to the banquet again this year.

We're so looking forward to going.

Ugh, that's this weekend?

Last year, they served
chicken stuffed with crab.

Oh, that's what that was.

Thought the chicken had gone bad.

Steven and I will be there as well,

- at the Mayor's table.
- Hm.

Come by and say hi, although
it might be roped off.

I'll be sure to wave.

Well, I won't blame you if you forget.

I know how you get with an open bar.

Well, anyway, so great
to see you, Helen.

You too, Peggy.

Thank you.

Criminy.

I mean, if Steven's such a bigwig,

you'd think he could afford
to buy his own newspapers.

- And a big wig.
- They give out meaningless prizes

at my work all the time.

I'm getting one on Wednesday.

You're getting an award,
and you didn't say anything

while Helen was here bumpin'
her gums about Steven?

I don't get all giddy
over some dumb trophy.

Not even a trophy... They gave
him a paper certificate.

I mean, babies get those
just for being born.

The only certificate a real man wants

is a weekly paycheck.

- Oh, Mike.
- Ah!

The siren song of a free stamp.

You could've bragged
to your friend Helen

that I just earned my Scout badge

for making fire without a match.

They give badges now
for doing easy things

- the hardest way possible?
- I also earned

my climbing-up-a-ladder-
with-no-hands badge.

Oh, well, now, that actually
sounds like a useful skill.

Tell me all about it.

Well, the angle of the ladder
is critical...

You...

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You going on rides at the fair tonight?

I'll cut you a deal on the tickets.

Where'd you get those?

Carnival supply company.

I can also fix you up
with a four-foot Tweety Bird

and all the baggies
full of goldfish you want.

Where's the fun in a carnival prize

if you don't win it?

I've been practicing
that milk-bottle toss all year.

I'm gonna win a visor,
which is basically

the coolest parts of a hat.

You know what's fun for me?

Not having fun.

Self-denial... That is the real fun.

- Plus it costs nothing.
- And it's not fun.

I'm gonna do my magic act
at the carnival.

Having seen your act,
your most impressive trick

was getting hired.

I haven't sealed the deal,
but I already rented a tuxedo

- so I know it's gonna happen.
- A lot of guys go to prom

with that same naive optimism.

They do magic at the prom?

Oh, I can't wait for high school.

Yeah, let's just jump ahead

and say there was no magic
at any of my proms.

Although one year my date did disappear.

If you want this gig,
you'll need a manager... me.

Why should clean-shaven P.T. Barnum

get all the credit when the
bearded lady has all the talent?

You're kind of arguing
against the need for a manager,

- but I'm in!
- I love Pioneer Days.

I wish I was a pioneer.

Oh, Pat. You would've died in childbirth

and probably taken me with you.

- I'm sorry, Mommy.
- Me too.

We could be in Heaven right now
instead of eating this garbage.

And I can say that 'cause I made it.

Ah, everything looks delicious, Peg.

You see a spread like this,
you appreciate

the sacrifices made
by our pioneer forefathers.

And the sacrifices they forced
the Native Americans to make.

Everyone had a role to play.

Native peoples were living in this area

for 5,000 years with
a peaceful, communal culture.

Exactly, communism,

and we brought them
the American way of life,

plus the religious freedom

to pursue any form of Christianity.

They had their own spiritual practices.

Yeah, well, whoever they were
praying to, it didn't work.

Lawrence does make a good case.

Maybe we should boycott
this pioneer banquet

out of respect to the Native
Americans and their gibberish.

Nice try.

We're going, and we're gonna shine.

I just found out that Helen and Steven

are not only at the Mayor's table,

they are seated right next
to the guest of honor,

Dan Blocker from "Bonanza."

Can you slip him
my head shot and résumé?

I just need to add "bronco
busting" to my special skills.

It's that newspaper article, Mike.

If you were more willing
to toot your own horn,

we'd be up there with Hoss
instead of Helen and Steven.

I would very much enjoy picking
Hoss Cartwright's brain...

discussing ranching conditions
on the Ponderosa.

But spending an awkward meal
with some Hollywood dandy?

No, thank you.

The name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Pioneer Days wasn't just

an annual banquet my father dreaded.

It was a week-long celebration
of the frontier settlers

whose perseverance, sacrifice,

and rumored cannibalism
founded our town.

Whoa, look at her!

In a more civilized time,

she would've been stoned
by the town elders.

How does any of this gaudy
hoopla honor the pioneers?

Are you kidding?
My friend Dino got arrested here

last night by a real-live
deputy sheriff.

In memory of the pioneers,
I'm gonna win a hat

that keeps the sun out of my eyes

and still lets me tan my scalp.

A quarter gets you one toss.
Three tosses for a dollar.

- That's a deal!
- No, it's not.

It's actually a rip-off!

I'm only gonna need one.

Thank you.

Let's go.

This whole event is
a festival of duplicity.

I know. Give me the three-ball
deal my brother talked me out of.

- Can I throw two balls at once?
- Suit yourself.

Fifty cents, four-bits,

- Ah! So much harder.
- ...one shiny half-dollar...

...to see freaks and psychos

and a collection of things in jars

that you'll wish were in cans!

And, for an extra quarter,

you can feed shrimp
to anything with a mouth!

Excuse me, sir.

We have an act here
you may be interested in.

Two arms, two legs, and a head.

Unless he's hiding a tail under there,

nobody's paying to see that.

They might pay to see... this!

And it's not even that cold.

He's got a solid
five minutes of material

he can easily stretch into an hour.

Kids, these days,
I can't swing a dead dwarf

without hitting a magician.

In fact, I'm not even allowed
to swing a dead dwarf anymore.

Thanks, Nixon.

Offer the man a bite of your drumstick.

Sorry, kid.

I only showcase

the kind of human monsters
that give people nightmares.

Like that bendy little freak.

Well, you're in luck.

I also represent him.

Ooh.

What about me?

I feel like I've taken you
as far as I can.

Let's go to my tent
and talk some business.

Unlike Helen's husband,
my dad tried to keep

a low profile at his work.

He didn't go in
for a lot of showing off...

...which Dad saw

as a good way to lose a limb

or, worse, the respect of his coworkers.

Honey, I specifically asked for

a banana in my lunch today,

and I can't find it anywhere!

Good afternoon, feel free
to keep eating your lunches.

I already had mine...

- fish.
- Mm.

Now, to this month's productivity award.

Uh, I'll call you back.

Well, it seems we have
a delightful surprise

which, unfortunately, cannot be avoided.

We have guests for today's award.

Mike Cleary,

apparently you have a family,

and they are here.

Surprise!

- What is this?
- Well, I rallied all the boys

to show how proud they are of their dad.

Since when do I care what they think?

Congratulations, Dad.

I'll need those back.

Honey, I told you,
this award was nothing.

Well, I think that's
for the newspaper to decide.

Right? Yeah, we're gonna
do a quick photo.

Come on. Let's all line up.

Just let me get his name on the plaque

and peel off last month's winner.

How long is this going to take?

My client's due back at the side show.

- I'm a curiosity.
- Oh.

This is just you showboating for Helen

- and her stupid, bald husband.
- Oh, poppycock.

Make sure you get the whole family

and all of Mike's hair in the shot.

Stand up straight.

Stand up straight.

I don't want to accidentally
sew your hump into my dress.

I am happy to contribute
in any small way

to you dazzling at that banquet.

Peg?

- In here!
- In here!

That stunt today was embarrassing.

A man simply doing his job
does not belong in the newspaper

unless that job is president

or the Boston Strangler.

Quiet dignity.

That's what makes the man.

Ouch!

You accidentally stabbed me.

Yeah, accidentally.

Look, Mike, what's done is done.

But according to William,

your picture's on the front page.

Oh, no, you're bleeding.

Take off my dress before you ruin it.

Why are we competing
with Helen and Steven?

I have no interest in trying
to be some fancy big shot

hobnobbing with glitterati like Hoss.

I'm not gonna apologize
for being proud of my husband

or the hard work he does
being better than Steven.

The dogs are fiery out there today.

Let's see the damage.

Heavens to Murgatroyd.

_

This is a hair better
than Steven's picture.

Let me just say
what everyone's thinking...

I look great in evening-wear.

From the mysterious depths
of the Marianas Trench

and brought here in chains
at no small expense,

I offer you...

The Crab Boy!

I pinch people and I'm crabby!

I hear fancy seafood restaurants

have offered millions for him.

Does it bother anybody else

that Crab Boy is wearing
a lobster costume?

Oh. The lobster's the king of the crabs.

The king crab is the king of the crabs.

Well, keep it to yourself,
Jerk Cousteau.

- Fear me!
- Watch out!

Those snapping claws are razor sharp!

Back! Back into your tank, Crab Boy!

Just a taste of the gruesome wonders

awaiting you inside the tent.

I'll admit it.

You've sucked me in.

I'd like to feed him
some shrimp, please.

This undermines the dignity
of the role I play

contributing to our nation's defenses.

The only indignity here is them
giving you all the credit...

as if these kids fed off of
your insides for nine months.

Ten and a half in Frank's case.

The guys at work are gonna
have all kinds of smarmy fun.

"Eight kids. Mr. Productivity."

And I sure don't see us going
to that Pioneer dinner now...

everyone staring at me

like I'm one of those freaks
in a carnival sideshow.

By the way, I hear they have
an excellent Crab Boy.

Michael Cleary, I will not
let you use this

as an excuse to not go to that banquet,

like two years ago, when you
suddenly came down with polio.

My foot fell asleep.
It was an honest mistake.

So you're getting
a little unwanted attention...

boo-hoo... it'll pass.

This article might actually
do you some good at work.

Squeaky wheel gets the grease.

No, the squeaky wheel gets replaced!

That's just basic wheel maintenance.

Dad! Dad, get in here! Now!

If he asks me to pick a card,
honest to God,

I'm going to prison tonight.

...through the newspapers and, well,

it's an article about a local man

who works at Logan Aerospace

right here in beautiful
downtown Burbank.

Holy moly.

I know! It's my first
appearance on "Carson"!

I just wish the other guests
were stronger.

Here he is, Mr. Mike Cleary,
with his eight children,

who was named "Mr. Productivity."

I should say so.

And it says he's a machinist.

One could say he's also a machine.

Oh.

"It'll pass," Peg?

- I'm a laughingstock!
- Oh, come on.

I hear his wife also won a prize...

"Mrs. Re-Productivity."

Thank you, Johnny.

Finally, Mom gets a crumb.

Mike Cleary, please
report to Mr. Crane's office.

You'll be alright, Cleary.
Just don't get

Mr. Crane pregnant.

Mr. Crane, I want to apologize

for the embarrassment
I've caused the company.

Believe me, having eight children

was entirely unintentional.

No need, Cleary.
I didn't see the Carson program,

but people who enjoy humor
told me it was humorous.

You're not angry?

On the contrary, we're always
looking to put a human face

on what we do here to balance
out the menacing shark faces

we sometimes put on the missiles.

I should apologize to you.

After all these years, I didn't
even know you had children.

In fairness, when I'm here,

I'm trying my best to forget them.

Considering the comedically
large size of your family,

I've decided to give you
a raise, effective immediately.

I thought there was a wage freeze.

That's just something companies say.

I'll eliminate the raises
for the unmarried guys

and for men with three to four kids.

Mr. Crane, I can't thank you enough.

The amount you just did
was entirely adequate.

Ta-da!

What's with the lavish breakfast spread?

The refrigerator broken again?

Please don't make me eat
another tub of margarine.

We're celebrating.

Sausage, bacon, ham.
That's a party in my book.

- For everyone except the pig.
- How about these cute, little eggs

Pat brought home from the park?

I found a nest.

Congratulations on your raise, Dad.

Well, credit where credit's due.

It's thanks to your mother.

Your father's being too humble.

Although in this case, he's right.

You boys need to learn
there is no sin in pride.

Actually, it's one of
the Seven Deadly ones,

right there between sloth and gluttony.

Fine, it's a sin.

But it's a necessary one

if you want to go places in life.

Do not be shy
about tooting your own horn.

Okay. Well, I just taught myself

- a very difficult magic trick...
- Mom talking.

Anyway, I'm done.

Well, however my horn got tooted,

you kids showing up paid off.

Mr. Crane saw this brood
and gave me a raise.

So, at your job, people get paid more

if they have more children?

Well, a breadwinner
with responsibilities

naturally gets a bit more than
some footloose single guy.

Yeah, or some gal
just working for pin money

till she lands a husband.

I'm gonna have a hundred kids

so I can be a millionaire!

Making babies instead of working hard?

- I could get into that.
- Nobody said I don't work hard.

You said it yourself.
We got you this raise.

Now, back to this trick I learned...

Nobody got me anything
that I didn't 100% deserve.

- Well, in my opinion...
- Oh, here we go.

...you absolutely deserve the raise.

Oh.

Thank you, son.

Don't fall for it, Mike.
He's gonna keep talking.

The fact that Dad has so many
kids should be a factor.

His boss obviously believes
in needs-based compensation.

That's it exactly.
Listen to your brother.

"From each according to his ability,

to each according to his needs."

- Well said.
- Well, I can't take credit.

That's Karl Marx.

Wait. What?

I tried to warn you, Mike.

So you're saying somehow
my raise is Marxism?

It's a good thing. It's compassion.

Crane isn't just treating you
like a cog in a machine.

He doesn't want your family to suffer.

Compassion?

I don't need Crane sticking
his compassion in my business.

This family will suffer
exactly as much as I want us to.

- And more if the Church requires it.
- Congratulations, Lawrence.

You've taken something
beautiful and American

like more money and ruined it

with compassion and Karl Marx!

The celebration's over.

You're not really upset, right?

This was just a scam
to make off with the meat.

I knew there was something
about that raise I didn't like.

It's forty-six more dollars a week.

The only thing not to like is that

they didn't round up to fifty.

You heard Lawrence.
It's a socialist hand-out.

Like I'm in Red Square standing
in line for toilet paper.

But you earned this toilet paper

with your service to the company,

from which you have no problem
bringing home

- toilet paper all the time.
- Oh, it's not a hand-out

when they don't know you're taking it.

I'm a self-made man, Peg.

I like to think that the things
we have in our life, we deserve.

You really think we deserve this?

If our life were merit-based,
I'd like to believe

we'd be doing a little better
than stealing toilet paper

and eating park eggs!

- I can't accept the raise, honey.
- I can!

It's for the kids, anyway,
and that's my area.

So while you're off at work
being all "self-made,"

I am cooking and cleaning
and in the backyard

yanking a lizard
out of Baby Andy's mouth.

- He's got a new tooth.
- Is he okay?

Like you care about some lizard.

Look, that 46 bucks will make
things better in my life.

So call it communism
or Marxism or botulism,

I don't want to hear any more
about your pride.

It's a sin. Did you know that?

They just added it to the list.

If I compromise my principles,
I'm not the man you married.

Pretty sure I'd be just as happy
with the higher-paid guy.

Mr. Crane's office.

Is Mr. Crane there?

Not yet. May I help you?

Uh, yeah. My husband works
in his department,

and he thinks Mr. Crane
gave him a Marxist raise.

A Marxist raise? Mr. Crane?

Marxist, communist... I don't know.

My husband thinks he's in Red Square

- waiting for Charmin.
- And who's this Charmin?

Focus, please.

Look, Mr. Crane has
to convince my husband

his raise is on the up-and-up,

even if the orders come straight
from the Kremlin himself.

Do you understand?

I think I do.

Yes. Thank you for this information.

God bless America.

Whatever.

An apple? How'd this get in here?

Is the school nurse coming
to do a home check again?

That's from the carnival.
You can have it.

Huh.

That was very nice of you.

I already licked off
all the caramel anyway.

You finally won your stupid visor?

I love it. It's like having an extra arm

to do this all the time.

And how many dollars
did you recklessly squander

winning a 50-cent visor?

It's not about the money, Frank.

I had a blast winning it.

Ah, the song of the gullible.

You're exactly the type
of turnip-truck rube

that keeps those carnies
living like kings.

Like kings?
The guy in the goldfish booth

told me he gets to eat
the ones that die.

And I'm not sure he waits all the way.

Pat? What are you doing here?

Crab Boy's supposed to be onstage in...

two minutes ago!

Oh, I'm done with that.

Oh, let me guess. You want to direct.

You can't bail on me now, kid.

Tonight's the Sea Freak Extravaganza.

You're doing "Who's On First?"
with Squid Boy.

- No, thank you.
- Don't push him, Joey.

It's wrong to force a child

into the cutthroat world
of entertainment...

a dog-eat-dog hellscape
which chews you up

and spits you out.

Unless your talent is...

♪ Undeniable ♪

You really feel that way, kid?

You're putting me
in sort of a tough spot.

I signed a contract.

What if I got you more snacks, huh?

- Snacks for my star?
- It's not the snacks.

I've had some of the best shrimp
of my life this week.

I'm just done.

Don't say that. You're my Crab Boy.

I am not a crab!

I am a human being

with crab-like qualities!

You don't know these carnie-folk.

If I don't find someone to replace you,

I'll end up in one of those jars.

Hello? Mr. Crane?

Could you come in here, please?

Mr. Crane is currently
under investigation.

The dark shadow of Soviet aggression

has crept its way into Logan Aerospace.

These Tootsie Rolls for anybody?

- Hi there, Cleary.
- That would be Cleary

as in "Michael Cleary"?

Our security chief here

got a phone tip that I was a communist.

Which, if I was, I think I'd know.

On the other hand, they are sneaky.

How are you mixed up in all this,

and do you know somebody named...

Charmin?

Listen, it's true that
Mr. Crane gave me a raise

for reasons which possibly
fly in the face

of free-market values.

But I wouldn't call him a communist.

He drives a brand-new Eldorado.

But if I was a communist,

isn't that exactly what I would do?

Goodness. It's all adding up.

I'm humorless, I thrive in
an anonymous bureaucracy,

and I once wrote an effusive fan letter

to Olympic gymnast Olga Korbut...

"The Sparrow from Minsk."

Look, I'm not sure what's
going on with Mr. Crane...

Oh, have no doubt.
I'm in big trouble here.

You really should distance yourself.

I'm a patriotic American.

I eat meat at every meal
and often as a snack.

So if I've been offered a salary raise

under orders from Leonid Brezhnev,

I cannot, in good conscience,
accept that money.

According to what I see here,

your raise was entirely merit-based,

and, frankly, you should've
gotten it two years ago.

Seriously, Crane? Two years?

There was a wage freeze.

You said that was just
something companies say.

Well, I obviously can't be trusted.

Look at this jam I'm in right now.

I'm never gonna see my kids again, am I?

Turns out they've been
stiffing me for two years, Peg.

Maybe more.

Then we've got cause to celebrate.

Forty-six bucks.

We should get to the banquet early

and tip the valet to ding Helen's car.

Well, what's the point of being rich

if we don't do good things
with our money?

You're still doing this?
You already won your dumb hat.

Yeah, but it's fun, man.

Plus, with the visor,
I'm so much better at it.

Turns out the sun was in my
eyes for the first forty bucks.

Sammy, my friend,

another visor, s'il-vous please.

Here you go, pal. Visor con Dios.

You're not even keeping them?!

It... It makes no sense.
You're wasting money and visors.

It's not a waste. I practiced all year,

- and I'm really good at this.
- But it's pointless.

The pointlessness is the point.

You want to be happy, Frank,

find something stupid that you
can do better than anybody else

and do it a whole bunch.

From the farthest reaches
of the Swiss Alps,

spawn of man and beast,

brought in chains
at tremendous expense...

Mountain Goat Boy!

A miracle of balance and nimbleness,

there is nothing he cannot ascend

using only his hind hooves!

Hey, Frank! Catch!

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