Mike & Molly

Pudding's almost cooled.

Another five minutes, I'll peel the skin off

and baptize it in Reddi-wip.

Actually, we... we have to go.

I've... I've got, I've got papers to grade

and Mike has, you know...

You... you have something, sweetie?

Nope. Football's over.

My Sunday nights are pretty much wide open.

Well, apparently, I misspoke.

What's happening on the baby front?

Am I gonna be a grandma

or should I just fill up my wallet with baseball cards?

Well, we could be home right now trying,

but instead, we're here, waiting for you

to skin the puddin'.

If you're totally barren,

I guess the two of you could always adopt some unwanted brat.

I'm not barren, Peggy, okay?

If I was any more fertile,

I'd have pumpkins growing out of me.

If you do adopt,

steer clear of those teen mom Appalachian babies.

Give me Chinese over white trash any day.

They'll walk on your back, and you don't have to worry

about 'em hocking your TV for methamphetamine.

Get me the hell out of here.

It's no big deal.

It's just taking a little longer than we'd hoped.

You remember what that's like.

Sure, your old man's seed didn't take on the first poke,

but I wasn't racing the clock like this one.

I'm still a vital young woman.

I'm engaging. Why do I keep engaging?!

And if the adoption agencies don't find you suitable,

you can always get yourself a cat.

They'll give those to anybody.

Okay, good food, good fun and good night.

Thanks for dinner, Mom.

I guess you could just save me some pudding.

Well, you can have it with your cake

when you come over Tuesday night for your birthday bash.

No, we agreed that this year, his birthday was at our house.

Real nice.

Make a poor old lady drag herself halfway across town

for your flavorless cake and snotty comments.

I'm not making you do anything, old woman.

You don't want to come, don't come!

I'll be so disappointed, but I'll get over it!

Whoo! I hope the children don't get her temperament.

Maybe it's a blessing she can't breed.

Thanks, Mom. Another Sunday Funday.

It was, wasn't it? And just so you know,

you don't have to bring her with you every time.

We're married now. My hell is her hell.

Look, I know that she's your mother,

but if some stranger talked to me like that,

they'd get a kisser full of this.

I've told you before, you can't let her push your buttons.

She doesn't just push my buttons.

She leans on 'em, she tapes 'em down.

You know she's never gonna change,

so why not learn to be the bigger person?

I am being the bigger person.

Otherwise, she'd be in the emergency room getting

my sensible shoe removed from her hateful old rump.

Wow, you know, right there,

you sound exactly like my dad?

When we do have a baby,

I'm not letting that nasty woman anywhere near it.

Come on.

And even if we accidentally

drive by her house,

we'll tell our kids, "That's where an old devil witch lives."

That's exactly what my dad would say each time

he and I came home from a ball game.

I just think we should rethink

this birthday party thing.

I don't think if I can handle that woman

two days in one week.

What? You're gonna cancel my birthday party?!

No, we can still do something fun.

Hey, that miniature golf place just opened up for the season.

That's lame. I don't want to do that.

Fine, I'll do whatever you want.

Keep it small.

And by "small," I mean anyone but your mother.

Come on, Mol. It's my birthday.

I'm counting on you to be the reasonable person.

Gah! All right!

I'll suck it up.

Pull into that 7-Eleven.

That damn woman put pudding in my brain.

Hey, you're gonna love the birthday present

I got for you this year.

And I left the price tag on it,

so you know exactly how much to spend on mine.

That's very thoughtful of you.

And feel free to go over budget if you want to make up

for buying me a pocket comb and anti-fungal foot spray.

Haven't you ever heard the expression,

"It's the thought that counts"?

What thought? You bought a man with no hair a comb,

and you could eat off of my feet.

Hello. Welcome to Abraham's.

Do you know what you would like?

Uh, you, a dark room, and some Barry White music.

No-no-no-no-no-no, Shyama! Go away, please.

This is my table.

Well, my, my, my,

it looks like we got something new

and tasty on the menu.

Really? Did they bring back corn fritters?

I love those things.

Carl, she is new to this country

and deserves better than some skeevy guy

trying to take advantage of her trusting nature

just to get her into bed.

Besides, I saw her first, so I got dibs.

Yeah, we gonna see about that, Wally the Waiter.

Hey, you better plan on eating every meal

of every day right here.

Sure, sure. I'm not seeing corn fritters anywhere.

Is it on special?

I usually marry him.

Then you cheat on him.

I will gut you like a fish.

There's no stabbing in here.

You're both on parole and I just waxed the floor.

Gals.

Kudos on the Mexican pizza today.

Muy bueno.

I'm gonna go over here and have a little chin-wag

with the mother-in-law.

Hello, Peggy.

State your business and go.

I've got six tables to de-booger

and I'm working with a gabby crew.

Okay, um... for Mike's sake,

can we just put our differences aside?

Hey, I'm not the pigheaded one

who doesn't play well with others.

No, you're a real peach.

Look, he wants a birthday party, and for whatever reason,

he wants us both there.

Well, he wants me there

because I'm the woman who gave him life.

I don't know what he's thinking about you.

What do you say, uh, we plan something together...

for Mike, who we both love?

Fine. 7:00 at my house tonight.

- We'll hash out the details for the boy's soiree. - Great.

You know, we could do it at my place, too.

I've got a computer and Internet access.

We planning a party or hacking into the Pentagon?

This is gonna be fun.

Your place, 7:00. Ah!

Ladies, are we taking a beauty nap?

Let's get this place standing tall,

so I can get home and watch Dr. Phil.

It's "Pederast Week."

You did good work today, Shyama.

And after a few more weeks of training,

we will begin to split the tips.

That is most generous of you, Samuel.

70-30, of course.

So, uh, what are you doing now?

Would you like to grab a beer,

perhaps take a walk in the park?

Oh, no, I'm very tired.

Well, then, how about a foot massage?

I have lotion.

Hey, Samuel...

you ready to go home?

Carl, what are you doing here?

What am I doing here?

I'm here to give my roommate a ride home.

Brother doesn't have a car.

You have never once given me a ride home.

And you always flip me off when you see me at the bus stop.

What? That's just for fun.

You know, give you a little chuckle

on your long-ass bus ride.

How about you? You need a ride?

- Well... - No...

we are taking the bus home.

I'm giving Shyama the nickel tour of the city.

Man, that's half your savings.

And besides, we can't show a delicate flower

the city of Chicago on a dirty city bus.

No, she needs to see it from the passenger seat of a

2003 Chevrolet Blazer.

You own your own car?

In 13 more easy payments, I do.

- You ever seen a moon-roof? - No.

Girl, you in for a treat.

I might even let you work the button.

No, no, no, no! Don't touch his button!

Damn it. Guys with cars can kiss my ass.

Okay, I was thinking for Mike's birthday extravaganza