Mike & Molly

I mean, I understand that the woman is new to the school

and everybody's bending over backwards

trying to make her feel welcome, but "teacher of the month?"

Please.

That's an outrage.

And it has nothing to do with the fact

that I was "teacher of the month" for the last six months.

You know, two more and I would have gotten

to keep the ceramic owl.

I did not know that.

Not that I'm bragging, you know.

Just a deserved recognition for being a good teacher.

I didn't get it for wearing a push-up bra and giggling like an idiot

every time some man "makes a funny."

That reminds me.

Did you hear the joke about the blind prostitute?

Mike, I'm telling you about my day.

Punch line is "you gotta hand it to her."

You know, 'cause she's blind. Yeah.

I tell you, Joyce,

I'm really starting to get the hang of this yoga malarkey.

If I get any more limber, I won't need you anymore.

Hey, cowboy,

if you can do it, do it.

That cuts my workload in half.

She's got you doing yoga?

Yeah, she wants to show me off at her high school reunion.

That's why she's got me twisting in knots

and sniffing my own buttocks.

I can't wait to glide into that Sheraton banquet hall

with this hunk of Italian sausage on my arm.

You know, when you describe me as a piece of meat,

it makes me feel like a piece of meat.

Anyway, if you ask me, I think little miss "teacher of the month"

is in for a rude awakening.

And we're back.

She's gonna, she's gonna find

that your field trips, and learning games

and, you know, trying to be best friends with the kids

is not the-- a substitute for actual teaching.

I mean, she lets the kids call her by her first name.

There is a balance between being loving and being firm.

I don't think miss Jennifer gets that.

It's just insane the way people are fawning all over her.

Oh, did I tell you about the great parking spot they gave her?

You did. I was appalled.

Oh, look, escape from the planet of the apes is on.

I think that's the one where the monkeys go back in time

and wear suits and get jobs.

Mike.

That parking thing is a travesty.

Right?

And meanwhile, I'm parking behind the cafeteria,

under a tree filled with birds

who apparently eat nothing but lasagna and chocolate milk.

My glutes are still vibrating from that yoga class.

You could shake up a Martini in my crack.

Hey, I just got a batch of Cuban cigars

and I thought you might want to partake.

That sounds great.

Mike, we're-we're in the middle of a conversation.

It's just the middle?

I'd love to Vince,

but, uh, my girlfriend is sharing her day with me.

Actually, we're sharing our days

with each other.

Yeah, right. That.

Well, have you gotten to the part

where you pass on an $80 cigar

because you were pretending to listen to your girlfriend?

Hey, I'm not pretending. I listen to every word she says.

I could tell you for a fact that today, for lunch,

Molly had lasagna and chocolate milk.

Go smoke.

Nothing like the taste of a fine havana cigar

smuggled through the negligent borders of our Canadian cousins.

Lucky for the both of us, we're burning the evidence.

Where the commies fall short is tennis shoes and electronics.

Never ever buy a Cuban iPhone

or a pair of air castros.

Good to know.

Listen,

I wanted to talk to you about something.

Kind of a personal matter.

Oh, boy, everybody's in a chatty mood tonight.

What I'm about to tell you is strictly hush-hush.

'Cause if Joyce ever found out, it would kill her.

Thank you for the cigar and the pleasant conversation,

but I don't want to hear about another woman.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

This ain't about me getting some on the side. Geez.

I got to pop oysters and stiffy pills

just to keep up with the big red machine in there.

Good.

'Cause I really want to finish that cigar.

Come on, sit down.

Take a considerable load off.

Okay, here it is.

All this talk about Joyce's high school reunion

has made me feel bad

about not being a high school graduate.

Is that it?

Yeah, what'd you think,

I was gonna profess my love to you?

No, it's just that

not graduating from high school isn't that big a deal.

It is to me.

And I've never told that to another living soul.

You're kidding. Well,

I was gonna confide it to my wife on her death bed,

but we had so many other important things to talk about.

Of course.

Code to the alarm system,

her recipe for manicotti,

what dry cleaners my good black suit was at.

Well, if you're worried about what Joyce will think,

I'm sure she'll understand.

Joyce must never know.

I don't want her to find out

my worldly, sophisticated exterior

is nothing but a facade.

You know, technically, the exterior is the facade.

I think it's French or something.

See, that right there is why I don't tell people.

You're already talking to me like I'm an idiot.

No, I'm just saying, you shouldn't feel bad

about not graduating high school.

Easy for you to say; You're a learned man.

Well, I wouldn't say "learned,"

but I had a strong "c" average in high school,

which made the transition to junior college a smooth path.

Hang on. You're telling me you went to college?

Two full years and a mandatory summer session.

That was eighth grade for me!

Geometry made me its bitch.

Ell, why don't you just get your ged?

That's what I wanted to talk to you about.

You're a government employee.

Maybe you could pull a couple of strings

and slide me one under the table.

Doesn't really work that way.

This isn't something I can just fix, like a parking ticket.

You told me you couldn't fix parking tickets. I can't.

Then why are you dangling the carrot?

Look, if you want to get your ged,

you got to take the test. But lucky for you,

there's a woman in that house that can help you study.

You mean Molly.

Voted "teacher of the mont"" six times in a row.

She received the coveted ceramic owl.

She doesn't really like me, though.

I mean, I get that kids are always standoffish

when they know you're banging their mom,

but she goes the extra mile.

Yeah, she has yet to succumb to your unique charms.

Plus, women tell each other everything,

and she'll end up blabbing it to Joyce.

Can't argue with you there.

That family could talk underwater.

Hey, maybe you could get a tutor.

How 'bout you?

I don't know. I was always

kind of a "wing and a prayer" kind of student.

They used to call me Mr. cliff notes.

But what about junior college?

That's really just a high school where you can smoke.

My point exactly.

If a load like you can get kicked through the system,

there's still hope for me.

Well, that's not flattering,

but I can certainly see what got you there.

A shower was a good idea.

I am fresh as a Daisy.

Unfortunately, now your loofah smells like cigar smoke and b.O.

Sexy.

Did you and Vince have a good time tonight?

It was okay. He's a decent enough guy.

See, that's where you and I part ways.

What did he want to talk to you about?

Nothing in particular.

Just cigar talk.

"Cigar talk?" You know,

"this is a good cigar."

"Glad you like it." "I like it a lot."

"Hey, is that a cat?"

"No, it's a possum." Cigar talk.

Well, I guess that's more fun

than having a conversation with your girlfriend.

Only because of the cigars and the possum sighting.

May I offer you some squeaky-clean loving?

Hang on, hang on.

So Vince just wanted to give you an $80 cigar

and didn't want anything in return?

Same guy that offered you a box of steaks

in exchange for a handicap parking pass.

I felt bad about that.

He already bought those nice aluminum crutches.

But tonight, he just wanted to share something in confidence,

you know, man-to-man.

Doesn't have anything to do with my mom, does it?