The Italians

Father Joe, you in there?

Yes. Come in, my son, coming in.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

My last confession was, um...

It's fine if you can't remember it.

No, no, I remember.

I had to do my laundry, afterwards--

Let's just say it was last Sunday

and let's move on, okay?

-Sins? -Right. Um--

Lying. A lot of lying to my parents mostly.

I also might have resorted to violence at one point.

Is that how you got your black eye?

Yeah.

Sorry.

I'm sorry, I mean,

Nico, I never pinned you as a fighter, you know?

-What's that supposed to mean? -Is the other guy okay?

No, but I'm not the one who hurt him.

-That's all? -Yes, but--

Five Hail Mary, five Our Father.

-That's for your penance. -No. Okay.

I'm not alone. I brought my parents.

-Your parents? -Yeah.

To confess? What they have to confess for?

I have nothing to confess

that I don't feel 100% justified in doing.

And even then, none of it is sinful. None of it.

Just got out of the hospital, my own son

thinks the next place I need to go to is a church.

No disrespect, Father. This is ridiculous.

I go to church like a decent human being should.

-If I may-- -I'm telling you, Father Joe,

it's Vincenzo you've got to talk to.

Can't even begin to list the shit that he's pulled.

No disrespect, Father.

If I were you I'd skip penance entirely

and have him jump straight into hell.

Yeah, let the devil sort him out. See if I care.

And if he doesn't, then I'll just do it myself.

Just you watch me. I mean, what the hell?

No disrespect, Father.

I don't wanna be here, Joe.

Angelina might have mentioned.

-She mention anything else? -Quite a bit,

but I would like to hear it from you.

It's been a hectic few days.

Get it.

Call from Vitali Nico.

I'll get it.

Nico, why haven't you called?

Your father, he never does anything around here.

The Yankees are on. Hello?

Yeah, well, he never goes to the store.

He never listens.

Are you listening?

Be here at 6:00.

Antipasto con burrata,

minestrone, focaccia, prosciutto mortadella,

bucatini, eggplant parmigiana...

-Mmm. -...tiramisu for dessert,

and your favorite, meatballs, ground beef and pork.

No, no, no, love, no veal.

Don't be late.

No veal? C'mon-- Meatballs need veal.

-Ma dai, they were out of veal. -Hm.

Oh, stop it with this ding, ding, ding dong.

They kill lab rats.

If I die, they'll be doing you a favor.

I hate the sound of that back scratcher.

Maybe you could scratch my back, huh? Huh?

Yeah, and you know, I'll...

Don't start. I'm not in the mood.

Come on. Come on.

There's too much to get done.

Hey, when is the last time we did it?

Memorial Day.

I wore black a nightie in memory of all the people

who died for our country.

How come we only do it on birthdays and holidays?

We'll do it next time we go on vacation.

Hm?

Out, out. I've got work to do.

-That's our newspaper. -My yard, my paper.

Your paper?

-Morning. -And what do we have today?

Smell that eggplant.

Mmm! The bittersweet heavenly aroma.

And you call this a lemon?

I don't see you running to the store to find better ones.

-Morning, Angelina. -Morning, Murray.

No birthday parties in need of clowns today?

Either that or those horror movies

finally killed a once proud and profitable industry.

Where are you off to today?

Think I'll enjoy this day off.

I'll be next door with Vincenzo.

This is the saddest cup of coffee

-that I've ever seen. -Oh, I guess

I just don't have your magic espresso touch.

-Hmph. -Your nails look like shit.

Well, thanks. So do you, minus the hair.

Eh, the hair also looks like shit.

I'll fix it tomorrow.

And I told you, soft pink polish.

Not slutty pink. I took it off the minute I got home.

Well, you keep bitching you can go to that nail salon

down the street for 30 bucks.

-What is it? -I'm tracking Murray.

- What? - Yeah, there's an app.

Heh. There's always an app. Isn't it a little too much?

Ah, I gotta see what he's up to.

Relax, he's just going next door.

-Have you found anything out? -Not yet.

She made me dig up all my succulents, right,

just so she had room

to plant the exact same thing she could get at the market.

This is all I have left.

Welcome to Angela's greenery.

The stuff she grows

tastes better than the stuff at the store.

Jesus, you sound just like her.

-How's your son doing? -Good. Nico's good.

He's coming over for dinner tonight.

And God help him, he's bringing a girl.

She's made me clean all day like the Pope is coming.

From what I heard, your wife think you do nothing.

It's always, "I'll do it later."

Really? When's the last time you helped around the house?

I'm busy at work.

You are a birthday clown.

It's exhausting.

Don't start with me, you jobless--

-Retired. -Gavone.

Hey, stop stealing my lines, you--

Yah.

Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!

Oh, good. You're here.

Your son's finally bringing a girl over.

He won't even tell me her name.

Everything's a secret with that kid.

-That kid's 30 years old. -It's all your fault.

You're the reason why Nico never brings girls around.

You have scared off every girlfriend he's ever had,

except for Geena, the hyena,

who laughs at everything that anybody says

like she's heard it on Fallon.

Well, that hyena goes to mass every Sunday.

Ow, just behave yourself.

I don't need any more surprises. Out.

Mmm, mm, mm.

So, what exactly happens at that dinner?

I'm getting to that, but first, let me tell you,

it's a whole other story.

Something was up before we even got there.

Yeah, you know, those, um-- Ah. What do they call them?

You know, they made a musical about 'em.

Mormons. That's what they are.

-You know them? -What?

Okay, let me explain.

I just finished the getting the house ready

and they were gonna be there any minute.

Is that-- Ah! Vincenzo, it's her.

- What? - Nico's friend. She came early.

- By herself? - Yes.

Just put some pants on and get over here.

-I can't find my pants. -I picked them for you.

-They're on the dresser. -What about a shirt?

-Just put something on. -Anything?

-Yeah, yeah, anything. -What about my jersey?

-No, not that, you idiot. -You said anything.

Oh!

Hello there.

Hi. It is so nice to meet you.

Likewise. What's your name?

-I'm Chloe. -Chloe.

I'm Angelina Vitali. Nico's mom.

Although I wouldn't blame you

for confusing me with his sister.

I'm sorry?

Nothing. It was just a joke.

Are you, um...Italian?

I actually am on my mother's side.

Grazie dio.

Come on in then.

Okay.

Oh!

Excuse me.

Vincenzo, what are you wearing?

Couldn't find the shirt.

Chloe, this is my husband, Vincenzo.

Oh, it's so nice to meet you.

Never met a Chloe before.

-Where's Nico? -Nico?

Nico, our son. Your boyfriend.

Oh, you must have me confused for somebody else.

What?

Angel, you brought this woman into our house

without knowing who she was.

Well, it's not like she stopped me.