Mother Father Sister Brother Frank

Amen.

So, who wants to carve?

I'll carve.

Mm.

We need more wine.

Jojo, breast?

-Breast or thigh? -Hmm?

Oh, um...

Jim, no phone at the table.

Both.

Well, someone's hungry.

This is the good stuff.

Costco had a sale.

Saving it for a special occasion.

Tonight is a special occasion?

Every Sunday dinner,

with my two precious babies,

is a special occasion, isn't it?

Say "yes," dear.

-Yes, dear. -Thank you.

Oh, no thanks, I'm doing a cleanse.

A heavy cream and cheddar cleanse?

Fatty-fatty-boom-boof?

Jim-jamin, leave your sister alone.

She looks happy.

Healthy.

Robust.

Mom! I'm just taking a break from booze.

Your blood is proof.

Well, addiction runs on your father's side.

-Good for you, sweetheart. -Great-grandfather.

Are there bacon bits?

Are there bacon bits?

Of course, I mean, is the Pope Catholic?

I'll get the bacon bits. Of course, they're right here.

Why would I not make bacon bits?

There's always room for bacon.

Here you go, Jojo.

Jim-jamin, red or white?

-Those crispy enough? -Yeah.

-Beer? -Uh, no, I'm good--

-We've got plenty in the fridge. -I know you like them crisp.

Fine, I'll have white.

It's plenty crisp.

All right.

That's uh, that's good, thank you.

Okay. Don't make me get my belt.

All I ask for is one evening a week

of your undivided attention.

Whether we like it or not.

A toast.

To a perfect night, with my precious little babies.

It's bad luck to "cheers" with water.

Okay.

This.

This is why Sunday family dinners are so special.

And I don't why her dog loves that back Mugo Pine

so much, but it's the third time this month.

So I call her on the phone, and I say,

"Ronda, if I find another mutilated rabbit back there,

I'm just gonna--"

Well, okay. The point of the story is,

it reminded of this time when the two of you were little.

And, well,

You know if I had my way,

I would just shrink you both down,

and stuff you back inside, and do it all over again.

- Gross. Gross! - Oh, my. Ohh!

I gotta pee.

Oh, forgive me for loving my babies.

Just 'cause they cut the umbilical cord does--

Oh, Jojo, use the one upstairs.

The doorknob down here is broken,

it locks you in from the inside.

Don't ask. Oh, this house!

Oh!

Jerry, we've gotta fix that.

Okay, what if I was pooping?

You're being weird tonight, right?

I can't, okay? I can't.

I can't just take another Sunday dinner,

where we just pretend we're this cozy family,

where we talk, and we talk,

while Mom talks, and nothing real is actually said.

Yeah, just put your head down, and it'll be over soon.

Of course you would say that.

What is that supposed to mean?

Because at the first whiff of conflict,

you always turtle back into your shell.

What, I'm supposed to be up here,

-pounding anxiety pills instead? -I wasn't!

And, yes, of all of us, you absolutely should have--

Okay, I'm sorry, I just don't understand what your problem is.

The problem is Mom can't get over the fact

that we're not babies anymore.

And I swear to God, if she says "babies" one more time,

I'm gonna murder somebody.

Pregnant.

What? No.

Did you not hear anything--

I have never seen you turn down wine.

You have baby on the brain.

And mosquito bites, your boobs look huge.

They do, don't they?

I'm not pregnant.

-Mm... -Where's Pete?

Wow. Okay?

Maybe you're avoiding the subject a little bit?

-I would say? -I am not avoiding the sub--

Mm!

I'm gonna be a guncle.

We have to tell them, Joy.

Ah, we will, when the time is right.

The deal was dinner.

Good memories in this house.

-Can we just promise-- -Kids!

- No dessert! - Dishes!

No, they can't handle it, Joy,

otherwise, they'll show up next Sunday, and--

And then it's Chickenfoot!

I mean, forget the spin cycle, do I do color?

Do I do stainless steel?

Okay, just buy a new one, you know?

It's been broken for--

Well, a dishwasher is an investment piece,

more research is required.

It's just not the right time.

And when will the right time be?

Well, if we bought it already,

we wouldn't be sharing this bonding moment

with our two babies.

Whoa, what's with all of the--

Costco had a sale.

-Honey, it's still dirty. -Oh, I got it. I got it!

-Let me do it. -Kids, your mother and I have--

Jerry, Christ on a cracker,

look what you made me do.

Give it to me.

Nothing is going to ruin tonight.

Nothing.

Pete works such long hours,

but Sunday overtime, though.

Ooh, tricky fours.

I love Pete, he's a second son,

but tonight it feels like old times,

just the four of us.

Yeah, it's too bad that Pete's missing out.

Tricky threes.

- Still feeling nauseous? - Oh, sweetheart,

you have the tummy rumbles?

I'm fine. Your turn, Dad.

I already know, Jolene.

I'm just waitin' for the right time.

Yeah, well, you just stay fine,

because it's pie next, and then a campfire.

It's freezing outside.

Well, it's a good thing your father spent all afternoon

chopping wood to keep us toasty.

We have to tell them, Joy.

Tell us what?

That this is a Sunday dinner to remember, that's all!

Oh, we have to rip off the bandage!

-Dad, what is going on? -Everything is fine!

Everything is not fine!

-Kids, we have to tell you-- -No, Jerry!

I want one last night!

Surprise!

Frank.

Jesus, Jerry, with a face like that,

people might think you weren't happy to see me.

Baby brother.

Whoa!

There's no fuckin' way I'm gettin' on a fuckin' plane.

Language.

Pardonnez-moi, Joy.

Gotta keep it loose.

Gotta keep Big Brother from guessing where I'm at.

So, one of the bus drivers, a lady driver--

Total smoke show.

She looks at my ID and says, uh, "Sanchez?"

I say, "Fuck yeah, Sanchez."

She gives me this deadly look.

Dear old Daddy-o, he'd have pissed his panties.

Been a quivering pussy since the day he was born.

But I got to admit, for a moment there I thought,

fuckin' balls, I'm cooked.

And I paid a little Mexican fellow mucho pesos

for that ID.

But it turns out, she just wanted a taste

of Frank's old... hot sauce.

So--

We spent three glorious nights kapow-ing in El Paso.

Ah, I'm still off the grid.

Life is grand.

But I says to myself, I says,

"Frank, you gotta get home by Sunday,

because, uh...

there might be a little slice of pie in it for you."

Am I right, Joy-less?

You got a slice of pie for me?