Original subtitles

Hey, how'd you make out? Don't thank me, but I just saved your rummage sale. Oh,

what you got?

Well, you know, a bunch of my old toys, maybe some school books, stuff I was

saving for when the Smithsonian finally opens its Greg Montgomery exhibit.

Yeah, what's holding that up, by the way? Well, they just have to move J.

Hoover's prom dress.

Cool!

Visible man.

And visible woman.

Just goes to show you there's somebody out there for everyone.

Have you looked close?

He only has one kidney.

I lost hers, and he donated one so she could live.

Oh, that's love.

You know, you should probably keep these as a set. Right, for the sake of the

visible kids.

Hey, what do you say we try and get, what, five bucks for the two of them,

Five bucks?

I built these. Look at the tiny veins I painted around the adrenal glands. Look

at the detail.

Eight bucks?

You know what?

I'm going to hang on to these. We should, you know, keep looking. Okay.

Monopoly. Not just Monopoly.

Monopoly in French. We used to play it in French club.

Sounds like a place for it.

Three bucks?

Three. This is Monopoly in French. Look, instead of Boardwalk, you get Champs

-Élysées. If we had Boardwalk, I could get five.

You're not selling this for three dollars.

Three francs?

Keep looking.

Look.

My model of the UFS Missouri. I never felt this.

You're probably busy with all your kidney transplant surgery.

Charges work.

You know, why don't I look in the other box? And the anchor's made of real

metal. Nice.

Hey, okay if I sell some of these math books?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, but not the calculus and trig. Those could come in

Look.

Gunnery made. This doesn't look that hard.

Wow. What class was this for?

What? Her trembling body tensed beneath his muscular chest.

moved as one, faster and faster.

We must be quiet, she whispered, her voice husky with passion.

My father will hear us. Let me see that. Oh, you built your thing. This is mine.

I'll be quiet, he said. Can you? He pressed his body against hers and she

out in ecstasy.

Didn't write this?

Looks like my mother's handwriting.

Anyway, it looked like some stuff got mixed up with Greg's toys by mistake.

Here's a photo of you, Greg, and Edward dressed up in 1890s clothes.

Oh, yes.

Well, thank you. And this, I think, is a fondue fork. You're probably looking

all over for that.

And there's this.

Looks like you were world's best mom one year. Belated congratulations.

Thank you. You're welcome.

Ah, all right.

Yeah, you know, I actually thought that was a real picture from the 1890s, you

know, like a great -grandmother who really looked like you.

No, no, no, this is a little place on Fisherman's Wharf. I don't believe it's

there anymore. Oh, shame. Yes.

All right, well, did I give you everything? Did you get that notebook?

Yes, I did. Oh, yeah, do you want to check and make sure it's yours? Because

did not look at it. I mean, I kind of glanced. Handwriting looked like yours.

It's mine.

Yeah, um, the little part that I glanced at?

Intriguing. Uh -huh.

Actually, I read the whole thing. Twice.

Look, you have stumbled upon something of mine that is very personal, and I

prefer to keep it that way.

Can you respect that?

Kitty, it's good. We should share it with the world.

All right.

Fine. How much do you want to keep it quiet?

To not tell anybody, how much do you want? Kitty, you don't need to be

embarrassed. This is really good writing. You could be published. Just

number. I don't want your money. I just want to tell you how impressed I am that

you could express your sexuality with such... Grr! Roar!

Dama, please.

Let's not talk about this again.

Okay.

Thank you.

Did you just make this stuff up or is it based on something that you actually

met in a stable?

I'll get the checkbook.

You know, your mother has no idea how good a writer she is. Well, I hope you

didn't encourage her.

Oh.

Dharma, why?

It's okay. She didn't believe me.

Good. So I'm taking her to my mother's erotica circle.

Her what?

Is this the bunch of Abby's friends who like to read and write erotic

literature? Oh, Dharma, why?

Why do they do it, or what? Why am I taking her? Why are you taking her? I

even want to think about why they do it.

Because if your mother hears how good her writing is from people who aren't

family, maybe she'll believe it. Maybe she'll write more.

Maybe we don't want that.

Obviously, her writing is an outlet for her repressed sexuality. Your mother is

a lusty volcano just waiting to erupt.

Okay, we need to establish some ground rules here.

We never use the words mother, lusty, and erupt in the same sentence.

You'd be glad your mother has a healthy sexual appetite.

And there goes the word appetite.

I gaze with loving on my husband, Ben.

But I'm glad that I can, every now and then, fulfill my secret longings when

I travel in my dream to a world without men.

think I feel really comfortable here, Dharma.

Thank you, Joyce. I think that's coming along very nicely.

All right. Does anybody else have anything to read?

Yeah.

Dharma.

This is a short story entitled The Storm.

He knew she didn't belong in the stables at night.

She was drawn to him like a drowning man to air.

She entered the warm summer breeze, teasing her robe open.

He emerged from the shadows, sweeping her into the haven of his powerful

embrace.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard dogs barking.

He turned and spread his threadbare cloak on the damp drop.

I've never owned anything but my heart and my soul. And now they too are gone.

They belong to me.

Let's rock this table.

Their bodies.

roiled together as one like the tide of the ocean rising and falling on rocks.

Finally, their bodies spent.

They clung to each other, knowing that when they said goodbye, it would be

forever.

Oh, oh, oh.

Dharma, you wrote this?

Nope. Oh, it's wonderful.

Who?

I'm sorry, but the author prefers to remain anonymous. Well, no, I think we

could share our little secret with a few people.

it, did you?

Yeah, why?

Well, now, how do we get the captain inside?

Okay.

Maybe you could stand on the deck.

Really, Pete?

Look at him.

He's sitting.

We could sit with this guy and work the gun.

The captain doesn't use the gun.

This one does, and that's why all the guys like him.

Great, Kitty.

Congratulations.

I know.

Okay, so we'll see you tonight.

is publishing a collection of women's erotica, and if your mom expands her

to 5 ,000 words, they're going to put it in.

Well, that's just great.

Now, I don't have all your fancy book learning, but erotica, that would be the

ribald tales of the pleasures of the flesh, right?

Look what you did.

Greg's a little embarrassed about this whole thing. Just a little.

Honey, I think you're looking at this the wrong way. Your mom...

She's writing dirty stories. She's getting positive reinforcement for her

fantasies, and that is going to help every aspect of her sexual life.

Thank you. That's a much better way to put it.

I think so.

Not really important where the captain sits now, is it?

No, it's not.

He can sit on his butt. and read some of your mom's stories.

Promise me we can get through dinner without talking about my mother's

no talk about lust, no talk about sex.

Can I say the chicken breast is juicy?

Only if we're having chicken.

Hi, Celia. Hi. Where are my folk?

Upstairs.

Well, could you tell them that we're here for dinner?

I don't think it's a good time.

In the bedroom, in the pool house, in the jacuzzi.

Grandma, maybe we should go.

Oh, no. They'll be down soon. All they've got to eat is whipped cream and

maracino cherries.

I told him he shouldn't try to carry her.

Oh, look at that. Pete put the decal on the hull and it's not painted.

new story?

More than anything in the whole wide world.

They kissed. They kissed the second time. It was time for sex.

She knew what he wanted. He knew what she wanted. So the sex was pretty good.

can't turn this in.

Good. Don't. End of story. I can't let Kitty know how bad this is either. She's

been making such great progress.

I know what I should do. I'm kind of like her editor. I'll just punch it up a

little bit. Throw in a couple pairs of hungry lips. Some creamy white thigh.

You're going to do that out loud?

I just don't know what happened. There is none of your mother in here.

Where are the heaving bosoms? Where are the clenched buttocks?

Mine are clenched up pretty good right now.

You know, you can't get the stickers off. I had to get a whole new boat.

I said I was sorry.

Hi, fellas. Hi, Dad.

Sorry I'm late. I had a little trouble getting out of the house.

I'd rather not say, but it's in the area of trying to keep your mother satisfied

sexually.

There goes the word satisfied.

And a little horizontal overtime, huh, Mr. M?

You know, she's got this new thing now where she tells you what she likes, then

she talks you through it like some air traffic controller.

Will you please stop talking about that? Oh, I'm sorry, son.

I told her I was an old man. She didn't seem to care.

Yeah, I know what you're going through.

When I was in high school, I had this friend that had kind of a hot mom, you

know, divorced, liked her Mai Tais.

We had a couple fun days together, and then I couldn't shake her. She started

picking me up after school.

She'd be in the stands at football games.

Started affecting my grades.

What'd you do?

Oh, I gave a guy at the emergency room 20 bucks for some x -rays and a neck

brace. I don't think Kitty would fall for that.

How about this one?

You know, a cheap watch to turn your wrist green.

I'll be in the pro shop.

How's a green wrist going to slow her down?

Honey, will you read this and tell me what you think? Be totally honest.

Dharma, why don't you believe me when I say that I don't want to read my

mother's dirty stories?

It's okay. It's 2 % mom, 98 % Dharma.

Come on.

I need the feedback.

A new stable boy my husband hired to look after the estate now that he's been

called off to war.

A war from which he may never return.

And you must be Samantha, the lady of the house I've been warned against

befriending by your husband who has gone off to a war he may never return from.

Are you afeard of my husband?

I'm afeard of no man.

Keep her reading.

I'm afeard of no man.

I am loath to admit it is I who am

afeard. She trembled in his arms.

Perhaps milady would take comfort in a simple flagon of a working man's ale.

How is he handing her a flagon of ale?

You know, if you don't want to read it, don't read it, okay?

A flagon?

Yes.

That's what ale came in, not six -pack flagon called research.

Get the flagon. I want to know what you think about the writing.

No, you don't. Okay, you know what? You're just a lawyer. I don't even know

I asked you.

Angrily, she stormed into the stormy night.

And gave it...

I know this last story wasn't my best writing, but from this rejection notice,

one would think that it was unreadable.

Is there a fear to publish it? What does that mean?

Forget that. This new story is hot, Kitty. It's a real bosom heaver.

Yes, it is good, isn't it?

What's the matter?

You know why it is good?

Well, for me.

It's when the bankrupt heiress sells her body to the lusty gun runner.

It's good because Edward wrenched his neck playing golf.

What does that have to do with... Oh.

So he hasn't been able to, uh... And that's why you're able to... And before,

when you were... You couldn't...

Greg, you think you'd be able to have your beefcake and eat it, too?

I wonder I couldn't write.

You all right?

Oh, dabbling.

Hey,

honey.

I know I've been a little insensitive about your feelings lately.

I was wrong to force your mother's sexuality on you, and you weren't ready

it.

Thank you.

And it's just a hunch, but I think she's going to give up the writing.

Good. Yeah, especially now that she figured out your dad can have sex with

neck brace on if he's on top.

Sorry, I'm forcing again. Okay.

Permission to come aboard, Captain?

It's been a while, hasn't it? It certainly has.

Calm down, Kitty.

Uh -huh.

Okay, hang on. Hang on.

There's something wrong with your father, and Kitty called an ambulance

won't put in it.

Mother, what's wrong?

Calm down and tell me what's going on.

Okay, it's not permanently green, Mother.

Put that on.

What's green? My father's penis, and it's your fault.

This isn't half bad.

Oh, thank you.

This isn't right.

Hush, my love.

We haven't much time.

Hey, that's a pretty spirited filly you got there, Edward.

Whatever happened to that Mr.

Ed program? That was a cute show.