Original subtitles

PHIL: Hey, Tara.

Tara?

TARA: Yeah, we're in here, babe.

Jessie and Tom having a fight?

No.

Ben's mom is just up from Miami.

Still haven't told Granny Bellow you're married, huh?

This is the woman who suffocated her canary

for singing too loud.

Ben's terrified of what she'd say.

So how long you hiding out for?

Till the old shrew leaves our attic.

Hey, now.

They wouldn't appreciate you calling Ben's mother a shrew.

Is the old shrew coming down, or is she

going to make us late again?

Can't we go without her?

She keeps calling me a boy.

I think Jessie should come.

We will tell Grandma at brunch that we're married, OK?

I'm sick of lying.

Nobody is lying, Tom.

We're simply calibrating the appropriate time

to tell a fragile, elderly lady that that her beloved grandson

made a rash decision. - Hey!

And by my calculations, that time would be never.

I trust you cleared all of the evidence of Jessie

from upstairs, as discussed?

Grandma's lumbago must be acting up.

He's right.

If we told her when you got married,

it would've been bad enough.

Now, how do we explain ourselves?

By admitting we're afraid of her?

Wait till you're 21, then she'll be deaf.

You can tell her as many times as you want.

Yeah, like the devil can go deaf.

She's gone.

She left without us.

What a surprise.

BEN: No, no, no, no.

I mean gone, gone.

Grandma's dead.

I thought there'd be incident tape or a chalk

outline or something.

We have to get rid of it and everything

that ever touched it.

I'll flip the mattress.

Great.

So her death germs will be six inches under me instead of

right next to my skin.

Ew.

I have to get out of here.

Jessie, death is sad but inevitable.

I've lost a lot of people I care about, and Grandma.

It's just creepy.

My first death in my first marriage bed.

Are you planning on a second marriage or just another bed?

PARAMEDIC: Hi.

Uh-- found this clutched in your grandmother's hand.

I believe it's yours.

Thanks.

Also, this was in her pocket.

She stole my necklace!

What is it?

I killed Grandma.

[MUSIC - HAWKSLEY WORKMAN AND DOLLY, "YES, I DO"]

Can't we find a way that we could be together?

Is there any way that we could be together?

And oh, by the way, baby, do you love me?

Yes, I do.

Yes, I do.

Yes, I do.

Yes, I do.

That picture had nothing to do with her death.

You're just being paranoid.

You're right.

Given her mickey-a-day diet, it was probably liver disease.

Aren't you glad you didn't tell

Grandma about your marriage?

Dad was right.

The news probably would have killed her.

Would have been some brunch.

Have some respect.

Her bed is still warm.

You mean your bed?

Why are you so bent out of shape, Tom?

This is the woman who made you change your own diapers.

Monica's right.

This is no tragedy.

She was 89 years old.

And she was definitely--

past the best-by date.

She's the woman who stopped me from wetting the bed--

This is my grammy.

GRANDMA BELLOW: And this is why Tom can't have any sleepovers.

[students laughing]

--and started my lifelong fear of public speaking.

It's such a tragedy.

Sweet, old Grandma.

We'll miss her.

Well, we can all take comfort in knowing

she's watching us from above.

Better there than here.

That's so funny, Mom.

She's only dead.

He's still grieving.

CARTER: Murder or manslaughter?

It was an accident!

So manslaughter.

Oh, not so fast there, chiquita.

Tom knew that if Granny found out he got married,

she would die.

Yet he left the photo in a cookbook for her to find.

Ergo, he killed her.

No, he said that if she found out, she would kill him.

Ah.

Self-defense.

How am I going to tell my father I killed his mother?

Ask Oedipus?

Wait!

You're in the clear.

Heart disease is the number one killer among the elderly.

It's associated with diabetes, smoking, and lack of exercise,

all of which she had.

Oh.

Wha-- what?

Shock and anger have been linked

to sudden cardiac arrest.

Who's up for ice cream?

Look, Tom.

You can't tell your father.

For once, we're in agreement.

Hide the photo and lie.

BEN: OK.

Thank you.

Hmm.

Thoughtful to the end.

Turns out she made her own funeral arrangements.

That is considerate.

Maybe she wanted to spare you the expense.

She used my card.

Ah.

She being interred with your family?

Kind of.

Just not the dead ones.

She's being cremated, and she wants

her ashes spread nearby us.

How near?

TARA: This has to be a mistake, Judith.

Ben's mother said "large hydrangea bush near the fence."

And this is the large hydrangea bush near the fence.

Yes, in our backyard.

I'm sure she didn't want to spend eternity with us.

She hated us.

Yeah, apparently not as much as she hated my garden.

Oh.

BEN: No, it is a mistake, all right--

with that property line.

Somebody clearly messed with it when that fence

was being built. Bill.

You built the fence, Ben.

PHIL: Bob.

Hey, Bob.

Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob.

It's Ben.

TARA: OK.

Time like this calls for compassion.

So, Ben, you're more than welcome to spread your mother's

ashes on our bush.

Who knows, it might even do the garden some good.

Yeah, especially the weeping willow.

That's not weeping.

Oh, it will be.

It's so absolute.

No one close to me has died.

Well, yeah.

You're supposed to save the tough love

for when I'm into hard drugs.

What about your turtle?

She didn't die.

She went for a walk.

Yeah, on the road, where she died.

Don't you remember?

I made you a hat from her shell.

She didn't die.

Turtles walk slow.

Honey, death is a positive thing.

I mean, just think, in 100 years, brand new people--

and turtles.

I should have gone to Judith.

Oh, don't be silly.

Us Merker women, we are a hardy bunch.

Chances are you'll be burying both your father and I--

and Tom.

Well, if this is where my mother wants her memorial,

we've got work to do.

Your mother is the gift that keeps on giving.

I'll get the weedkiller.

Hey, Phil. - Hmm?

Hey, Phil.

[sighs]

Judith?

What killed Grandpa Bellow?

Grandma Bellow.

She broke his heart by running off with his golf partner.

That's great.

I mean, not ideal.

Actually, kind of sad.

But at least it wasn't anything genetic.

By broke his heart, I mean his pacemaker

literally blew a gasket.

Well, what about your father?

He died in a bizarre lawn bowling accident.

As in, he could have lived a long, long time?

Well, sure.

If you take away the chronic bronchitis, enlarged liver,

and incipient gigantism.

By the end, he was just praying to die.

Oh.

But don't worry.

Ben and I are very healthy.

Except for Ben's blood pressure.

And my fibromyalgia, which is real.

Whoa.

Sorry about that.

It's OK.

It was way too cold and refreshing.

You may want to put some sunscreen on that.

Shouldn't take much.

PHIL: OK, here's a question.

Why would we let our neighbors use our yard as a pet cemetery

for grandmothers?

Oh, I wasn't sure you even noticed.

It's like a parade out there, without the clowns.

I can't get any work done--

without my siestas, I mean.

OK, honey.

If you want Ben out of your hair,

then why don't you just help him out?

Problem solved.

[drill whirring] - What the hell?

What the hell?

I wanted to help Ben out.

Now that your mother's crossed over to the other side,

I wanted you to be able to join her.

That sounds like a threat.

Join her, symbolically, in her own special place,

away from my lounger.

I'm touched, Phil.

Truly touched.

We're family now.

Mi casa es su casa, my friend.

Cheer up.

I made soup.

This is good.

What's in it?

Cream, butter, salt.

You know, I think it's time we start eating better.

Just because we're young doesn't mean we

shouldn't think of the future.

This is my comfort food.

I always eat this stuff when I'm stressed.

What are you talking about?

I've never seen you make this in my life.

This is Grandma's soup.

She is reaching out from beyond the grave.

Pull yourself together.

Pull myself together?

I killed my grandmother.

Now, every time I look at my father's face, a piece of me

will die.

Then tell him.

Tell what?

Let go of the guilt. Your Dad's a practical man.

He'll understand.

You have to tell him.

TOM: You can do this.

You can do this.

Hey, Dad.

Hey.

There's something I want to confess.

And I know you'll understand because you

are a very understanding guy.

Final resting place.

The Hills'.

Times like this, I can't help but think

how cruel the gods can be.

She was so vibrant and so alive.

Sorry, you were saying?

I want to confess--

Dad I miss her a lot.

That's really lovely, Tom.

She did have her quirks, though, huh?

Commando inspections.

Exciting.

2:00 AM phone calls.

Spontaneous.

You really understood her, didn't you?

Remember how she used to imitate you when you cried?

I always thought that was a bad dream.

And then, she'd laugh.

It was a sweet cackle, huh?

[cackles]

Oh.

You killed her.

You killed us all.

You were pretty funny back then.

Hey, I just had the best idea.

Nothing would make me prouder than if you

delivered her eulogy.

My god, even saying it makes me all verklempt.

Does that mean suicidal?

Stop it.

You're killing me.

JUDITH: Well, I hope you have great weather.

Hope a tropical storm hits.

Gillian's in Aruba.

Auntie Jean's getting Botoxed.

Everyone has some kind of excuse.

Can you blame them?

Can I ask you a favor?

Sure, honey.

Will you do Grandma's eulogy?

No, no.

I cannot do it.

Your dad said you were doing it.

Why can't you do it?

Because I killed her.

This was in her hand when she died.

You always were my favorite.

This isn't funny.

She was 89 years old.

That's what killed her, not some photo.

- So, I mean, should I tell Dad? - Oh, god, no.

The only thing telling your father will do

is make you feel better.

It certainly won't bring Grandma Lucy back.

At least, I hope not.

I mean, if you feel bad about killing your grandmother,

just think how bad you'll feel about killing your father.

Hm?

JESSIE: Your mother's wrong.

You still think I should tell him?

I meant wrong about you killing your father.

The more obvious outcome is that he'd kill you, a lot.

Well, I have to do something.

Because if this eulogy doesn't kill me, then the guilt will.

Calm down.

Do you know stress can take seven years off your life?

Thankfully, no.

I have to give a speech about a woman

that no one can find a nice word about.

It's not exactly soothing.

Her eulogy!

That's it.

It's not about apologizing to your dad,

it's about apologizing to your grandmother.

You know, the woman you actually killed.

I mean, not actually.

Yeah, I got it.

What better way to make amends than by doing

what no one else can--

finding the good in her?

What do you think?

Too gaudy?

You're the oldest grandchild.

Do you have any good memories of her?

Are you kidding?

I've got loads.

Like when she locked you in the closet

and told you to pretend you were an astronaut.

Hey, how did you go to the bathroom?

In my diapers.

Oh, like a real astronaut.

There must be some lovely stories about her

that don't involve feces.

I just have to look for them.

She called Immigration on me.

Is that anything?

Oh.

Doesn't he live next door?

I guess the gate was open.

You know, Phil, you've got your own backyard right there.

I didn't want to disturb your mother.

Besides, the gate was open.

JESSIE: Did you take that vitamin

pill I left by the sink?

Yeah.

Did you go to the colonic cleanse I booked for you?

The memorial is tomorrow, and I'm screwed.

Forgive me if I didn't feel like having my insides detailed.

OK.

Relax.

I am going to be condemned by this guilt

for the rest of my life.

I am, literally, having heart palpitations.

Give me your hand.

You feel that?

No, my cell phone's on vibrate.

[phone beeps]

It's a voicemail.

It's Gran, and she wants me to meet her.

She can't have you.

At the liquor store.

It's an old message from a week ago.

What's going on with you?

One of us is going to die first

and, apparently, it won't be me.

I don't want to live without you, that's all.

Think positively.

You could go first, crushed by a revolving

door, or choking on an M&M, mowed

down by a tractor on a hayride.

Oh, that's sweet, Tom.

But you know I suffer from hay fever.

And you're still getting that colonic.

For a second I forgot about tomorrow.

Now, I'm really having heart palpitations.

Have you noticed some odd developments around our yard

recently?

You mean Phil droppings?

Just tonight, he wandered into our kitchen

looking for ice for his mojito.

What's a cocktail without ice, really?

You know what he said?

The gate was open?

Mm-hmm.

You have to speak to him, Ben.

I can't say anything.

He got us that gate as a gift.

That's what the Trojans said.

TOM: The rabbit crawls under the log.

The rabbit hops over the log.

The rabbit gets crushed by the log and found by scavengers

and ripped to 1,000 pieces.

Hey, guess what?

I tracked down some of your granny's old friends

from your mom's list of mourners,

and they had the best stories.

I wrote some of them down in block letters on index cards

so they're easier for you to read.

"I will always remember Lucy for her kindness and care

for my poor dog, Buster, as he lay dying."

Where's the part where Grandma poisons Buster?

She didn't.

No, these are simply what they seem, lovely stories.

See?

She wasn't a total monster.

Judith, Could you let me know if this--

oh!

Hey, bro.

Phil, what are you doing in our bathroom?

Su casa, mi casa.

Sorry for steaming up the place.

I wanted to look spiffy for the big event,

and our water pressure is crap.

Besides--

Gate was open?

PHIL: Oh-- think you need a new loofah.

Hmm.

Get out your hankies because I'm

going to cremate this eulogy.

I'm glad you got your mojo back, MC,

and that Jessie took my advice. - Advice?

Yeah, about coming up with fake stories about your grammy.

Uh, probably should have told that after the speech.

Hey, Tom.

It's time, OK?

[funeral dirge plays]

Ahem.

Hi.

We're here today to celebrate the lovely Lucille

Bellow, my grandma.

As one friend recalls, even in her walker,

Lucy insisted on helping--

helping me-- me cross--

I can't do this.

Why not, Tom?

Because--

Because I stole those stories from "Reader's Digest."

And the fact that I killed her.

I'm sorry, Dad, but Grandma found a picture of me

and Jessie married that I hid in a book.

And it was clutched in her cold, dead claw.

Hand.

Hand.

The shock killed her.

I tried to make it up by saying nice things, but you know what?

She wasn't nice.

She was kind of petulant.

And anti-Semitic.

[organ resumes]

Finally, someone with the guts to say it to my face.

- You did hear what I just said? - Sure, I did.

You think hiding that picture was going

to keep it from my mother?

That woman had no concept of personal property.

Well, unless it was hers.

Of course, she had no compunction

about using Judith's toothbrush to brush her dog's teeth.

[laughter]

Sorry, honey.

Grandma Lucy wouldn't want us to sit around

and pretend she was nice.

I mean, this is the woman who walked

me to school with a harness.

No wonder I hated junior high.

Let's celebrate Grandma Lucy the way she would have wanted.

[MUSIC - THE BEAUTIES, "FASHION BLUES"]

She stole my candy when I was a baby.

I was a baby, so I didn't remember.

But she made sure to tell me.

Every year for Hanukkah, she gave me a rosary.

So generous.

She cornered me in the laundry room

once, helped me do my laundry.

She really knew how to separate the whites from the colors.

Well, that's the way she wanted to live her life.

Oh, Grandma Lucy was epic.

There won't be another like her.

Hey, you know, she did bring us closer as a family.

We owe her for that.

You did hear that I killed her, right?

I'm calling it self-defense.

To Grandma Lucy, a true original.

Here, here. EVERYONE: Here, here!

L'chaim.

"And for Judith, I leave this piece of advice--

don't wear red.

It makes you look like an overage hook--"

OK, there's a typo there.

Is there anything in it for me?

Yes, sweetie.

Where is it?

Yeah.

"As for Monica, she is my only hope."

Duh.

But is there anything in it for me?

Money? Bonds?

- Jewelry. - I already took her jewelry.

That's fair.

She already took mine.

BEN: Oh, here's something about you, Tom.

Listen to this.

"You may be wondering why I asked

to be sprinkled in your white trash neighbors' yard.

Beyond giving me a good chuckle, it's my gift to Tom.

There's a girl there I've seen over the years,

and I wanted to send Tom over.

If the boy has any balls, he'll know what to do.

Maybe he can avoid the mistake my son

made in marrying his Jewess--" Oh, god,

there's another typo there.

It's-- it's "Judith."

She actually wanted Tom and I to meet?

So when she found the picture, that means she died--

Happy.

And old.

So will I.

Oh.

Where's Grandma when you need her?

[crickets chirping]

Why on earth are you reading that?

It's my mother's last purchase,

the "Celebrity" cellulite issue.

I miss her. - I know, honey.

Oh, Ben.

She knew you converted.

Oh, my god.

I killed her.

[thunder rumbling]

[MUSIC - THE 1, 2, 3, 4S, "SAME OLD ROAD"]

Hey, Ben!

Open up!

I've got brownies in your oven.

Ben?

(SINGING) Pity me.

He said pity me.

I ain't God no time, I ain't got no money.

It's easy.

My talking talking myself back to your arms.

Walking, walking down the same old road.

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