Original subtitles

My name is Debbie Weaver.

This is my family.

This is our old apartment in Bayonne, New Jersey.

My husband Marty got us a deal on a town house...

Nicer neighborhood, wider streets.

Just one little problem.

Our neighbors are all from another planet...

Literally.

Hey, hon. I'm making shelf room for the turkey.

Do me a favor. Come here. Taste this.

- Went bad, right? - Definitely.

- I knew it. - And thank you.

What could be more american

than eating food to make room for more food?

Happy day-before-thanksgiving, babe.

Don't remind me.

- (mouth full) Listen, it's gonna be great. - No. It's gonna be like every other year,

where your father's gonna make you feel small and worthless,

and your mother's gonna judge everything I do.

And I just dipped this chicken wing into the cake icing.

Do you think I'm getting diabetes right now?

Look, my pop has nothing to rag on me about this year.

We got the new house to brag about, right?

I got the promotion.

Not wearing the goatee anymore.

- I hated the goatee. - Yeah, bring it on, daddy. (door opens)

Oh, is that a new painting?

I don't like it.

- Yeah. What's up, Larry? - Oh, it's nothing.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee has merely wandered out of our community.

Oh, my god. Is Jackie okay?

Perfectly fine. She's profoundly depressed.

Just this time of year reminds her

of when we arrived on your planet.

She starts missing her family. Blah, blah, blah. Lady feelings.

Anyway, she's wandering around in a field.

It's kind of our therapy.

There she is. Wife!

Enough pouting! Come!

- Larry, is this what you do when you're sad? - No, no.

I'm more of a prober.

Come on, pumpkin! Step it up!

(crow cawing)

S01E08 Thanksgiving Is for the Bird-Kersees

Sync by ninh www.addic7ed.com

Honey, did you figure out what you're cooking for tomorrow?

Who cares? She gonna hate it anyway.

I won't hate it, I just won't like it.

Hey. She meant grandma. Now apologize to your mother.

I'm sorry I don't like your bad cooking.

You know my mom likes traditional, hon,

- So don't even overthink it. - Oh, okay.

So when she takes the tiniest bite of the tiniest wing,

and she makes that face, and she says to me,

"maybe next year, dear," I won't overthink that, either.

Do we have to wear her stupid sweaters?

Hey, if I have to make her a turkey that she hates,

then you can wear the sweaters that she's made for you.

Why don't you just make the turkey how she likes it for once?

Don't you think I've tried that, Abby?!

It's just a turkey!

Whoa! Hey!

Come on. What's happening here?

They didn't even get here, and we're going nuts, huh?

Why don't we just not have them come this year?

Don't tease me, Martin Weaver.

Don't you dare tease me.

We deserve a nice thanksgiving, just the five of us,

- Eating whatever we want. - Say it again, you sweet, sweet man!

(laughs) Yes!

Wait. I know what we should do!

Let's deep-fry a turkey!

Max, yes.

You are brilliant! I don't care what the testing says!

An in-law-free, deep-fried thanksgiving!

Whoo!

Wait. What did the testing say?

Yeah! We're gonna do it! We're doing it!

I am canceling my parents! I'm a hero, honey.

I am a hero... (crack)

Ooh. Oh.

- Get him...get him. Take him from me. - Okay. Quick.

- (Max) Sorry. - All right.

Okay.

- High five. - Yeah!

(laughs) Ha...

Hello. What?

Yeah, dad, listen, I got... I got some bad news.

Theresa, come here. It's Marty with bad news.

What's wrong? Oh, you look puffy.

Yeah, thanks, mom.

Listen, I hate to do this to you guys on such short notice,

But, um, thanksgiving?

We have to cancel.

Because Debbie just texted me

that the the oven is broken.

(lowered voice) If her turkey's any indication,

it's been broken for 18 years.

We both know what this is about.

He's just embarrassed to show us the new house.

You're just covering the screen with your hand, ma.

I can still hear you.

(normal voice) We certainly will miss Debbie's delicious turkey.

Marty. Marty, what is this?

Is this because you're embarrassed of how small the new condo is?

Look, we can bring our own chairs if that's an issue.

Dad, I have my own chairs, okay?

And it's not a condo,

It's a nice townhouse.

Sorry.

(lowered voice) I knew it wasn't a real house.

I just didn't know what the proper term was.

It is a real house, dad. It's a real house.

(normal voice) Then why are you so embarrassed for us to see it?

I'm not embarrassed.

You know what?

You come tomorrow. You come see my nice house. How 'bout that?

Can we bring any chairs?

Whatever you want, ma!

(beeps)

(whirring)

(grunts)

Hey, Reggie Jackson.

So your mom's still pretty depressed, huh?

She really misses her sisters this time of year.

It must be hard having her family all the way back home.

Up home?

Oh, no. They're here.

- In the neighborhood? - Mm-hmm.

Boys, it is forbidden to discuss the exiled ones.

Jackie, you have sisters here?

Yes, I do.

However, my husband does not like my sisters.

You can say that again.

Fine. However, my husband does not like my sisters.

Well, I guess no matter what galaxy you're from,

in-laws are tough.

Mother, I wish I could cheer you up.

I know, my son.

But there is no magical event which brings families together to enjoy one another

while being thankful for what they do have as opposed to what they do not.

(sighs)

You're killing me.

Babe, we gotta talk.

Marty, whatever you do,

do not google "deep-fried turkey disasters."

Remember when we googled "tongue bumps"?

It's worse.

Look, I did something.

I did something, too.

- I invited my parents. - I invited the Bird-Kersees.

- No! - What?!

Me no? You no!

What happened to just us?

Okay, how are you gonna explain the Bird-Kersees to your folks?

Well, you know, they're better at blending in now.

And when my parents see a white guy

with a black lady, an asian kid, and a redhead,

they're not gonna be much into conversation, so...

- At last, an upside to racism. - Yeah.

But I won't give up my deep-fried turkey. I won't.

Look, no one's asking you to.

But we wanted this perfect thanksgiving.

Now we might just have to settle for "fine."

- Think we can do that? - Marty, we live in New Jersey.

I drive a minivan. I'm built for fine.

And now we know what to expect,

So there's no more surprises, right?

Nope. No more surprises.

(Reggie Jackson) Father would be furious if he knew what we were doing.

(cart powers down)

(beeps)

Brian Boitano. Greg Louganis.

- We must see the prisoners. - Do you have written orders?

Oh, of course, Greg. Come closer.

(grunts) There's your written order!

I'm the commander's son! I am the law!

Open it!

(beeps, whirring)

Ladies...

Although you've been exiled for attempting to overthrow my father,

our mother misses you.

Therefore, we come neither as judge nor friend,

but with a question...

Want to come to thanksgiving?

(crinkling)

Okay. Gammy and pop-pop just pulled in.

Kids, mommy apologizes now for everything she says.

(doorbell rings)

Here we go.

(door opens)

- Hey! - Hey!

You know, you got a crack in the pavement out here.

- What's that smell? - And so it begins. Hi!

Hi, gammy! Hi, pop-pop!

(laughs) Prettiest girl in the family by a mile!

- Thanks. - Thanks.

So, pop, I told you the house was nice, huh?

Let me give you the tour.

Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

I just took it.

Maybe a nice cold beer could take a tour of my mouth.

Right.

Who's ready for a sweater?

I got the patterns from rosie o'donnell's craft book.

For a lesbian crackpot, she does have some darling ideas!

Awesome!

I always wanted to wear genocide.

And, Maxy, here's your sweater.

And for my Abby,

I made the most special sweater.

(beeping and gobbling)

Here you go, pop.

What the hell is this?

It's a microbrew. The best money can buy.

(scoffs) Microbrew.

So I guess you're a raging liberal now, too, huh?

Yeah, I don't even know how to connect the dots on that one, dad, so...

(knock on door)

Uh-oh, son. You got some Jehovahs at the door.

They're our neighbors, dad. Be nice.

Come on in.

- This is my dad dominick. - Hello.

Greetings, Marty's father.

I am neighbor Larry Bird.

My wife, Jackie Joyner-Kersee, and my two sons,

Reggie Jackson and Dick Butkus.

Where are you folks from?

- Florida. - Downtown.

- I look asian. - My biological mother was a redhead.

I have often wanted to meet the man who birthed my friend Marty.

Ah!

You hear that, Marty? someone actually wants To spend thanksgiving with me.

Strong, commanding, and funny.

I like you, Larry Bird.

I bet you don't drink no new age nonsense beer, neither, huh?

Appalling grammar aside, I'm grateful I appear to be winning.

(Dominick chuckles)

Well, look. Gang's all here!

Theresa, these are our neighbors.

Oh!

Colorful. Fun. Hi. Where are you guys from?

- Mexico. - Midtown.

- My biological mother was a redhead. - I'm jewish.

Oh, god. (doorbell rings)

I believe our surprise guests have arrived.

(whispers) It's your sisters. My sisters?

Tell me you didn't.

Tell me you didn't disobey your father

And invite the greatest intergalactic threat

to my reign to this house!

(forced laugh)

So I think we're gonna need a second.

- Mm-hmm. - Uh, you guys,

Sit down over here.

All righty. Got a deck of cards for ya. Okay.

- (singsongy) Hey! - (singsongy) Hey!

- I'm Jackie's sister. - And I am Jackie's other sister.

- So, questions abound. - There's no time.

- Take them back to exile, guards! - Husband, please.

Please allow me to say hello first.

My sisters! (laughing)

Oh, I missed you two! Ohh!

So he's your sister?

Allow me to explain.

We chose these bodies because we learned

the most unique friendships on your earth are between of women of color...

- And men of prance. - Oh.

Reggie Jackson! You look exactly the same.

- How do you do it? - Black don't crack,

But asian doesn't even peel.

- Blam! - Blam!

I need to speak to my family alone. (inhales deeply)

Debbie Weaver, you may take your family and go to your basement.

Not happening, Larry.

Fine. Then I will go to the bedroom with my adopted, redheaded, jewish family

from Midtown, Mexico.

(exhales deeply)

(lowered voice) Do you two know how dangerous it was to let them out?!

They thought they were doing something nice.

Until you two try to overthrow me again.

Oh, hooker, please!

It was a misunderstanding!

You two threw me out of a second-story window,

shouting, "we are going to overthrow you," so...

- (whispers) Hooker, please! - Husband, I love you,

but they are my family, and it is one day, and they are staying!

You go, girl! That's my little sister!

Mm!

I hope you two are happy!

Families in conflict...

Amber described all of this to me.

It's beginning to feel a lot like thanksgiving.

Hmm.

(man) This thanksgiving day, hey!

Fried turkey. That's not a meal.

It's a prank on god.

(flatly) No, stop, Theresa. Don't go.

She's a hot mess. Life is too short.

And so are you.

(all) Blam! (laughing)

So, dad, dad, check this out, okay?

It's a 1080p, 54-inch plasma...

Oh, please.

Marty's father, would you agree

My wife should have chosen my side over her sisters'?

In an argument, she should do what you say,

or you'll wind up like Marty, with his wife calling the shots

and your stones in a jar.

(laughs) (forced laugh) Hey, that's real funny, dad. Real clever.

Aah!

Make it stop! (sweater gobbling)

- I'm losing my mind! - We have to kill the sweater.

Hey, mom and dad, we're so glad

that it's thanksgiving day

Theresa, enough. It's clean. We're not operating on it.

Let me help, Debbie.

Just because your children's hands are dirty

doesn't mean the table has to be.

You know what, theresa? Come after the turkey,

Come after my table, but leave my kids alone.

My kids are angels.

(Abby) Kill it! Kill that sweater! (sweater gobbling and beeping)

(Amber) Kill the sweater! (Abby screaming)

- Death to the sweater! - Kill it.

Death to the sweater! (screaming)

Death to the sweater!

- Wife. - Yes?

Marty's father says you should listen to me and get rid of your sisters.

Oh. Well, your wife says you should give her one day with her sisters,

who she hasn't seen in ten years.

So whose side are you going to take on this?

Definitely Marty's father. (gasps)

- (Abby) Kill it, Max! - All you do is complain.

Nothing I do is good enough for you.

Not just me, dear.

And maybe if you tried a little harder... (sighs)

Hey, mom, get off her back, okay?

She works harder than anyone I know.

She is an incredible mother, and she's a terrific wife,

and if you can't treat her with a little bit of respect,

then maybe you should go.

Fine. I'll be in the car.

At least it's clean.

Whoa, whoa!

You won't stand up to your wife,

and you talk to your mother like that? (door closes)

Oh, he stands up to me plenty.

And maybe if you took a break from criticizing everything he does,

you could say one nice thing to him.

It's nice to come here and get yelled at.

I'm gonna get another lady beer.

- Good. Go! - It's a microbrew!

You just had to invite your parents.

Okay, it's my fault. Always my fault!

Hey, mom and dad, we're so glad

that it's thanksgiving day

Thanksgiving sucks!

hey!

What are you doing, Debbie Weaver?

(mouth full) Just puttin' some food on my feelings, Reggie.

It's what we do.

Why do you let Marty's mother get to you?

Oh, Dick, that's adult grownup stuff.

Grownup? She's in the car pouting,

and you're eating mirsh-mallow out of a bag.

You're good boys,

So I'm gonna shoot it to you straight, okay?

Thanksgiving is hell.

The only good parts are the day before

when everything is possible,

and the day after when everyone goes home.

In between, it's just a feast of self-loathing gluttony

with a side of shame.

And all you can do is just hunker down and accept it.

(bag rustles)

Permission to board vehicle?

Sure.

(grunts) (door alert chiming)

(grunting)

(continues grunting)

(chiming stops) (groans)

Are you ready to join us for turkey ingestion?

(chuckles) It's sweet of you to ask,

But no.

It's just... Our family is complicated.

Why are you so hard on her?

I'm her mother-in-law.

And he's my only son. I want the best for him.

My mother-in-law kept me on my toes.

And her mother-in-law kept her on hers.

That's the game, kid.

She takes great care of him, and you make her feel terrible.

Change the game.

(perry como's "prayer of thanksgiving" plays)

(silverware clattering)

We gather together

to ask the lord's blessing

he chastens and hastens his will

(door closes)

to make known

I hoped there'd be a...

tiny wing left?

cease them from distressing

(silverware clatters)

sing praises to his name

he forgets not his own

(snaps)

(choir)

beside us to guide us

our god with us joining

Actually, Debbie, it's quite good.

It is? Really?

- (lowered voice) What's happening? - (whispers) It could be a trick.

Keep your guard up.

You've done a good job here, Debbie.

In the spirit of giving and admitting things,

my sister and I have something to say.

Larry Bird, I guess if looked at from a certain angle,

I can see how some would say we owe you an apology.

We never wanted to overthrow you.

- Yes, you did. - Yes, we did.

But the truth is, we did it because we just never thought

that you were good enough for our baby sister.

No one is.

Oh, that's so sweet.

Have we lost sight of the fact that you threw me out of a window?

Sort of burying the lede here.

So, uh, since we all seem to be mending fences...

What? What do you want?

You want a sweet sob story that ends with a big hug?

Fine.

Have I told you all the story about the time

that Marty here struck out in T-ball?

T-ball! Where the ball sits on a tee, not even moving.

That's just what I needed. That's perfect.

Happy thanksgiving.

And it's a big ball. It just sits there.

You... All right.

(voice breaking) We will miss you.

(voice breaking) I will miss you, too.

Hold on.

If there's one thing I learned from that insufferable meal,

it is that family is important, I guess.

My wife is... my entire world,

and my world misses her sisters.

So, against my better judgment and sense of self-preservation,

you two are released from exile.

(gasps) Ohh!

(laughing) whoa.

Maybe you are good enough for our little sister after all.

Really? So you'll stop trying to kill me?

Absolutely. Would you like a sip of wine?

Just touch the glass.

All you gotta do is just touch the glass.

(whispers) Don't touch it.

Touch it! (gasps)

All right, ma, we'll see you soon. I love you.

Well... Okay.

Uh-huh.

All right. Drive safe, dad.

You didn't let me finish the story.

'cause I know the story, dad. I struck out in t-ball, okay?

Kids all laughed. You got disappointed.

Rinse and repeat. I get it.

Stop cutting me off, numb nuts.

You struck out in frickin' t-ball,

Which is no easy feat.

And everybody was laughing at you.

Yeah, I know, dad. I remember.

Two innings later, you come up again,

you barely make contact. A lazy fly ball.

You trip on your way to first base.

I even think your pants fell. I don't remember.

No. They fell, pop. This is a great story.

Thanks so much for the trip down memory lane.

The point is, you didn't quit.

You never quit.

The sweet, sobby part of the story,

which you didn't let me finish, is that my son never quits.

Even if that means trying to get his jealous old man

to tell him that he's got a pretty nice new place here.

So you like... you like the place?

You did good, kid.

(exhales) (pats back)

Take care of yourself.

(Harper Simon)

Everyone seems so certain

You better crack a window, Theresa.

It's a long way home, and that turkey's going right through me.

Ooh. (engine starts)

Everyone's got a mother and a father

they all seem so sure they're going far

Congratulations, brother. You never give up.

There are more wishes than stars

Dick Butkus, you changed the game.

(laughing)

What about those sweaters?

- Oh! - Oh!

I still hear mine singing. (Debbie and Marty laugh)

And P.S.this fried turkey? Really bad.

- Disgusting. - Ohh!

- Greatest thanksgiving ever. - Yes, it was.

(moans)

(sniffs) Guys?

Something's burning in the backyard.

- The deep fryer! Call 9-1-1! - Uh-huh.

(Debbie) You just had to ask us for a deep-fried turkey!

(Max) I'm 8 years old, mom. Stop indulging me.

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