So he should take this with every meal, or else--
I need to see Dr. Coleman.
Ma'am, do you like those pearls not choking you?
Now, if so, you need to wait your turn.
Perhaps you'd prefer if they were choking you.
Rizzo. Rizzo!
What is wrong with you? I haven't seen you like thi--
Oh, no.
Now, tell Dr. Coleman that Virginia is here to see him.
- I'm his-- - Mother.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
1x05 Who's Afraid of Virginia Coleman?
Well, George, just look at this place.
It's almost like a real hospital.
How long do you have to do this
before they let you work on humans?
In the future, please make an appointment.
There were animals ahead of you.
Oh, please. So some schnauzer
got to enjoy his testicles an extra half an hour.
What's the big deal?
When did you get a cat, anyway?
Five years ago.
It was a birthday gift to myself.
Someone had to give me something.
Anyway, if we saw each other more than one day a year,
we might be able to talk about things,
like... pets.
We could also talk about ways I could kill myself.
- Don't you have a regular vet? - Of course I do.
But, you know, he made a pass at me.
Normally I'd be flattered by that kind of thing,
but really, who wants to date someone
who spends half their life
with his finger up a dog's keister?
Speaking of which, are you seeing anybody?
Just my therapist.
So how does Cat look?
You named your cat "Cat"?
All right. How creative.
I guess I should be happy my name's not "Baby."
It was until your father butted in.
"The boy has to have a name, Virginia."
Really, he could be impossible.
Well, like me, Cat has discharge
coming from his ears.
But with him, it's probably from an infection.
I will run some tests.
Well, if you need a second opinion, ask the Asian.
They're very good with tests.
It's fun having an office together, right?
Totally.
I am getting my own, though, right?
Yeah. As soon as one comes up.
I really want you to be happy here, Jill.
It's a fun environment.
I'd like to say we put the "ha" in "hospital."
Ah, case in point-- it's free lunch Friday.
The winner gets to pick the restaurant.
Come on, Arby's!
Oh, man, red lobster again?
That's Mr. Wesley. He's on the board.
Oh, my God, I wonder what he's doing here
okay, how do I look?
You are asking the wrong girl.
Right now, I'm wearing a pair of boxers
that some guy left at my place last night.
I thought you gave up anonymous sex.
If I do that, the Craigslist killer wins.
Okay. Okay. I'll be back.
Hey. Whoa.
You look like a Paul Giamatti movie, man.
You been here all night?
Yeah, Doug. While you were at home
watching The Biggest Loser,
I was investigating mysterious pigeon deaths.
Eight pigeons in one week.
You know there's, like,
a billion pigeons in New York, right?
I mean, chances are way more than eight
of them died last week.
- Look at this. - Okay. Oh.
Each one of these pushpins represents a living pigeon.
Oh, so that's where all the pushpins in the world went.
Look at the Plaza on 59th street.
- Yeah, what about it? - No pigeons.
So what? What are you getting at, yams?
Somebody is poisoning these pigeons,
and I'm gonna stop them.
Are you in, or are you out?
Definitely out. Yeah.
I recommend that you be out too.
You're turning your back on pigeons, huh?
Well, you disgust me!
If my mouth wasn't so dry, I'd spit right in your face.
What? Why?
Yams... What--
Wow.
Yamamoto is like Yamamoto squared today.
Mm-hmm. You didn't hear it from me,
but I overheard him on the phone this morning.
His wife kicked him out.
- No. What? Really? - Yeah.
Mr. Wesley, please, come in.
Have a seat... In my chair.
Ms. Crane, in your short tenure here,
this hospital has become slack.
Productivity is low.
Your break room resembles a Charles e. Cheese.
Well, I like to think that we put the "ha" in "hospital."
That makes no sense. Hospital is spelled with an "O."
We wish you were more like your grandmother.
She ruled with an iron fist and an acid tongue.
Woe be the nurse who disobeyed her fearsome command,
I can tell you.
I know that I may run things a little differently,
but I can assure you it is just as professional.
Rizzo, give me my claw.
You already ate my cheesy biscuits.
Rizzo!
It free lunch Friday, so...
It's wacky.
So that's his mother.
I always assumed he was grown in a lab.
Mother? George, we dated for two and a half years.
You told me your mother was dead.
Dead, Upper East Side, same thing.
Why would you do something like that?
I was protecting you. She senses weakness.
Like a vulture swooping down on a sickly wildebeest,
my mother would pick you apart piece by piece.
Okay, cool. She's dead.
George, you think your mother is bad?
Mine had me doing beauty pageants at age four.
My mother took me out of a school I loved
because the principal had, "gypsy eyes."
My mother slept with my principal, and we had to move.
My mother said the reason my father left us
is because I was too clingy.
My mother once took me to a dump,
let me play in a busted refrigerator with a dead mouse,
- and told me it was Disneyland. - Seriously?
No, I just got caught up in the moment.
Either way, I just got to fix her cat,
find her a new vet, and get her back out of my life.
Hey, I got the blood work back on your mother's cat.
Well, look who'some for a visit.
Come in quickly--you're letting in the stench of ethnic food.
No one likes the smell of your pierogies, Mrs. Kazanski!
I see you're still chairman of the welcoming committee.
Fix me a drink, would you?
You remember how I like it, don't you?
Straight vodka in a tea cup? Yeah.
I think I can figure that out.
Listen, I'm here about Cat.
How is he? He's all right, isn't he?
He has a brain tumor, and it's malignant.
I'm sorry. The prognosis is not good.
He's all I have.
If something happens to Cat,
who'll keep me company during my baths?
Let's move on to chapter five, George.
And remember, Trop of Cancer needs
to be read with emotion.
Of course, if Cat does pass away,
I'll need you, George.
I'll need you more than ever.
You know what? Sometimes miracles happen.
I'll see what I can do.
If you have any trouble, ask the Asian.
George...
Oh, Virginia,
I thought I heard you out here.
How's my little kitty cat?
Well, my son took a look at him.
It's like your veterinarian said--
he's probably gonna die. I'll let you know.
You were so kind to volunteer
to take him for a second opinion.
- Ugh. - Okay, we'll talk later.
People...
We, here at Crane Hospital
have saved many an animal--
the albino mountain gorilla, the endangered snow leopard,
the freshwater dolphin.
But today comes the most important case
of our collective careers...
My mother's cat.
Aw. - No, no, no.
It's not an "aw" moment. I want her out of my life.
And the only way to do that is to save this cat,
for if it dies, I will be sucked in
to fill the lonely void in her pathetic life.
And there aren't enough vodka-filled tea cups
on the Chinese-Russian border to make that bearable.
George, she's bad, but she can't be that bad.
- Well, she's mean. - Well, you're mean.
Well, I'm fun mean. She's mean mean.
So let's go. All hands on deck.
You know you're never gonna win that staring contest, right?
George, what was my grandmother like as a boss?
She was the best.
No one ran a hospital like Eleanor Crane.
But you're good too. Yeah.
Grammy...
How'd you do it?
It was hard
because I'm a painting.
What is this place?
This is my grandmother Eleanor's office.
She passed away about a year ago.
Wait a minute. Does that mean this office is open?
I never really felt worthy enough to take it over.
The board loved her.
They don't think I can measure up.
What do you think?
I mean, you hired me. I think that was pretty genius.
Did you know that I went to Columbia law school?
And then I dropped out to start a bakery.
I've failed at everything I've tried to do.
I can't fail at this,
or else I'm gonna be some 30-year-old flake
living with a pig
and not even one that I can marry.
I live with an actual pig.
So make this place work. Kick some ass.
I don't kick ass. I nurture ass.
Well, it looks like your grandmother
really ruled this place with an iron fist.
I mean, that is an ass kicker right there.
You can do it.
Yeah.
I can do it!
That's a thumbtack.
Aha. There you are.
What are you doing sitting in the back of a running cab?
Be cool. I'm on a stakeout to catch the PPK killer.
The what?
The pigeon poison killer. Keep up, Jackson!
Yams, I'm getting a little worried about you, man.
Are you sure there's not something
- you want to talk to me about? - Over there.
That slimy degenerate-- that's our guy.
Let me see.
That's an old man feeding pigeons!
Oh, I wish I could live in your candyland world
of Teddy bears and footy pajamas.
- Let's move! - Hey, that will be 150 bucks.
- Cover me, Jackson. - Huh?
What the hell?
Where's the foosball?
Where is my "Daschunds do it better" magnet?
Where's the nespresso machine?
I had it all removed.
Yes, there were far to many distractions in here.
It was really affecting productivity.
This is a break room, not a productivity room.
Yeah, we're nurses.
We're not nurses/people who are productive all the time/
nurse--
I want my magnet back!
You took Rizzo's dart board!
Okay, you've left us no choice.
Nurses...
We're officially on slow-down.
What's slow-down?
Oh. Oh, okay.
You're literally slowing down.
Wow, that's clever.
Nice day, huh?
Oh, yeah, it's a beaut.
Yes, sir, it sure is.
I'm sick of your games, punk! Talk, damn it!
Stop. Calm down, calm down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sir.
My friend is a little worked up.
Oh, good, Jackson. Good cop, bad cop.
- You're poisoning pigeons! - It's just stale bread.
Well, then you won't mind if I have a little taste.
You're right. It's just stale bread.
But what else are you hiding? Cavity-search him!
What? I'm not doing that. No.
Yams, calm down, okay?
- They're just pigeons. - I will not calm down.
These pigeons were trying to be the best husbands they could.
But they've been ignored, berated, and mocked sexually.
And God forbid they forget to TiVo Smash.
Who's going to pay for the bread?
Cover me, Jackson!
Okay, nurses, I get it. Your point has been made.
Back to work, chop-chop, at regular speed.
You... heard... her...
Nurses.
Chop... chop.
Fine, have it your way,
as long as all of the work gets done around here.
Get... her... done!
Really, Rizzo? I expected more out of you.
Well, the surgery's over.
Well, I'm sure you did your best.
Now it's time for me to move on.
Why don't you come over later and we'll plan the funeral?
Then to get over my grief, perhaps a little cruise--
the Caribbean, maybe Copenhagen.
Here, I'll just leave the brochures.
Mother, wait. The cat survived.
What?
Well, I thought-- it's just, heh...
He was so sick.
I thought he was beyond saving.
Well, it's a happy day. Pay downstairs.
And if I don't see you, have a great Thanksgiving,
Christmas, and birthday.
George...
You are an excellent veterinarian.
What are you looking at me like that for?
I'm just waiting for the insult.
- There's no insult. - There's always an insult.
Not today.
I'm very proud of you.
Yeah, I heard you guys were doing a slow-down
to torture Dorothy.
Slowdown? This is my usual work speed.
Hey, what's the matter? You look bummed.
For the first time in my life,
my mother told me she's proud of me.
My mother told me she was proud of me
when I won little miss Newark.
Of course, she took it back when I tested positive
for performance-enhancing drugs.
Her cat died before I could even perform surgery.
He was too sick. There was nothing I could do.
What? I just saw her walk out of here with a cat,
and it seemed more alive than she does.
I got another tabby at the West Side shelter
and passed him off as hers.
Oh, that is dark!
Like "a clown eating peanut butter alone in a closet" dark.
Well, I guess I'm gonna have to--
Fake the new cat's death.
Then everything will be back to normal.
I was going to say tell the truth,
'cause if I don't, I'm gonna feel guilty
for the rest of my life.
Of course, if I do, I'll be reading
high-brow erotica to her for the rest of her life.
All right, if you change your mind
about the "fake cat death" thing,
I know a guy.
It's me.
Hello, George.
What are you doing here?
There's something I have to tell you.
It's about Cat.
Where is he, anyway?
Oh, he's somewhere around here...
Scratching, eating lasagna,
you know, doing cat things.
Want some tea?
No, thank you.
I'm performing surgery this afternoon.
Listen, Cat is not who you think he is.
The truth is, he died before surgery.
What?
I went to a shelter, replaced him with a similar cat.
I was trying to spare your feelings.
We both know the truth of the matter, George.
You would go to any length to avoid spending time with me,
just like your small-penised father!
Please don't conjure that image again.
I need some tea... and a son that doesn't loathe me,
but mostly the tea.
You know, these are silk pillows.
I'm amazed that Cat hasn't shredded 'em.
He's very well behaved.
There's no cat hair on this sofa.
- I don't let him up there. - Now that I think about it...
- I don't smell a litter box. - He's potty trained.
- What are you trying to get at? - You don't own a cat, do you?
You've never owned a cat.
Fine. It's the neighbor's.
But I was helping her!
I can't believe you lied to me.
- You lied to me too. - You lied to me first.
- You lied to me worse. - You never change.
You wonder why I stay as far away from you as I can?
Fine. Walk away! I hope I fall in the tub,
and you find my cold, dead, wet body!
I take it you saw the blood work results, huh?
Yeah, no poison, just a simple Coryza virus.
I may have overreacted.
Yeah, it's possible.
Um, look, I get that it's hard to be a pigeon,
but pigeons need to remember
that they have friends that are there for them.
What I'm trying to say is,
is that if any of these pigeons ever need a place to stay
or someone to talk to or watch a movie with--
whatever it is, I'm here for them.
So you wouldn't mind a pigeon stopping by
without any warning, sleeping in your spare bedroom,
even for a few weeks?
No, not if that's what the pigeon needed.
Thanks, Doug. That means a lot.
- You got it, yams. - So this is Charlie.
He needs ointment applied every three hours.
You know that when we were talking about pigeons,
we were talking about you, right?
- We were? - Yeah.
I was getting lost in the metaphor.
I heard about what's happening at home, okay?
Now, if you need to, you can move in with me for a while.
- Thanks, Doug. - Oh...
You got it, buddy.
Fair warning-- I like to free-ball it
at the breakfast table.
Why do you say stuff like that?
What's the big deal?
She's a lonely old broad who tried something a little shady
to get closer to her son.
Are you actually defending her?
You have a mother who's just as bad
who you don't deal with.
I never said that. I see my mother every week.
What? Why?
You can't just walk away when they do something crazy,
like fake-own a cat or light your dad on fire.
The point is, at the end of the day,
your mother's still your mother.
Your grandmother always had the good stuff.
Looks like, uh, we could use some, hmm?
Uh, no, thanks.
That bourbon's been sitting there
for at least a year.
You don't understand bourbon, do you?
Figures.
I can't run a hospital like her.
I guess I can't drink like her either.
Why would you want to run this place like Eleanor?
Uh, because the board loves her
and her loveable yet iron fist.
I don't know where you're getting your information.
The board hated your grandmother.
No, they didn't. They can't stop singing her praises.
Dorothy, they loathed her.
Look, she kept all the old memos from the board.
We used to read these for fun.
Here we go. "May 7, 1962.
"We understand you are a woman,
"but even by those low standards,
"your incompetency is shocking.
"The staff, mostly comprised of beatniks and Catholics,
- woefully neglect their duties." - Wow.
I know. Can you believe we used to hire Catholics?
They hated her, George. They hate me too.
I guess I'm more like my grandmother than I thought.
I think I can make this work.
Yeah, you can,
'cause you care about this place as much as she did.
Just run it your own way, Dorothy, hmm?
Except when it comes to me. I still do whatever.
Whoo! I'm on my fifth espresso!
Yeah, that was, like, my sixth double shot.
That's like ten regular shots.
I'm freaking out, man. Cool.
Looks like the slow-down's over.
Yeah. I'm done trying to be my grandmother.
Good for you. Then there's no way
that you can keep using her office, right?
Oh, why, I haven't really thought about it.
Great. I will take it.
It's the least you can do for the awesome advice
I gave you that totally backfired. Bye.
You got me a turtle.
Well, I didn't want you to be lonely.
Thank you.
I guess you'll be off, then.
You know, turtles are pretty hearty animals,
but, uh, just in case...
I'll come by to check on him once a month.
I think he could stand to be looked at twice a month.
I don't think he could stand that.
How about once every three weeks
and your birthday and Christmas?
That would be lovely.
I'll name him... Turtle.
I had a feeling, yeah.
- Good night. - Good night.
See you tomorrow.
Where's Rizzo?
Oh, he's doing me a solid.
Oh, okay.
Somehow, this just isn't the same.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com