Mike & Molly

Hello my name is Harry and I'm an overeater.

Hi Harry.

Well I had an extraordinary week

and shed yet another pound,

which brings a grand total for the year

to a hard-fought and well-earned seven.

Thank you.

One lousy pound and he's acting like he won an Oscar.

Well buckle up buddy, cause I've lost three

and I'm going full-on Sally Field.

Anyway, Thanksgiving is upon us,

and with my newfound strength, I do not fear it.

Bring on your Turkey and stuffing, your mashed potatoes

and mouth-watering gravy,

your buttery Crescent rolls and pumpkin pie slathered

in pillowy clouds of whipped cream.

Wrap it up, Harry.

Course that won't be a problem for me this year

because my mother's going to my brother's house,

so my Thanksgiving will be a holiday lean cuisine

flavored by my salty tears.

We should invite him to our house.

You heard him, he's already got plans.

Thank you, Harry.

I have the in-laws at my place. Otherwise...

Save it!

All right. Well, we have time for one more.

Oh, that's me.

So, you probably got a full house at your place, huh?

Uh, unfortunately. Molly's family, my mother.

Boy, I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat.

Well, if you think it'd be okay with Molly, I'm game.

Hi, my name is Molly and I'm an overeater.

All: Hi, Molly.

Don't you hate it when people come up here and they, you know,

tell you they've lost a bunch of weight

and they had an amazing week?

Well, let the hating begin because this gal has lost

not one, not two, but three pounds.

If you wanna throw something at me, fruit and vegetables only.

Man: Grant me the serenity to accept...

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference.

Mike, what are you doing?

Nothing.

I smell nougat.

Keep your voice down.

No big deal. It's just one candy bar.

Well, there's no such thing as just "one" candy bar.

One is too many and a thousand is not enough.

Come on. A thousand could last a guy at least a couple of weeks.

Listen, you've got a problem,

and I'm volunteering to be your sponsor.

Hitch your wagon of weakness to my tow truck of willpower.

Right.

Nobody needs to know about this,

especially Molly. Besides, I'll be fine.

No, you won't.

Thanksgiving is coming up

and you need somebody right by your side.

Or across the table or boy-girl, boy-girl.

Whatever your seating plan is.

Hey, why'd you guys sneak out?

I got this.

Molly, your boyfriend has a problem.

Harry...

He asked me to spend Thanksgiving with you and yours,

and he didn't clear it with you.

Oh. Of course, you're more than welcome.

Will it just be you?

I don't know. The bulimic in the front row was

kinda giving daddy the sweet knees.

Just put him down for one.

one Denver omelet with buttered toast

and hash browns, extra crispy

and one cup of herbal tea, no honey, extra lemon.

Thank you.

What? I'm not hungry.

Yeah, and I'm not black, virile and handsome.

Ditto.

I had a piece of toast at the house.

Was it being used as a coaster for a honeybaked ham?

And you can't tell me you're not hungry.

Your stomach's been growling all morning.

It sounded like a grizzly bear

opening the door to a haunted house.

I'll keep a short stack at the ready

in case gentle Ben comes out of hibernation.

Hey, I'm just eating light

so that on Thanksgiving I can have a little extra stuffing

and maybe some dessert.

And there it is, the first lie of the holiday season.

God bless us everyone.

Let it go, okay?

Fine, I'm not gonna push it.

Oh, by the way, I'm bringing Christina

with me and grandma this year.

A date at Thanksgiving?

I thought you didn't like

to be "hamstrung by the holiday hoochie."

Well, I'm bending a lot of rules for Christina.

This is the woman I'm planning on ringing in the new year with.

Does she know that you wear the sash and the diaper

even when no one asks you to?

She will when the clock strikes midnight.

Geez, I'm starving to death.

I need more lemons. Samuel!

What the hell was that?

Sorry, I think I had a loose button.

Loose? It would've fallen into your lap.

That thing hit me in the head like a Chinese throwing star.

My shirt must have shrunk in the dryer.

Yeah, well, next time you might wanna climb in with it.

It's for your own good, Jim.

You need to quit chewing your ding-dong

like it's got peanut butter in it.

Thanks for holding onto these clothes, mom.

Saves me from having to buy new ones.

Well, it didn't take a magic eight ball

to know you were gonna put those pounds back on

and come a-knocking for your "chubby duds."

It's just temporary.

I'll drop this weight before Molly finds out about it.

Is that why you're starving yourself?

So she can parade you around in tank tops and skinny jeans?

Mom, my "skinny jeans" have 12 belt loops

and my tank tops are "tank tops."

I, for one, love you for who you are.

Unlike your fiancée who seems hell-bent

on turning you into a Chippendale dancer.

Mom, people have actually offered me money

to keep my clothes on.

And don't talk about Molly that way.

She only wants what's best for me.

All right, don't bite my head off.

Sounds to me like somebody's got

a bad case of the "hungry-grumblies."

You'd be grumbly, too,

if you were living on dry toast and lemon wedges.

Oh, my God, that awful woman is killing you.

How 'bout mommy makes you a nice bowl

of macaroni and cheese while you put on your big boy itches?

Probably wouldn't hurt for me to have a little something.

I'll slice up a few wienies in it.

That way you're getting your protein.

Thanks, mom.

Don't judge me. I've seen you eat cat poop.

You guys are gonna love these mashed potatoes.

It's a new recipe

that I found in my healthy living cookbook.

Mmm. All right? Oop.

Amazing.

Mmm! Sweetie, these are delicious.

And here's the kicker, they're not really mashed potatoes.

They're pureed cauliflower.

Yech. Blech.

Oh, come on! A second ago you loved it.

A second ago it was potatoes.

You tricked us.

I don't like that.

Sorry I'm late. My mom needed me to unclog her disposal,

and the thing blew coffee grounds all over me,

which is why I'm wearing this shirt you've never seen before.

Well, dinner's almost ready.

Actually, I'm not hungry. I had a late lunch.

A late, light, sensible lunch.

Not hungry? I've heard him say "not"

and I've heard him say "hungry,"

never the two together.

You don't think he's getting "fed"

somewhere else, do you? Stop it.

Like that big ol' Maine coon cat we used to have. Buster!

He'd come home late and walk right past his food dish.

That's right. The divorcée up the street was

giving him fancy feast, rubbing his belly

and calling him "Rodney." Mm-hmm.

I don't think...

And she wasn't the only one.

We had to tie a little bell around his neck

so we'd know where he was.

And he'd always come home just to sleep and go potty.

That's how I knew

he was eating three dinners a day.

His litter box started looking like an ashtray

at a Cuban card game.

Harry, you gotta help me.

I just ate two bowls of Mac and cheese at my mom's.

What does it matter if it's the packaged kind?

What matters is I ate it

right out of the pot with my bare hands.

Mike? Oh.

Who you talking to?

Nobody. Just, uh, checking my voicemail,

seeing if anybody called.

How are you?

I'm good. Everything okay?

Yep. Never better.

Are ya gonna answer that?

Yes, I am. I just didn't want to be rude.

: Hello.