Mystic Pizza Page #5

We talk, we read,

we listen to Mozart sometimes...

You really believe this 30-year-old guy

is gonna leave his wife for you?

You're livin' in

a f***in' romance novel, Kat.

Oh, yeah. Boffing, f***ing, screwing.

The great Daisy. Nobody's fool.

Why don't you start taking cash for

your services? It would be more honest.

Wipe your conscience.

Sh*t!

- Jojo. Pick up.

- OK, I'm coming.

OK, two lite beers.

This is my table.

Can we change that sausage

to pepperoni?

Sure. Why not?

Hey, Jo. Do me a favor.

Sit for Phoebe tomorrow?

Yeah, right.

Baby-sittin' for the baby-sitter?

I think I'm gonna puke.

Yeah, I'll do it, Kit-Kat.

- You know, I feel a little ridiculous.

- You're not scared, are you?

- Stormy nights?

- Kat, it's just a story.

We'll see.

Hope old Elias like pizza.

Come on, let's eat.

It'll be a shame

when they finish this place.

Yeah. We all wish

we could stop time, don't we?

Well, I'm afraid it won't work.

Soon you'll be at school.

Contractor'll take over from here.

Nikki comes home.

What was that?

- Elias Montrose!

- I told you so.

Wait here.

Run, run, run.

Oh, there they are.

How's your mother, Kat?

Did you get her the medicine in time?

Nikki.

- Welcome home.

- Thanks.

I was lucky. I caught that morning plane.

- Well, you look great.

- Yeah, so do you.

Hi. I'm Nikki Travers. You must be Kat.

Oh, I hope your mother's feeling better.

Well, thank you for everything

that you've done for Phoebe.

You're all she talks about on the phone.

She's a wonderful little girl.

Kat, we should really get goin'.

Cos your mom must want us back.

Nice meeting you, Mr Travers.

Nice meeting you, Mrs Travers.

Tim, aren't you forgetting something?

- Jojo, how much do we owe you?

- Oh, no. That's OK.

I don't need any money.

Thanks. Come on, Kat.

Kat, I didn't know what to say.

The doorbell rang, I thought it was you,

and there was this person

just standing there. I almost...

I almost peed in my pants.

I don't think she knows.

OK, all right, so he had his arm

around you. So what, right?

I mean, what if your mother had died?

He was just being nice.

People do that, you know.

She might know, though.

She looks really smart.

Holy sh*t, Kat. You don't think

she'd come after you or anything, do you?

No, she wouldn't do that.

I don't think she would do that.

Oh, God, Kat. Well, at least it isn't

your fault, you know. It's not your fault.

Oh, God. Kat, this is

really heavy-duty stuff here.

God, I thought I had problems,

but I mean, I do...

At least with Bill,

what you see is what you get.

But that gutless wonder back there -

he makes Bill look like

the catch of all time.

Don't wear my boots again, OK?

They're nice boots, Kat.

I'd like to keep it that way.

I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't use

my comb, either. It's full of scuzz.

Kat, are you alive?

What's the matter?

What happened?

- She came back tonight.

- Sh*t.

He just stood there.

He didn't even say a word to me.

It's all right.

It's gonna be tough,

but you're gonna be all right.

I just feel so stupid.

Why does it hurt so much?

- Let me get you a cup of tea.

- No, please. Please, just stay with me.

Kat! Order up.

Oh, 'scuse me. Sorry.

- Excuse me. This isn't cooked.

- Sorry.

- Hi. Ready to order?

- Yes, I believe I am.

The... Mystic Pizza.

I assume that's the house special.

Yes, sir. That's the special.

There's nothing like it.

And bring me

a fresh glass of water, please.

- Sure. Do you want some ice in it?

- No. No ice.

Leona, I need the best Mystic Pizza

you've ever made.

- Why?

- The Fireside Gourmet. He's here.

Look.

- So what?

- Leona!

- Take your pick.

- This.

Holy Mary, Mother of God.

Anything else, sir? A side of clams?

We have a wonderful small house salad.

No, thank you. Just the check, please.

The check? You're through?

Yes.

Here you go. I'll get a box

so you can take the rest home.

No, thank you.

Excuse me.

Somebody ought to ram

fried goat cheese up his ass.

Lobster for breakfast,

lobster for lunch...

F***in' lotta lobsters here.

Ma? I'm not gonna be able to

take you to the potluck tomorrow.

Charlie invited me to dinner

to meet his family.

- What do you think about that?

- Guess I could get a ride with Louisa.

- I mean about Charlie.

- He's not a Catholic.

Or a Portagee, or poor.

He's not a lot of things.

- He's not gonna marry you, either.

- Are you kidding?

Marriage? I'm talking about

dinner with his parents.

Sure. What do I know, anyway?

You think I always looked like this?

When I was your age, you think

they weren't sniffin' around after me?

Different clothes, same line.

- Only I had sense.

- Thank you very much.

Well, I didn't go jump in the back seat

of every sports car that came along.

- You're really good at this, Ma.

- At what?

Making me feel like sh*t.

I cursed.

Another mark against Daisy, right?

I curse, I'm stupid, I'm a slut.

All I want is for you

to make something of yourself!

Yeah? Well, I'm not gonna go to Yale.

You're just gonna have to deal with that.

I don't expect you to go to Yale.

I'm just so worried about you.

Yeah.

Me too.

Thank you.

Oh, it looks marvelous, Elaine.

Thank you very much. Thank you, Teresa.

Dig in, everybody.

Out of this world, Polly. It's so tender.

Mom, do you want my green stuff?

That's called the tomalley, Steamer.

It's the best part.

It's the sh*t, Steam. Don't eat it.

- Do you want a beer?

- No, thanks.

Anybody else?

- Daisy.

- Teresa. You work here?

I help out Mrs Windsor once in a while.

- You still waitressin' at the Pizza?

- Teresa?

- Yes, sir?

- How's your lobster?

It's really delicious.

Charlie didn't tell us that

you were in the pizza business, Daisy.

Mrs Windsor and I consider ourselves

pizza connoisseurs.

- Really?

- I worked in a pizza place one summer.

Up at the Cape. Remember, Mom?

There's nothing wrong

with being a waitress.

A noble profession, right?

Certainly a profession, at any rate.

- As opposed to what I do.

- Just what is it you do?

- Chuck...

- It's all right, Polly.

I so rarely get to meet a man of leisure.

Much less a close relative.

Well, I owe it all to you, Dad.

You gave me all the advantages

that you never had.

When Dad was my age,

he was a steampipe fitter.

- Show her the calluses.

- Cut it out, Charlie.

Who would like more

sour cream on their potato?

Oh, I do, please.

- I'm so sorry.

- It's all right, Teresa.

These Portuguese girls

are very hard to train.

I had one once who barely spoke...

- English?

- I didn't mean your friend.

- So what did you mean?

- Charles.

I'm just clearin' the air, Dad.

Aunt Tweedy...

You can't even train

your own husband to sleep at home.

And Dad's big frustration in life

is that he can't train me.

- Isn't that right, Dad?

- Charlie!

- Everyone knows I can't cut the mustard.

- You listen to me...

If you can't train a golden boy like me,

there's no way you're gonna train

a dumb Portagee.

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