97g: Mayor Rudolph Giuliani / Sarah McLachlan
Rita's Mom.....Mayor Rudolph Guiliani
Mike the Cop.....Colin Quinn
[ open on Rita Delvecchio's Kitchen - Rita preparing Thanksgiving dinner as the phone rings ]
Rita: [ answers phone ] Happy Thanksgiving! Hi, Bella! Oh, yeah, you kidding? I got a full house going! Ah, some are watching the game, some are planning their next crime - don't listen, Bella!
Nephew: [ runs into the kitchen ] Uncle Joe would like a beer!
Rita: In the fridge, baby, in the fridge.. [ into the phone ] How's yuor turkey, how many pounds did you get? Yeah? How long did it.. [ hears her nephew open the beer and sip it ] Okay, that's it! [ chases him out of the kitchen ] No more kids getting beers for adults! Okay!! Any kid who can't walk a straight line by dinner gets my foot for dessert! [ back to the phone ] Ahh.. no, my mother's down in the basement, I don't know what the hell she's doing down there. Hey! Listen, what's the update on Frank Sinatra's help? Let me hear. [ lights candle in front of Sinatra shrine above her microwave ] You're kidding! Hold on, one second.. [ yells into the living room ] Everybody! Frank sat up! [ the family cheers, Rita returns to the phone ] Alright, baby, I gotta go. Talk to you later.
Bye bye! [ Rita's Mom pops out of the basement carrying a crate of sodas ] Ma! What the hell are you doing down there, don't carry that yourself! What, are you crazy?
Rita's Mom: The kids need more pop!
Rita: The kids are smashed, Ma!
Rita's Mom: No, they're not. They're just happy.
Rita: Just sit down, Ma.
Rita's Mom: [ flops into a chair ] Alright, alright, I'll finish
stuffing the shells. When was the last time you basted the turkey?
Rita: Three minutes ago, Ma!
Rita's Mom: Rita, where did you the ricotta cheese to stuff these shells?
Rita: I don't know.. Tony's.
Rita's Mom: How could you support Tony's store?!
Rita: I know, I know.. when he spends all his money buying high-class jewelry for his girlfriends..
Rita's Mom: His poor wife's walking around in a rabbit fur poncho.
Rita: It don't affect the cheese, Ma!
Rita's Mom: It does if you cook it with love, like I taught ya.
Rita: There's love in there. Keep beating. Keep beating.
Niece: [ runs into the kitchen ] Aunt Rita, we're starving!
Rita: [ pushes her niece out of the kitchen ] Yeah? So are Sally Struthers' kids! Now, go upstairs! Finish watching "The Sound of Music" upstairs! And stay away from Grandma's moustache cream - it's poison!
Rita's Mom: It won't hurt e'm! Let 'em have fun. [ notices Rita's stirring in the pot ] Martha Stewart says not to stir while you simmer.
Rita: Martha Stewart. If I hear Martha Stewart tell me how to cook one more time, I'm gonna shove a cornish game hen down that WASPy bitch's throat!
Rita's Mom: She's bad! I hear she doesn't pay her bills - and she's single. There's a surprise.
[ a knock is heard at the kitchen door - Mike the Cop enters ]
Mike the Cop: Hi, Rita! Hi, Mrs. Sylvestri. Happy Thanksgiving. [ kisses Rita's Mom on the cheek ]
Rita: Happy Thanksgiving, Mike! Ma, you know Mike the Cop?
Rita's Mom: Sure, sure. Did ya eat?
Mike the Cop: Not yet. My wife forgot to thaw out the turkey, so we won't be eating 'til after the Rose Bowl.
Rita: [ explaining to her curious Ma ] She's Irish.
Rita's Mom: Oh-h-h..
Mike the Cop: Rita, I hate to bug you about this, but you gotta get rid of some of those Thanksgiving decorations off your lawn, or I'm gonna have to give you a citation.
Rita's Mom: Who called? Who called to complain?
Rita: I know who it was, Ma - my neighbor, Therese de Castiglione! The one with the see-through housecoat. Yeah, you oughtta give her latest hairdo a citation, that ugly pain in the ass!
Mike the Cop: Come on, Rita! You know it's not me!
Rita's Mom: She knows. Don't worry, baby. Grab a piece of pepperoni and go in the living room with the guys!
Mike the Cop: Thanks. [ grabs a piece of pepperoni and retreats to the living room ] Sorry, Rita..
Rita: That's okay.
[ the sound of something hitting the house is heard ]
Rita's Mom: What the hell was that??!
Rita: What now?! What now?! [ runs onto her porch to inspect ]
Sheesh! It's the head of my Miles Standish! [ yells at the distant kids ] You mothers have no respect your forefathers, you know that! Guess what? I keep it! It's mine! Wait a second.. it is mine.. Oh, yeah? Keep running, 'cause the next time I'll kick you in your Plymouth Rocks!
Rita's Mom: You heard her, you pill-poppers! Spoon-cookin' bastards!! [ Rita's Mom's Mayflower is tossed onto the porch ] They broke my Mayflower!
Rita: Go get 'em, Ma! Show 'em what you're made of! [ Rita's Mom runs outside to take care of the delinquent kids ]
Rita's Mom: [ hobbles back ] Great! I threw my shoe! Now I'm out a wedgie!
Rita: Come on, Ma, it's Thanksgiving. It's a day to think about
what ya got.
Rita's Mom: You're right, Rita.. And I'm gonna have a dry turkey on my hands if you don't baste it, for crying out loud!
Rita: Ma! If I baste it anymore, I'll be committing a sin.
Rita's Mom: Why?
Rita: 'Cause I'll be a Master-Baster! Ma!
Rita's Mom: Oh, Rita, you're bad!
Rita: Aw, Ma, you set me up, you bitch! I mean.. Ma! Ma!
[ they kiss and return to preparing the Thanksgiving feast ]