TV Guide capsule for Saturday, Jan. 23, 1993:

9 PM Who's the Boss?—Comedy

Mona's fling is turning into something more, surprising everyone, including her. Meanwhile, a certain manuscript resurfaces unexpectedly.

Scene I: The Micelli-Bower living room, late evening

(Tony is grading homework, while Angela works on a campaign. She's wearing her current pair of glasses. He looks up and smiles at her.)

TONY: This is nice, isn't it? You, me, working at home, together.
ANGELA: (looking at him) Well, it would be nicer if we could just sit together and not have to take work home, but that's not going to happen with our professions, is it?

TONY: Well, no, but I remember when it was just you sitting with paperwork in front of you. And I'd be working, but it'd be dusting or vacuuming or something like that. This is better.

ANGELA: Oh, I don't know, it was kind of sexy seeing you lift furniture with your bare hands.
TONY: I would've rather have lifted you with my bare hands.

ANGELA: (mixture of flattered and embarrassed) Tony!

TONY: You looked so cute with your big glasses.

ANGELA: (shaking her head) Yes, they matched my big hair and my big shoulder pads. Thank God the '80s are over and fashion has gone back to normal! (Mona enters through the back door, wearing a NIN belly-shirt, a red & black plaid skort, tangerine-colored tights, Doc Martens, and crimped hair partly covered by a bandanna.)

TONY: Been raiding Sam's closet again, Mone?

ANGELA: Off to the sock hop, Mother?

MONA: (rolling her eyes) You two deserve each other. (The doorbell rings.) That'll be Richard. He's picking me up here.

ANGELA: Richard?

TONY: What happened to "Dick"?

MONA: We agreed that since you all seem to find his first name so amusing, it might be better to go with the more formal version.
ANGELA: Hm, that makes it sound like he's going to be around awhile.

MONA: I told you, Dear, it's just a fling.
ANGELA: Mm hm. And last week it was just a one-night stand. (The doorbell rings again.)

MONA: Do you mind? My date is waiting. (She crosses over to the front door and opens it to Richard "Dick" Johnson, who's wearing Converse All Stars, a red & black plaid flannel shirt, and overalls with one strap hanging down. His graying black hair now has frosted blond tips.)

TONY: (to Angela) It's so nice to see people aging gracefully.

ANGELA: Yes, in that timeless style.

MONA: Ignore them, Richard. They're just jealous that we're more fashion-forward than they are. (Jonathan descends the staircase, carrying a notebook.)

JONATHAN: (not batting an eye) Hi, Grandma. Hi, Mr. Johnson. (He goes over to the nearest chair, sits down, and starts writing.)

RICHARD: Mona, we really need to get going.

MONA: Of course.

ANGELA: I thought raves didn't start till midnight. (Mona rolls her eyes, then takes Richard's arm and they exit without saying goodbye.) Was it something I said?
JONATHAN: (without looking up) If it was a rave, they'd be wearing glitter.

TONY: Yeah, Angela, everyone knows that.
ANGELA: Right, sorry. (looking at Jonathan) Sweetheart, do you need some help with your homework?
JONATHAN: I finished my homework. I'm working on a script for Hank's puppet show.

ANGELA: Oh, I didn't realize you were still helping with that. I thought you cut back with basketball and everything else going on.

JONATHAN: Well, I still pitch in when I can, like when I went back to doing voices over Christmas vacation.

ANGELA: Oh. I'm afraid I haven't watched in awhile.

JONATHAN: That's OK. It's kind of a stupid show.

ANGELA: Jonathan! Or is that "stupid" meaning "cool"?

JONATHAN: No, I mean it's dumb. But deliberately dumb.

TONY: Yeah, all the kids at the high school love it.

ANGELA: I see. Well, maybe I should start watching it again.

JONATHAN: You're not missing much.

TONY: You don't sound very enthusiastic about it.

JONATHAN: (shrugging) It pays better than fast food or any other job a guy my age could get.

ANGELA: What's your script about, Sweetie?
JONATHAN: (embarrassed) Well, this is just a rough draft.

TONY: Hey, we won't criticize it harshly.

JONATHAN: No, of course not. When would anyone in this family make fun of someone else in the family?

TONY: Come on.

JONATHAN: (reluctantly handing the notebook over) Well, OK.

TONY: Let's see. (He clears his throat and then starts reading aloud the following in italics.)

TOBY: Come on, let me read it. [Tony glances at Jonathan who smiles sheepishly.]

ANGELICA: It's just a rough draft.

TOBY: I don't care.

ANGELICA: Well, all right. (She hands over a manuscript. Toby clears his throat.)

TOBY: (reading out loud) "He puts his hands around her waist and proceeds to—" What's this for, the Playboy Channel?

ANGELICA: You're reading it out of context.

TOBY: OK, I'll go back to page one. "Montague pulls her roughly toward him, his manly arms enveloping her. He caresses her neck and his hands run through her flaxen hair, while his fingers travel tremblingly down her spine to her—" What's this guy, an octopus?

ANGELA: (in a shocked whisper) Jonathan!

TONY: You know, there's something real familiar about this. Was it in The Muppets Take Manhattan or something?

ANGELA: No, it was in an unpublished manuscript called Love Slaves of the Suburbs.

TONY: Jonathan, you're plagiarizing your mother's dirty book?

JONATHAN: Oh! I thought it was Grandma's dirty book.

ANGELA: It's not dirty! And what do you mean Grandma's?

JONATHAN: Well, Bonnie found it lying around Grandma's apartment when she was cleaning—

TONY: Hold on, Bonnie was cleaning Mona's apartment? We're not paying her for that.

JONATHAN: Well, Grandma asked her, and you know how nice Bonnie is.

ANGELA: Never mind that part right now. Mother had my manuscript?
JONATHAN: I guess. I mean, it's in her handwriting, not yours.

ANGELA: Mine was typed!

JONATHAN: Well, I guess she was rewriting it.

TONY: That explains how Montgomery became Montague.

JONATHAN: No, I changed that. You know, like how your character is named Toby.

TONY: Yeah, no one will ever figure that out.

ANGELA: I don't believe this family! Mother plagiarizes me and then you plagiarize her.

JONATHAN: I prefer to think of it cogent satire.

ANGELA: Jonathan, go to your room!

JONATHAN: OK, I can work on the script better up there anyway. Fewer distractions.

ANGELA: You are going to have to come up with an entirely different scenario, Mr. William Goldman.

JONATHAN: Who?

TONY: Jonathan, just go.

JONATHAN: OK, OK. (He heads upstairs.)

ANGELA: (shaking her head) I don't believe this.

TONY: Me neither. I mean, I thought it was physically impossible before, but with puppets? (She just looks at him in disbelief. Roll opening credits.)

Scene II: Angela's office, the next morning

(Angela is sitting at her desk, looking through Jonathan's notebook, and shaking her head. Mona enters.)

MONA: You wanted to see me?
ANGELA: Yes. Could you close the door behind you?

MONA: Oh, it's one of those conversations again. (But she closes the door.) Look, Dear, yes, I went to a concert with Richard Johnson. And, yes, I'm going to see him again tomorrow night. But it doesn't mean anything.

ANGELA: No, Mother, I didn't want you to talk to you about your love life.

MONA: Thank God.

ANGELA: I want to talk to you about Montgomery and Roxanne's love life.

MONA: Who?

ANGELA: You remember Montgomery and Roxanne. They live in the suburbs.

MONA: Oh, that Montgomery and Roxanne!

ANGELA: Mother, how could you take an original story that I worked on for weeks and just—?

MONA: It wasn't that original. And as I recall you abandoned it when your publisher friend let you off the hook.

ANGELA: Well, I always meant to get back to it.

MONA: Uh huh. And meanwhile years passed. We got two new Presidents. Communism crumbled. Elizabeth Taylor got thin...got fat, got thin, got fat, got thin, got fat...

ANGELA: OK, OK, so I wasn't exactly devoted to it. But that still doesn't give you the right to take it and make it—

MONA: Better.

ANGELA: What makes you think it's better?
MONA: Get real, Angela. Who knows more about the steamy secrets of suburbia, you or me?

ANGELA: Well, I write for a living!

MONA: Not novels, Dear. While I have a degree in Psychology. I have insights into the twisted workings of the human mind. Clearly I'm the best suited to writing this story.

ANGELA: That's funny, because Jonathan seemed to think he was best suited to it.

MONA: Jonathan?
ANGELA: Yes, your maid found the manuscript—

MONA: Oh, yes, about Bonnie—

ANGELA: We'll get to that. She found it and handed it over to your grandson, who wanted to satirize it for Hank's puppet show.

MONA: That rotten kid!

Scene III: The Harpers' living room, evening

(Since we last saw the house, Sam et al. have settled in more, and the place looks more like a dormitory. She and Bonnie are doing homework.)

BONNIE: Sam, I really appreciate this.

SAM: Hey, I know how tough Professor Sternin-Crane can be.

BONNIE: It's kind of nice, you being a year ahead of me. It's like having a big sister.

SAM: (amused but touched) Aw! Well, I'll do what I can to help.
BONNIE: Can I copy your Psych term paper? (Sam looks shocked.) Kidding! (Sam shakes her head. Someone knocks.)

SAM: I'll get it. You keep working on that one Venn diagram. (Bonnie nods. Sam goes to the front door, opening it to Mona, who's dressed more like she usually is.) Hey, Mona! How was the concert?
MONA: (closing the door behind her) It was fun.

SAM: So it sounds like things are pretty serious with you and Dick.

MONA: It's Richard, and it's not that serious.

SAM: OK, OK, sorry I asked.

MONA: Bonnie, I need to talk to you.

BONNIE: Oh, did you get in trouble for me cleaning your apartment?

MONA: Not exactly.

BONNIE: Do you want me to talk to Tony and Angela about it?
MONA: No, Bonnie. This isn't related to that. Or not directly. I think you found a personal belonging of mine that I'd just as soon have kept private.

SAM: (shocked) Bonnie! I told you not to go snooping in her drawers.

BONNIE: Oh, this was lying right out on the coffee table.

SAM: (even more shocked) Mona!

BONNIE: I'm sorry, it's just I got curious and I couldn't help reading it—

SAM: Reading it?

BONNIE: Love Slaves of the Suburbs. It's really good!

SAM: Oh, a book. Mona is reading a dirty book. Well, I can't say I'm all that surprised.

BONNIE: No, she's writing it! Isn't that cool? And it's not dirty. It's erotic.

SAM: Oh, sorry. So what is it, Mona? Your memoirs?
MONA: Not exactly.

SAM: Can I read it?
BONNIE: You'll have to borrow it back from Jonathan.

SAM: Jonathan! Don't you think he's a little young to be reading erotica?

BONNIE: Well, he saw me reading it in the kitchen, and he was curious.

SAM: Angela is gonna kill you if she finds out.

MONA: She found out. But Bonnie isn't the one she wants to kill.

SAM: Oh no! So is she mad at you for writing it, Mona, or Jonathan for reading it?

MONA: No, not exactly. You see— (Al enters from the kitchen, eating an apple.)
AL: (with his mouth full) 'Zup?

SAM: Girl talk, Al.

AL: Then I'm outa here. Unless it's about hair. And that's just professional curiosity.

SAM: We'll let you know if hair is involved later.

AL: Thanks, Sam. (He goes back in the kitchen.)

MONA: The thing about the book is— (Hank descends the stairs.)

HANK: (looking around) Oh, uh, girl talk, huh? I'll give you some privacy. (He turns around and starts to head back upstairs.)

MONA: Hold it, Buster! (He faces forward again and slowly comes the rest of the way back downstairs.)
HANK: Hey, Mona, how's it going? So I hear things are getting pretty serious with Dick.

MONA: Will everyone forget about me and Richard?

BONNIE: We're just happy for you, Mona.

AL: (yelling from the kitchen) Yeah, he seems like a cool guy! (Mona shakes her head.)
MONA: Look, Hank, did you put Jonathan up to plagiarizing me? I mean Angela.

SAM: (shocked) That's Angela's book?

BONNIE: (confused) But it's in your handwriting.

SAM: Our Angela wrote a dirty book? I mean erotica.

AL: (still offscreen, impressed) All right, Mrs. Bower!

SAM: Al, you can hear better from in here.

AL: (reentering the living room) Thanks, Sam.

MONA: Look, Hank, when you made a man-hungry puppet named Rona, with red hair and great cleavage, did I complain?
HANK: No, you said you were flattered.

MONA: And I was. And unlike some people, I don't mind a little laughter at my own expense.

AL: (indignantly) He made my puppet out to be some kind of moron!

MONA: (deciding to ignore Al) The problem, Hank, is that neither I nor Angela want my grandson, her son, making fun of our novel on cable TV, even if it is local access.

HANK: Look, I didn't ask him to put anything like that in the show. However, it is really funny, so I'd like to keep it.

SAM: Hank!

MONA: Don't think that we won't sue you, just because we're related by marriage. And don't forget that my son-in-law knows people who could break your legs. And then there are the really painful forms of retaliation.

HANK: Mona, are you threatening me?
MONA: "Threaten" is such an ugly word. I prefer "blackmail."

HANK: Blackmail? You don't have anything on me!

MONA: Oh, don't I? (She exits dramatically.)

HANK: (uncertainly) Does she?

SAM: (quickly) So, Bonnie, about that Venn diagram.

HANK: Sam, did you tell her something about me?

SAM: Oh, gee, Honey, I can't remember.

BONNIE: Oh, is it about that thing with the—? (Sam shoots her a warning look.) Never mind. So, when the circles overlap—

AL: What thing?

SAM: Al, it's a very private, personal matter.

HANK: That you share during girl talk?

AL: Nothing to do with hair, right?

SAM: Al.

AL: Oh, I know, he's going bald!

SAM: No, Al.

HANK: Sam, which thing did you tell her?
SAM: Honey, not in front of them.

HANK: Bonnie knows!

BONNIE: Yeah, but Sam swore me to secrecy.

AL: A hairy back! No, wait, I've seen him without a shirt. That ain't it. Unless he shaves it. But, no, he'd have bad stubble. My Uncle Carmine used to—

SAM: Al, it's nothing to do with hair.

AL: Oh, I know! Yeah, but that's not that embarrassing.

BONNIE: Well, you wouldn't think so.

HANK: (shouting) What is my big secret? (Sam comes over and whispers in it his ear as he leans down to hear her.) Oh. Um, I better call my cowriter.

Scene IV: The Bower-Micelli kitchen, a few minutes later

(Jonathan is on the phone.)

JONATHAN: (with appropriate pauses) Actually, Hank, Mom just grounded me. No, I don't mind. I don't have much of a social life anyway. Yeah, I'm not even supposed to be using the phone. OK, I'll tell her, thanks. (He hangs up, shakes his head, and starts looking through the fridge. Someone knocks. Jonathan is startled, since usually people don't knock at this door, they just come in.) OK, am I allowed to answer the door? (The person knocks again.) Oh, what the hell, it's not like it'll be added to my punishment. (He opens the door to Richard, who's dressed normally.) Oh, hi, Mr. Johnson. Grandma's not here right now. She went over to Sam's but I don't know where she went after that.

RICHARD: That's OK. I need someone to talk to.

JONATHAN: And you picked me?

RICHARD: Well, I was actually hoping to talk to Tony, but you'll do.

JONATHAN: Uh, thanks.

RICHARD: You see, it's about your grandmother.

JONATHAN: Uh, OK. (The scene starts alternating with the living room, where Angela is working on the same campaign as the night before. Mona enters the front door.)

ANGELA: (distracted by her work) Oh, hello, Mother.

MONA: Angela, I've done a terrible thing.

ANGELA: You actually made a threat to have Tony's more unsavory acquaintances break Hank's legs?

MONA: All right, two terrible things.

ANGELA: Well, I already know about what you did with my story.

MONA: Those were good revisions!

ANGELA: I mean the plagiarizing and leaving it where innocent adolescents could find it.

MONA: OK, three terrible things.

ANGELA: (looking up at her) Sit down. This sounds serious.

MONA: (sitting next to Angela on the couch) Dear, I don't know how to say this but I— (She looks down and mumbles something.)

ANGELA: I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.

MONA: (as if it's painful to admit) OK, OK, I'm in love!

ANGELA: With Di—Richard?

MONA: Of course with Richard! Do you think I'm some kind of tramp? (Angela looks like she doesn't know how to answer that. (The scene switches back to the kitchen.)

JONATHAN: I don't know what to say, Mr. Johnson.

RICHARD: Jonathan, under the circumstances, I think you can call me Richard.

JONATHAN: Well, "Richard," what makes you think you're in love with my grandmother?

RICHARD: Well, I haven't felt like this in twenty-five years, since my late wife died. Since then, well, I've dated a lot of women. My son, Eddie, would try and matchmake me when he was little, but I wasn't looking for anything serious. It wasn't easy being a single dad but I managed.

JONATHAN: (nodding) Yeah, it was like that for Tony from what I've heard. Well, except he had a daughter instead of a son.

RICHARD: Right. In a way, I didn't want to fall in love again, because it would be like betraying Helen. But I can't help it, and I know it's only been a week, but I am crazy about your grandmother.

JONATHAN: (feeling out of his depth) Uh huh.

RICHARD: And the worst part is, Mona and I agreed it was just going to be a fling. (Jonathan looks really uneasy. The scene switches back to the living room.)

ANGELA: Mother, I know that ever since Daddy died, you've been just out for fun, and every time it looks like it might really lead to something, like with Max, you break away.

MONA: You've forgotten, Dear. With Max, I let my insecurities almost lead me into a hasty marriage. And then later Max dumped me.

ANGELA: Oh, right.

MONA: Not that I think that's going to happen with Richard. The man is crazy about me after all.

ANGELA: (smiling) Yes. (frowning) But if he was only looking for a fling and now you want something more—

MONA: (nodding) That's why this is so terrible.

ANGELA: Oh, Mother! (She embraces Mona like she hasn't in years, maybe since the episode where Mona went to her college prom. With Angela's pregnancy, she seems particularly maternal. Mona cries a little and Angela strokes her hair and murmurs soothingly.)

TONY: (descending the staircase with his briefcase) Honey-Bunny, I'm ready for another session of us bringing our work home and taking breaks together. (He sees Angela and Mona. He sets his briefcase down in a chair.) Uh, I'll come back later. (He heads towards the kitchen, so we cut back to that room, where Richard and Jonathan are still talking.)
JONATHAN: Well, I'm not even seventeen yet and I don't have much experience with dating. And even less with "flings"— (Tony enters through the swinging door.)

TONY: (sensing this is an awkward moment) Uh, I can come back later.

RICHARD: No, no, it's fine. Tony, I've made up my mind. I've decided to propose to Mona. (Tony and Jonathan stare at him, Tony particularly.) Or is it too soon?

JONATHAN: Look who he's asking.

TONY: OK, so seven years is a little long to wait.

RICHARD: Especially when you've been living with the woman.

TONY: Yeah, yeah, yeah. But seven days—

RICHARD: Eight.

TONY: Oh, excuse me. That's over a quarter of a month. But, yeah, it's rushing things a little. Especially since, well, you and Mona are just supposed to be, you know—

JONATHAN: Having empty sex? Oh God, I can't believe I just said that out loud!

TONY: Me neither.

RICHARD: I know. And I'm worried she'll dump me for getting so serious.

TONY: Look, I once had— (He glances at Jonathan.)
JONATHAN: You want me to leave?
TONY: Yeah, it would help. (Jonathan sighs and goes through the swinging door. The scene changes back to the living room, where Mona is now quietly weeping in Angela's arms.)

JONATHAN: Look, I'm not gonna write that script, OK? There's no need to get upset!

ANGELA: Jonathan Sweetie, could you go get us some Kleenex?
JONATHAN: Yeah, sure. (Back to the kitchen.)

TONY: Well, actually it was twice. Sort of. See, the first time, there was this girl from my old neighborhood. She grew up to be a gorgeous, successful lawyer. I went to bed with her the first night and I thought, you know, we could go out, maybe get serious down the road if it was going well. But then she proposed to me!

RICHARD: You must've been great in the sack.

TONY: (trying to be modest) Yeah, well. But that's not the point. I wasn't in love with her, and I had to face the fact that I probably would never be in love with her. And later, there was this other girl, when I went back to college, and, well, by that point Angela and I— (Jonathan enters.)
JONATHAN: Tony, where's the Kleenex?

TONY: Check the downstairs bathroom.

JONATHAN: OK, thanks. (He exits.)

TONY: I had feelings for Angela, but because she was my boss—You know about that, right?

RICHARD: Yes, Mona told me. She also told me she kept trying to matchmake you two.

TONY: Yeah, well. Anyway, I slept with this other woman. Biggest mistake of my life.

RICHARD: She wasn't great in the sack?

TONY: No, she had—That's not the point. I almost ruined what I had with Angela, and then this other poor girl, who I kept dating because I was so confused, she got a little attached to me and her father was expecting us to get married.

RICHARD: So what is the point?
TONY: The point is, Richard, you've got to be clear with a woman what you want, and what she wants. And if it changes for either of you, you've got to say so, even if you're not always sure what you want and she isn't either.

RICHARD: Tony, that's the most convoluted recommendation for communication I've ever heard.

TONY: OK, let me put it this way— (Jonathan returns.) What?

JONATHAN: I couldn't find them.

TONY: So blow your nose on toilet paper!

JONATHAN: It's not for me. It's for Grandma.

TONY: Mona is sneezing?

JONATHAN: No, she's crying on Mom's shoulder. (Richard leaps to his feet.)

RICHARD: My poor darling! (He races out the swinging door. Tony and Jonathan look at each other, shrug, and then follow him out. The scene switches to the living room one last time. Richard throws himself at Mona's feet, startling Angela.) My precious lamb! Why are you crying?

MONA: (sobbing) Because I'm in love with you!

RICHARD: (starting to cry, too) But I'm in love with you!

MONA: You are?

RICHARD: Yes, and I want to marry you!

MONA: You idiot! (She leans down and embraces him.)

JONATHAN: Wow, this is going to look great with puppets!

ANGELA: (warningly) Jonathan.

JONATHAN: Kidding, Mom. (Tony and Angela look at each other, shake their heads, and then look at Richard and Mona again. Cut to commercial.)

Scene IV: Tony and Angela's bedroom, later that night

(She's working on her account in bed, since she didn't get much accomplished earlier. Tony is offscreen in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He says something garbled.)
ANGELA: What? (He spits.)
TONY: I said, how about that? Your mother is getting married again, after all these years!

ANGELA: I know, I can't believe it. And I am happy for them, but I do think they're rushing it. I mean, not everyone has to take as long as we did, but—

TONY: I know. But at least they agreed to not rush off and elope. They are waiting a couple months, which is more than Sam did.

ANGELA: True. And by April—Oh God!

TONY: (appearing in the doorframe) What?
ANGELA: Tony, the babies are due in April!

TONY: Oh, that's right. Well, it's gonna make shopping for your matron of honor dress a challenge but—

ANGELA: It's not just that. I wish that she had waited for a less eventful time.

TONY: With this family? That ain't gonna happen.

ANGELA: (shaking her head but laughing) True.

TONY: (getting into bed and snuggling up against her) Mmmm.

ANGELA: What?
TONY: You were worth the wait.

ANGELA: So were you.

TONY: But you know.

ANGELA: What?
TONY: Well, let's say I didn't have such high moral standards and I went ahead and slept with my boss.

ANGELA: Yes?

TONY: You know, maybe as a way to distract you from sleeping with your boss.

ANGELA: Oh God, Grant! That was a mistake!

TONY: He wasn't great in the sack?
ANGELA: No, he had, never mind. I mean that it came back to bite me in the butt later, with Jim Peterson's ugly rumors.

TONY: See? Now if you had been just harmlessly sleeping with your housekeeper, you might still be President of Wallace and McQuade today.

ANGELA: Darn, if I'd only I'd known.

TONY: Live and learn, Angela, live and learn. (They kiss and the scene fades to the closing credits.)