"Hey." "Four more days till Turkey Day." "Who's excited?" "Obviously not the turkeys." "Well, if they want to die, they shouldn't taste so good." "This is for Thursday." "Kyle, that is so sweet of you." "Yeah, whatever it is, it's from me, too." "Just, it's my first Thanksgiving as a part of the family, and I want to contribute like everyone else does." "Even Boyd does those amazing hand turkeys." "I mean, what genius thought of that?" "Oh." "Yeah, no." "That's not from me." "So..." "So Kyle gets all the... credit?" "His name is Mr. Gobbles." "He was always the centerpiece at my family's Thanksgivings." "And no one else in your family wanted it?" "Even when everybody was fighting, you know," "Mr. Gobbles was always there to make me smile and feel good." "Aww!" "You never told me that story." "That's really sweet." "I can tell because it wasn't about me but I still got heart tingles." " Bye, Mom." " See you later." "Oh, you are ug-ly!" "What a day at work." "Hey, love." "How are you?" "Hey." "Hi." "Good." "Hi." "Oh, Boyd make that?" "Boy, tell you what..." "Art is just not that kid's thing, right?" "No, it's Kyle's." "Mr. Gobbles, meet Mr. Baxter." "Mr. Baxter, meet Mr. Gobbles." "Has Mr. Gobbles met Mr. Garbage?" "Have you..." "Have you talked to Chuck since he got back?" "I didn't know that he was back." "Yeah." "Carol said last night." "You might want to go over and see how he's doing." "Why?" "Because he just buried his father." "He might want to talk about it." "Why the hell would anybody want to talk about something like that?" "Well, Chuck might." "I mean, you're... you're his friend." "Eh..." "Listen, I talked to him before he left." "Said when he gets back he could take some time off." "I gave him the best possible gift... space." "You give that gift a lot." "Why do men keep everything bottled up?" "Well, because the best things come in bottles?" "Yeah?" "Beer, those little ships... light beer." "Why don't you take him this pie, huh, and just say hello." "You know, when my dad dies," "I hope people are sensitive enough just to leave me alone." "Hey, uh, Chuck." "Hey." "Hey, Baxter." "Carol said you were out in the garage." "I was." "Now I'm standing outside it." "Uh..." "H-How was the..." "Minnesota?" "Cold." "Yeah, that's Minnesota." "I-I brought you a pie." "Ah." "Yeah, what kind is it?" "Um..." "Apple." "So, um, listen, if, um, Vanessa asks, we talked, okay?" "Same with Carol." "Yeah." "How..." "How..." "You know, how, uh..." "Look..." "Look, man, I'm fine." "I'm fine." "My dad and I weren't close." "He's been sick for a while." "He's in a better place now." "An expensive urn." "Well, if you need any more time off, it's okay with me." "I'll take a few days." "Next June, at your cabin." "What are you doing out here in the garage?" "Oh, I'm just, uh, cleaning up an old car my dad left me, trying to figure out what to do with it." "Car?" "What kind?" "What year?" "Get out of the way." "Hold a second." "Looky there." "'63 Corvair Monza convertible Spyder!" "Ah." "You may not know the names of your employees, but you do know your cars." "Well, I like cars." "Can I open it up?" "Go ahead, yeah." "I had one of these, man." "I had the hardtop version of this, and Ralph Nader was wrong." "They don't flip." "You can't get 'em to flip." "Although, it would be a lot of fun." "Wow!" "I drove it back from Minnesota." "You drove a 50-year-old classic car 1,000 miles in the winter." "What were you thinking?" "Well, mostly I was thinking, "This car was not made for a man my size."" "You're more of the Bonneville kind of guy." "Boy, this thing would fit me like a glove." "Uh-huh." "So you give me a pie." "Now you want me to give you a car?" "Nah, I was talking about selling it, but I like your idea better." "I don't know, Baxter." "I'm not sure what I'm gonna do with it." "Well, this brings back some good memories." "If you want to sell it, I'd consider buying it." "I do enjoy taking your money, Baxter, which is really the only reason why I invite you to my poker night, but, uh, I think I'm gonna keep the car for now." "Uh-huh." "Hey, listen." "I'll be back to get ya." "And I would never drive you in the winter." "No, I wouldn't." "Stop talking to the car, Baxter!" "Is it a turbo?" "Yeah, yeah. 160 horse, four-speed." "Got the original top on it." "One owner, and that was his dad." "And Chuck drove it in the snow?" "You got to fire him." "We're firing someone?" "Let me do it." "It's been a while." "Who is it?" "Chuck." "Chuck?" "What are you, heartless?" "The man just lost his father." "We wait two weeks." "We're not firing anybody." "His dad left him a car, which I'd like to buy, but he doesn't want to sell it." "Everything in the world is for sale at the right price, which is why I own Richard Nixon's pitching wedge." "You know, he probably thinks you're trying to lowball him." "You know, there's a rumor you're cheap." "I know that 'cause I started it." "There's a rumor you're getting fired." "I know because I'm the boss." "I offered him 10 grand." "I think that's very fair." "10 grand?" "That's too much." "You're not cheap..." "You're an idiot." "Chuck's a proud man." "Probably thinks you made an overly generous offer because you feel sorry for him." "Could be." "I had just given him a pie." "Would you help me out here?" "Come on." "Do you even have to ask?" "No!" "Look, you buy and sell cars all the time." "You stop by, look at his Corvair, tell him what you think it's worth," "I'll offer him a fair price." "You're itching to buy something?" "I've got an historic pitching wedge for sale." "Really, Mike?" "Like you need another car." "I don't need it..." "I want it." "I want it, so I need it." "Capiche?" "It's like you with shoes, Mom." "No, you mean like you with shoes." "Okay, whatever, the point is it's like shoes." "Just like Mandy said, and I want this shoe." "I can't look at this thing another minute." "Yeah." "You know what, tonight Mr. Gobbles sleeps in the garage with the car running." "What have you done to Mr. Gobbles?" "!" "It was an accident!" "Tell her!" "Tell her, Mike!" "I don't know." "You hated Mr. Gobbles, Mr. Gobbles is dead." "I'm just sayin'." "Honey, it slipped out of my hands!" "Oh, don't you mean your claws, you monster?" "All right, look, look, look." "Don't..." "Don't tell Kyle." "I can fix this." "I just need some time." "Yeah." "And I just need a new pair of shoes." "I'm just sayin'." "Hey, Joe." "Come on in." "Hope you're here about the Corvair and not selling denim shirts door to door." "You could never pull off this look." "I couldn't because I'm not Cool Hand Luke." "Well, did you talk to Chuck?" "Yeah, I convinced him to sell the car." "I knew he wanted to sell that thing." "Well, what about the price?" "$8,500." "Saved me 1,500 bucks." "I say we go to the garage, get ourselves a beer." "Come on." "Actually, uh, I saved me $1,500." "I'm buying the Corvair." "Wow." "Y-You betrayed me." "You're like, uh, Benedict Arnold." "No, you're worse than Benedict Arnold." "You're like Tom Arnold." "I told you to go over there to get a good price, not to stab me in the back, you sneaky bastard." "In my defense, you never called dibs." "I said I wanted the Corvair." "Yeah, but you got to say "dibs."" "Everybody knows, okay?" "The first rule of dibs is you got to say "dibs."" "That's why it's called dibs." "Do you realize you spit every time you say that?" "I-I love Corvairs." "Why do you want this car?" "I don't!" "But I figure I can buy it, do a little work on it, and sell it to somebody who does." "You want to buy a Corvair in two weeks?" "You know, I kind of thought we were friends." "You called me a sneaky bastard." "You are a sneaky bastard." "What are we, 10 years old?" ""What are we, 10 years old?"" "All right..." "You're not getting that car, Joe." "Yes, I am." "I'm buying that Corvair." "If you want to buy it from me in two weeks, you got to call dibs." "You did it again." "Just a little spittle, right here." "This is rare." "I'm off on a Saturday morning, Boyd's at a sleepover." "Just two consenting adults footloose and fancy free." "Whatever will we do?" "Hmm." "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" "Oh, yeah." "Let's finish last night's Scrabble game." "Oh." "Oh, hey." "I, uh, thought you guys were at the craft fair." "And we thought you were sleeping in, but you're up." "Huh." "Hi." "And you're not alone." "Uh..." "Rob, this is, um, my sister Kristin and her husband, Ryan." "Nice to meet you." "Uh..." "We were just about to play Scrabble." "You're welcome to..." "No!" "Yeah, I'd better skedaddle." "You can use that word if you want." "I-I don't know what to say." "How about nothing?" "In fact, let's never speak of this again." "Hey, Chuck, got a second?" "Oh, for you, Baxter, I have exactly that." "Why'd you sell the car to Joe?" "Look, it just happened." "Nothing personal." "He offered me a fair price." "I offered you a fair price!" "And this is just to protect you legally..." "I called dibs." "No, you didn't." "That man has no concept of dibs." "Well, look who showed up..." "Mr. Sneaky Bastard." "Chuck, here's your check." "Before you sell him the car, remember, he's just gonna flip it and make a profit." "I like the car." "I'll keep it." "I'll take care of it." "Mike, you sound so desperate, okay?" "So sad." "I don't really care about the car." "Yeah, but if I get the car, it'll be in my garage and any time you want to see it, you can see it... as long as you call me up and I'm in the right mood." "No, thanks." "I-I spent my childhood working on that car with someone I couldn't stand." "It was your dad's." "It was." "And you know what?" "I think it should join him in the hereafter." "The car is no longer for sale." "I'm gonna have it crushed." "He's gonna crush it?" "That's... that's terrible." "For you." "He still has your check." "Okay." "Aah!" "Damn you, Mr. Gobbles!" "I will see you in centerpiece hell!" "Hey, we got everything on the list..." "Boyd did it." "Really, Mom?" "On the night before this sacred holiday, hmm?" "What happened?" "I am so sorry, Kyle." "I just..." "I dropped it, and... and I tried to fix it, but I can't." "I will find someone who can, someone who'll make it as good as new." "Mm, don't you mean "bad as new," 'cause you hated it so much?" " Mandy, you saw I dropped it." "It was an accident." " I heard the way you talked to Mr. Gobbles." " I didn't want..." " Stop!" "I made the whole thing up." "We didn't really have a centerpiece when I was a kid." "Well, an ashtray." "Kyle, why... why would you make that story up?" "I just..." "I wanted to bring something special to Thanksgiving." "So, I pretended it was full of great memories like you all have." "Oh, my God!" "Everything he says gives me heart tingles." "How much do I love this man?" "Kyle, you are bringing something special, something warm and kind and kind of weird in a special way... you." "Yeah." "You're our Mr. Gobbles." "Thanks, Mrs. B." "And you didn't need to take the blame." "I'm not gonna be mad at Boyd for breaking my centerpiece." "Hey, hey." "He's my grandson." "I had to protect him." "Hey." "Hey." "I'm just watching the game." "You need the TV?" "Uh, no." "It's cool." "Turn it off." "Interesting." "Look, uh, about the other morning..." "We agreed we weren't gonna talk about that." "Isn't keeping you word part of the hippie code?" "Yes, and so is speaking freely." "And I just think we need to set some boundaries." "Okay, so how about we find a place in the house I pay rent to live in, and you can leave me alone." "Look, you're an adult now, and I want you to be free to be you, but Kris and I aren't really comfortable with having some random guy spend the night." "Okay, well, I've been seeing Rob for a while, and he's really nice." "I mean, if you just got to know him..." "Hey, I'm not your father, okay?" "I sometimes wonder if I'm even the same species as your father." "Trust me, you're not." "The thing is, yes, you live here, but so does our 10-year-old son." "Oh, you're right." "Yeah, I did not even think of that." "It'll never happen again." "All right, cool." "Hey, look at us." "It went pretty good, right?" "Yeah." "We're cool." "Good." "So, next time, I'll just stay at his place." "Sorry, his place?" "I don't even know this kid." "Huh?" "What?" "I mean, who is he, does he have a job, who are his parents?" "Okay, now you're starting to sound like my dad." "No." "No, no, no, no." "I am just a guy who knows what it's like to be a guy." "Trust me, I'm one of the good ones, and look what I did to your sister." "I'm getting very uncomfortable." "I got her pregnant and I left." "That is horrible." "Okay, this is horrible." "Where is this all coming from?" "I don't know, okay?" "I-I guess I worry about you." "Well, don't." "It's weird." "I can't help it." "Look, I know we insult each other a lot." "Well, mostly you just insult me." "But, you know, I care for you." "You're kind of like my little sister." "Yeah." "Thanks." "And you're kind of like my big sister." "I am sure that he is a good kid." "But if he ever hurts you, I will hang him from a deer-gutting rack and eviscerate him." "Now, that sounds like your dad." "It's good to see you're okay." "Oh, and you, too, Chuck." "That was a little embarrassing at work today, man." "Oh, come on." "That was nothing." "One time Ed woke up from a nap, he's wandering around the store in a daze." "And he naps shirtless." "Still, I'm sorry, even though I did have my shirt on." "So, maybe this, uh, car is something you should talk to somebody about." "No." "As a matter of fact, I'll do anything not to talk about it anymore." "Take it." "Just pay me whatever you think it's worth." "I don't want the car, you know, not until you tell me why you hate this so much." "I mean, this thing could be haunted." "Be sitting in my garage, and all of a sudden, your dad shows up, starts talking to me." "That's some freaky stuff." "Yeah, you don't have to worry about that." "I spent every Saturday as a kid working on this car with him." "Trust me, if he does show up, he won't say a damn word." "Hm." "My dad used to take me fishing during the season, get me up early, and we'd go up there and fish in the same spot... same damn spot... up in Clear Creek." "Yeah, well, it's comforting to me to hear how wonderful your dad was." "He'd never say a word... the whole trip." "Casting a line... nothing, except a grumble every now and then about my rattail." "It was the '70s." "I had a big-ass afro, which, apparently, was always blocking the damn light." "One time I faked sick." "My mom came and took my temperature." "She didn't buy it." "She looks at me and she goes," ""You know, maybe the reason your dad doesn't talk to you is 'cause he doesn't know what to say." "But do know that he just likes spending time with you."" "What the hell's the matter with fathers of that generation?" "They could never say what they felt." "Have you enjoyed the last few minutes?" "Look, Brandon's coming home for Thanksgiving, right?" "Yeah, Carol's picking him up at the airport right now." "Kids these days, all they know about cars is you plug them in." "Doesn't know about American classic with the rear engine, unsafe at any speed." "Maybe you can tell him about this." "Yeah, maybe I could show Brandon a few things." "Or just sit with him, you know, ask him how school's going." "If Vanessa asks, we didn't talk." "Same with Carol." "Have a nice Thanksgiving, Larabee." "You do the same, Baxter." "Hey." "I took your advice." "Brandon and I worked on the Corvair together." "Which means I probably got to fix something, right?" "No, I didn't let him touch anything." "But, you know we talked the whole time, and I'm really starting to like that car." "Well, I hate to lose it, but the good news is here that Joe doesn't get it." "Excuse me." "Uh, Chuck?" "Oh." "Yeah?" "I just want to say I'm sorry for your loss." "Mm-hmm." "I hope this helps." "Oh." "An old golf club?" "It's Richard Nixon's pitching wedge." "So, you know you can cheat with it." "Oh, well, thank you, Ed." "That..." "That's..." "That's very thoughtful." "It's all right." "Just don't use it on the course, all right?" " That's a piece of history." " Okay." "It's also a piece of crap." "Hey, Chuck." "Chuck, listen, uh..." "Big fan of Nixon, right?" "I'll give you 100 bucks for that thing." "I don't know." "Maybe I'll sell it to Joe for $75." "Dibs!"