Come on, Joe.
Buff that sucker.
What'd I teach you?
Sanitary.
Is Joe applying for a job
in a train station in 1940?
Just teaching him a few things
every man should know.
Someone has
to get in there early,
or sometimes the kid
turns out funny.
Knock, knock.
Hey, Phil.
Hey, guys.
Phil, in here!
You ready
to tackle your website?
I know
I'm here a little early.
I thought
I was gonna be ...
Do you recognize that?
Are you kidding?
I love your sauce.
Some of it fell out
of my burrito last night,
and I licked it
right off the remote.
That's Auntie Alice's
new sauce!
She stole my recipe!
I know.
I am the crazy Colombian
that always loses her temper
and needs to be calmed down
by the white people.
No! I don't think
you're being crazy enough.
I'm not a violent man, but
I know how nuts it can make you
to create something special
only to have it stolen from you.
Do you remember
a hit song called "Happy?"
Yeah, it was
like a couple of years ago
with the clapping
and the hat.
A couple of years ago, huh?
So a full four years
after this burst on the scene.
Sounds just a little similar,
right?
A little, but ...
Thank you!
But do you think
that he saw this?
Um, it had 27 views.
Come on. We're going
down to that market
to make that old bat
cease and desist.
I will not stand idly by
while Auntie Alice
Pharrell Williamses you.
Where are you two going?
To the market.
We need olives!
And then when the lights go out,
she'll be able to read
the glow-in-the-dark ink
on your T-shirt.
Oh, my God.
She's gonna love it.
She? Who's she?
What are you guys
working on?
Nothing.
Oh, okay.
I get it, yeah.
He's ... I'll just be down
in the bedroom, you know,
at the end of the ...
at the end of the hall.
Hey, thanks
for your help.
I really like this girl,
and there's
just so much pressure
to do something spectacular
when you ask a girl out to prom.
Is there something wrong
with your air vents?
No, Cam breathes through
his nose when he hides.
A promposal?
To who? Laurie Vock?
Oh, no.
She's Ian Jacobs' girl.
Melanie Rylance?
You have to be careful with her.
She has more cold sores
than Abby Burmeister.
But seriously, Luke,
everything you say here
is completely confidential.
Oh, you know, they are looking
for chaperones for prom,
and I thought
maybe we could ...
No, we have tickets to the
opening of "Cabaret" that night.
I'm not missing it
so I can tell some teenage girl
to keep her dress on.
I spent my own prom
doing that.
Okay, can I just point out
the absurdity
that you ask this uncle to
advise you and not this uncle,
who hung a Valentine's banner
outside of his office
that said, "Mitchell,
you're the best husband,
father, and lover."
Didn't love all three of those
being rolled into one sentence.
Sounded a little Ozark-y.
No, Cam. Stop.
What?
Luke's just looking
for an adviser
who's a little
more understated
and a little less,
you know...
David Stuart.
Oh, I get it.
He's quite gay.
Yes, I got it.
Okay, well, you know what?
I would hate to muck up
your promposal
with my flair and panache.
I'm sure the lucky girl
will swoon with delight
when you use a mustard bottle
to write "Wanna go?"
on her turkey burger.
Hello?
There's an intruder
in the house.
What?
But you have
nothing to worry about
with Pritchett's
Guardian 3000 Closet,
which doubles as
a military-grade panic room.
So no intruder?
No!
I'm just so excited
about this idea.
I'm debuting it
next week at ClosetCon.
What do you think?
I think
I'm studying for finals.
Can't you scare the crap
out of a focus group?
Like I'm gonna share
my best closet idea
with a room
full of strangers
four days before
the most hotly anticipated
storage convention
in North America.
Good point. You do have
Haley's number, right?
Alex Dunphy, would you make me
the happiest cat in school
and swing by prom
with me?
Sha-Na-nope.
Hey, Jerry.
For some reason,
I'm locked out of my computer.
Apparently, someone tried
to access my e-mail
before I got in.
Someone hell-bent
on leaking company secrets.
It is four days until C-Con, and
Pritchett's Closets has a mole.
No one is above suspicion.
Margaret, where were you
this morning at 9:45 a.m.?
I'm so sorry I was late.
I was
at Overeaters Anonymous.
I woke up
next to the ice cream again.
So not Margaret.
I know
who that locker belongs to.
I can't believe you're asking
that cheap Ho to the prom.
Cam!
Sarah Ho!
She gave me a $5 gift card
for Teacher Appreciation Day.
What's with the birds?
Oh, these are
just some turtledoves
for Manny's promposal.
You're joking.
You felt so slighted
over Luke asking me
that you foisted yourself
on Manny?
There was no foisting.
I asked Manny
if he needed help.
He was too proud to admit
that he did, so here we are.
Is it possible there's something
deeper going on with you
around this whole prom area?
Is it possible
you're second-guessing
your no-frills approach?
Especially compared
to turtledoves, backup dancers,
and dry ice so Manny can appear
in a cloud of mist.
A cloud of mist?
Like in a movie?
Is our thing
gonna seem lame now?
Steady.
Now, now.
I'm sure your thing is fine.
What did
your little locker note say?
"Go to the gym."
Intriguing.
What delights
await her in the gym?
Another note telling her
to go to the parking lot.
Well, I should help Manny
set up.
Should I be worried?
Don't freak me out right now,
okay?
Okay. All right.
It's fine.
Just fine.
You don't have to use it,
but at least you'll have it.
Hello, Auntie Alice.
Or should she say
Auntie Malice?
No, Gloria's right.
It's Alice.
I didn't know
you were in today.
You're in ...
trouble!
Is he okay?
You stole my sauce!
What?
Uh, I'm sorry.
Maybe you don't hear so good.
She said, "You... stole...
her... sauce."
Wow.
That's spicy.
That's not the sauce
she stole.
That's her Volcano sauce.
In her ad, one drop
turns a hockey rink
into a swimming pool.
It's her new sauce, the one
that tastes just like mine.
How are you going
to explain that?
Yeah, we want answers
and a little bread.
Your fight's not with me.
I'm not really Auntie Alice.
Oh, come on.
Your cute face
is in the bottle!
Auntie Alice is a brand that was
created by a big corporation.
So they were the ones
who stole my sauce?
They steal
all kinds of products.
And they have
an army of lawyers
just ready to crush
anyone who challenges them.
So we just have
to take it?
Ow!
It's in my eye!
Oh!
Please don't repeat any of this,
or I could lose my job.
I'm still paying off
my improv classes.
How is this food?
This will
probably be yours someday,
so no reason
you shouldn't learn to do this.
Does Manny
know how to change oil?
Bath oils.
What?
Bath oil?
There's my guy.
Let me grab the dipstick.
This stick?
Ow!
Manny. Okay.
I just briefed the team.
Dry ice is ready.
Bow ties are on the birds.
Save it, Cam.
Megan already said yes
to Shawn Reeves.
He asked her last period.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Manny.
Can't really blame her.
I mean, you try saying no
to Shawn Reeves
with his weatherman smile
and his exotic Canadian accent.
Well, there must be
someone else you can ask.
No, that's okay.
There's always next year.
At least this way I can see
the opening of "Cabaret."
Oh, please.
It's just "Cabaret."
It's been revived more times
than Dick Cheney.
Okay.
You're not missing your prom.
Cam...
I'm getting the feeling
this is much more important
to you than it is to me.
Well, maybe because
I didn't get to go to mine.
Oh. I'm sorry.
Yeah, it's a painful story.
I get it. Some things
are better left unsaid.
Her name was Tina Day.
We were just friends,
but I was so into asking her,
I rented a white stallion
and a suit of armor.
I wanted it to be a whole
"knight and Day" theme.
Hm.
I was promposing
before it was even a thing.
I rode up her driveway,
and I could see
when she opened the door
through the little slits
in my helmet
what her answer
was gonna be.
She wanted
a traditional prom night
with a guy
she could lose her virginity to.
I couldn't blame her.
I wanted the same thing.
There's always
Melanie Rylance,
but you wouldn't want me
to ask someone ...
Delta, ready the dancers
and dove cannon.
Poor lady.
I feel terrible for screaming
at her like that.
I blame myself.
I blame yourself, too.
I'm sorry.
I'm just kind of
going through something.
I got bumped from Lily's
career day this morning
by a periodontist.
That's right ... My job is
less interesting that root rot.
Who cares about a bunch
of third graders?
You love
being a real-estate agent.
First of all, I'm not
just a real-estate agent.
I'm a Realtor.
I'm a member of a national
association, a brotherhood,
sworn to
the Realtor Code of Ethics!
That's what
this "R" stands for.
Though, lately, it feels
like it stands for "regret."
I know everything there is
to know about real estate,
and nobody seems to care.
Maybe I have the most boring
job in the world.
No, Phil.
Closets is the most boring job
in the world.
Ay, poor thing.
She has to take the bus.
Let's offer her a ride.
Yes, yes.
A Maserati?
She lied to us!
iSeguila!
No,
that means "follow her."
Oh.
Hello?
Hey, Mom.
How do you turn on the
sprinklers for the front lawn?
Uh, it's a little control box
by the front door.
Why?
No reason.
Look, now that I've got you
on the phone,
I'm thinking it might be time to
upgrade our Internet security.
Thoughts?
Get rid of the Post-it note
on your laptop
with your password on it.
Why are you so worried
about security?
It's my first ClosetCon
as C.E.O.,
and I am dealing
with corporate espionage.
Well, if you're so worried
about it,
why don't you
just call Grandpa?
Do you know
how that would look?
I mean, it's bad enough
to go to the person
who had your job before you,
but when that person
is Daddy...
Honey, closet people
are ruthless.
They'd eat me alive.
Or maybe the world isn't filled
with heartless monsters.
Hi.
My phone is wet.
Can you call my mom?
Hey, guys.
Sorry I'm late.
I just got off the horn
with Rick Friedman
over at Shelf Involved.
That poor guy.
Someone there has given away
corporate secrets.
Makes me so glad
that we just upgraded
our whole security system.
I mean, we got hidden cameras
around this place
that I don't even know about.
So, we got a cake
for Margaret's birthday.
Mm-hmm.
Fun.
How you doing, Ben?
Me?
I'm good.
I am good.
I am chill.
I'm gonna go
to the bathroom, so...
It's not really my birthday.
I just wanted cake.
I eat garbage
because I am garbage.
Hey, Dad. Hi.
Um, listen.
Can I call you back?
Just wanted to confirm
we're on for dinner at ...
Oh, got another call.
One sec.
Yeah,
I think she's onto us.
Yeah, a lot of mole talk.
I think we just need
to calm things d...
What?
You're talking to her
right now?
Yeah, okay, bye.
So, we're on for tonight?
Sure.
Great.
And, hey,
you sound a little tense.
Don't let the job
make you crazy, huh?
You go that route, soon you're
seeing plots everywhere.
Great tip, Dad.
Aah!
You're spying for my dad!
What? No!
Yes. I'm sorry.
I don't know why I agreed.
I just look up to your dad
so much.
I can't believe
he doesn't trust me.
Why did he put me
in charge, then?
I don't know,
but I can find out.
I'll double-agent.
I've been working this game
since my parents' divorce.
I was the only 10-year-old
in Great Neck
with no bedtime
and Diners Club card.
Fine. Don't make any plans
for tonight.
You're coming to dinner
with me.
All right.
Um, can we stop by my house
to change my shoes?
I didn't make it up here
on the first try.
All right,
the dove cannon's loaded,
the dancers are stretching,
the dry ice is billowing.
The moment you get her outside,
I will cue the team.
Oh, there she is.
Okay. Go.
All right, team.
Look alive.
We are hot.
Hey, Melanie.
Listen ...
Manny.
Do you want to go
to prom with me?
Uh, sure.
Oh, hey.
You got a second?
Yeah.
Yeah, I'm second.
You're first.
I get it.
You win everything.
That seems like something
I'm gonna hear about later.
I need help
with Luke's promposal, okay?
Can you go to the gym, wait for
Sarah, and then hand her this?
Okay, this is
what I've been reduced to?
Yeah.
Delivering an
unperfumed envelope
like a common bellhop?
Fine.
Thank you. Okay.
Stand down, everybody.
Little Bear's gone rogue.
Wait.
Grayson! Hey.
Hey, Coach.
Hey.
Don't suppose you're planning
on asking anyone to prom.
Um, I don't think we're allowed
to go with teachers.
That's not what...
So, this is the house
that stolen sauce built.
I'm so angry that
I don't even know what
I'm gonna say to her!
Ah, so,
this is the house
that the stolen sauce
built!
Oh, I know what you're thinking,
but this isn't my house.
I just come here
to get my paycheck.
Grandma,
my shower's broken.
I'm gonna use the one
in the guesthouse.
Whoa.
Please be
my new piano teacher.
Fine.
I'm Auntie Alice.
Auntie Thief
and Auntie Liar.
Yeah, yeah.
I'm sure
we can work something out.
Who's your patent lawyer?
I don't have one.
I know.
I patented your sauce
this morning.
Have a good trip home,
kids.
I am so sorry, Phil,
that I wasted your whole day,
but I am more sorry of
what I'm gonna do to your car!
Gloria,
we're above that.
But not everyone would be.
You should put that beauty
in your garage.
I don't have one.
Oh, really?
Just out of curiosity,
do you not have a garage
because you converted it
into the guesthouse
where your grandson's
currently showering?
What's your game, mister?
I just find it interesting
that you have
a fully plumbed stand-alone
dwelling on your property.
That's none of your business.
Even more peculiar, your
grandson appears to live here,
but judging by his T-shirt,
he goes to Eden Mills High,
an elite public school 12 miles
outside of your district.
Oh, maybe with the money
you saved on private schools,
you paid for the new two-sided
brick fireplace I saw,
which hasn't been legal
since 1988.
Go, Phil, go!
Pull the sauce, Big Al,
or Monday morning, the city's
here with a bulldozer,
and your grandson goes to
a school with a metal detector.
How do you know all this?
What are you ... some kind
of real-estate agent?
No.
He's a Realtor.
There is a difference somehow!
Oh, hey, kids.
Actually,
I'm waiting for Sarah,
so if I could have the room
for just a ... a minute.
Thank ...
Okay, funny.
Whoever turned out the lights,
please turn them back on.
They're not working.
Might be a fuse.
Oh, um...
Mitchell,
we have a problem.
No, we don't.
I mean,
unless you're busy that night.
Are ... Are you
asking me to prom?
Well, you know,
they need chaperones.
Mitchell, this is the
sweetest thing you've
ever done for me.
I-I don't know
if I've mentioned it,
but I never got
to go to my own prom.
It's come up.
What about
Luke's promposal?
Well, your husband, who
couldn't plan anything romantic
with a gun to his head,
may have pulled off
two promposals at once.
Mm-hmm.
Hey.
Do you have any idea
who put that note in my locker
asking me to be
a part of this thing?
Oh, yeah,
it was my uncle.
It's pretty clever
how he turned out the lights.
I said,
"Turned out the lights"!
Oh, my God!
Yes!
Oh! That's so sweet.
I...
And I can't believe
I'm finally going to prom.
I can't believe
I finally have a happy memory
in a high-school gym.
Joe did that to you?
Yeah.
Slammed a car hood on it.
Why?
I owed him money.
It slipped while I was
teaching him to check oil.
Well, that's pretty advanced
for a 3-year-old.
What can I say?
I believe in my kids.
Thank you. Mmm.
Mm.
Looks good.
Thank you.
Mm-hmm.
Very nice.
Let's quickly
go over the plan.
My dad's gonna be here
any minute.
Mm-hmm.
We're doing this
in stages.
One finger
means you text him
"We're closing
the blinds division."
Our biggest earner?
He's gonna lose it if I tell
him we're shuttering blinds.
Two fingers, we're partnering
with Rod Bushmill.
That sleazebag represents
everything your father
spent an entire career
fighting against.
Three fingers,
we're not going to ClosetCon.
Wha...
Are you trying to teach
your father a lesson
or crush his soul?
Just business, kid.
Monster.
Looks good.
Thank you.
Mm-hmm.
So... with all this prom stuff
coming up,
is your house
as topsy-turvy as ours is?
Not really.
Manny's taking this girl.
She's nothing special,
but solid.
Mm.
Reliable.
A lot like
our blinds division.
You know ...
not sexy, but ...
No, Dad.
No shop talk.
You've had enough of that
for a lifetime.
Wow, your phone
is really blowing up tonight.
Mm.
Two old-fashioneds.
Thank you.
Oh, thank you.
Okay. Here.
You know what else seems
old-fashioned to me nowadays?
Mm?
Integrity.
Maybe because
I spent my career
fighting the sleazeballs
in our industry.
You know ...
the Rod Bushmill types.
Rod's a sweetheart.
He bought me lunch
last week.
We got to talking
about whether or not we ...
What am I doing?
Jibber-jabbering
about work.
Mm.
So, that little
grease monkey Joe is 3.
Hard to believe.
3.
They grow up so fast.
Got to be nice, though,
Dad,
knowing that your company
is in good hands
and you can stay home
all day long and just
play with your kid.
Have you lost your mind?
Well, not all day,
obviously.
3-year-olds are nothing
but bipolar germ buckets.
You're skipping out
on ClosetCon?
Who told you that?
Ben.
That little weasel
told me everything.
Listen, I can tolerate
shutting down the blinds,
even Rod Bushmill, but not
showing up for ClosetCon,
you're asking
not to be taken seriously.
My God, Claire!
We're one strong season
away from being invited
to Expo Internationale
du Closets!
Why are you looking at me
like that?
'Cause I'm not doing
any of those things.
I told that little weasel Ben
to text you those things
when I found out
that he was spying for you.
And, by the way,
it doesn't feel very nice
to know that you don't think
that I can run your company.
That's not why I did it.
I thought maybe you could
use a little support.
You're staring down the barrel
of your first ClosetCon.
So you spied on me?
I mean, you could have
given me a call.
And tell you that you're
not doing your job?
That would have
gone over fine with you.
Need any help?
No!
No.
I mean, look at us.
Why can't we both admit
that we could use
each other's help right now?
Are we too proud
to even do that?
I'll admit it
if you will.
Fine. On 3.
1... 2... 3.
Will you crack my lobster?
I want to come back to work.
What?
Damn it!
Oh, my God.
You want to come back to work?
I miss it, okay?
You know how it is when you
have closets in your blood.
I'm going crazy
in retirement.
Why are you smiling at me
like that?
Because we're so similar.
Do you know how many times
I've wanted to call you
to ask
for your help or advice,
but I was afraid
I would look weak?
Here.
You crack this.
Give me that.
I'll open these things.
Well, Dad, what do you think
about coming back to work ...
I don't know ...
one or two days a week?
What I was thinking was,
I'd have a staff of five.
Mm-hmm.
My own building.
What?
And I report to no one.
I'm kidding.
I'll put a desk
in the copy room.
And, by the way, I've
known you for a long time.
The last thing you need to
worry about is looking weak.
It's not always easy
to ask for what you want,
whether it's
a little romance...
or a little help...
or a little respect.
So, I admire you
for asking ...
I don't.
We both know
why they're asking.
No, you may not use our upstairs
apartment for an after party.
- Oh.
Lame.
You look ravishing,
my sweet.
We said no talking.
Come on. Come on.
I'm thirsty.
I'll tell you
when you're thirsty.
Come on.
Let me feel that power.
Come on.
Make that leather sing!
All right. Come on.
Get on your bike.
Back up.
Get on your bike. Come on.
They can't hit you
if they can't reach you.
My pants are falling.
Well, pull 'em up.
Pull 'em up high
to your nipples.
That prevents
a low blow.
What's a low blow?
Fantastic.
I have to emcee
a poetry retrospective tomorrow,
and this shawl collar's
got more wrinkles
than last night's
"Downton Abbey."
That is.
Captions by VITAC :