Sunrise, Sunset

David:If you have to keep telling people that you're giving them something, then you're not really giving them anything.

Moira:Well, you've done it. You've invited Twyla to the wedding. Do you realize what you've done? You've become a Turkish Saint Nicholas, bestowing gifts upon the deserving and undeserving alike with reckless abandon.

David:So you solved one problem and created two others. That's actually impressive, Dad.

Moira:Tippy Bernstein has her fingers in so many irons in the fire.

Moira:You look absolutely radiant today.

Alexis:Mom, I look terrible.

Moira:I know, but I'm trying to build your confidence.

Johnny:Hello, I'm Johnny Rose, owner of the Rosebud Motel.

Roland:Yeah, we know. It's on all the books you're handing out.

Roland:Welcome to the Rose Apothecary. I'm Roland Schitt, co-owner of this establishment along with Mr. Rose here.

Roland:Now, I know what you're thinking — 'Roland, how did you become co-owner?' Well, let me tell you, it's all about reading the right books.

Roland:I just finished 'The Art of the Deal' and let me tell you, I am the deal now.

Roland:In fact, Mr. Rose, I've decided that from now on, all major decisions go through me first.

Johnny:Roland, we discussed this—

Roland:The book says the co-owner needs to establish dominance. I'm establishing dominance.

Johnny:Well, that's just great. Roland, thank you for that incredibly helpful introduction. I'm sure the new employees now have a very clear understanding of the business structure here.

Stevie:Yeah, so... the east wing of the motel basically collapsed last night.

Stevie:We're looking at a six-figure repair bill, the guests are threatening lawsuits, and the foundation is apparently made of the same material as a rice cake.

Stevie:But other than that, things are great.

Roland:Well, you know, I've been thinking about donating one of my organs. Tax write-off.

Roland:The thing is, my liver's not gonna fetch much after all these years.

Roland:And my kidneys? They don't perform like they used to.

Roland:Well, you could always have an 'accidental' fire. You know, completely by chance.

Johnny:We're not selling organs.

Roland:Well, that's good to know, because my kidney donation was just rejected.

Moira:Oh my God, look at her. She's being so rude to that woman. That is just unnecessary.

Alexis:But if Sheila already knew that Marcus was the father, why would she sleep with his brother?

Moira:Because, darling, television is not a medium that concerns itself with logic or consistency. It's about the emotional truth of a moment.

Alexis:I want to come to the meeting with you.

Moira:Absolutely not.

Alexis:Why not? I could be helpful.

Moira:The last time you came to a meeting, you called the producer 'Mr. Dildo.'

Alexis:His name is Dilbert! I'm not trying to be funny!

The inherently ridiculous nature of soap opera plotting

Johnny:You know what? Maybe I won't pay for the food after all.

David:Dad!

Johnny:I'm kidding. I'll pay for it. You know why? Because despite the fact that you're difficult, and demanding, and frankly, quite monstrous most of the time... you're not a monster all of the time.

David:We're late. We're officially late. Do you know what this means? The caterer now thinks we're the kind of people who are late to things. We'll be remembered as the late people. They'll tell other caterers about us.

Patrick:David, we're three minutes late.

David:Three minutes might as well be three hours in the catering world. We've probably lost our deposit. They've definitely given our table to another couple. A couple who respects time.

David:Everyone, I'd like you to meet our caterer. Stevie's here too—she just doesn't have a job, so she eats.

Johnny:That's a beautiful salad. Very fresh. The greens are really... vibrant.

Penelope:It's garnish.

Johnny:I'm sorry?

Penelope:It's garnish. For the plate.

Johnny:Lobster rolls? Do you know how much lobster costs? I once bought a small island just to avoid thinking about prices like that.

Johnny:Well, perhaps we could simply... arrange the garnish more artfully. A microgreen here, a radish ribbon there...

Johnny:We could call it a 'deconstructed salad.' Very trendy. Very expensive-sounding.

Johnny:I'm quite certain no one will notice it's primarily parsley and a single cherry tomato.

David:Well, if we're going to charge that much per plate, we need to invite people who actually expect that level of cuisine. I'm calling the Tulsa Country Club's most pretentious members.

Johnny:David, that's not how this works—

David:Father, I'm doing you a favor. These people will pay anything if you make them feel exclusive enough.

Johnny:This is... an interesting cut. You know, the key to a truly great beef tenderloin is understanding its provenance. Where does it come from? Who raised the cow? What were its hopes and dreams?

Johnny:Because that, that matters. That matters tremendously when you're looking at this kind of... premium pricing.

Johnny:People shouldn't focus on the food.

David:I'm sorry, what? Dad, are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head?

Johnny:Oh, a free sample. How generous. And what's the catch? That I'll suddenly feel obligated to buy the forty-dollar jar of whatever this is?

Johnny:Because that's how these things work, isn't it? One complimentary morsel and suddenly I'm walking out with three hundred dollars worth of artisanal whatever.

Johnny:No thank you. I've learned my lesson. Free samples are just expensive purchases wearing a very thin disguise.

Tippy:My hypnotist cured my vertigo by making me believe I was a chicken. Now I can't stop clucking at heights.

Tippy:Then I married the hypnotist, but she left me for my proctologist. Turns out he really knew how to look deep into things.

Tippy:I tried to sue them both, but my lawyer hypnotized me into thinking I had no case. Now I'm financially ruined—turns out hypnosis really is a mind game.

Moira:You look wonderful, Clifton. Have you been taking care of yourself?

Clifton:Well, I wouldn't say that. I mean, I'm sober.

Moira:That's wonderful!

Clifton:Yeah, well, I haven't had a drink since yesterday at noon.

Moira:Clifton, your performance was absolutely transcendent. The vulnerability, the raw emotion—you've truly captured the complexity of familial discord.

Clifton:Thank you, but I should clarify—that wasn't acting.

Moira:I'm sorry?

Clifton:That was just my actual family. We're really like that.

Clifton:I haven't actually seen it.

Alexis:Wait, so how did she die?

Moira:I was pushed off a balcony by my evil twin, fell into a vat of acid, got shot by a sniper, and then hit by a bus.

Alexis:All of that?

Moira:They wanted to make sure I was really dead.

Moira:Well, I mean, it was quite the artistic choice. The vulnerability of the nude form, combined with the theatrical staging of the demise... it was almost Shakespearean in its tragedy.

Clifton Powell:Yeah, I may have had something to do with her departure from the show. Let's just say I made some strategic "career decisions" for her.

Moira:Well, I don't know what all the fuss is about. I've popped a breasts myself.

Alexis:I've been doing some research online about how to be a better homemaker.

Moira:Well, I'm sure you'll be clicking all the right buttons. Though I suspect your mouse work could use some improving.

David:Dad, you can't just... you can't treat a gourmet food tasting like you're browsing in a gift shop.

Johnny:What do you mean? I'm tasting things.

David:You just said 'ooh, that's nice' and put it down. That's not tasting, that's shopping.

David:They gave us extra money because Patrick's last engagement fell through, and they feel terrible about it. So, in a way, I'm benefiting from his ex-fiancée's heartbreak. Which is... fine. I'm comfortable with that.

Johnny:We were going to have ice sculptures of ourselves at the wedding. Life-sized. In ice. Now we're lucky if we can afford a sheet cake from the grocery store that nobody's allergic to.

Tippy:Hey, tell that cute bartender I'd love a sex on the beach. If she has time, I need another scotch.

Moira:My character was trampled to death by a herd of bulls during the running of the bulls in Pamplona. It was very sudden. One moment she was fleeing for her life in a white linen dress, and the next, she was gored through the abdomen by a particularly aggressive bull with what I can only describe as a personal vendetta against her.

Moira:You sabotaged my career!

Clifton:I was trying to protect you. You're too talented for this business.

Moira:That's not protection, that's sabotage!

Clifton:Well, I suppose it's a backhanded compliment then.

Tippy:I've submitted you for every award every year.

Moira:Well, that's very sweet of you, Tippy.

Tippy:Even for that role where you played your own brother on Days of Our Lives.

Moira:That was a very complicated story arc.

Roland:Well, I got a signed photo of John Stamos.

Roland:It says 'To Roland, keep it real.' He signed it 'John Stamos.'

Roland:You know what your problem is? You're thinking too small. You gotta create more problems. More problems means more solutions, and more solutions means more money.

Johnny:That's not... that's not how business works, Roland.

Roland:Well, it's worked for me for thirty years.

Roland:You know what Wayne Gretzky says? You miss 100% of the tapes you don't take.

Johnny:I think you mean shots.

Roland:No, no, tapes. VHS tapes. That's what I built my business on.

Roland:I've been reading your book, Johnny. 'To my family, who believed in me when I didn't believe in myself.' Very touching.

Johnny:Thank you, Roland. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Roland:So when does the murder happen? I'm on chapter two and nobody's been killed yet. I thought this was a thriller.

Johnny:Roland, it's a memoir.

Roland:A memoir? Then why does the dedication make it sound like you're about to solve a crime?

Moira:I want script approval, final say on wardrobe, and a dedicated parking spot.

Moira:And they need to apologize publicly for that incident with the craft services.

Moira:Every cast member must address me by my full name before 9 AM.

Moira:And they have to rename the soundstage after me.

Alexis:Mom, that's insane.

Moira:And I want a car. A new car. Actually, multiple cars. A fleet.

Alexis:Are you doing the reboot?

Moira:I made them an offer they couldn't refuse. I asked for final cut, approval of all creative decisions, and my own private dressing room with a bidet that plays classical music.

Alexis:Mom, that's insane.

Moira:Exactly. I'm not interested in reboots, darling. I'm interested in never being asked about reboots again.

Alexis:Wait, why is she not acknowledging that he's literally right there above her?

David:It's a soap opera, Alexis. Blocking isn't exactly their strong suit.

Alexis:But he's like, directly in her line of sight. How do you not see that?