Chandler: Basically we just feel that he's...
Rachel: We hate that guy.
All: Yeah. Hate him.
Ross: We're sorry, Pheebs, we're sorry.
Phoebe: Uh-huh. Okay. Okay, don't you think, maybe, though, it's just that he's so perceptive that it freaks you out?
All: ...No, we hate him.
Rachel: We're sorry.
[Scene: Chandler and Joey's apartment, Joey is trying to turn the sofabed back into a sofa. Someone knocks on the door and it rears up at him.]
Joey: Ma! What're you doing here?
Mrs. Tribbiani: I came to give you this (Gives him a bag of groceries) and this. (Whacks him round the ear)
Joey: Oww! Big ring!
Mrs. Tribbiani: Why did you have to fill your father's head with all that garbage about making things right? Things were fine the way they were! There's chicken in there, put it away. For God's sake, Joey, really. (She gives the sofabed a tiny push and it folds away)
Joey: Hold on, you-you knew?
Mrs. Tribbiani: Of course I knew! What did you think? Your father is no James Bond. You should've heard some of his cover stories. "I'm sleeping over at my accountant's," I mean, what is that? Please!
Joey: So then how could you I mean, how could you?!
Mrs. Tribbiani: Do you remember how your father used to be? Always yelling, always yelling nothing made him happy, nothing made him happy, not that wood shop, not those stupid little ships in the bottle, nothing. Now he's happy! I mean, it's nice, he has a hobby.
Joey: Ma, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but... what the hell are you talking about?! I mean, what about you?
Mrs. Tribbiani: Me? I'm fine. Look, honey, in an ideal world, there'd be no her, and your father would look like Sting. And I'll tell you something else. Ever since that poodle-stuffer came along, he's been so ashamed of himself that he's been more attentive, he's been more loving... I mean, it's like every day's our anniversary.
Joey: I'm...happy...for you?
Mrs. Tribbiani: Well don't be, because now everything's screwed up. I just want it the way it was.
Joey: Ma, I'm sorry. I just did what I thought you'd want.
Mrs. Tribbiani: I know you did, cookie. Oh, I know you did. So tell me. Did you see her?
Joey: Yeah. You're ten times prettier than she is.
Mrs. Tribbiani: That's sweet. Could I take her?
Joey: With this ring? (Her engagement ring.) No contest.
[Scene: Central Perk. Phoebe is there with Roger.]
Roger: What's wrong, sweetie?
Phoebe: Nothing, nothing.
Roger: Aaaah, what's wrong, c'mon. (Pats his leg. She lies down and rests her head in his lap)
Phoebe: It's, I mean, it's nothing, I'm fine. It's my friends. They-they have a liking problem with you. In that, um, they don't.
Roger: Oh. They don't.
Phoebe: But they don't see all the wonderfulness that I see. They don't see all the good stuff and all the sweet stuff. They just think you're a little...
Roger: What?
Phoebe: Intense and creepy.
Roger: Oh.
Phoebe: But I don't. Me, Phoebe.
Roger: Well, I'm not I'm not at all surprised they feel that way.
Phoebe: You're not? See, that's why you're so great!
Roger: Actually it's, it's quite, y'know, typical behaviour when you have this kind of dysfunctional group dynamic. Y'know, this kind of co-dependant, emotionally stunted, sitting in your stupid coffee house with your stupid big cups which, I'm sorry, might as well have nipples on them, and you're like all 'Oh, define me! Define me! Love me, I need love!'.
[Scene: Monica and Rachel's, Joey is letting everyone in on the new developments.]
Monica: So you talked to your dad, huh.
Joey: Yeah. He's gonna keep cheating on my ma like she wanted, she's gonna keep pretending she doesn't know even though she does, and my little sister Tina can't see her husband any more because he got a restraining order...which has nothing to do with anything except that I found out today.
Rachel: Wow.
Chandler: Things sure have changed here on Waltons mountain.
Ross: So Joey, you okay?
Joey: Yeah, I guess. It's just parents, after a certain point, you gotta let go. Even if you know better, you've gotta let them make their own mistakes.
Rachel: Just think, in a couple of years we get to turn into them.
Chandler: If I turn into my parents, I'll either be an alcoholic blond chasing after twenty-year-old boys, or... I'll end up like my mom.
Phoebe: (entering) Hey.
All: Hey, Pheebs.
