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Everybody, I have a listing!
Now, since the market is as tight
as an Englishman's cricket shoes,
it's only fair this assignment go
to the employee I feel is most deserving.
Me.
Oh, and for the rest of you,
if you're lucky enough to get a listing,
well, you'll now get two weeks to sell it.
And if you don't, it goes back to my top salesperson.
Still me.
Size more Realty.
This is Peggy Hill speaking, but you can call me...
your Realtor.
Mashed potatoes and french fries?
If it's bad news, Mom, just let me have it.
Let the starches flow like water,
I have a listing!
Way to go! Yay, Aunt Peggy!
Well, all right, Peggy.
That's a pretty big deal
considering the rough housing market.
Yes, yes, it is, but I only have two weeks to sell the house,
or I will lose the listing and maybe my job.
No, no,
you enjoy those fries, Bobby,
because I plan on staging the heck out of this house.
What's staging?
It's like a home makeover.
I fill the house with flowers, candles
and nice furniture so people won't have a chance
to imagine how bad it's going to look with their crap in it.
I know what'll attract a big crowd.
You can put in a Gap.
People love the Gap.
"The last hose you'll ever buy."
I've had to buy it three times.
And I'm buying it again.
This is gonna be the one!
Oh, God, look who's here.
That home inspector, Bud Ferguson.
Where? Where is he?
Bud Ferguson.
Pushing a shopping cart like a mere mortal.
That jerk killed two of our sales last month
because the houses had "structural problems."
Like every house doesn't have those.
It's Ferguson's job to be tough,
and he's damn good at it.
Did you know he discovered faulty wiring
at Bo Shute's house through three layers of drywall?
Of course we do.
You fail a Ferguson inspection,
everyone in Arlen knows.
Poor Shute was so humiliated, he had to move to a Dakota.
His unsellable house still sits empty.
Sad for him, sad for the house.
I will sell this house by 1:00 p.m.
Mmm!
Your open house starts in an hour,
so what do you say you jump in the car
and go for a little spin around the state?
Even if I's physically capable of gettin' into an automobile,
I ain't goin' nowhere with outsiders in the house.
They'll steal our stuffs.
The open house was a disaster.
That woman, she kept kissing her ferret on the mouth.
I don't know who I felt worse for.
Ugh, ugly people sure do ruin a lot.
They've done studies with newborns,
and if given the choice,
babies would rather go to pretty strangers
than their own ugly parents.
Well, obviously, babies are not as stupid as they look.
That's it,
Nancy, that's what I need.
Beautiful people.
If I populate the open house with beautiful people,
no one will notice the ugly ones.
And who are the best-looking people in town?
Well, librarians after they take off their glasses
and actors.
I will go with the actors.
Welcome cast members of the 142 Taylor Avenue open house.
Right now, you are a random assortment
of very good-looking actors.
But by next weekend's open house,
you will be a family.
Sounds great, I hate my real family.
So, Madame Director, what do you want us to do?
Well, huh, um,
why don't you act?
If you want us to act, we need a script.
We're not improv people.
A script... right, Melrose.
Which means I get to write one!
I will write about how wonderful the house is,
people will fall in love with it, and bingo, it's sold!
I'm just gonna have to dig deep
into my tortured soul to write this thing.
I will call my mother.
Frank,
why don't you warm up the actors.
All right, everybody,
let's warm up.
33 minutes to cut a lawn.
That's a personal best.
Unique New York!
What the... Unique New York!
Unique New York! Unique New York!
Hey, Dad, check it out!
Unique New York... I'm an actor.
Using actors to sell houses is a dumb idea.
Hank, my job is on the line.
I have to sell that freak house.
And I have one week to write a script
and get it up on its feet before the open house.
These actors are my only hope.
But, Peggy, the boy.
He's swaying.
Hank, if God forbid
you were desperate to keep your job
and had to peddle propane in our living room,
I would not object.
All right, fine.
But please don't ever compare acting to propane again.
Connections.
This play is about how this house
has affected people's lives.
Now, let's do the scene
between Luanne, her husband and emotionally distant father,
and how they connect
in this mid-century kitchen with modern upgrades.
I know this is way uncool,
but can we do my scenes first?
I've got a mattress commercial this afternoon.
Oh, you got that?
Good, good.
Okay, everybody, let's do the scene
in the walk-in closet slash third bedroom.
Okay, in this scene, Frank... Peggy,
I know "writer's word is gold,"
but do I have to say this?
"French doors"?
Doors is fine, it's the other word.
Okay, I do not know what the French did to you,
but I will work around them.
Fine.
Kitchen scene. Hustle!
Oh, God.
Stay where you are, Hank.
The actors have to get used
to working around the freaky people.
Everybody, pretend Hank is a scary old man
with an oxygen tank.
Girls, I've got good news and bad news.
I'll start with the bad.
Your mother is dead.
Oh, no!
But the good news is that
her memory will live on in this house.
Its sturdy frame just like hers, and large bay windows...
like your mother's big blue eyes that will never open again.
Mother!
Dang it, Dale, I told you the bed is off-limits.
"Don't sit on my bed, don't try on my belts."
You sure have a lot of rules, King "Don't."
Knock it off, Dale.
I've got enough problems
with these actors crawling all over my house,
eating imaginary bananas
when real ones are sitting right there in a bowl.
I don't know what I'd do if I had actors in my house.
We'd probably play charades late into the night,
then get drunk on sangria and practice our Oscar speeches.
I could rid you
of your "extremely attractive pests," Hank.
I won't say when,
I will say scorpions.
I'm not sure
if it's the high ceilings or the recessed lighting,
but this room makes me...
It's a miracle, my love.
Cut!
Luanne, you entered too early again.
Bobby says, "Makes me wanna dance,"
he dances, then you rush in.
Come on, people,
we have got one week to get this right
or I will lose my job.
Action.
It's a miracle, my love!
After 15 years, we are pregnant.
And I know exactly who's responsible.
This house.
Chris, what are you doing here,
interrupting my knitting group?
I know what you're doing here.
Using actors to sell houses.
Brilliant.
You're making real estate history, Peggy,
and I want to be a part of it.
More specifically, I want a part in it.
He's not even hot.
Well, it wouldn't be fair to just throw you in.
See, these are professional actors.
All love the womb
that their first being bred,
then give my tongue
like leave to love my head.
Well, you're my boss.
Another guy, great.
There goes my chimney monologue.
Fine, I'll rewrite the freaking thing!
You guys are still up?
It's 11:30.
Dad, Mom's been typing for six hours straight,
except for that 15 minutes when she just started crying.
Hank, it is impossible to please all my actors,
but... I... just... did!
Oh! Forgot to save.
I was hoping you'd take the house back
and maybe your old dad, too.
I missed you so much, Dad.
Hug me.
Where is Melrose?
I'm calling from the set.
On the phone?
Wait. Okay, I can handle this.
You are on the phone because...
you're away at school.
Melrose is away at college,
and is calling because she misses her family.
No, her home!
Frank, go with it.
Um, I know you're trying to break the cycle,
being the first one in the family to graduate college,
but we miss you.
And more importantly, the house misses you.
Did everyone feel that?
It was real, and it was good.
I could even feel it here, Frank.
Oh, my goodness!
Well, we might actually pull this off!
At this rate,
tomorrow's dress rehearsal is gonna be fantastic!
Now, everybody remember to bring friends
so it feels like a real open house.
I love the theater.
It's in me now!
Spencer, the talk.
Bobby, did you know I'm 35 years old,
and I spend my weekends
in a sandwich costume just to make rent?
This is the story of a family.
But it's not about the people in the family.
Nay!
It's a story about what keeps them together.
This is the story of a house.
Good Lord.
They told me you died in the war!
I did.
I saw the white light, God, the whole nine.
But while there, I couldn't stop thinking about home,
so I couldn't stay dead.
You can start the party.
Cousin Joey has arrived.
I didn't knock, because I never do.
...Which is why doctors will never tell you
that homesick is the worst kind of sick.
And one day, I will honor this house
by becoming the man she always knew I could be.
Brava, Peggy. Brava.
Again, this play idea... genius.
I, however, have surpassed that genius
and gone on to create a new level of genius
by inviting a client to the show.
Oh, good. You are my target audience.
Come on, how much did you love it?
It was great.
So great, I made an offer on the house.
I don't understand.
I sold you a house that you've never even seen?
No, Peggy, that would make you a witch.
He made an offer on this house.
What?!
But this is my house.
It's not for sale.
Even at 25K over asking price?
With a full cash deposit?
Sold!
I can't believe
you sold our house!
I know! And for a very good price...
25 Kover asking in a down market.
Would you open it, Dad?
You know, autographs.
Has this family gone insane?!
That's it.
Bobby, open your own dang soda.
Peggy, we're not moving.
End of story.
I am sorry, Hank.
When I sold our house, I was drunk
on the powerful elixir that is fame.
But we cannot back out of this sale.
It will destroy my reputation, which after tonight,
is off the freakin' charts.
Well, that's just too bad.
I'm not selling this house, Peggy.
But, Hank, there would be a huge penalty if we backed out.
It could be $10,000.
I'm not paying anything.
You have to get us out of this.
End of discussion.
Okay, Hank, I will find away to keep our house.
Actors got us into this, actors will get us out.
I do appreciate you letting me see the place during the day.
Psst, yo.
Your loan payment's L to the ate.
If you don't cough up the scrilla,
you'll have to answer to the Jets.
Hey, I just moved in down the block,
and I'm required bylaw
to tell everybody I'm a sex offender.
Ugh! Good Lord!
Just ignore them.
They're actors.
Sir,
I'm gonna level with you.
This is all a big mistake.
Our home is not for sale.
I have no interest in selling the house
where I raised my boy and my dog.
See, now, this is exactly the kind of life I want.
No, this is my life, and you can't have it!
Kill the train, Bobby!
I'm gonna get some sleep,
unless you plan on selling the bed.
You will regret that dig,
because I have figured out away
to get out of the sale
and protect my reputation as Super Realtor.
All we have to do is not pass the inspection.
There's no way this house will fail an inspection.
Sure it can, if we stage it to make it look damaged.
And our inspector
is Ferguson, so it will be easy to fail.
Ferguson?!
Your reputation can take the hit,
because there's no got-dang way
I'm looking like a fool
in front of the greatest inspector
of our generation.
Hank, there isn't any other way.
We can't afford the penalty.
Master Craftsman
versus Master Inspector.
I wonder if you'll fight to the death.
So, we're definitely not gonna be friends with Ferguson?
Maybe we can be frenemies.
A love-hate relationship's the next best thing.
I'm sorry, Bill.
We're not gonna be anything with Ferguson
after I fail his inspection.
And everyone in Arlen hears about it.
Problem remains, how will you fail?
Your house is perfection.
Well, you got me.
I've taken such good care of my home,
I don't even know what a bad one looks like.
This beam's rotting,
and-and over there, you've got your termite damage.
And look what I can do!
How is that even possible?
That's nothing compared to this.
Put some brown around the edges
so it looks like it's progressed to Phase II, and Bobby,
when your mom's done with the ladder,
replace our air filter with, uh,
Mr. Dauterive's.
Dad, if it makes you feel better,
I don't want to be an actor anymore.
Thank you, son.
Ugh!
Look at this place.
My whole life has been a lie.
I'm sorry, Hank.
I just got carried away.
I'm gonna vomit.
Be strong, Hank.
Remember, this is the only way to save our house.
But if you need to,
we could use an extra carpet stain in Bobby's room.
Doorbell doesn't work.
It's not dangerous, but it is a violation.
With all the home improvement shows these days,
you'd think maintenance wouldn't be such an alien concept.
Oh. This is really horrible.
I feel like your boxing manager, and you've been beat up,
and I have to cut your eye with a razor so you can see.
If I were a joking man, I'd say, "Here's the damage."
But I'm not.
I'm gonna have to fail this house.
It'd take a skilled craftsman a thousand man hours to fix it.
A thousand man hours?
That's, that's a lot of money.
Sorry, folks.
I'm out.
Care to read my report, Mr. Hill?
No, I'll wait and read it with everyone else in town.
I'm thinking the master craftsman
who destroyed this house
should have no problem repairing it.
Uh, you're talking over my head here, sir.
I'm... I'm just a...
a bad homeowner.
Mr. Hill, only someone with incredible skills
could make such a well-maintained home
appear so damaged.
I'm impressed.
This is a house of healing.
Uncle Jeb, you don't need that oxygen tank to breathe in here.
Yes, he does. Bobby, put his mask back on.
Well, obviously, babies are not as stupid as they look.
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