The Vocabulary of Moira Rose
Revel in the sagacious vocabulary of Schitt's Creek's resident wordsmith.
Moira: After a glut of unasinous ideas put forth today, the room is suddenly bombilating with anticipation. Can we feel that? It's almost as though we're building towards some sort of inevitable climax.
Moira: We landed on a one-of-a-kind event to celebrate and congregate those who happen to be unattached, uh, in the hopes of facilitating interpersonal connections.
Alexis: Sorry, so like a singles event, then?
Moira: That word is now considered derogatory. I believe they prefer to be called independents.
Alexis: So you stole my idea, took it to Council, and claimed it as your own?
Moira: Alexis, now is not the time for pettifogging!
David: Um, Jake, this is my mother.
Jake: Listen, I'm really sorry, I didn't think anybody would be home.
David: Okay, nobody was supposed to be home. Nobody was supposed to be home, so... You were supposed to be at lunch, why- Why are- Why were you not at lunch?!
Moira: David, stop acting like a disgruntled pelican!
Moira: It's startlingly quiet in here, David. Is that a good sign?
David: I thought you were booked up all day, and that's why you couldn't help Dad with the dead b- That thing in the motel.
Moira: I am booked up, David. You should see my schedule. I'm positively bedevilled with meetings, etc.
Moira: I am suddenly overwhelmed with regret. It's a new feeling for me, and I don't find it at all pleasurable.
Stevie: You regret that embarrassing photos of you aren't online?
Moira: No, I regret that they're lost. They were the one perfect memorial to who I once was. And I should've appreciated those firm, round mammae and Callipygian ass while I had them.
Stevie: If you're talking about your body, uh, I think you still look amazing.
Moira: Then allow me to offer you some advice. Take a thousand naked pictures of yourself now. You may currently think, "Oh, I'm too spooky.", or, "Nobody wants to see these tiny boobies." But believe me, one day you will look at those photos, with much kinder eyes and say, "Dear God, I was a beautiful thing!"
Stevie: Will I?
Moira: Mmm-hmm. Oh, and make sure you submit those photos to the Internet. Otherwise, your own children will go looking for them one day and tragically, they won't be there.
David: Alexis seems to think you like me more.
Moira: Alexis, don't be ridiculous! This is exactly the kind of paranoia that makes me wary of spending time with you.
Alexis: I was sitting right here, and you chose to eat lunch alone.
Moira: That is simply not true! I didn't see you. At first. Alexis, I would be absolutely glee-ridden if you would have lunch with me. Today.
Alexis: No, no, no, no, no. I wasn't actually...
Moira: You'll meet me at the cafe for their one o'clock sitting.
Judge: Juror 75, you were asked if you had any personal conflicts that might affect your judgments of this case.
Moira: I don't know these people. I don't know these people. The fact that my own world was ripped out from under me, by someone like this prick of a prestidigitator? I should think would help the court in the quest to make a fair judgment. [crowd murmurs] May I approach the bench, please?
Judge: No, you may not. The Court thanks and excuses Prospective Juror 75.
Moira: How mercurial is life? We all imagine being carried from the ashes by the Goddess Artemis and here I get a balatron from Barnum and Bailey. [small laugh]
Roland: Okay. I, I have no idea what that means, but it doesn't sound good.
Johnny: David did all this?
Moira: I can't believe it. He's managed to create, in this town, something truly winsome. I would shop here, John. Even without a nagging sense of obligation.
Moira: Oh, and it's Roaring Twenties themed, and I know you have a soft spot for seersucker.
David: I won't be dressing up.
Moira: Aw, say, don't be a dew-dropper! Throw some concealer under those peepers, make like a swell, and go put on the Ritz!
Jocelyn: I'm here! I got a sitter!
Moira: Oh, Jocelyn, I'm afraid that dirigible has ascended.
Jocelyn: But I'm here on time.
Moira: Yes, you are, but we started an hour early. Ronnie has a massage.
Jocelyn: You moved the rehearsal for Ronnie's massage?
Moira: Well, it was also conducive to Twyla's schedule. It's hard for her to juggle, what with the cafe.
Jocelyn: Oh, is it hard for her? To juggle? And none of you here thought to tell me about this little time change?
Moira: You said you couldn't make it because of the bébé.
Moira: I don't believe this.
Johnny: Sweetheart, I just thought having your own garden in town would make losing the theatre less painful.
Moira: Oh, I won't be pitied, John! Or fed your pacifying pablum like some kind of soft-headed infant!
Moira: John, don't get too close, dear. We can't afford you contracting mange.
Johnny: It's a cat, Moira. I hit a cat!
Moira: Well, what kind of ailurophobe sends their kitty out to play on such a busy stretch of highway?
Moira: Well, hello, you!
Stevie: Mrs. Rose, what are you doing here?
Moira: I thought you and I might celebrate your big award!
Stevie: Come in. Oh, thank you.
Moira: And I was made aware there was a loss, as well.
Stevie: Yeah. Turns out, someone who's been working the front desk of a motel her whole life isn't exactly a turn-on.
Moira: I was speaking of his loss. Stevie, underneath the brambly tartan blousant is a chrysalis, just bursting with potential.
Moira: [on the phone] Jocelyn is in labour!
Alexis: Oh my god!
Moira: I know it's no one's fault. I'm with her now, we're in the car.
Alexis: Okay, so what am I supposed to do, here?
Moira: Well, has the press arrived yet?
Alexis: Yes! Everybody has arrived. Everybody is here, just waiting.
Moira: Oh! Don't start without me you little frippit. You don't have the media training.
Moira: I was hoping this might be an opportune moment to discuss the quagmire in which you fancy yourself ensnared?
Bob: The what to the what now?
Moira: That had its moments. When it shone, it shone brightly. And I have to hand it to DeWitt. She had a real breakthrough during the denouement. I believe she believed we were cousins.
Moira: Well, well, "John-John" returns.
Johnny: Okay, Moira, don't tell me you still haven't slept.
Moira: What would give you that impression?
Johnny: Sweetheart, you've got to find a way of getting some sleep!
Moira: Easier said than done, John, when your only husband is longing for his epistle-writing inamorata.
Moira: You know what's often more potent than an apology, is an explanation. You know, I may have said this town is the last place I wish to find myself, but the magazine neglected to include my entire quote. I specifically commended your ever-beating heart, and your elephantine generosity. "A slice of heaven," is what I recall myself saying! Please know that I believe, deep down, there are worse places to be. Like in your shoes right now. Would a quick meet and greet help? I do have a few headshots in the boot of my car.
Alexis: Okay, um, it's a singles night at the cafe. And the goal is, um, to get people from nearby communities together, for like romance and nibblies. And hire some staff, and dating experts, and make a whole night of it.
Moira: Darling, I realize the pickings are slim in this rural spanandry, but you can't ask Council to misuse public funds just so that you can find yourself a new boy toy.
Moira: Very well. How to get started. Um, I woke up yesterday morning with a spring in my step.
David: Start later, please.
Moira: I could never know where the day was...
David: Fast forward it.
Moira: I ran into the elderly gentleman outside his room and he asked me for a painkiller.
Moira: I told him I didn't have one.
Moira: But I did have one. In fact, I had several sample packets in my purse. I had come from the pharmacy, and they were just out in a bowl. But I refused the man, and the next thing I know, he turns up dead!
David: Well, why didn't you just give him the pill?
Moira: Because David, because I can barely come to terms with the fact that I've resorted to hoarding sample packets of a basic headache medication, let alone reveal it to the world. This is what my life has come to, David, killing a man over a complimentary bolus.
Johnny: Okay, enough. Let's get going, please?
Moira: Yes, yes, plenty of work to be done. Unfortunately my previous engagements preclude me from offering my beneficence around the motel today. John, I hate to leave you like this!
Moira: Before we find ourselves ebrious with hooch and happiness, may I say how very proud all of us are on this day of days.
David: Well, we did say no speeches, so...
Moira: Your father...
Stevie: Guess they listened.
Moira: With his pecuniary savvy and intrepidation has turned what began as a katzenjammer of a day into one filled with faith, hope and love.
Johnny: Well, thank you, sweetheart.
Moira: [gasps] Oh gals! You shouldn't have. Jocelyn, are we now moonlighting as town crier?
Jocelyn: Oh, no, Moira...
Moira: Cheeky gawpus you. Yes, it's true. Our husbands, at my husband's direction, are currently in New York City, vending their business to the corporate cognoscenti.
Johnny: You know, I think the reason our kids are so casual with us is because they think of us as their friends.
Moira: Hmm, no.
Johnny: No, it's obvious. It's obvious, Moira, right? Because we're hip parents.
Moira: Oh, John.
Johnny: And that comes at a price.
Moira: John, we're not hip. I'm hipper than you, but in our children's eyes we are the polar antonym of hip.
Moira: Well, a little bird chirped in my ear about your singing group.
Jocelyn: Oh, you mean the Jazzagals?
Moira: Yes. At first I wondered aloud, why would a competitive vocal group not reach out to a trained chanteuse?
Jocelyn: Oh, we're just a group of gals.
Moira: Exactly. That's the answer. Small minds don't reach for the stars. No more! Not on my watch. Jocelyn, I am here!
Johnny: I've gotta wipe him up, and change his clothes again.
Moira: For all we know, it's got crawling pneumonia.
Johnny: Oh, he doesn't have crawling pneumonia, Moira!
Moira: I don't want to say I told you so, but this is an infelicitous burden. I could be at Ronnie's right now, preparing for the post-screening Q&A.
Moira: [answers phone] Tippy. Yes, I just received it. Please, tell me this is not some barbarous jape. Yes. Yes. My answer is a yes! A clangorous, vociferous yes. Thank you. Thank you.
Johnny: What's all that about?
Moira: Sunrise Bay. Wow. When forced to choose between Clifton and myself, they decided mine was the bigger name.
Moira: David, blame me.
David: Oh, I do.
Moira: Patrick was about to slip away with the signatures when I corralled him into a little lunchtime chin wag.
Johnny: I understand, Moira. So, would you like me to leave you to cocktails with the gals, then?
Moira: Oh god, no, we'll leave together, please. There are only so many ways I can feign amusement at Ronnie's comedia del commode.
Moira: Stevie, I'm so proud of you. You're really powering through tonight. Of course I never doubted you.
Stevie: Thank you, but I still have an act and a half to prove you wrong.
Moira: Now I suppose David's announcement left you a little shaken.
Stevie: That's really not it, Mrs. Rose. It's just... I wish I wasn't watching it all happen from behind the desk. You know? It feels like everyone's growing up all around me.
Moira: You know, before the "Crows" movie happened, I too thought there was no escape from this dark, troublesome existence that was my life in this town. I was as hopelessly crestfallen as you are right now.
Alexis: Okay, she doesn't know what she's doing, and didn't know that it was recording.
Patrick: Okay look, David can never, ever find out about this. I am actually afraid that he will never sleep again.
Moira: Precisely why we're involving you in this covert stratagem.
Alexis: [loud cough]
David: [wakes up, gasps] What happened? Who died?
Johnny: Who died?
David: Did Patrick die?
Alexis: No, Patrick didn't die, David.
David: Then why did you startle me awake like this? My mind went straight to some kind of unthinkable tragedy. Like something really, really bad happened.
Johnny: Oh. Imagine.
Moira: Well, the day did have a slight singultus.
Moira: [on the phone] Oh, Bev, I'm sorry I missed you, but I'm so happy I got your voicemail! Wondering when you might be getatable for a little red biddy, little back chat? Hm? Oh, and we're moving to New York. I just thought it was time. Ciao. [hangs up]
Johnny: Don't tell me you're having lunch with Bev after all this.
Moira: Imagine? No, I amputated those people years ago. But Bev and her big bazoo will get the word out quicker than any group memorandum.
Moira: Shall I? Hence our impending move to the Big Red Delicious.
Ronnie: Excuse me?
Jocelyn: Moira, I haven't said anything yet.
Moira: [chuckles] Why the festivities then?
Jocelyn: Grace is moving to Elm Valley. That's why the cake says "Goodbye Grace".
Moira: Oh I-I... I thought you were singling out one of my notable attributes. Shh. Okay, we'll just smooth things over until Grace arrives.
Grace: I-I'm right here.
Moira: Yes, you are! Grace! Our timorous grinagog.
Stevie: It's just that we have um, a bunch of guests checking in, and I could really use some help. Now.
Moira: Now? Well, then, I am here for you, Stevie. Uh, let's see something in a supervisory capacity, perhaps?
Stevie: Then you can work the front desk.
Moira: Ooh, receptionist work is not my strong suit, that's more Alexis' bailiwick.
Stevie: The other option is changing the sheets, and mattress covers.
Moira: Then I shall keep watch over this front desk.
Johnny: Boys, this time tomorrow your store may be the official supplier of Rosebud Motels across the continent.
Patrick: I have nothing but confidence, Mr. Rose.
Jocelyn: Rollie, there's mints in your pocket, there was a lot of onions in the omelette.
Moira: Goodbye, my conquistadors! We are all relying on you... No! We're cheering you on!
Alexis: Just wave. Just wave.
Johnny: Hey partner, what's the good word?
Stevie: There's a dead guy in Room 4.
Johnny: What? What do ya mean there's a dead guy in come in, come in.
Moira: Did I hear what I think I heard? Has someone been killed?
Moira: No! No, John, no. No! I have endured a cornucopia of trauma that last few years, I draw the line at living in a crime scene.
Tippy Bernstein: Moira fucking Rose. Wow. I mean, I figured time stood still in this town, but look at you! You are just as... gorgeous as the day I discovered you.
Moira: Oh Tippy. You're as alive as ever! No, don't get up!
Tippy Bernstein: No, no. Don't worry about it. Cured that vertigo years ago. I hired a hypnotherapist. Then I married her. And then I divorced her. [in a hypnotized voice] You-are-getting-very... broke.
Moira: Ha! [laughs] Tippy, I have missed that vaudevillian charm.
Jocelyn: And I got you extra performance time, I got the children's choir down to one song! Some of the kids cried.
Moira: Oh, Jocelyn. Jocelyn, why? Why, why, why, would you do that?
Jocelyn: Because you asked for more time, Moira!
Moira: But Jocelyn! Did you know that rehearsal, it can be the most enlightening and even heuristic exercise.
Jocelyn: Hi Moira, I don't wanna interrupt you, I can see you're busy watching the trailer again. I just wanted to apologize for earlier.
Moira: No need to self-flagellate, Jocelyn. Even if yours is the lone dissenting voice in the canticle.
Moira: David, don't tell me you've had a nighttime oopsie-daisy.
Patrick: I'm sorry, a what?
David: I'm leaving. Okay? And if I don't come back it's because of you. [exits]
Moira: Ooh dear. David's nocturnal enuresis used to only happen when he went to bed all juiced up with excited anticipation about something. Christmas, birthdays, the Ides of March. And now it seems your impending nuptials has opened the floodgates.
Patrick: Oh! Why am I oddly flattered?
Moira: I can't imagine.
Moira: John, remind me to reprimand that latch, it's been awfully moody today.
Johnny: Well, good-good morning, Sweetheart. Look who's come to see you.
Moira: Finally. I'll have the continental breakfast with the fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice. [John chuckles] Orange Pekoe tea.
Johnny: No, Moira, Moira, it's - it's David and Patrick. Don't we have something we want to say?
Moira: Yes, thank you, John. Sadly, I won't be able to squire you for today's wedding venue peregrination.
Alexis: You invited Mom? She's literally been asleep in a closet for a week.
Moira: Just know that missing this will be the heavy-hearted part of my day.
Moira: Well, I'm glad I caught you, because I got your missive about wanting to sup this evening, and I'm afraid I must decline.
David: What? Why? Why?
Moira: David, full disclosure, you have been awfully clingy of late. I think it might be propitious for you to spend some time with your peers. What's Patrick doing tonight? Or Stevie?
Alexis: You're looking especially fresh and photogenic today, Mother.
Moira: Why thank you, Alexis. Perhaps it's my excellent news. I found a very promising revenue stream to help finance the little deficit we've accrued on Cabaret.
Alexis: What might that be?
Moira: Well, according to the radio, there's a darling little medical clinic in Elm Grove. Where if any one of us, say, you, or your father, participates in a few nugatory tests, we could be bringing in over $200 a week!
Jazzagals: [singing] Fat spatula Fat spatula Fat spatula Fat spatula Fat spatula- Fat spat-
Moira: Ah! John, what are you doing here? Is it David? Oh no, you can speak freely in front of the gals.
Johnny: No, no, David's fine. David's fine. A little depressed. Stevie had to force him into her car, but you know.
Moira: Then, to what do we owe this off-book sojourn?
Moira: Willkommen and bienvenue, welcome, you to "Cabaret!" [applause] Not now, not yet.
Jocelyn: Okay, yup.
Moira: I'm sure this will come as a shock to all of you, but this production will mark my directorial debut!
[Moira looks to Jocelyn to start a round of applause]
Moira: Missing cues already. No, I'm- I'm simply here to inspire. And instruct, and bring out the very best in you. And I want to start the day with my lupanarian Kit Kat Girls!
Moira: Jocelyn, you're about to witness a master class in judicatory persuasion.