Original subtitles

Look up there ♪

What do you see? ♪

Nature and stuff ♪

- Like a rock ♪ - And a tree ♪

Oh, the Great North ♪

Way up here, you can breathe the air ♪

Catch some fish ♪

Or gaze at a bear ♪

Wow ♪

Oh, the Great North ♪

Here we live, oh, oh ♪

Here we'll stay, oh, whoo ♪

From longest night to longest day ♪

In the Great North. ♪

(cheering)

BEEF: Well, time for me to do

- all the dishes and cleaning. - No, no, Dad.

You guys are Honeybee and my guests tonight.

You just relax and enjoy digesting.

- Well, thank you. - Honeybee,

that lasagna was "Under the Tuscan Yum."

Glad you liked it.

I'm trying to branch out from layered dips,

so other layered foods seemed like a good place to start.

Well, I couldn't stop dipping my fork into it,

my Glamorous Garfield.

Having us over for dinner,

chaperoning our field trip tomorrow--

Wolf, you're really turning into an Adult Arnold on us.

You know it. I can't wait to be your guide

on the abandoned Death Cliff Prison field trip-a-roo.

Still one of my all-time favorite FTs

from when I was in high school.

I've been browsing their gift shop online

since I heard about the field trip,

and I'm torn about what I want:

a bar of soap with a tiny prisoner inside

that you free when you wash

or a throw pillow that says,

"Wherever you go, you're in jail."

And Crispin and I get to walk around all day together.

We do a lot of standing and sitting together,

but walking?

Uh, this is kind of huge for us.

I'm sad my grade doesn't get to go,

but Dad and I are gonna head out into the woods tomorrow morning

and work on earning my bird-watching patch

- for Lil' Preppers. - Aah! Is that the time?

Ham, we got to go.

Dakota: A Cowboy at College is on TV tonight,

and we got to watch live so we don't see any spoilers.

I wonder if he's gonna switch his boots

for some real city shoes

for his date with Taffiny tonight.

Oh, wait for me! I'm ready for a heaping helping

of that bucking biology major.

Oh, babe, sorry, you'll have to catch it later.

Remember, we got to finish filling out that paperwork

to open our joint checking account at the bank tomorrow.

Crapple sauce. I forgot.

Uh-oh. Adult Arnold rides again.

Come on, I'm not that old, guys.

I'm still just one of the sibs.

(chuckles) Look out.

Old Man Tobin's cranky.

Is that the sound of an adult diaper

filling up with rage diarrhea?

(laughs) Oh, Wolf, we're just teasing.

Oh, yeah, sure. (laughs)

I can take a joke because I'm not an old fuddy-duddy.

- (overlapping farewells) - Good night, you two.

- (door closes) - (whispers): Adult Arnold?

A-Are those wrinkles?

- Aah! - First, you don't watch

Dakota: A Cowboy at College.

Then your teeth fall out,

then you start farting uncontrollably,

and then you do the jitterbug at your nephew's wedding,

and nobody wants to see that.

And then your hearing starts to go

and then your arms fall off,

then you die... die... die.

Aah!

All righty, kids. Who's ready to do some hard time?

Oh, that didn't sound good.

Soft time. Ugh, that doesn't sound good either.

I know last night I had to do

boring adult bank paperwork stuff,

but today I'm responsibility-free. (whoops)

But aren't you our chaperone?

More like a "fun-perone," young lady.

- Oh, no. - You know, when I went on this field trip

not that many years ago,

my friend Cheesecake and I snuck off on our own...

Students, stop talking.

Does everyone have their worksheets?

You'll need to visit these five locations

within the prison and write a description of them.

Wolf, did you look over the worksheet?

Oh, absolutely.

Practically got it memorized, Teachio.

Please never call me that again.

Now, if you'd follow me up front,

there is seating for you there, with the other adults.

Three to a seat violates safety protocol.

Sorry about that.

(singsongy): Here I come.

Don't worry, guys. I'm not gonna be hard on you

about that worksheet because we can all agree

that homework stinks.

Pee-yew, am I right?

Do we have the option to take a different bus?

- What's that one? - Dark-eyed junco.

Slate plumage with a touch of white around the tail.

Pale-pink bill.

A flock is sometimes called a blizzard.

But instead of covering the ground with snow,

they blanket the ground with the warm thrum of life.

Aah! Oh, sorry. Hello.

No, I'm sorry.

You should never surprise a fellow bird-watcher.

I have some of the quietest footsteps in the world.

I entered an international competition

and came in fifth place.

Hello. My name is Greta Meatweep.

Well, Greta, it is great-a to meet you.

I'm Beef Tobin. This is my Moon son.

(laughs) I mean my Moon son.

I mean my son. Get it together, Beef.

This is my son, Moon.

I couldn't help overhearing you describing those birds.

It sounded like poetry to me.

I happen to be a proud member of the Lone Moose Poetry Gaggle.

I also coordinate the snacks. Are you a poet?

I, um... Am I a poet?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning!

Flying atop a bird with a poetess?

This is what I daydreamed of as a teen.

Please tell me you are a poet, too, Beef,

and then arrange me like your beautiful words.

Greta Meatweep. ♪

Yes, yes, of course I'm a poet.

Uh, Dad?

Remember, Moon? How I am one?

Right, yes.

He sure is a poet.

Oh, boy, can this guy rhyme with the best of them.

I admire that so much.

I write non-rhyming poetry

because I can never think of rhymes.

Uh, uh, for instance, this morning

I was trying to think of a rhyme for "table."

- Stable. - Wow, what a gift.

I can smell the horses already.

I know this is short notice, but would you be interested

in attending a poetry gathering this afternoon?

Perhaps you could recite one of your poems.

Oh, and you can bring your son

and any other poetry lovers out there.

Am I talking too fast? I hope not.

I had a caffeinated mint yesterday,

and it's still working its way through my system.

So, can I count you in or not?

Hmm. Yes?

And read one of your poems?

Certainly.

What a wonderful thing I have agreed to do.

I'm very happy with myself about it.

It's going to be at the VFW.

- See you there. - You bet.

Son, did I just tell that enchanting lady of letters

that I am a poet and agree to read one of my poems

- at an event this afternoon? - Correct.

Wonderful.

Welcome to the Death Cliff Prison and Museum.

There is to be no spitting, slapping or chewing gum.

I believe you can laugh at something

without screaming performatively.

Just no loudness in general. Got it? Good.

Okay, we'll be splitting up into three groups.

One group with me, one with Chelery's fathers,

and one with the Tobins' older brother Wolf.

Stay with your group. Do not stray.

Mind your chaperones as if they were me

but with far less knowledge of obscure film noir.

Okay, let's go inside.

All right, Wolf's group, huddle up.

- You guys have your passes? - What passes?

Yeah, the permission slip said we just needed a water,

lunch and a good attitude.

My attitude sucks, but I brought a sandwich.

Guys, I'm talking about your back-cage passes. (laughs)

We're about to go on a special little "off the books" tour

called "Wolf's Private Prison Peep Show."

Eh... wait, that did not sound right.

So, let's call it "Wolf's All-Inclusive Prison Peep Show."

Man, still not right.

Wolf, what are you talking about?

I'm talking about an all-access tour

of the very secret locations within this prison

that Cheesecake and I discovered when we were in high school.

Oh, I love going behind the scenes.

One time I saw the employee break room at the art museum.

Whew, if those mugs could talk.

Okay, that's the door we need to sneak through right there.

Beyond that is a whole wing of the prison

that's not open to the public

that ends in a very fun surprise destination.

Cheesecake was looking for a bathroom,

but I'm telling you, what we found was

so much better than a bathroom.

Better than a bathroom? This I got to see.

Okay, quietly, on your tiptoes. Go. Go, go, go, go.

We don't have to do the whole tour on tiptoes, do we?

My calves are still tender from jazz dance club.

Welcome to the "Shawshank Tour-demption,"

where it's time to get busy touring or get busy dying.

Mr. Wolf, I'm having such an amazing time.

Please, Mr. Wolf is my father.

- Just call me Wolf. - I can't believe

they don't put this cold, dark corridor on the regular tour.

Well, this area is technically closed off

because they say it's a little dangerous,

but Cheesecake and I did just fine.

If we find the prison morgue,

I need someone to take my picture in the body drawer

and text it to my brother, so that he'll feel guilty

about taking the last Toaster Strudel this morning.

Beedly-beedly-boop. Listen up to your tour guide.

Coming up on our left is the prison wood shop

where you can still see half of an adorable napkin holder

built by Sammy the Smotherer.

So far I haven't learned a single useful thing

on this field trip, and I love it.

HONEYBEE: Oh, hey, Beef. I was just finishing a frozen waffle.

You want one? Oh, no.

What's going on with your face?

Moon and I met a lady in the forest.

This sounds like the start of a fairy tale.

Is Moon a frog now? Is he in your pocket?

Moon is at school, but I told this woman that I was a poet.

And I promised to attend

a poetry gathering this afternoon

and read a poem I wrote.

- You really write poetry? - Well, I've dabbled.

I mean, we're in Alaska.

How can one not be inspired by the landscape?

Sometimes I write down a fragment.

And I've always thought female poets are--

sorry to be graphic-- very attractive.

Emily Dickinson is my ideal woman.

She loved to be alone

and would have had no interest in me.

Hubba-hubba.

But then I would never actually call myself a poet.

It just came out. I got flustered,

and, well, now I've really done it.

Okay, don't panic, Beef. It could be a nice time.

No, Honeybee, you don't understand.

I'm bad at public speaking.

I've never written a whole poem.

My getting up there and reading one this evening

will be like a snake trying to catch a baseball.

Hmm, well, I'm not gonna be any help to you in writing a poem,

but what I can help you with is a look.

I was friends with a poet, Armando, in Fresno,

so I know a thing or two about how they look and act.

Maybe a scarf could be an interesting touch.

There are some pretty nice ones in the scarf hamper

from Wolf's close-up magic phase.

That's the spirit, Beef. I have a feeling

once you look in the mirror and see a poet,

those words will just come tumbling out.

Thanks, Honeybee.

Maybe I will have a waffle after all.

Good, I'd feel waffle if you didn't.

My God, what is this family doing to me?

All right, hope you all enjoyed seeing the common area.

Some of the prison's most notorious killers

did square dancing in there.

We're almost to our destination.

It's just up a... huh.

Wondering if we took a wrong turn.

Uh, Wolf? Are we lost?

I get lost all the time delivering pizzas,

so I keep two calzones in the car,

in case I need to stick my feet in them for warmth.

Did you bring any hot food for our feet?

Guys, I'm not gonna officially label us lost.

More like "momentarily on unrecognizable terrain."

Wolf, I also agree that labels put us in a box

with the inability to grow,

but we might want to find our way back

to the rest of the tour before all the prison ghosts

come out for the evening.

Yeah, m-maybe you're right.

Hmm... Let me just take a look around.

Maybe down this way.

- (gasps) - There's only one track to get back on,

and it leads straight from this prison

to the bank where you take on a second mortgage.

Your underwear always feels wet, front and back.

Then your arms fall off.

You start yelling at the sink,

and then you die... die... die.

(gasps) You know what? On second thought,

let's just go a little further

and see if I can get my bearings.

If you're scared, Judy, you can hold my hand.

No, thanks, Gill.

But you can hold your own hand and pretend it's mine.

Really? Thank you.

Our hands fit perfectly together.

Good news, everyone, this is starting to look...

- (all scream) - Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.

You guys know I love to swivel in a chair in complete darkness.

It's one of my main personality traits.

I told you this tour would be filled with chills and thrills.

(chuckles): But everything's fine.

- Okay, let's keep... (screams) - (others gasp)

Mountain Dew Code Crap! Not my beautiful brother!

Ham! Say something! Are you alive?!

- Ha, I'm okay, guys. - Oh, thank God.

For a minute I thought you were gone,

and we have so many plans together, like how we were gonna

wear each other's jeans and not tell anyone.

You sure you're all right, bud?

Oh, yeah. Yup, yup.

I-I just got surprised when there was a floor

and then suddenly there wasn't a floor.

Wolf, this has been super fun,

but we might want to turn around now?

Yup, just the regular old tour

of regular old Death Cliff Prison might be nice.

- OLD WOLF: Yoo-hoo! - Hmm? - You know, just walking

- and looking and checking stuff off our worksheets. - Oh.

Um, uh, yeah. I-I know what you're saying, Judy,

but now that we're at the barbershop,

I've got my bearings back.

I remember Cheesecake sat in that chair

and asked for The Rachel.

The place I'm taking you to is right around the next corner.

Let me just show you guys this one amazing thing,

and then we'll go back.

Okay. I guess.

All right! Here we go.

Everybody follow me. Aah! O-Okay.

E-Everyone watch the hole there.

Now here we go. (laughs, sighs)

Okay, okay. This looks familiar.

I think this is it. (laughs) Guys!

- Come here, come here! - I found it! - Wow.

Welcome to the most gorgeous cell

in all of Alaska's prison system,

the solitary confinement cell

they called the "underwater coffin."

JUDY: Look at that view!

This is more like solitary just-fine-ment.

(chuckles) Okay.

(scoffs) This is so much better than my room

that it makes me sick.

I feel like I'm on Big Little Lies.

Told you it'd be worth it.

WOLF: All right, everybody

get out your lunches. We'll have a little

bite to eat and then circle back

with the squares and fill out those worksheets.

Let those chaper-oldies up there bore their groups to turds.

"Up there, it's their time.

Down here, it's our time." Goonies.

What on earth are you talking about?

HONEYBEE: Oh, hey, Moon. Glad you could

get a ride home. Your dad's just about

to make his big entrance as a poet.

Come on in, Beef!

MOON: Oh, yeah. That's a poet.

Yup, it's almost there.

Could I give you a few adjustments?

- Please. - Okay. Come in again,

but this time stop in the middle and chuckle knowingly.

Yeah. Then look off into the distance

as you contemplate the sound of a leaf falling.

And you should have a slight cough

- from writing outside in the elements by the river. - Got it.

Oh, how about a limp from a duel you were in

with your lover Calista's husband?

And would it kill you to be exhausted

by the beauty that's all around you?

Okay. Chuckle. Cough. Limp. Exhaustion. Got it.

(chuckles)

(coughs)

Oh, look at that beauty.

Boy, I'm tired.

That is good. Oh, one last thing.

Let's mess up your beard.

Poets are always a little shabby.

My friend Armando was constantly mistaken

for a scarecrow when we were picnicking.

All right, that ought to do it.

Should we get in the car and set this poetry in motion?

Seriously, what is this family doing to me?

One more thing-- I have to write an actual poem.

Oh, yeah... I forgot about that part.

You got 20 minutes. Go, go, go.

All right. Now I just have to come up with a poem.

Let's see. Maybe one of these fragments could inspire me.

Hmm. Well, this one is covered in barbecue sauce.

Gonna throw that out.

And, uh, this one just says, "Good morning, rake."

Oh, man, this is gonna be terrible.

And now, a man who promised me in the woods that he was a poet.

A man who I might be able to love,

but absolutely everything is riding on this moment.

If this poem isn't good,

then my nascent feelings for him will dry up

and blow away like ash.

Fingers crossed. Here he is, Beef Tobin.

Poem. Poem. Barf. Barf. Poem.

That's not a poem.

(echoing): Liar!

(shudders)

What rhymes with "God help me"?

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm sure going to miss

this solitary confinement cell in an abandoned prison.

Hey, um, why did they call it the underwater coffin anyway?

Oh, it's not always so nice.

Uh, we were here at a good time of day.

They would literally send people in here to die.

See the holes they drilled in the wall there?

It floods during high tide.

But what a way to go, huh?

So, we're in a cell that floods with icy cold water?

Yeah, but we're fine now.

The tide's just starting to come in.

Okay, everybody. Pack your snacks. We're headed back.

Huh. How did this get closed?

GILL: Oh, I closed that.

My mom's been getting on me about

my door-closing bathroom etiquette lately.

She's gonna be so proud when I tell her.

Uh... guys.

WOLF: Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh, man.

Wolf, should you maybe use your cell phone to call Mr. Golovkin?

Oh, right, yep. (stammers)

Okay, there's no signal. Uh, a-anybody else getting one?

- OTHERS: No. - Okay, nobody panic. I'm gonna get us out of here.

Oh, great. How?!

Okay, let's see, locked cell

in an abandoned wing of the prison,

far from anyone else,

slowly filling up with cold ocean water.

Just, uh... give me one more minute.

(sighs) Well, if I'm going to die in an abandoned prison,

I'm glad it's with you, Ham.

This guy with the romance.

How lucky am I?

(Beef coughing)

- Beef? Are you okay? - Ah, yes.

My cough comes from writing in the river,

and the limp from dueling with your lover.

Oh, I'm so sorry, I just heard a leaf fall.

Oh, wonderful.

I can't hear leaves. I have leaf deafness.

What I would give to hear a leaf again.

There are certain sounds I can't hear

because I was struck by lightning.

Leaf sounds, dubstep, certain truck engines,

and ironically, thunder.

Well, I better go put the snacks on the table.

I love making the Cheez-Its into a little fan shape.

Can't wait to hear that poem, Beef.

Oh, God.

Ham, boost me up!

(grunts) Anyone with a belt?

- I need it now, please. - What's it worth to you?

John, I like and respect you just the way you are,

but we don't have time for drama right now.

Fine, but you have to admit,

what we just did was a little dramatic.

Okay, yes! The belt.

Wolf, are you gonna use these to climb out?

- Uh-huh. - No, it's too dangerous!

Judy, I got us into this acting like a kid.

I need to get us out of it acting like an adult.

I was being a ding-dang fool

because a guy in a fire extinguisher cabinet

had me worrying about second mortgages.

- What? - Never mind.

If I can lower myself to the rock below the window

with these belts, I should be able to scale

the rest of the cliff.

Just like a little billy goat right to the top.

Uh-uh. You get out of here.

But your arms-- they'll fall off

if you act like an adult.

Shut up, Old Wolf! You have no power over me!

I'm really worried about your brother.

I don't think he should get that second mortgage.

Don't leave! We need help!

We're not leaving.

We're having our lunch break.

Wait, where's your group? Why are you wet?

I screwed up big-time.

I just wanted them to think I was still young enough

to hang out with them and do something crazy,

but then I did something actually crazy

and very, very stupid.

- Where are they? - Okay, this is gonna sound bad,

but they're in a cell called the underwater coffin.

- It's actually really beautiful. - Stop talking. Let's move.

And if you should see a baby stork

Flying through the midnight sky

Is he delivering himself?

Do I hear his forlorn cry?

Who delivers the baby storks?

With their parents busy delivering us

Young birds, forsaken

Who can they trust?

- Thank you. - Thank you, Santiago.

Another poem about storks,

and just as enjoyable as all the others.

Now, I'm very pleased to introduce

a poet I found in the woods this morning.

His name is Beef Tobin,

and he's going to read an original poem.

Hello, everyone. This is my poem.

It is called "Good Morning, Rake."

(clears throat)

There I was, walking by the lake...

Um, I'm sorry, let me... let me start again.

Or rather, start over.

I, uh... Oh, boy.

Greta, this morning, um, with the birds,

I was stirred by your smiling face,

and my vision blurred.

And-and, yes, I mistakenly blurted out a half-truth,

making me a fool, and here is the proof.

I am not a poet-- I'm sorry, it's true--

but my lie bloomed from my feelings,

my feelings for you.

(applause)

Dad, I think you should have coughed a little more,

but overall it was pretty good.

I'm sorry again, Teachio.

Wolf, we talked about "Teachio."

And apology accepted,

but I'm going to save you a lot of heartache

and give you a piece of advice.

Being the fun adult never works.

It's impossible to ride that line successfully

without ending up looking like a fool

and maybe getting arrested for a stunt at a skate park.

Just ask my stepbrother Glarn.

I could have followed in his footsteps very easily

when I first started teaching

if I'd given in to my ridiculous desire to be liked.

Kids crave boundaries from adults, not friendship.

They can still like you even if you're not their friend.

You're right. I'm sorry I dropped the chaperone ball.

I guess I can't have my childhood cake

and eat it, too.

They still have adult cake, Wolf.

And the great thing about adult cake is

it can be anything you want.

It can even be a model train set

you've put thousands of hours and dollars into

but still feel weirdly ashamed of.

You're a grown-up, you shouldn't have it,

but you love to see those choo choos go round.

Thanks, Mr. Golovkin.

You can call me Theodore. We're both adults.

Do all adults call each other Theodore?

I-Is that a thing?

- N-No, Wolf. That's my name. - Oh, copy that.

Greta, sorry I lied to you about being a poet.

Well, I hate to say this

because I hate when other people say it,

but I think you are a poet, and you may just not know it.

Well, perhaps we could have coffee sometime

and just chat about poetry.

I think reading off a menu is more the level

of public speaking I'm used to.

Coffee with you would be great.

We could even call it a...

- Mmm, date? - Yes.

That's exactly the word.

How do you do that?

I'm sorry I almost got you and all your friends killed today.

My bad. I didn't want to be an Adult Arnold,

and I almost accidentally became a Murdering Michael.

I guess being responsible doesn't have to be a bad thing.

But I promise, I'm still gonna watch

Dakota: A Cowboy at College with you,

and I'll never let my arms fall off.

Well, I'm glad to hear that, Wolf,

because you'll need them for hugging.

(chuckles): Get in here!

GOLOVKIN: Safety protocol!

From one adult to another,

you frigging got it, Theodore.

♪ Cowpoke, they think I'm some kinda joke ♪

♪ These slick city boys with their whiskey and Coke ♪

And I, I refuse ♪

To let this city brand me ♪

Hey, there's Taffiny ♪

And my best friend Jim ♪

♪ His boyfriend's a dancer whose name is Tim ♪

This small-town cowboy ♪

Might make this city his own ♪

This college cowboy ♪

Might bring some knowledge home. ♪

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH