All language subtitles for Homebound s02e03.eng

(CHOIR SINGS)

- If you ever find yourself faced with the question,
'Should I send my child to public or private school?'

just ask yourself � do you want them
doing weed or cocaine?

- And that, in short, is my summary
of gravitational theory.

- Marvellous. Absolutely marvellous.

It reminds me of Antoine de
Saint-Exupery's Le Petit Prince.

(SPEAKS FRENCH)

Unfortunately, our waitlist is prohibitively
long, and Yoel is just a little too late to the race.

- Oh. How late?

- Well, most of our candidates have
been waiting since they're in utero, so...

five, six, seven years,
give or take?

There is, however,

one tiny exemption.

(DOOR BANGS)

- No. Absolutely not.

- Oh, come on, Melissa.

Sherrigate Brooks is the only private school in
the country with a junior astronaut cadets programme.

- More like some
white-collar terrorist incubator.

I'm not sending my kid there.
- WHISPERS: Your kid's not even real.

- Exactly. So... what's the point?

- The point is, we're too late for the waitlist,
but they have this family legacy thing

where if you enrol two kids from
the same family at once, you're in.

So just help us out
and enrol your fake goddamn baby.

- I said no. It's the principle.

- MUUUUUM!

- What?

- Melissa's trying to stop Yoel
from going to space!

- What?
- Peter!

- (SPEAKS MANDARIN)

- (SPEAKS MANDARIN)
- Melissa!

That's his dream.

- Oh my God. Can you guys just�

- Yes, that's his dream!

- Henry, tell my mum and dad why we're not
sending our kid to some douchebag private school.

Henry?

- Huh?

- 'Ah, crap. Guess our fake kid's
going to the cocaine school.'

- # I've been hearing colours.

- # Hearing colours.

- # This time, I took too much.

- Well, well, well. I have to say,
this is highly esoteric.

A novelist who's also a lawyer, and a doctor
who competes in elite level hobby-horse roller derby.

Well, it's official. This is exactly the
kind of X factor our school is looking for.

- Send in the cherub.
- The cherub?

- You have officially progressed
to the next stage.

- Uh� the next stage?
- Yes, the next stage.

You see, what makes Sherrigate Brooks truly
exceptional is not what we instil in our students,

but it's you, the parents.

Even though you are just one fleeting palpitation
in this school's collective beating heart,

believe me when I say we curate our
heartbeat very, very methodically,

and this is our head of IT, Jeff �
please, the floor is yours.

- Your stage two task will be to take
care of this e-baby for the next three days.

- Be warned � despite its cute,
innocent, doe-eyed appearance,

- you are looking at the most advanced
AI-powered baby simulator ever commissioned.

- Awesome.

- For the next three days,
your parenting will be analysed,

collated and peer-assessed against every
other parent who has made it this far,

and the top three parents with the
highest e-baby satisfaction score

will earn direct entry
to this illustrious establishment.

- Thank you, Jeffrey.

So, Henry, Melissa �
what do you say?

Will we be announcing your name at
our annual Tango-a-thon fundraiser this weekend?

Time will tell.

- (CHUCKLES AWKWARDLY)
- Hmm.

50 K a year, just to be told
be a good parent?

God. They should call this place
Scammergate Brooks.

- (E-BABY SHRIEKS, CRIES)
- MANDY: Melissa!

What are you doing?!
- (E-BABY WHOOPS)

- Come on. You can be a robo-parent
for a few days.

- Uh� we don't need to do anything.
We have already done our job. Right, Henry?

- Sorry, but your mum did say all we
had to do was attend the interview.

- Oh, come on, bro.
(DOOR BANGS)

- MAN: Melissa!

- Toby.

What the hell are you�?
- Hi, Melissa.

- Oh.
- Oh. Don't you mean congrats?

Let me guess. You're here peddling overpriced
sheep-placenta face masks to pimply hormonal teens.

- No. But that's actually
a good idea.

For when our child
eventually attends this school.

- Oh.

- Oh, what, you didn't think
I was over you too?

I have to say, after sleeping with
all five of Toby's groomsmen, especially Gael �

no shade on your baby, bro,
but oof, I was completely reborn.

And that's when I met Henry,
and now here we are,

looking for an exorbitant but necessary
education for our prospective bubba.

- Well, Melissa, I'm pleased to hear you've
clearly taken the high road and... moved on.

- Congratulations.
And may the best e-parents win.

- Oh, we will.

Because we�

- E-BABY: Whee!
- ...are about to parent the shit out of this thing.

Literally and figuratively.

Enjoy wiping your e-baby's arse,
because at the Tango-a-thon fundraiser,

it's gonna explode in your face.

Let's go.

- What's wrong with her?

- SQUEALS: Yes!
- WHISPERS: Yes!

- OK. Go.

(UPBEAT ELECTRIC GUITAR MUSIC)

- (E-BABY GIGGLES)

(E-BABY COOS HAPPILY)

- # If there's clouds in the sky,
you can dry your eyes.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

- If there's rain up above,
you can give your love

# every day.

- Oh. Yeah.

- # Every day.

# When you smile at me,

# I can see you're giving

# all the love that we share,

# and it's all I'm living for
every day,

# every day.

# Ah, ah.

- (E-BABY CRIES)

- # If the rain and the snow

# and the ice is cold,

# deep inside, love is new,

# and the sun comes shining through
every day.

# Every day.

- # Every day is sun...
- # Every day is sun...

- # Every day is sun...
- # Every day is sun...

- # ...shine! #

- OK. We fed and burped
that e-baby four times,

and it's showered, napped,
pooped and fully charged. - Check.

- Vaughn and Yoel have socialised it with both human
and AI life forms of comparable emotional maturity.

- BOTH: Check.

- Mr and Mrs Li have exercised it,

Mum and Dad have delivered six times
15 minutes of early childhood general education.

- BOTH: Check.

- BOTH: Check.

- (SCOFFS) Great. We should have
one happy robot e-baby.

- (CRIES)

- Oh!
- Ugh! What is wrong? What's happening?

- Shh-shh.
- Is it nappy time again?

- No, it's dry.
- (E-GRIZZLES) - Oh! It can't be hungry.

Mum, Dad? Anyone?
- (BAWLS)

(E-WHIMPERS)

(POWERS UP TO CRY)
- Jesus Christ! What the hell?

- Henry, please.
I think it just wants its father.

- Mel, it's a computer. It couldn't
possibly tell that I'm its father.

- TINNY: Father?

- Whoa! Did it just call me Dada?

- Da-da-da-da�Dada!

- CHUCKLES: Oh my God, this is
incredible. Why didn't you tell me?

(CYBERNETIC WHIRRING) It must have
some kind of facial recognition software,

but... where's its camera?

- Henry, can you stop looking for
its camera and just put it to bed? I'm exhausted.

- But I haven't finished
my chapter yet.

- Da-da-da-DADA! (SCREECHES)

- Jesus Christ.
- Oh, thank God.

- (E�GRIZZLES)
- Ugh� - Good luck.

- STAMMERS: But� Hey� (SIGHS)
- (E-GRIZZLES)

- All right, OK.

What's the matter, you?

- (E-GRIZZLES SOFTLY)

- (CHUCKLES) Has everybody
been obsessing over you?

- (GURGLES IN AGREEMENT)

- And it's been a little bit
overwhelming?

- (GURGLES)

- SIGHS: OK. Come on.

GRUNTS: Oh...

Would you like me
to tell you a story?

- (COOS HAPPILY)

- OK, here goes.

In the beginning,
there was the universe...

- OK, so I was thinking,
what if time is quantumtised? - (YAWNS)

- I mean, we all think of time
as this one continuous thing,

but what if it actually jumped
from one moment to the next,

leaving these infinitesimal gaps
for other realities, i.e. universes?

- GURGLES: Huh?

- I mean, like, if your computer's CPU could
time-share itself with multiple applications,

why can't time itself
also be time-sharing itself with other universes?

- (GURGLES)

- No?
- (GURGLES)

- SIGHS: Oh, you're right.
It's stupid.

Oh, why is writing so hard?

- (GURGLES WARMLY)

- Thanks, buddy.

- Uh... what's going on here,
and what are you teaching it?

- Nothing.
We were just jamming ideas.

Turns out this little kiddo's AI is�
phew, out there.

Did you miss your mummy?
Want to give her a kiss?

Mmm.

- Mwah!
- (CHUCKLES) Oh, sweet.

You sleep OK?

- Uh...
- I made some breakfast.

- YOEL: Pancakes?

I love pancakes.

- Morning, Yoel. Come on. Scoot up
next to your cousin over here.

We got a big couple of days ahead.

- What are we doing?
- We have got a competition to win.

Right, kiddo?

- (GURGLES HAPPILY)

- Is he gonna eat those?

Can I eat those?

(SENTIMENTAL GUITAR MUSIC SWELLS)

(TANGO MUSIC PLAYS)

- How's he doing? Is he warm enough?

I've got two back-up chargers, a spare
jacket, and some more digital yoghurt pouches.

Do you think he wants some nuts?
- WHISPERS: Babe.

- Is his nappy fresh?
- Babe.

- Maybe we should read him
one last book. - Babe.

Look at him.
- (COOS)

- He's fine. We got this.

- Mr Henry and Melissa �
your e-baby, please.

- (POWERS UP)

(ELECTRONIC SQUAWK)

- Good luck.

- WHISPERS: How do you think we went?

- Guess we'll find out.

- PRINCIPAL: Thank you. Thank you.

Gracias.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please put your hands together

for DJ Fuego

and the Nuevas Galerias
del Tango Aotearoa.

(APPLAUSE, CHEERING)

- Now, I know some of you
have been asking

why an annual autumn Tango-a-thon
fundraiser for Sherrigate Brooks?

Well, the reason stretches
all the way back...

- WHISPERS: I think we've got this.

- Uh, yeah. We just did a loop
to check out the competition, and they all suck.

- Yeah, I just spoke to a couple
over there whose e-baby lost a limb.

- DAVE: Yeah, and those two
over there have a cracked screen,

and the couple next to them are
clearly dealing with water-damaged nappy sparks.

- What about Toby and Lisa?
- I mean, their baby looks pretty miserable.

- ELLIE: Yeah, I wouldn't even
worry about them.

- Really? I thought
they were smashing it.

- Oh my God, Dave.
- Shut up.

- What?
I'm just calling how I see it.

- And just like the slums
from which the tango emerged,

we too at Sherrigate Brooks must
stay in touch with the streets.

Vive la rue!

- GUESTS: Vive la rue!

- Yeah, this place is super wanky.
- God, shh! We want this, remember?

- And on that note, now it is time
to announce the three families

who have earned their place
at Sherrigate Brooks.

Jeffrey?

(MIC FEEDBACK WHINES)
- (CLEARS THROAT)

On the count of three, the eyes of the e-babies
belonging to the top three winning applicants

will shine bright blue.

- WHISPERS: Get ready, buddy.

- One,

two,

three!
(DING!)

- Whoo!
- Oh my God! (APPLAUSE)

(QUIRKY MUSIC)

- (LAUGHS)

- (GROWLS) Oh!

(TANGO MUSIC)

- WHISPERS: Oh, shit.

- (HUFFS) This is bullshit. We gave
that little robot the house of its dreams.

- Maybe we were too protective.

Maybe if it lost a limb, it would have given
it some independent learning opportunities.

- Henry, I don't think losing a limb is a
prerequisite for obtaining essential life skills.

- I'm sorry, buddy,
I really thought we had this.

Next time, I won't bore you so much
with my stupid book.

- SADLY: Hey...
- Thanks.

- Hey.

For what it's worth,

I thought you were
a really great dad.

- Really?
- (CHUCKLES)

- Thanks.

- You were also quite the mum.

- Yeah.

- (CHUCKLES WRYLY)
I don't know about that.

- JEFF: Attention! Could all visitors with designated
e-babies please return them to the office?

I repeat �
could all parenting failures

please return their e-babies
to the office for deactivation.

Thank you.

- Well � guess this is it.

It's time to send you back
to your deep electrical sleep.

Any final words?

- (SCOFFS) Henry, seriously �
it's just a bunch of electrical wires

in a big plastic
pink bucket-like head, and...

(GENTLE PIANO MUSIC)

...I'm gonna miss you.

- MEWS: I love you too.

(RUSHING)

- Stop! Don't take it back just yet.

- Uh� what's going on?

- OK, look, I know it's just
a beta version, but check this out.

(BEEP)
- Conspiracy Not Conspiracy �

is Sherrigate Brooks operating
an unlawful discriminatory admissions scandal?

- APP: Inconclusive.
Insufficient evidence.

- See, bro? It says inconclusive.
- Something's not right.

- And we managed to swipe
IT Jeff's scanner.

(BEEPING SURGES)

(BEEPING STOPS)

See? Off the charts. There is no way
that those other parents beat you.

- And I tried hacking into the
thing, but it's just a shell drive.

The data must be sent to
some central offline server.

- Which means there's only
one remaining option.

(INTREPID MUSIC)

- It's Mission: Impossible time.
- I've dreamt about this.

(WALKIE-TALKIE BEEPS, CRACKLES)
- Yeah, we're all clear. Heading back to base.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

- We're on the move.

Talk to me, Mother Hen.

- HENRY: Copy, Moonlight.

You should be approaching the
outside of Principal Edna's office.

By the way, why do you have
a van with all this gear?

- I do a bit of PI work and laundry
on the side. It's nothing fancy.

- Oh.

Anyway, Principal Edna's computer is located on
her desk and is protected by two-factor authentication.

The first layer
is her personal password,

and the second her RSA secure key pass that changes
every 60 seconds and never leaves her waist belt.

- OK, how do we get in?

- Her secretary's stationed there
24-7, so you'll have to use the air ducts.

Dave?

- I couldn't hack the floor plans, but judging
by the building's mid-century infrastructure,

you should be able to get access
in the atrium on the north wing.

(METALLIC CLANK, THUD)

(CLATTER)

(DOOR CREAKS, THUDS)

- We're here. What's next?

- PANTS: I hate stairs.

- Once you're in position, it's a short
trip through the vents before the final drop.

Mandy, you'll be lowered exactly 7.5ft in line
with the centre of Principal Edna's computer monitor.

That way, you can't be seen by the secretary
� as long as you can hold a perfect plank.

- What? Why me?
- Cos you're the smallest.

- Huh?
- And thinnest.

- Yeah, makes sense.
(CLEARS THROAT)

(SUSPENSEFUL, GRITTY TECHNO MUSIC)

(GRITTY MUSIC PLAYS OVER HEADPHONES)

- Oop!
- Be quiet!

- I'm trying. Stop rushing me.

Wait. Hang on.
Aren't there security cameras?

- Don't worry. We're on it.

(INTREPID SPY MUSIC)

Oh, man. I thought
this was the bathroom.

I'm lost as, bro. You gotta help me.
I really need to go wees.

If you don't tell me now, I'm gonna go
in that pot plant in the hallway, man. Quick!

Help! Help! Come on!
- Yeah, all right � not in the pot plant!

- While Vaughn distracts security,

Yoel is gonna plant a transmitter
that'll disable its recording capacity,

also allowing us to review
the footage to find...

- TOGETHER: ...the password.

(HINGE CREAKS)

- Time to shine, moonface.

- Toilets are on the right, mate.
- Thanks, bro. Appreciate it, man.

(TENSE PERCUSSIVE MUSIC)

(INTREPID ORCHESTRAL MUSIC)

- Yeah!

- WHISPERS: She's in position.

(INTREPID MUSIC CONTINUES)

- I got it.

It's 8-0-0-8,

1-3-5.

(COMPUTER CHIMES)

(DRAMATIC MUSICAL STING)

I'm in.
- MELISSA: What about the second?

(TANGO MUSIC PLAYS)

- I'm glad you asked.
- Team Tango is a-go.

(TANGO MUSIC CONTINUES)

- Tell me, amor �

do you trust me to go low?

- Con todo mi corazon y alma.

(DRAMATIC STRING MUSIC)

WHISPERS: 0-5-2-2-9-6.

(BLOWS AIR)

(COMPUTER CHIMES)

- WHISPERS: Voila. We got it.
- Go, Mom.

- OK, now insert the Trojan
USB drive and we're home.

- Come on. Come on...

- It won't go in. Something's wrong.

It's not working.

Oh God, what should I do?

- Try flipping it over.

- Oh. OK.

- Idiot.

(SUSPENSEFUL ORCHESTRAL MUSIC)

- It's in.
- Launching. Wait for scanner.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC CONTINUES)

- GASPS: Oh shit.

- We found it.
20 seconds to file download.

WHISPERS: Come on, come on.

- Come on, come on, come on.

- WHISPERS: Come on, come on.

- Come on.
- That's it.

- WHISPERS: Come on, come on.

(COMPUTER KLAXON BLARES)

- Oh, shit.

- What? What happened?

(VAN DOOR OPENS)

- Nice van, morons.

I was wondering where
the last e-baby was hiding.

(COMPUTER KLAXON BLARES)
- (CLEARS THROAT)

- Hi...

(KLAXON CONTINUES)

(DRAMATIC MUSICAL FLOURISH)

- Well, well, well. You know, our
model predicted that you'd be trouble,

but this is more than
we ever anticipated.

- What are you talking about?
What model?

- Oh, you didn't really think that
e-baby was testing your parenting?

Oh, we loved hearing
your opinions on our school.

What did you call us?
Scammergate Brooks?

- What the hell?
Kiddo, what's going on?

- (CHIRPS SADLY)

- You know, the only thing keeping this
school alive is a few unfathomably rich families.

Their children make up 5%
of the school's population,

yet somehow manage to cause
100% of the scandals.

Any guesses why you've never
heard of any of them?

- VAUGHN: Ooh. Ooh, ooh! Is it because
95% of the parents are easily hushed

because the e-baby's
real AI algorithm

is to identify those parents who are
non-combative and pushovers?

- WHISPERS: And that's a bingo.
- LAUGHS: Oh yeah! I still got it.

I mean... stink, cuz.
Shame on you. - Shame on us indeed.

I really was hoping that your son would get in.
He is just so very talented.

- You're not gonna get away with
this. We'll go to the press.

- The only place you'll be going is the police station.
The authorities are on their way.

Now, as fun as all of this has
been, I'm afraid it ends here.

Jeffrey, disable the e-baby.

- (E�BABY CHIRPS IN PANIC)
- Mr Henry, please �

the e-baby.
- Hey, bro. You better back off.

- Pass the� Give him the baby.
- No, he doesn't want to.

- Mr Henry � please, I insist.
- Take the baby, Jeffrey.

- I said no, he doesn't want to.

- Jeffrey, get the baby!

(DISCORDANT BLARE SURGES)

What's it doing?
- The e-baby � it's creating a backdoor

and sending them
our confidential information.

- Holy moly � the e-baby
hacked the waitlist! We got it!

- Jeffrey, kill that child!

- No worries�
- Stop, stop, stop!

One more move,
and this goes out to the world.

- OK, just hold there, Melissa.
Let's not do anything drastic.

- Yeah? How much is it worth to you
for us to keep this quiet?

(DRAMATIC TANGO MUSIC)

- There you go. As per the terms of
our highly confidential arrangement,

Yoel will be entitled to a full set
of new uniforms every year �

in addition to his scholarship
till graduation...

- Sweet.

- ...a privilege your baby will also
receive when they're old enough.

- Thanks.

- Finally, uh�
as per your last request,

uh� here are all of the accessories for
your e-baby, which you now have full custody of.

Um...

off the record, we've never actually
let them evolve beyond a week.

By my calculations, he should have
the sentience of a teenager by next week,

and I'd� I'd be very curious
to study the progress.

- Um� sure.

You know where to find us.

- Much obliged.

'Scuse me.

- So, was it really necessary
to strip Toby and Lisa of their spot here?

- Nope. But we're gonna make so much money
when we sell our fake baby's spot back to them.

- But what if we want to use it?

- Henry.

- I'm just kidding.

(SULTRY TANGO MUSIC PLAYS)

Tango?

- Someone once said there are no
mistakes in tango, but plenty of scandal.

(CHUCKLES) That's private school
for you. Guess we'll fit right in.

(MUSICAL FLOURISH)

(SULTRY TANGO MUSIC CONTINUES)

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