All language subtitles for mr_belvedere_s04e11_commentary

Mr. Belvedere, I finally did it. What?
Joined the foreign legion?

No, it's my report card.

See, I got straight A's. So, you're a
demented genius who always gets straight

A's. Why, Mr. Belvedere, you didn't look
at the tip for us. Oh.

Conduct, excellent. Attitude, excellent.

Health, habit, satisfactory.

I think that's for the day I had chili.

It's one of the finest forgeries I've
ever seen.

Hey, I don't forge things.

What about that note two years ago?

The one to get you out of square dancing
for religious reasons.

Yeah, well, that was the old me, and
this is real.

Fine, Wesley, but I'll have to put it
through the usual test.

You know, fingerprints, handwriting
analysis.

You haven't been on the rack in a while.

Come on, honey, don't be so nervous.

You're going to do just fine.

I know.

It's just I've never done an editorial
on TV before.

I mean, what if I'm no good or somebody
with an opposing viewpoint comes down to

the station and pops me in the push?

It might help your rating.

I got my report card.

Great, JoJo.

You've got an excellent and classy
citizenship.

Yes, ma 'am.

What'd they do, Wes? Keep you bound and
gagged?

No, I even got this note from my
teacher.

Wesley is an exemplary student who has
shown remarkable improvement in both his

behavior and his willingness to work
with others.

His voluntary termination of the
floating crap game is also appreciated.

Signed, Mrs. Carstola.

Congratulations, honey.

Yeah, way to go, pal.

Guess you forgot our deal.

Huh? I had a feeling virtue wasn't its
own reward.

You guys said if I improve my classroom,
Meena could get a new bike, just like

how he helped Nagel.

Oh, yeah, right.

Okay, pal, a deal's a deal. We'll go
pick it out tomorrow.

Just run the usual test.

Prince of Volgograd, the world's oldest
man, Vladimir Charnesky, celebrated his

159th birthday today.

When asked about the secret to his
longevity, Mr. Chernesky replied, hard

fresh air, and a good woman.

Tragically, after attempting to blow out
his birthday candles, Mr. Chernesky

collapsed of lung failure and died.

Certainly a sad story, right?

Indeed it is, Sammy.

I just wonder how his parents are taking
it.

And speaking of old -timers...

It's time to turn the sport and our own
George over.

Thanks, Skip.

Tonight, George begins with his first in
a series of hard -hitting sports

commentaries. If it's provocative or
controversial, you can bet our George is

going to tackle it.

Right, Skip.

You know, folks, on the way to work
today, I took in a couple of innings of

Little League game. And while I was
watching those little tykes out there, I

realized something.

All of those kids were wearing batting
helmets.

Now, I know they aren't exactly facing
Nolan Ryan or Dwight Gooden out there on

the pitcher's mound, but what if they
were and they didn't have those helmets

on? Hey, I don't even want to think
about it. But luckily, I don't have to,

because those helmets have been required
ever since Little League began, and

this is one hombre who thinks it ought
to stay that way. So here's a big George

Owens high -five to all those Little
Leaguers for using their heads and their

helmets. Yep.

What?

I'm done.

Oh.

George, is somebody trying to abolish
these helmets?

No. I just saw them and I think they're
a good idea.

I see.

George Owens' views are not necessarily
those of the station or its management.

Channel 8 welcomes opposing viewpoints
and anyone who...

Seals that little children shouldn't
wear. Protective headgear.

Please feel free to write.

We'd love to know who you are.

And here, with a look at the weather, is
our own Larry Mendel.

I'm home.

Oh, honey.

Yes?

So, did you see my editorial?

Uh -huh.

What do you think?

Well, it certainly seemed to be the
right length.

Hey, I know it stunk. I mean, some
editorial.

Who's going to be against batting
helmets?

I am.

At least when Wesley's at the place.

So did they say anything at the station?

Nah, nothing much.

Just if I don't come up with a decent
topic, they're going to kill the whole

segment. Next thing you know, I'll be
out on the streets.

Well then, how about something along the
lines of job security?

Who needs it?

Perhaps I do.

This person reported that both Siamese
twins were doing well after the historic

surgery to separate them.

That's certainly happy news, right, Dip?
Sure is, Tammy.

Of course, there's nothing historic
about the way I separate my Siamese.

I just turn the hose on them.

And now it's time to buckle up for
another jaundiced look at sports with

very own George Owen.

What's the hot topic tonight, George?

Mandatory seatbelts for race car
drivers?

No, Skip.

Tonight I'd like to talk about something
that bugs me every time I go out to the

old ballpark.

It's not the price of a ticket or having
to play bumper cars in the parking lot

or even those soggy hot dog buns. What
really bugs me is the national anthem.

Who needs it?

I mean, there you are, all cozy in your
seats with your popcorn and peanuts and

Cracker Jacks.

when some joker says please rise and
join anybody from robert merrill to some

fat broad from the ladies bowling league
who's singing oh say can you see i mean

let's face it it's not that great a song
to begin with and even if it was

nobody's paying any attention anyway i
mean the players are sitting in the

dugouts spitting tobacco the eight guys
in the bleachers are ticked off because

the beer lines closed for the next two
minutes and everybody else starts

and screaming before the song is half
over anyway

So, to heck with all this patriotic
mumbo -jumbo.

Let's dump the national anthem and play
ball.

Yes,

well, that's the news for now.

We'll all be back tonight at 11.

Hopefully.

That ought to get us a few cards and
letters.

You're welcome.

George, that was Mr. Franklin, the owner
of the station. He'd like to see you in

a box right now.

Oh, yeah?

He probably wants to congratulate me on
my editorial.

I'm sure that's it.

It's open.

Mr. Franklin?

Close the door, please.

Do you see this picture hanging on the
wall here?

Uh, yeah.

Stay behind the white line, please.

It's a photograph of a handful of brave
Marines raising the flag over Iwo Jima.

I was there, George.

Were you?

Uh, no, I was only ten.

Got a pretty good picture of me on a
pony, though.

I like our flag, George.

I like to salute it.

And I like our national anthem.

I like to sing it.

And I don't spit when it's playing, nor
do I yell before it's over.

And I think I'm a pretty regular Joe,
don't you, George?

Yes, sir, Mr. Franklin.

But what I meant... I don't care what
you meant, George.

I want your resignation on my desk by
0800 tomorrow morning.

What? You are...

Why does Tropicana taste so good?

Because it's made with nothing but 100 %
pure grease orange juice.

Never from Constantine.

Always has been.

Always will be.

Tropicana Pure Premium Orange Juice.

Feel yourself as last today.

Well, look who's here. Yeah.

So what did you think of my commentary?

I enjoyed it.

But then I never liked this country
anyway.

Oh, hi, honey.

How was work?

Do you still have any?

Mr. Franklin wants me to resign.

Oh, that's not fair.

You were just making a cute little
ironic point.

I'm sure people know that you didn't
mean it.

Huffnagle came charging out of the house
throwing stuff at me and calling me a

communist.

I tried to tell him I was a social
pragmatist.

That's when Grandma Huffnagle beat me
with a tomato.

That's it.

I'm finished.

Hey, that's not true.

I mean, from a legal standpoint, they
can't force you to quit.

You have a contract that still has a
year to go.

Right.

As long as you honor your part of the
contract, they still have to pay you.

Yeah, right.

I mean, as long as I keep showing up,
what's the worst they can do to me?

Good morning.

It's 4 a .m. and this is Farm Report.

Pork bellies held steady while soybeans
flow slightly higher.

This is the story on the economic
promise, and I'll take the mid -air

Oh, sure, and yesterday you got the
hospital fire.

Thanks, Sam.

Okay, candy, cream, no sugar, skip you
the decaf, cafe au lait, extra foam.

Thank you, George.

You know, George, we both feel really
bad about you losing a sports job and

having to do all this.

Aren't I supposed to get an amaretto
cookie?

Hey, look, it's okay.

I mean, my contract says I got to do it
the stage myself, and that's what I'm

going to do.

I'll go get your cookie.

Hey, guys, is that Drabowski sort of
thing? Shh.

You talking about Dick Drabowski?

Mr. Price shot himself in the face?

Yeah, George, he's coming in to do
sports.

What? Well, I thought Skip was going to
keep doing it. I was, but they said I

was getting too emotional over the
hockey score.

Well, George, I see you're still with
us.

Yes, sir, Mr. Franklin.

I did the farm report, made coffee, and
swept up the studio.

Did you polish the transmitter?

I was just going out for some brassel.

You know, George, I had you pegged as a
quitter, but I guess I was wrong.

I mean, I tried to do everything in my
power to humiliate and degrade you, but

you held your ground.

And you're still here.

Yes, sir, I sure am.

I guess I'm just going to have to try a
little harder.

What happened?

Did the Toys R Us explode?

President, did you buy all these?

No, I got them on a pool so I could see
which one I really want.

But I still can't decide.

Yes, well, sometimes having too many
choices is worse than having none at

Oh, yeah.

Kind of like the first time I took you
to 31 flavors.

I'm only at one of these.

You know what, Mr. Belvedere? Maybe I
just don't need all these toys and

anymore. Hmm, sounds to me like
someone's growing up.

I think I'll just ask for a weekend in
Vegas.

Hey, guys.

Hey, Dad. Hello, George.

I'm not getting all this. I'm going to
Caesar's Palace instead.

That's great, Jim.

I guess you're not the only one with a
problem.

Hey, guys.

Hello.

Where's your father?

I think he's upstairs taking a nap. Oh,
poor baby.

He has to get up so early to do that
stupid farm report.

But he looks so jacking in his big
overalls.

Actually, Dad says something about not
doing farm report anymore.

Really? Hey, maybe we put him back on
sports.

Bye, guys.

You're running away from home, Dad.

No, pal. They replaced me with some ex
-jock named Jabowski, so now they're

making me do some kid's show.

Hey! No, but no!

I love that show!

I mean, I used to.

real guy.

All I know is the cops came and slapped
the cuffs on him during the Chili Willie

cartoon.

So what are you wearing this now for?

On my way to work, I got to appear at
two birthday parties and a grand opening

of a Korean driving school.

Don't worry, honey. Everything's going
to be okay.

But what if I'm a lousy hobo Joe?

Come on, Dad. You're going to be great.
Yeah, George.

If anyone can fill hobo Joe's shoes, you
can.

Don't see many cartoons from Albania.

What did you think, Dumpster Dog?

That was real good, Obojo.

I'm going back down now and eat some
more garbage.

See you, Dumpster Dog.

Remember, kids, you should eat garbage.
But if you do, don't forget to brush.

I'll be back with more cartoon fun
tomorrow.

Coming up on the news, a terrorist
hijacking, the Dow Jones Thomas and Ed

Jones Wilson is arraigned in superior
court.

Well, so long, boys and girls.

What are you doing here, Belvedere?

Well, I haven't been in the
neighborhood.

I thought it might be nice if somebody
bought you some coffee.

Oh, thanks, big guy.

I can't take this anymore, Belvedere.
I'm quitting.

Oh, look, George, you can take far more
humiliation than this.

I've seen you in public with your
family.

Hey, George.

I caught the show.

You look pretty good up there.

You may be wearing it permanently.

Look, Mr. Franklin, I've been thinking,
maybe I should just go and... We'll go

on air in 30 seconds. Why aren't you at
your desk?

Because our new sportscaster just made
hoops on his.

What?

He's about to be drunk.

Well, there must be some other
sportscaster someplace around here.

Okay, Skip, you take the sports tonight.
I don't want to. Last time, you hurt my

feelings.

Okay, Suzuki, you take it.

No, we think George should do it.

Don't look at me.

All right, Owens, you're on tonight.

But it doesn't mean anything.

Yes, sir.

You're on the air.

This is the Metro News 4 o 'clock report
with Skip Hollings, Rami Suzuki, Larry

Mendez with the weather, and somebody
with the sports.

I'm Tammy Sabuki.

And I'm Skip Hollis.

Before we get to our top story, Tammy
and I would like to welcome back an old

friend here at the Metro desk, a man
whose judgment may be questionable, but

whose integrity and sincerity is never
in doubt, George Owen.

Hi, Skip.

Hi, boys and girls.

I guess last week I sort of upset a lot
of people when I said we should dump the

national anthem.

And I appreciate getting the chance
to... tell everybody that i still mean

mean why shouldn't we get rid of it
nobody seems to care anymore i can

when i was a kid going out to forbes
field with my old man when that star

spangled banner started playing people
stood up straight and put their hats

their hearts and sang so loud the whole
place shook sometimes there'd be

soldiers in wheelchairs and they
couldn't stand on their own There'd be

to help them.

I guess we were pretty proud back then,
and maybe I was just wishing things

could be like that again.

Skip?

I can't.

Tammy?

Today in the Persian Gulf, Navy
helicopters were fired upon us. They

their stepped -up surveillance of the
troubled region.

Hey, guys.

Hi, Tammy. See y 'all?

I saw you. Yeah, Dad, you were great.
Oh, yeah?

Yeah. Especially the part when you were
talking to Dumpster Dog.

The part when you were talking about
Daddy's speech on the news.

Oh, right.

What did you do?

What did they give you your job back?

Yeah, but I'm not allowed to do any more
editorial work. I still got to finish

polishing the clamps in it.

That's great.

Hey, guys, I finally figured out what I
wanted for my good report card.

Fishing rod, but you make fishing.

I know, but Dad loves it, and he's been
having such a tough time at work lately,

I figured I might cheer him up.

I didn't have the heart to tell him.

So, Dad, haven't you back on the news?
You still going to be doing Hobo Joe?

Oh, yeah, they wanted me to, but luckily
they found somebody else.

Hi there, boys and girls.

And with no opinions to give, he can now
concentrate on fouling up the baseball

scores. As for me, my career as Hobo Joe
was both brief and desirous.

Apparently those little cretins out in
TV land prefer their barnyard cartoons

my episodes of Upstairs, Downstairs.

I even got a nasty letter from Kevin.

But no matter, the whole affair was
rather silly and beneath me in the first

place.

Isn't that right, Dumpster Dog?