All language subtitles for the_latest_buzz_s02e04_the_power_tripping_issue

Who here can tell me what a school
president does?

Bans ugly school uniforms.

Organizes school events for no apparent
reason. Makes people call him El

Presidente.

A school president represents the
students and initiatives ways to improve

school on their behalf.

The right answer is never funny.

What about making slogan buttons and
bossing volunteers around?

That would be the campaign manager.

Ooh, sounds like a job I was born to do.

Now, if I only had a president to
campaign manage.

What?

Me?

No! What do you think, guys?

R for president.

I second it. I third.

And fourth it.

What number do I text to cast my vote?

What do you say, Rebecca?

In so many words, I guess so.

That's the kind of energy this campaign
needs.

Watching the time pass, can't wait to
get out, live it out with my friends,

out what's new, don't question on who,
and if that room is true, it's a whole

new scene, in the pages of my magazine.

president will be spectacular.

We'll have lunch five past right, the
big loggers, and get out of gym forever

note.

And you have your next teen buzz
article.

True, but I am a little nervous about
running for school president. What's

to worry about? It's the school
election.

Promise less homework and watch the
votes roll in.

Hi, I'm Cody Herman, a man of the
people.

And I want you to vote for me because I
know what this school needs.

It needs...

The Herman.

Cody, we know each other.

Sure we do.

I was your peer editor at Team Buzz.

I organized your going away party.

Still not ringing any bells.

The girl who had a crush on you?

I never had a crush on you.

Right?

Anyway, at least I can count on your
vote. I'm running in the election

Ooh, dark horse.

Well, uh, good luck, miss.

As if cookies win elections.

Lemon ginger with just the right amount
of zest.

We'd better get baking.

Wilder's column is gamer gold.

You're too kind, gentle reader.

Wilder's column puts the X in extreme
from...

Tony Hawk?

What's that, Tony Hawk?

Wilder should stop talking to his laptop
and write his article.

Good idea.

You can channel Tony Hawk.

Ask him if he got the video of me doing
a fakey 360 kickflip.

Wilder, just get off Buzz's feedback
form and write your article.

Sure, DJ.

Wilder's column is okay?

Since Marty Sam?

Okay.

Dear Smarty Sam, in regards to your
recent comment, I have to say that it's

good.

Booyah! That's telling him.

Done already?

Yep. You know, DJ usually has some sort
of perk for the first person to finish

the article.

I heard this week it's tickets to go see
Simple Plan.

But first, points off for hitting me in
the head.

It's a tie.

But it won't be once you uncouple my
article on music mashes and see that it

beats Amanda's expose on crinolines.

Though not, it takes skills to make
people buy clothing that makes their

derriere look bigger.

Why don't you two just share this week's
perk for finishing first?

I've heard of this sharing thing, but
I've never actually tried it.

Here, you two will write Team Buzz's
advice column this week.

Advice column?

What happened to Simple Plan?

I will never be first at anything again.

Yay! I've always wanted to give advice
to needy strangers.

Hey, we vote a lot. It's time to the
campaign trail.

I book you to speak to the football
team, test club, and the urgency dance

troupe. But these pamphlets need me.

Pamphlets don't win elections.

Pizazz wins elections.

I got pizazz, and here it is in 5 ,000
words.

Orders don't want to read. They want to
meet you, see you, like you.

Give them a 5 ,000 -word smile.

Here.

Put this on.

What for?

You're talking to the dance troupe.

Orders want to feel like you're one of
them, and it wouldn't hurt to practice

your jazz run.

Lift, lift, and smile.

Dear Teen Buzz, what's the best way to
break up with someone?

Easy. Hire a skywriter to write Later
Loser.

Signed, Dr. Noah.

That's mean even by my standards.

Here's how you do it.

First, make sure your birthday isn't
coming up. Needy guys give the best

presents. Then, break up with him in a
place where he can't make a scene. I

suggest the library under the shh sign.

Oh, look. According to my wrist, I need
to go.

Okay. I guess we just won't finish this
article and we'll disappoint DJ.

And my father, who owns this magazine
and has the power to ruin our careers?

Fine. Time to buckle down.

Let's do this.

Write this baby.

But first, another game of quarterback
ball.

Scores.

It's this campaign schedule Michael
made.

It's like a rock star tour. I bounce
from venue to venue, people cheer, and

I'm gone. The only thing missing is the
smoke machine.

Sounds awesome. I have always wanted to
go on a rock and roll tour.

Mr. Shepard, don't be that guy.

Check. Michael hasn't scheduled time for
me to talk about school issues.

He treats this election like a
popularity contest.

which kind of goes against my article.
Elections are not a popularity contest.

True, but maybe your campaign could use
a little, uh... Ooh!

Spice! Hmm.

Uh, you know, to get them to, uh, listen
to your ideas, you might have to get

their attention with a little, uh... Hot
stuff.

Sorry, Mr. Shepard, but this candidate
will not sell out.

Even if I am going to talk to the dance
troupe, I will not wear a pink unitard

just to get their votes.

Hello, Mr. Shepard.

Here's my campaign schedule for your
approval.

Thank you, Cody. I'll

just need about two hours to read this
over.

Hi, Rebecca.

I heard your jazz run was pretty weak.

The dance troupe was much more impressed
with my side shuffle.

Dear Smarty Sam, I see you have logged
on to the Teen Buzz forum, yet have not

apologized.

Do so now, or I will spam you to
infinity. Or until your inbox is full.

Dude.

Hey, DJ.

My article.

I'm finishing up right now.

Oh, hey, DJ. Could you hold? I've got
you on the other line.

DJ! Walter, I see you're on Buzz's
forum.

The homepage is bright orange.

You've left me no other choice but to
deactivate your account until you finish

your article.

No fair. You shouldn't be able to see
this. School is a DJ -free zone.

Why are you in a DJ -free zone?

Because I'm an editor, and wherever my
journals are is my zone.

Vote for Cody, and I'll make this a DJ
-free zone.

Dear Teen Buzz, how do I tell a girl I
like her? Hold your fingers for the

basket. How's that going to work?

Enough with the basketball.

You put $400 worth of quarters and we
haven't answered one question.

You're not taking this seriously.

Sure I am.

If I think this one, I beat my record.

BJ, expect us to hand in the column by
tomorrow.

No problem.

I'll do half the questions and you'll do
the other half.

And then we'll put them together.

It'll be like magic, and DJ won't even
know the difference.

But Dateless and Dixbury will.

Bob, this is more heart -wrenching than
the time my mom sold my Kelly Clarkson

bobblehead doll at a garage sale.

The pre -poll results are in, and you're
dead last.

There's only two of us.

That makes me second.

Don't work your political spin on me.
The Herman leads in all demographics.

Jocks, cool kids, nerds, even students
who would normally vote for Rebecca

Harper. How can the Herman be winning by
that much?

Doesn't anyone else find him annoying?

You call it annoying. The people call it
inspiring razzle -dazzle. I call it

cheap political stunts, and I will not
dip to that level. Well, check it out

first.

Thank you. Thank you. We're too much.
Thank you. Thank you so much. That's

Herman. Nice to meet you. Remember,
politics is the popular vote.

The Herman is going down.

Read it and weep. Pure advice gold.

Heartbroken in Hanover wrote,

First love dumped me for my twin
sister's best friend's little brother's

babysitter. What do I do?

You answered, get over it.

That is not sensitive advice.

No, but it's firmly based in reality,
unlike yours.

How's wear purple eyeshadow going to
help this girl make the soccer team?

It's color karma.

Purple is lucky.

Oh, yeah, that makes total sense.

And I was going to say practice.

At least I didn't answer every question
in three words.

Get over it.

Forget about it. Eat a sandwich.

To be fair, the last one was my advice
to Skinny Pete from Peterborough.

Let's just hand this in to DJ.

Not unless you want DJ to fire us.

Splitting the questions didn't work.

We need to do this my way.

You're not serious.

Handcuffs? To force us to work together?
Did you watch some sort of sitcom

cliche marathon on TV last night?

Yeah, and it worked there.

Well, I guess I should be grateful you
didn't watch the slasher marathon.

I'd like to be the first to extend my
condolences.

What? Well, you ran a good campaign, but
the people have spoken.

Their hands have been shaken. The polls
are in. The balloons have dropped.

The people haven't even voted yet.

Avoiding a crushing loss by withdrawing
from the election was a solid political

move. Would you, uh, like to be my date
to the victory party?

No.

And I haven't quit yet, and you haven't
won.

Come on, Herman.

issues, policies, and more things that
matter. None of it mattered. It's like

your campaign slogan says, politics is
the popular vote.

Campaign slogan writer.

But I'm your slogan writer.

You're fired!

Super Hacker Wilder cannot be banned
from Buzz's feedback forum.

Tab, backslash, A with a circle around
it. Booty line, enter.

Now we're in.

You're busted.

Open me up. I'm scared.

Open the laptop, Wilder.

Are you future DJ?

No, I'm present DJ.

on my webcam. Remember? The one that you
installed?

Curse me and my own tech savvy.

You entered a wilder free zone.

Sorry, DJ, but I need to email Smarty
Sam.

You need to write your article.

If you try to enter Team Buzz's feedback
form again, I will suspend you. Oh,

you're spending some wires like a movie
set ninja?

Oh, you mean the city or death, say
nothing, and daydream about the ultimate

sandwich. Yes.

Fine, DJ.

Ouch! Sorry, DJ.

We have to read you all the questions
you gave Liam advice to.

Excuse me while I reach way over here.

That joke got old the first billionth
time you did it.

Come on, Amanda, do the wave.

Why are you torturing me?

What did you expect?

You handcuffed yourself to a real -life
prankster. I expected you to get tired

of it and do what I want you to do. As
if I'd ever get tired of this.

Stop it! School president's candidate
speech is starting in five minutes. Be

there. Time out.

But after the speeches, we're doing the
chicken dance.

You know, if you can play this game.

Come on, Amanda.

We have to make funny faces at Rebecca
while she says her speech.

Not until we finish writing this
article.

books and comfy chairs.

Boring! That stuff doesn't win
elections.

We're going for the comfy empty promises
instead.

And I have more team buzz perks to give
you, the students, if I'm elected Ernie

C. High president. Remember, fun
freebies and more fun free stuff.

Vote Rebecca!

Thank you, Rebecca,

for that very enthusiastic speech.

have Cody Herman.

It's time for change.

It's time for real leadership.

It's time for new ideas.

And I have 5 ,000 words worth.

Those are my ideas.

Did Cody get those pamphlets out of the
recycling bin?

No, his lackey did. Cody asked if they
could use them.

you said yes?

Vote Cody Herman, because I care about
our school.

You're going to give away my idea?

You weren't using them anymore. Besides,
those pamphlets don't win you any

votes, so they won't win Cody any votes.
In fact, he'll lose votes.

Say we just sit back and watch Cody
sabotage his own campaign.

The Herman knows what this school needs.

Longer library hours before exam.

Healthier lunches in the cafeteria.

Less abrasive toilet paper in the
bathroom.

Those are good.

Thinking back, I probably should have
read the pamphlet before giving it to

opponent.

I just got beat by my own ideas.

We're not beat. Belly Talent totally
trumps toilet paper.

Who wants Belly Talent t -shirts with
genuine Belly Talent sweats?

Red Rover, Red Rover, I call Wilder
over.

Dude,

that's so cheating.

Wilder, we're not playing Red Rover.
We're trying to write our advice column.

Oh, yeah, advice. I need your help.

I wrote my problem down here.

Dear Team Buzz, I can't write my column
unless I settle the score with Smarty

Sam, but I'm banned from the feedback
form. What do I do?

Signed, Bewildered in Wilderville.

Dear Bewildered, give it up.

If you care about a loser's opinion, you
become a loser.

It's good.

Darling Bewildered. Get someone else to
contact Smarty Sam.

Someone like me. I'll have him groveling
in 50 words or less.

Dude, both of your advice is sick.

The only way to choose is the flip. Got
a coin?

Heads, I take Amanda's advice.

Tails, Noah's.

Teen buzz readers have coins.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

They're poor?

No. Let them flip to choose between our
advice.

Like a he said, she said column?
Exactly.

But what about me and Smarty Sam?

Make them stop.

How's that?

Dear Smarty Sam.

Okay.

Ta -da. I'm finished and ready to be
picked off the wild article tree.

Pick like fruit. Get it?

but frown doesn't look like you get it.

I'm frowning because you wrote back to
Smarty Sam.

Technically, I didn't do the typing. It
doesn't matter, Wilder.

Huh.

I'll go pack my things.

Oh, but I'll leave my glow -in -the
-dark mouse pad just for you.

Actually, I have better punishment than
suspending you, making you read Smarty

Sam's reply.

Dear Wilder, your column makes knitting
weekly seem extreme.

I've gotten better video game tips from
a cereal box.

Game On is so wussy, my grandma reads it
to put herself to sleep.

Now that is extreme feedback.

Extremely bad.

Exactly.

Oh, I'm so tired of saying this. I don't
understand, Wilder.

It's simple. The ultimate insult for an
extreme dude is okay.

Okay is Blastra.

This feedback is so extremely bad, it's
wicked.

Finally, something my mom can put on her
fridge.

How I won the election.

That's what my headline wouldn't have
been if I hadn't lost.

My latest polls I drew up by one.

Someone reneged when I found out who it
was.

Michael, it was me.

Rebecca, why?

Cody had the best ideas.

And under all that razzle -dazzle, he
actually cared and didn't abandon the

issues like I did.

He could have had it all.

Recognition, respect, the key to the
vending machine.

There's always homecoming king and
queen.

Perfect.

I already have my crown.

Of course you do.

How did you think you'd have it here?

Here's our column, DJ.

Advice times two.

An Amanda and Noah answer to each
question.

I love it. Yes.

Sometimes it's best not to ask.

So, do you want to make this a regular
column or a special feature?

Can't decide.

Let's flip.