All language subtitles for The Jeffersons s09e11 Poetic Justice

Well, we're moving on up, moving on up,
too deep down, moving on up, to a

deep...

Tuesday. See you later. I have a little
present for you. It's to celebrate

a very special time in our lives.

What time?

Well, I'll give you a hint.

It was a warm summer night.

The lights were low.

The moon was bright and you were young.

Oh, yeah, I remember that.

Today is the anniversary of our first
date.

Oh, well, give me my present.

Let me see here.

A book.

A book of poems, huh?

A book of dumb poems.

One snowy day in deep December, I'll see
a bright spring flower just by sitting

to remember how you looked this hour.
This is sick that we... Who wrote this

joke?

You did, George.

Not bad.

What'd you find out?

Well, a few weeks ago, I was looking
through some old things, and I ran

these poems tucked in with your love
letters.

Oh. And I couldn't believe how beautiful
they were.

Well, consider the source.

That's why I couldn't believe it.

Anyhow, I decided to have them printed
up.

I thought it would make a perfect gift.

Yeah, but I didn't get a gift for you.

Oh, you've given me enough.

Oh, good. Let's eat.

Wait, George.

I want to read something to you. Oh,
please.

Okay, read.

I want to take your hand in mine and
make our footsteps intertwine.

And it was because of this poem.

I let you hold my hand for the first
time.

And it was because of this poem on page
8 that I let you kiss me for the first

time.

What do you mean you let me? You begged
me.

And it was because of this poem on page
13 that I almost let you...

Never mind.

all the bigger that time.

At least that was all a long time ago.
It's all so personal. It's embarrassing.

Oh, why should it be embarrassing about
these poems?

They were written during a period of
love, passion, ecstasy.

I know, but we passed all that now.

Didn't you mean all those things?

Yeah, everything that led up to page 13.

I will always treasure it, and now I'm
going to put it someplace where I won't

lose it.

Oh, George!

Why are you so ashamed of these poems?

They reveal what a sweet, caring,
vulnerable man you are.

Yeah, I know. It's okay for me and you
to look at, but I don't want anybody

to see it.

I hope this is the only book.

Well, almost.

Well, you see, in order to get it
printed, I had to order a minimum of 12.

There are 11 other copies.

Well, I'll kill myself.

After I change my will and leave you
penniless.

Don't worry, George. I'm sure nobody
else will read them.

There you are.

Who'd believe there was such a great big
heart in that itty -bitty body?

Where you wrote such beautiful poetry?

Penniless, Weas.

Oh, come on, George.

I didn't think it would hurt to let
Florence take a peek.

After all, she's almost a member of the
family.

Yeah, she looks like your grandmother.

Oh, it won't work, Mr. Jefferson. I know
now that beneath all those insults

stands a man with true sensitivity.

You see what you've done, Weas? Florence
likes me.

blushing.

Ain't that cute?

You know, Miss Jefferson, I always
wondered what made a wonderful woman

marry a man like that.

Now I know.

Just one question.

What in the world made you stay with
him?

Look, you better not show that book to
nobody.

Oh, George, don't worry. Florence knows
about the poems. You know about them,

and I know about them, and that's it.
Good. Let's keep it that way.

Loved your poems, Mr. Jefferson.

Don't tell me you read them, too. Oh,
no, sir. I had the book, but I was

unfortunate enough to be without my
reading glasses at the time. Oh, thank

So I got Mrs.

Goldman from 8C to read them aloud for
me in the laundry room.

Please. I didn't give it to him. Who
did? I don't...

Now, George, don't get so excited.

It was only Ralph and Mrs. Goldman, and
I'm sure they can be trusted not to tell

anyone else. Right, Ralph? Right, ma
'am. Absolutely.

It's Mrs. Siegel I'd be concerned about.

Who's she?

She was the one passing out the tissues
to the 47 other weeping women in the

laundry room.

Most of them were too moved to fold.

I want my book back, and I want it now.

Why, I'd be happy to return your book to
you, sir, but it's at home with my

collection of great works of the Western
world. Let me see. I think it's either

next to Voltaire or T .S. Eliot.

Hi, George. Hi, Louise.

Oh, Ralph, thanks for that book of
poetry.

Or I loaned it to Mr.

Willis. Get out, Ralph.

I, uh...

Suppose this is an inopportune moment to
ask for a gratuity.

Gratuity for what? For humiliating me?
For ruining me? For making my whole life

miserable? Whatever you can spare, sir.

Tell me you didn't read the book.

I wept, Jordan.

Oh, did you weep?

I wept, too. Oh, of course you did.

They were beautiful.

Inspirational. I couldn't believe it.

Ah, the soul of the man.

I would say the size of the man.

But after reading your poems, I can't.

Willis, give me my book back.

Why, George, you're blushing. I want my
book, Willis. Oh, you're cute when

you're angry.

And you're fat all the time. Now give me
the book.

Well, it's not quite as simple as that.
You see, I was having this meeting with

a publisher friend of mine. Willis, the
book. His name is Graham Gregory, and

he's very prominent in the publishing
industry. Just give me the book.

Well, I left the book open on my desk,
and I went out to get another donut.

And, uh, well, he probably saw it and,
uh, picked it up.

You mean you don't have the book? Well,
that's what I'm trying to tell you. I

took the book with him.

George, you seem a little miffed. Oh,
yeah, well, how would you like it if I

told everybody all the personal things
you say to Helen?

Helen, I ate too much. Helen, I ate too
fast. Give me an ultrasound.

No, better yet, give me a drumstick.

George, I... I can't believe you are
carrying on like this. Okay, okay,

I'll calm down.

I just want to tell you one thing.

What? Not only am I going to leave you
penniless, but I also want you to pay me

back for everything I ever bought you.

Hi, George, guess what? I know, I know.
You read my poems, you loved them, and

you think I'm a sensitive genius.

Well, no.

I haven't read any of your poems.

And I'm sure I'd hate them if I had.

And I think you're an insensitive bull.

Oh,

but I do have a message for you. A
publishing friend of Tom's, a Mr.

called. Here's his number. He wants you
to call him as soon as you can. For

what? All he said was that he wants to
talk with you about your work. His work?

Hey.

That could be very exciting.

You know, I told him you weren't a
professional poet, that you were a dry

cleaner. But he still seemed interested.

Call him, George. Are you kidding?

It's sickening enough I got everybody in
the building calling me a genius.

Well, it is an improvement over what
they usually call genius.

Hey, you could be missing an
opportunity.

You know, the last poet he published is
on the bestseller list. Who cares?

He's made a lot of money. Who cares?

He's on Johnny Carson almost every other
week. Give me the number.

Wait a minute. I thought you didn't want
anybody to see your poems. Johnny

Carson ain't just anybody. I'm talking
about everyday morons laying eyes on

them. Now, hold it.

Now, George, I never intended for those
poems to go public. They're personal.

Weezy, it's just about you and me and
our love life. What's so personal about

that? Hello?

Yeah, George Jefferson here. Uh, yeah.
Uh, Willis said you like my work.

Yeah. Oh, yeah. I am one of the great
ones.

Say, why don't we get together tonight
at my place?

The same building Tom Willis lives in.
Right.

Apartment 12D.

Okay. See you soon. Oh, by the way, ciao
for now.

That's the last poem he gets for free.

He's coming over tonight?

That's right. He wants to publish my
poems.

But you don't have enough poems for a
real book.

I got all afternoon. I could knock out a
whole volume of classics and still have

time to watch the Flintstones tonight.

Are you sure you know what you're doing?
Trust me, Will. Look, oh, remember one

thing. You made me what I am.

I love you.

Oh, let me see what you write. No.

You're not going to hear these poems
until Mr. Gregory gets here. A true

never reveals incomplete works. Oh, come
on. God revealed you.

Okay, you can read this one.

Well, what do you think?

They say a picture is worth a thousand
words.

So picture this.

This stuff ain't the same as the other
stuff you wrote. I know. See, that was

mushy period.

I've decided to go contemporary.

Well, you better hope that guy decides
to go deaf.

What do you know? You ain't got no
taste. You don't even know how to dress.

Anyway, look.

I want you to give an introduction for
me tonight.

I got an introduction for you, all
right.

Mr. Jefferson, this is Bellevue.

Bellevue, this is Mr. Jefferson.

You're wrong already. The man's name is
Gregory.

Anyway, I wrote my own introduction. I
just want you to present it.

In that case, I have a little poem for
you, too.

No way, Jose.

I gave you 50 bucks.

It says there I have to call you a
genius. That's worth at least 100.

Okay.

I'll make it brilliant for 75.

I'll pay you 20 and call you goofy.

I mean, you can't do me one little
favor?

Oh, okay, okay. I've been working here a
long time, and you have been nice to me

along the way.

So because of my warm, generous
Christian heart, I'll do it. Thank you.

150? Okay, but you better make him
believe it.

If he believes this, you better give him
the 150.

Imagine our own George Jefferson, a
poet.

Can you tell us anything about his new
work?

Well, he wouldn't show them to me. He'd
want them to be fresh when he reads them

to Mr. Gregory tonight.

But Florence did read one.

Oh, what'd she say?

Ah, refreshments. I'm sorry, but these
are not for eating.

Well, what are they for, then?

Throwing.

You mean the poems are that bad?

Let me put it this way. I spent my own
money for this route.

Where's George anyway?

Oh, he said he won't come out until Mr.
Gregory gets here.

Oh,

I'll get it.

Yes,

Graham Gregory. To see George Jefferson,
please.

Graham Gregory.

To see Mr. Jefferson. Oh, thanks, Rob.

Mr. Gregory, how nice to meet you. I'm
Louise Jefferson.

George will be right out. Well, thank
you. I am looking forward to meeting

husband. Fruit?

Uh, maybe later. I'm sure.

Uh,

Mr. Gregory, you know Tom Willis. Tom?

Hi, Graham. Good to see you again. And
this is my wife, Helen. This is Willis.

How do you do?

Oh, George, really appreciate your
coming over here on such short notice.

Well, the fact is that he's doing me the
favor.

You must be a lonely man.

Well, why don't we all sit down?

Oh, yes.

Mr.

Gregory, Tom tells us that you're quite
a successful publisher.

Well, let's just say that I have good
instincts. Not only have I discovered a

lot of talented writers, but I also
predicted that leg warmers would be the

in 1982.

George's poems.

Poems? Oh, yeah, yeah. He's obviously an
extremely thoughtful and sensitive man.

Flora, get your budding deer.

Well,

I guess that's my cue.

Ladies and gentlemen, Webster defines
greatness as eminent...

Renowned, distinguished.

But he left out two other words. George
Jefferson.

I think Webster left out two other
words.

Bo -bo.

So, without further ado, let me
introduce your friend, not mine.

like we do every night, you play while I
read my poems.

Oh, those.

Gosh, George, give someone else a
chance.

What? Not on your life.

Helen? Not on a bet.

Willis? Gladly.

Oh, don't worry, Helen. I know how to
play these things. Why, I accompanied

Bam Mahoney when she did her specialty
act at our frat house.

She had those tassels going in every
direction.

She actually hit me in the eye with one.

Now,

you know, there's poetry everywhere.

Not now.

As I was saying, there is poetry
everywhere.

In the subway, the trash chutes, in...

Only we just observe.

Thus.

Ode to esteem, press.

were a mess.

Their fabric called out, where or where
the hell is the steam press?

I think we're ready for this.

Well, how about that, everybody?

Mrs.

Willis, you've been here before and you
came back?

My husband had fun here.

Don't take this as criticism, but you
know what I miss?

That heartfelt emotion that we all saw
in your first poems.

Heartfelt emotion you what?

Heartfelt emotion you got.

Oh, boy. When I wrote this one, I was
wracked with pain.

It was a dark, dark day.

The only way I could get the anguish out
of my system was to put it down on

paper.

It's called Ode to the Cancellation.

Of Hawaii Five -0.

George, please. No, wheeze. I've got to
get it out.

Ready?

Lord, oh, Lord.

What's happened to Jack?

Of course, your price.

I was hoping you'd quote me one.

You mean I could write my own ticket for
my poems?

Poems? No, I was wondering how much
you'd charge to clean 25 Little League

baseball uniforms.

$5 .75 plus tax, $5 off of the coupon.
Why do you want to know that?

Well, Tom told me you're an excellent
dry cleaner, and you see, I manage a

Little League team, and a lot of our
sponsors donate services, so I was

you might donate yours.

Oh, yeah, sure. Anything, anything you
want. Okay, now, back to my poems.

How soon do you want to publish them?

Publish them?

Yeah, you're a publisher, right? Yes.

Well, Willard said you like my work.
Your work.

Oh.

Oh.

I see what this is all about. I mean...
Oh, Mr. Jefferson, I'm sorry.

You see, I came here looking for a dry
cleaner to sponsor my team, and you

thought I was interested in your poetry.

Oh, no, I mean, I read your little book,
and I think they're very nice.

They're sincere, and they're from the
heart, but I just don't think they'd

any mass appeal.

Well, Willis liked them.

He's a mess.

Lawrence, bring me that fruit bowl.

about the mix -up, but I really do have
to be going.

Thank you very much, Mr. Jefferson.

I'll send the uniforms off to you
tomorrow, and listen, I really am very

Oh, no, no, that's okay, Steve.

Poetry is just my hobby. I mean, dry
cleaning is my life.

Well, on the bright side, not every man
has a sensitive soul, but everybody gets

dirty.

Come on, Helen. Let's walk Graham out.

Good night, Louise, Florence.

Tom, you really like those poems we just
heard?

Well, I don't know about the poetry, but
I knew that if I played the bongos,

they'd give me fruit.

What does he know? He's only one
publisher.

I noticed a lot of publishers in this
town would die for these poems. Right,

Florence? If they read them, they'd
probably die laughing.

Are these poems really that lousy,
Willis?

Now, George, lousy is a pretty harsh
word.

But, yes.

I don't understand it. I thought
everybody said they were so great.

George, they were.

But there was something different about
tonight.

Well, maybe you were a little rushed.

Maybe you weren't in the mood.

Or maybe you were distracted by the
bongos.

The bongos? You see.

No, come on.

We both know what the difference was. I
mean, let's face it. These poems were

all about dumb things.

Well, except for Hawaii Five -0.

Now, see, my other poems, they were
about something that really matters to

What? You?

Oh, George, that's more beautiful to me
than all the poetry in the world.

Really?

Really.

George, why don't you read?

A little something out of your first
volume to me.

Okay. Which one do you want to hear?

Oh, how about something from page 13?

Page 13? You got it.

Oh, wait a minute. Let me get the book.