All language subtitles for The.Paper.2025.S01E08.1080p.WEB.h264-ETHEL

I love getting in super early.

I can go over all the stories
for today's paper,

respond to e-mails.

If I have the time,

one of my favorite things to do

is to come in here
in the morning

-and dig out a 40...
-Ah...

Aah! What the f?

What are you doing? What?

I, um, just got here
a little early, so I figured...

You're in pajamas.

-You're sleeping here?
-Yes.

My building, the plumbing
stopped working two days ago,

and it's really disgusting.

Okay. Did you tell the landlord?

Yes, yes.
It's the whole building.

God, what's that smell?

I'm doing what I can.

It's not a bad smell.

If you want, you can go
to my place and take a shower...

-Uh, while I stay here, I mean.
-I know.

-Wouldn't that be weird?
-No. It's easy-peasy.

There's a really nice shampoo.
Don't use that.

There's some towels
that you should hang up after...

I'll write you out a list.

Yeah. Keys and address,
and I'm there.

-Heh, sure. Yeah.
-Thank you.

-Come here.
-Oh...

-Are you holding your breath?
-No.

It smells good.

Ned's water pressure
is crazy good.

Pushes you around the shower
like a little bully.

There's a giant clog backing up
Mare's entire neighborhood.

It's not just her building.

Ned's super excited
about this story.

He thinks
it's our Flint water crisis.

I agree, it's a legit story.

It's a damn disaster.

My girlfriend's
from this neighborhood,

and she's been living
in my apartment this whole time.

It is true the city is taking
its time fixing the clog.

Residents are stuck
using port a-potties.

There's port a-potties?

Come on, Roxanne.

Oh, my goodness.

Why are there children
and mothers everywhere?

Is Group C boarding
on a Southwest flight?

They're holding commercial
auditions for Kid Mitts

in the conference room.

Man Mitts sales
are already so encouraging,

we have decided
to expand the brand.

Next stop, Kid Mitts,
coming this fall.

Our ad agency has been scouring
Midwest middle schools

looking for a
"Petey, the hasty wiper."

We need a little face with real
star power to launch Kid Mitts,

since Man Mitts
is our most valuable product.

Ned and I have had one or two
rather heated debates

as to how best
to get the word out.

We had one yesterday.

I'm not calling
your ass-wiping glove

the penicillin
of personal hygiene.

Just because it happens
to be owned by the same company

that owns the newspaper.

Yes!
Separation of church and state.

There are occasions when church
and state need to team up.

-Like what, the Inquisition?
-Come on. It writes itself.

In fact, it has written itself.
It's all there.

Ooh!

No, we're not
in the waste basket.

Get out.

My son, Matteo,
is very talented.

Very Chalamet.
From Dune, not Wonka.

I was in the middle
of a math test.

So what?

Addition, subtraction?

Who do you want to be
when you grow up?

A florist?

What do you think
the clog is gonna be?

-Tree roots?
-My guess is restaurant grease.

Travis bet me
it'd be an alligator corpse.

Here she comes.

Why is the sewer blockage
a sheet?

Uh...

What does that look like to you?

What?

Is that... Holy crap.

Man Mitts.
See how the fingers link up?

It's the Hands Across America
of sewer clogs.

And I don't care
if that reference dates me.

-But the Man Mitt is flush able.
-Is it?

The sewer guy said there was
50 yards jammed in the pipes.

He said it looked like
hundreds of Mickey Mouses

had been caught stealing
by the Taliban.

I just swore to Ken
that I'd never write

about the parent company.

Screw it.
My star reporter needs to bathe.

I wonder what Marv would do
if we publish it.

If we publish it?

When we publish it.

You're smiling.

So are you, psycho.

Uh... I think I left my bagel
in the bathroom.

I pick my enemies carefully.

And the name on my paycheck
will not be one of them.

And there goes Nicole,

making her brave stance
on the sidelines.

We need proof of what they know
and when they knew it.

Who can we trust?

Oh, I know who will talk to me.

Kimbo, heh, was her name "-O".

-How you doing?
-Hey.

Can we talk about something?

Girl to girl.

Of course, Mare Bear.

Girl on girl, hot...
Gorgeous braid.

Is it somebody's birthday?

I mean, every Wednesday is
someone's birthday.

When is yours, blondie?

So, um, the Man Mitt.

You guys have been moving a lot
of those bad boys lately, huh?

Yeah.

All right, here's my question.

Have you guys gotten
any complaints

that they're not
actually flush able?

Get off my desk.

"Thanks to Kid Mitts, I have
more time with this mitt."

Holds up a baseball glove.

Where does it say
the character took Xanax?

Amore, I'm thinking
about dinner tonight.

You know, I would love to make
your favorite,

spaghetti al pomodoro
and French fries.

I'll make them for you.

But if you don't learn this,
forget about dinner.

No lines, no dinner, okay?

"And the best thing is,
I'm not itchy down there,

'cause I know
I'm getting everything.

Nicole, Detrick, Adam, Adelola,
can you come see me, please?

Can you blur my face?

I love my Enervate family.

I'm only here
because Ned is making me.

You're my hero, Nicole.

-Oh. Um... Travis.
-Yeah.

I'm sorry, but we are working
on something

that might compromise Softees.

I have to ask you to recuse
yourself from this one.

Damn. Okay.

I understand, sir.

Guess you want
my press badge back.

Oh, that's not necess...
Where'd you get that?

I made it.

Oh. Then I might take it.

-Ned, Ned, Ned.
-No.

-Yes.
-No, no, no.

-Yes, yes, yes.
-Stop.

I have just heard
that one of your reporters

has broken
the church-state barrier

and is reporting on Man Mitts.

I said, "That's impossible."

Because previously you had
a very principled hissy fit

saying you wouldn't do that.

So I want you to shut that down.

This is your first
and only warning.

You don't have
the authority to do that.

Shut it down.
That's your second real warning.

Marv is on vacation,

and I am not permitted
to get hold of him.

I cannot do
what you're asking me to do.

"Ye shall follow the truth
wherever it shall lead."

What's that from?

You used to work in sales,
didn't you, for Softees?

-Mm-hmm.
-I suspected

that maybe
you would bleed purple

behind that, um,
milk fish complexion.

You need to stop this
right now, Ned.

And you can consider that
your final warning.

You needn't think there won't be
more where that came from.

-Ken?
-Yeah.

-Get out of my newsroom.
-Careful.

Let's go.

-Nicely done.
-Felt good.

Thank you very much. All right.

Excuse me. Roll back.

Roll back.

Detrick, you work in sales,
don't you?

Come with me.

We need to empty
the entire Softees warehouse

before this story breaks, and
that is going to be difficult,

as our buyers
have already placed

their orders for the month,

but I'm sure you can handle it.

Accountants,
who are the accountants?

You work for both,

so you have to go back
to neutral Switzerland.

Thank you very much. Barry?

Barry!

-Yeah?
-You have seniority.

You are in charge
of everything newspaper.

Love that.

I guess this leaves the four
of us to break the story.

First order of business,
Charlie's Angels.

Too sexy for prime time?

Have pro and con on my desk
in 15.

-Three of us.
-Mm-hmm.

Cute kid. Congratulations.

You know, I worry about him
having a career.

Because you see what happens
to these child actors?

They start heroin
really early, like...

Sometimes they vomit on you.

Then they prostitute themselves,
yes.

He doesn't look like,
but he will.

Then one day, they just stab you
in the bed, and that's it.

Lot of blood.

-Mom.
-One down.

And each finger
is stitched separately.

Interesting.

You'd think a fiber this
inexpensive would disintegrate,

but it can actually withstand

a 95-mile-per-hour
ground stroke.

-It's pretty insane, right?
-Yeah.

Now, would you say
it's flush able?

What... What makes you ask that?

Hey, are you two
from the newspaper?

Oh. Maybe.

Uh, Patrick, they said they were
big fans of fabric science.

I just wanted to give them
a demonstration.

Damn it, Albert.

You told me to be more trusting.

-Thanks, fellas.
-Thank you.

I never said that.

What's wrong with the...
What paper?

Did they not have clearance?

How was I supposed to know?
Hey, what am I missing?

We are running an insane
promotion on Man Mitts right now

if you want to double
your usual order.

Would I flush these mitts
in my own home?

Um, Ma'am,
that's a complicated question.

My biggest flaw as a salesman?

Uh, not too many, but I will say
I can't sell anything

that I don't believe in.

And I don't believe you need
a wet glove to use the bathroom.

This is a competitive market,
okay?

People say all sorts of things

to discredit
a best-selling wipe.

You know what I heard
about Fem Dabs?

They make you go blind.

Hello?

Damn it!

I aspire to be
the perfect corporate yes-man.

I co-sign every single email
I'm CC'd on.

Doesn't matter what it says.

The important thing is
you get a co-credit

on all the decisions being made.

And I print out
every single email

so there's proof
of my involvement

for when the spoils
are divvied up.

But under Ned's
new media regime,

that paper trail
could absolutely wreck me.

-Hello, Travis.
-Hello, Ken.

I was wondering if I could
enlist your unsavory services

to get rid of some documents.

Well, that depends.

Are you willing to follow me
to a second location

-without question?
-Yes, sir.

And a third, if need be?

I'd rather just start
in a third,

then maybe move on to a fourth.

-So the Brit means business.
-It does.

Let's go, then.
Parking lot, 10 minutes.

-Be there or be square.
-Okay. Yeah.

Yeah,
people tend to just trust me.

It's something about the beard
and soft eyes combination.

People say I look like
a young Kris Kringle.

I've logged you into
my old Softees email account.

They CC'd me
on basically everything,

so there might be something
interesting in there.

You're letting us
go through your emails?

I'd rather set myself on fire
than let you see my emails.

What do I have to hide?

Wait, what's this?

Hey, Dante, what's good?

How many units did you move
last week?

-I don't know, 20?
-Twenty?

I move more units to
trick-or-treaters on Halloween

and I live in a cul-de-sac.

You clearly don't want it, dawg.

Dante clearly doesn't want it.

-You can turn this off.
-What is this?

It's...

They used to make me do
motivational sales videos,

but you should turn it off.

No, can we watch
one minute of it, please?

All right.

I know it's dumb, though, so...

You wanna know how to sell
like me?

Well, bad news.
I can't tell you that.

I can't give you the keys
to this Porsche.

It only starts for me
and my fingerprint ignition.

You know that wasn't cheap.

But here's the thang.

-Thang?
-Each one of you

has your own luxury vehicle

hidden inside you.

You've just got to figure out
what starts your engine.

So let me hear your engines.

Come on!

-Now open them up, fellas.
-Wow, heh.

Vroom! Vroom-vroom-vroom!

All right, fine.
I know it's a little cheesy.

You looked like you,
but like 25 percent more oily.

You looked flammable.

Okay, yeah, all right.
The hair is a little bit...

But the look is an important
part of the show.

You looked like if Draco Malfoy
had a cocaine problem.

Well,
it was a very demanding job,

and I made a lot of money
for the company.

So maybe we just go back
to the emails.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I hurt your feelings.

No, no, not at all. I like it.

I like being ribbed. You look
like Macaulay Culkin now.

You look like an asshole.

It's important we can
all make fun of each other.

I think it's a really
fun thing to do,

but that's not
who I am anymore, okay?

Maybe we can just move on
with our lives,

Totally.

You look like
if bottle service was a person.

Sorry, I haven't been able
to get mine in.

"I don't have all day
to make sure I got it all.

Thanks to Kid Mitts,
I have more time to be a kid."

Maybe now try that last line

with a little more enthusiasm.
Yeah?

Thanks to Kid Mitts,
I have more time to be a kid.

-Okay, that was great.
-No, no, no. Sorry, sorry.

Do my rewrite.

You know, I'm a journalist.
I like writing.

So yes, do it. Do it.

-"I was born filthy in sin..."
-Not that one. The second one.

"It's baseball season,

"and the only stains
my single mom

should be getting out
of my pants are grass stains."

-No, okay...
-Are you okay?

Give me the sides.
Amore, just a second.

Do you think we can play
with this a bit?

For the kid, you know,
he's a bit tense.

Okay, great.
So, I am the young man, okay?

"Hey, sweetheart!
How was soccer today?"

There is a lightning storm!

Oh, my God!

I just switched bodies
with my mom!

She has my body now,
and I am the beautiful woman!

Wow!

Oh, this is how it feels
to have clean underwear?

I'm going to spend her money

to buy the wipes I need
to clean myself.

Ha! I mean,
this is just one direction.

There are many
other possibilities.

-Millions. Millions.
-Wow.

Did I say half-off?
I meant it's double half-off.

Would you pick...

No, no, no. Wait.

That will be just fine, captain.

We gotta go about
a half a click further.

We're not going further.
I'm pulling rank.

This is perfect.

Hello, moorhens.

Those are moorhen ducks.
How'd you know that?

-Oh, I know my ducks.
-Nice.

-Another?
-Yeah.

-Goodbye.
-Wait.

-Did you hear that?
-No.

I don't think we're alone.

I think someone's watching us.

Who else is here, Travis?

Where the hell
have you brought us?

Ow! SOFTEES WORKER: Rat on that,

tattletales.

Hey, we're neutral.
Leave us alone.

Hey, Millennials,
it's not toilet papering

if you're tossing rolls of paper
at someone's head.

There's an art to it.

Detrick!

My family budget thanks you.
A little more bullying?

Maybe some tissue boxes
or diapers or something?

Aw.

Knock it off.

Bloody hell.

Well, well, well.
Here they all are.

I would love to know
what you're all doing here.

Ken, we don't have time
for this.

Because I know
that you wouldn't continue

to write a defamatory piece
about Man Mitts

once I had specifically
forbidden you not to.

Our warehouse
is still half-full.

I can't afford
your precious conscience.

So, by the powers vested in me
by Marv not being here,

I declare this article canceled.

The state has shut down
the churches.

Then the church...

condemns you to hell.

Ineffective.

The church is out of business.

Dude.

Do you?

Yeah. I mean it.

You shut this article down
and I resign.

Well, that would be delightful.

But have you got the nuts
for it?

-Oh, I have the nuts.
-Do you?

You want to see my nuts?
I'll show everyone my nuts.

Ahem, excuse me, everyone.
Can I have everyone's attention?

Anyone who works for
The Truth Telleror has ever?

You're being
a bit of a hothead now.

Am I a hothead or an oily head?
Make up your mind.

Oh, my God. Is that why
you're actually mad?

Take a seat.
Excuse me, everyone.

I have something, ahem,
very noble to say.

Do I have your attention?

Good. Okay.

I have to do something
very important right now

and very, very difficult.

We didn't ask to write a story

about the flush ability
of Softees' Man Mitts.

That story came to us,
and it demanded to be told.

So now I must do that
which every newsman dreads.

I must sacrifice myself
for the good of the paper

and the community...

by resigning as editor-in-chief
of the Toledo Truth Teller.

If you must shed tears,
do not shed them on my account.

Shed them for justice,

because justice
has not been served today.

As my final act before
this historic resignation,

I hereby appoint Mare Pritti

as acting editor
of my beloved Truth Teller.

Okay.

Heavy lies the crown.

-Okay, Ned?
-Yeah?

Let me know where you want me
to send your last paycheck.

Excuse me, miss casting person.

Oh, God.

When we read the sides,
we couldn't believe it.

Matteo, he run into my bath,
crying.

"Mama, Mama! They wrote
my story! This is me!"

Your mom
sure is something, huh?

Yeah.

Hey, did you ever hear
of gray rocking?

-No.
-It's what I use on my mom.

My mom's a pretty toxic
narcissist. She loves drama.

So whenever she got
into one of her moods,

I'd make myself
as uninteresting as possible,

like a little gray rock.

Gray rocking, huh?

Thank you.

Maybe I shouldn't
have gotten involved,

but I just wanted to give
the kid a fighting chance.

Oh, and the little
I'm-like-you routine?

Don't believe it?
My mother was a saint.

That old man's a narcissist

if he thinks I'm gonna listen
to him over my own mom.

That guy doesn't buy my Wendy's.

Try our new Greek bowl.

There's always a bowl,
isn't there, in America?

Everything's bowls
with you guys...

Oh, hello.

-Can we talk?
-Of course we can.

Your prints are all over
the Man Mitts prototype.

-Hmm. Hmm.
-"I champion this. Ken Davies."

"The innovation we need.
Ken Davies."

Mm-hmm.

"Love it! More! Yum, yum.

-Ken Davies."
-Ken Davies.

I've been blackmailed
by enough women over the years

to know when they're in it
for the thrill

and when they actually
want something. On with it.

I want you to let us publish
this so Ned can un-resign

without looking like a wuss.

Listen here, darling.

If Marv comes back
and there's a warehouse

full of unsellable
toilet mitts...

-I know.
-The Truth Tellerwould be

the least of his concerns.

We're in the same doomed boat,
honey.

Hmm...

I'll let you in
on a little secret.

Yeah?

I happen to know someone

for whom nothing is unsellable.

-The paper needs you.
-We need the sales, Ned.

The paper needs me.

You're the only one
who can save us.

I wish I was man enough
to do it myself.

But I'm not.

I'm sorry.

I just... I think
it's the only way.

Come on.
Go rev up that engine, Sampson.

-I would say don't look at me.
-Ah.

-They always end up looking.
-Hmm.

All right.

Whoo! Come on, guys.
We got some mitts to sell.

All eyes on me.

These are no longer
wipes for poop

that we flush down the toilet.

These are kitchen wipes
that you throw in the trash.

All right?
All-purpose, all-surface,

sturdy, ergonomic kitchen wipes.

You got it? You got it?

-Yes.
-Yes. Okay.

Stick and sell, people.
Stick and sell.

Loving this, Ned.

Yes, could I speak
to Jeff Arrington, please?

Thank you very much.

Hey, Jeff,
my name's Ned Sampson.

I'm here with Softees Corporate.

I'm sure you have heard of us.
I've definitely heard of you.

I work out in your gyms
five days a week.

Jeff, you've changed my life,
so I'm about to change yours.

Does that sound good?
That sounds great.

I could gab all night,
but nothing I say will compare

with slipping one of these
miracle mitts on your own mitt

and going to town
on a soiled surface.

Better yet, I can offer you
a 30 percent discount

if you take it gross right now.

Okay,
and when did you first notice

the sewage smell
in your kitchen?

Just the sound
of a grain silo, Nicki,

brings me back to my summer job.

Just the sound
of a nail salon, Lee,

it brings me back
to my summer job.

You're an ultimate frisbee guy?

I'm an ultimate frisbee guy!

You're a cutter? I'm a handler!

Sick!

Whoo!

Whoo-hoo!

Okay, and who's responsible
for maintaining the trunk line?

-Interesting.
-It's a chopstick wipe, Mae.

It's a chopstick wipe.
That's what it was made for.

Uh!

All right.
You can get back next month.

Did you say your home became
a literal hell or a living hell?

I just want to hear
those two words, "I'm in."

Say it. Say it. Say it.

Beautiful!

Whoo-hoo! Yeah!

Everybody dance,
everybody dance.

Everybody, everybody,
everybody dance.

Everybody,
everybody, everybody dance.

How did we get here?

Thank you very much, sir.

It's a pleasure
doing business with you.

Boom! That's the one!

That's the one, baby!

Sometimes,
the best way to serve the paper

is by publishing
an important story.

Sometimes, it's by quitting.

And sometimes,
it is by selling a boatload

of rebranded kitchen wipes.

Today, it was all three.

Like father, like son.

Kid Mitts get the job done.

Used mitts go in the trash,
not the toilet.

The kid is okay.

But his mother?

Embarrassing.
I mean, what's wrong with her?

She has a stiff neck?

Excuse me, can I get
your footage for my acting reel?