All language subtitles for Daria - S05E01 - Fizz Ed

Okay, students,

here is your reading assignment
for tonight,

Scenes one through five
in Doctor Faustus.

Sorry I don't have actual copies
of the play for you

but, you know... the budget.

Hey, Mr. O.,
I can't read this.

I can't read mine, either.

Hmm, I can just make out
the words "incipient migraine."

I apologize for the quality
of these, class.

The school's photocopier
is so very old.

Darn budget.

Mr. O'Neill.

Sorry.

So it's clear
that in the case of Chechnya,

conflicts that took generations
to develop

will certainly not be resolved
in a period of months.

Excellent report, Jodie.

Would you like to give your
classmates a clearer picture

of the hostilities by pointing
out Chechnya on the map?

Um, Chechnya
became independent in 1991,

and this map
was printed before then.

It's completely outdated.

That's right, Jodie.

I guess they think
since I teach history,

I don't need any supplies
created after ve-day.

Class, I thought
as an exercise in imagination,

we could deprive ourselves

of one of our
customary creative tools.

So today let's all try
to paint a picture

without using the color red.

But I like red.

It reflects
my passionate nature.

I'm sure it does, Brittany,
but, well,

I ran out of it yesterday,

and there's no money
to get any more.

So you see, Ms. Li,
the other teachers and I thought

if we could maybe take
some of the money

we've been spending
on school security

and instead spend it
on school supplies--

Mr. O'Neill,
do you have any idea

what a satellite transmission
jammer costs these days?

Um...

Mr. White.
Yeah?

Why aren't you
out there practicing

with the other gridironers?

Um, the face mask
fell off my helmet.

So get a new helmet.

I can't.
Coach says we're out of money.

That's it.

The school financial predicament
has reached crisis proportions.

So what
we're really talking about

is a lens of fiscal focus
concentrating the diffused light

of our students'
discretionary spending

into a laser beam
of economic clout.

Mr. Lamm,
I like the way that sounds.

How many soda machines
do we have in this institution?

Two in the cafeteria
and one in the teachers' lounge.

Three?

No, we need at least
four times that number.

But can we really make up
the budget deficit

with the proceeds
on cans of soda?

Oh, it's not the cans.

It's the exclusive contract.

What contract?

See, what I do
is represent your interests

to the soda companies.

I say to each of them,

"I've got a high school
that's willing to sell

"no other beverages but yours
in its cafeterias,

"at its dances, sporting events,
whatever.

They'll advertise and sell
your product exclusively."

Advertise?

Tasteful little posters.

"And all you have to do,
Mr. Soda company fat cat,

"is hand over, oh,
let's say $50,000

to be used
as the school sees fit."

$50,000.

And that's if we don't get
a bidding war going.

Hmm...

You don't think it's unseemly
to have advert--

uh, promotion
inside school corridors?

Ms. Li,
our kids see advertising

when they turn on the TV,
when they log onto the web,

when they drive the highways
and walk through the malls.

Do we really want school
to be a sheltered ivory tower

that fails to prepare them
for life outside its walls?

Hmm, I never thought of it
that way.

Did you say $50,000?

Class,
our planetarium trip

has been canceled
due to lack of funds,

so your assignment tonight

is to locate Orion the hunter
in the sky,

then write an essay on why
you think he needs to carry

a weapon to feel like a man.

Attention, students.

An acute paper shortage
prevents us

from sending home
an announcement

about the school review meeting,

so please remind your parents
that it's the 30th at 6:00.

What'd she say?
The 30th?

Thank you.

Why didn't she come on
before the bell rang

so we could hear her?

Well, considering it was about
a school review meeting,

I'd have to say,
who cares?

Wait a minute.

The 30th is a Sunday.

Who holds school review meetings
on Sunday?

Daria,
the 30th isn't a Sunday.

It's super bowl Sunday.

Be an American, Daria.

Super bowl Sunday?

So Stacy showed me her outfit
for Sunday,

and she had, like,
this solid cream-colored top,

and I said,
"Stacy, it's a super bowl party:

"Guys yelling
and jumping up and down

and banging into stuff and dip,
Stacy, dip,"

so she decided to go
with a print instead.

-
"dip" is short for "dipsaster."

That's wonderful, honey.

Did you know Ms. Li called
a school review meeting

for super bowl Sunday?

Really?
That's odd.

Well,
maybe she's not a football fan.

I think she's trying
to pull something.

If I were you,
I'd make it a point

to go to that meeting
and pay extra-close attention.

Daria,
you know your father and I

have to go
to Eric's super bowl party...

What?

Or I'll look like
I'm not a team player.

I have to spend
another super bowl

with a bunch
of freakin' lawyers

and their freakin' lawyer
highballs and lawyer cigars?

Lousy, stuck-up...

Jake!

I called in some favors
around the office

and found five people
who promised they'd talk to you.

You did?

Excuse me,
but doesn't anybody want to hear

about Stacy's pants?

Hello?

The high school principal
called a public meeting

she doesn't want anyone
to attend.

Daria, if you're so concerned,
why don't you go?

What?

You owe me hugely
for making me miss

the biggest football game
of the year.

You hate football.

Hey, don't try any of your
twisty-turny mind games

on me,
morgendorffer.

So if I may sum up:

Our young people
are our greatest resource.

Therefore,
let us mine that resource

and allow their thirst
for refreshment

to fuel their thirst
for knowledge.

That, ladies and gentlemen,
is empowerment.

Thank you.

Yahoo!

Well, if that's not inspiring,

then I wasn't named
fourth runner-up

for principal of the year
by the tri-county chapter

of the Asian-American women
in education's caucus.

Now I'm sure you all want
to get home and watch the game,

but first,
we've allotted three minutes

for public commentary
on Mr. Lamm's proposal.

Nobody?
Very well, then.

Excuse me.

Um, yes, Ms. Morgendorffer?

You're planning
to make soda companies

bid against each other
for the right

to market their products
in Lawndale High?

That's right.

All you kids have to do
is what you'd do anyway:

Drink soda.

Does that mean
that everywhere I turn,

I'll run into a vending machine?

Well, there wouldn't be
much value to the contract

if the product
weren't easily available.

And what else?

Nothing... but a few small,
discreet advertising posters

in the halls,
nothing in questionable taste,

and if we're lucky,

an exciting,
new high-tech scoreboard

for athletic events,
boys' and girls'.

So the school will, in effect,
be endorsing the soda?

Is that really
the school's role:

To become a shill?

Miss, do you drink soda?

Huh?
Of course.

So...

This isn't about
whether I like soda.

It's about whether
a public high school

should be using its status
as a place of authority

to serve as one more marketing
tentacle of corporate america.

With the taxpayers
subsidizing it.

Surely you give
your friends enough credit

to know when
they're being taught

and when they're being sold to.

I give them enough credit
to figure out

about three seconds
after those machines arrive

that they can't trust
this institution,

the few who still do.

Oh, dear.

Darn it, our time is up.

I've got super bowl fever.

Uh, go, teams, go.

This whole thing sucks.

They shouldn't be
selling stuff to people

under the guise
of educating them.

Don't you think it's totally
unethical and underhanded?

I don't know.

Let me mull it over
for a few minutes.

Is it my imagination,

or is something about the school
different today?

Hey, Daria, Jane.

Isn't it great to have

all these new soda machines
everywhere?

It's so easy to get a drink.

And hyperglycemia.

I like these machines.

They're so bright,
so soothing...

You know,
we're getting a new scoreboard

and a whole bunch of equipment
out of this deal.

And new pom-poms
and everything.

And all you have to do for it

is name your firstborn
after Ultra Cola.

What?

You weren't going to call him
Kevin junior, were you?

Oh, kevie,
I hope you're not disappointed.

Ultra...

Ultra Thompson.

"Now starting
for the Miami dolphins

at quarterback,
ultra... cola... Thompson."

Hooray!

Yeah, it's cool.

Hey.

You've got to do something
about this.

About what?

About that.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, that's kind of sleazy.

Are you going to talk
to someone about it?

I'd have to go to
the superintendent of schools.

So will you?

I don't know.

It's bringing in a lot of money
to the school.

But you just said
you think it's sleazy.

Well, yeah,
but the lawndale model congress

is going to Washington
next month,

and for the first time
in three years,

we don't have to sell 500 rolls
of gift wrap to pay for the bus.

No, instead, they're selling
you colored sugar water

while pretending
to give you an education.

Hey, you drink soda,
don't you?

That's not the point.

I just don't think
a few little posters

are that big a deal.

In a week,
you won't even notice them.

All the worse.

Daria, if you don't like it,
you complain.

I don't complain.

That's all you ever do.

I mean, I don't get involved.

Then I guess you don't
really care that much, do you?

All he wanted just once
was to eat at the table,

but she had a hankering to howl.

Shih tzu?
I hardly know you!

Next on sick, sad world.

Do you think I complain a lot?

What are you bitching
about now?

I'm serious.

I asked Jodie
if she'd talk to somebody

about these soda posters,
and she said I should do it

since I'm so good
at complaining.

Why don't you do it?

Well, let's see,

aside from the fact that i'm
already considered a square peg

and a malcontent,
there's the small problem

that everyone loves
all this money coming in,

and I seem to be
the only one troubled

by where it's coming from.

So what?
You're still right.

Thank you.

And you have every right
to moan and groan...

Thank you.

As long as you try
to do something about it.

Why does it have to be me?

Because nobody else will.

But that's what's
so infuriating.

Ah-ah-ah.
What?

There you go
complaining again.

You owe me hugely
for making me get involved

in school district politics.

What are you talking about?

I just asked you
to walk me here.

You're not even going in.

Hey, don't try any of
your rhetorical gymnastics

on me,
morgendorffer.

You sound a little nervous.

No, I don't.

My mistake.
You can go in now.

Eep!

And that's why I really think
it's inappropriate

to be using the school
as a venue

for this cola company's
advertising.

Ms. Morgendorffer,

I hope you don't mind
that I punched your name up

on the computer
before you came in.

You have a very impressive
academic record...

Um, thanks.

But very little in the way
of extracurriculars.

What does that have to do
with anything?

Well, I can't help wondering,

do you really object that
strongly to a few soda machines,

or is this protest
perhaps an exercise

in extracurricular involvement

to put on
your college applications?

What?

Do you drink soda, Daria?

That's not the point.

Lawndale High is now
the only school in the county

running a surplus.

I was going to talk
to Leonard lamm

about writing a contract
proposal for all our schools.

Mr. Cartwright, you're right.

I'm not a big one
for participation.

I went against my instincts
coming here today,

and when word gets around,

I'll probably be even
more isolated than I already am.

Oh, I don't...

But I did it,
because as little affection

or respect as I have
for my fellow students,

they don't deserve to be treated
as a demographic

by their own school.

All that contract
is trying to do

is make the
educational experience better.

Then just come
to Lawndale High

and see if that's happening.

I'll think about it.

Um, that doesn't sound
very convincing.

I'll think about it.

Thank you for coming in.

Well, it's been four weeks,

and I'd say we've done
a stellar job

of making Ultra Cola available
to our students.

Well, you might say so, and
I'm sure I'd agree with you,

but unfortunately,
that won't hold up in court.

Huh?

The idea wasn't making

the product available
to the students.

It was making the students
available to the product.

The Ultra Cola people say
your sales

aren't what they should be.

You do want to make your quotas,
don't you?

Or the school won't get
that nice big check.

Oh, my gosh.

What do I have to do?

Well,
we need to take it up a notch.

I've got a bad feeling
about this.

Class, there's been
a slight change

in our lesson plan.

Today we'll discuss the planet"
relative distance from the sun.

But we did that
two weeks ago, Ms. B.

And now we're gonna
do it again, Charles,

unless you wish to spend
the period in independent study.

No, not the closet.

Now, the reason for the change
is that I've received

a brand-new learning aid.

"Why, look, students,

"a three-dimensional model
of our solar system

"graciously provided
by Ultra Cola.

- The favorite
beverage in any universe."

"We can use it to discuss
which planets' atmospheres

might support
the process of carbonation."

Or I can just spend
the rest of the day

in the teachers' bathroom
staring at the tiles.

Good Ultra Cola morning,
students.

I am pleased to announce
an Ultra Cola schedule change.

From now on,
the period between classes

will be increased
from five minutes to ten,

allowing you more time to get
to your Ultra Cola lockers,

organize
your Ultra Cola backpacks,

and still enjoy
a delicious Ultra Cola.

-
the refreshing way to learn.

You don't think they're gonna
try to make Mr. Demartino

use Ultra Cola
in his class lessons, do you?

Argh!

Stupid...

Argh!

Stupid cola... argh... friggin'...

Marketing contract...

Auuuugh!

What was the question?

Oh, kevie, it's terrible.

How can I face the world?

It's okay, babe.

You look, uh... cute.

What do you mean?

Kind of,
uh... round and shiny.

Ohhhh.

Uh, I like that in a woman?

Nnuh!

Ow.

I hate this stupid uniform.

You can't build
a human pyramid in this.

Everybody keeps rolling off.

Oh, god, my arms.

I can't feel my arms.

You see,

you're still falling short
of your quotas,

and I don't need to tell you,
those sales have to be made up.

I don't know what to do.

I put in all the machines
they asked for.

I put up all the advertising
they asked for.

I instituted the learning aids.

What more can I do?

What more can I do?

If only the students
had some motivation

to drink soda
beyond simple thirst.

But that's crazy talk.

What other motivation
could there be?

You're right; It's stupid.

By the way,

how are your students' grades
this period?

Huh?

Don't you people like having
that new scoreboard?

Don't you like
the digital tackling dummies

and the new towels
that don't smell like

a farm animal's privates?

Um... sure.

Well, why don't you show
your appreciation?

Do you want us to call
the Asian-American women

in education's caucus again?

No, I want you to drink
more soda, damn it, soda!

Soda!

Soda, soda, soda.

But we drink that bulk-up
powder, Ms. Li...

For the ladies.

Forget bulking up, damn it.

Who on this team
has an average below c?

Never mind.

Just put up your hand
if your average is above c.

Okay, the rest of you,

I'll raise your average
half a point

for every ten cans
of Ultra Cola you drink.

If you've got a 60 average,
drink 20 cans,

and you'll have a 61.

We'll call it
an extra-credit mini-course

in the science of motivation.

What do you say?

Whoo-hoo! Yeah! All right!

All right, men,
give 'em hell,

and drink, my lads, drink.

Yeah! Whoo-hoo!

Ms. Li, are you sure
you want to do this?

Just what are you saying,
Mr. MacKenzie,

it's unethical, immoral,

in direct conflict with my role
as an educator?

Well, yeah, but mostly
I was thinking

I'm the only one on the team
who can count by halves.

Hmph, note to self:

Calculators
for the football team... asap.

Ah, I love the smell
of cola in the morning.

The oakwood taproots
look ready for a whipping,

but our lawndale lions
aren't here to do the clipping.

I see mighty mack,
but where,

oh, where,
could the other lions be?

All right, girls,
just the way we rehearsed it.

- Win, lions, win.

Fight, lions, fight.

Drink Ultra Cola
till your pants feel tight.

Run and pass
and block and blitz.

Drink Ultra Cola
and never mind the zits.

Go lions.

Ugh! Ahhh!

Hold on, folks.

I've got star qb Kevin Thompson
on the phone.

Kevin, tell the loyal fans
what you just told me.

Um, hey everybody.

Uh, how's it going?

Um, I'm real sorry about this,
but, uh,

the lions have to forfeit.

We've all got... tummyaches.

Oh, no, Kevin.

To what do you attribute this,
the dreaded influenza?

No, too much Ultra Cola.

I've got to go to the bathroom.

Drink up, damn it.
Eep.

Leonard lamm says
a forfeited home game

is a violation of our contract
with Ultra Cola.

I'm already in deep horse plops
from missing the sales quotas.

What about all that soda
the team drank?

Yeah, yeah, but he said
since it was from the cafeteria,

it didn't count.

It had to come
from the machines,

but nobody told me.

Nobody told me, I tell you.

Calm down, Ms. Li.

Maybe you should lay off the
Ultra Cola for a little while.

Lay off the Ultra Cola?

Can't lay off the Ultra Cola.

Got to drink, drink cola.

I told you to drink up, damn it.

I know,
call the elementary schools.

They're always looking
for a cheap field trip.

Tell them to get their kids over
here right away

for soda, soda, soda!

Do you think that's really--

just do it.

I can't just sit here.

I've got to move some product,
damn it.

Attention, students,

everyone out in the halls
for soda... now!

Must drink soda,
soda from machines.

Everybody gather around
the pretty machines.

Ooh!

Ooh, ooh, ooh!

Open up, you lousy
damn machine!

Give up the soda in your bowels!

Soda, soda, must have soda, oh!

Arrgh, augh, ooh!

Everybody keep drinking!

So the gigantic soda machines
are gone from the hallways.

But still in the cafeterias.

And the advertising is gone
from the walls.

But still in the school paper.

And the Ultra Cola logo
is gone from the uniforms.

But still on the tickets.

I take it
you don't consider this

an all-out triumph
for the forces of good.

Did they or did they not

release Ms. Li
from the hospital?

Good point,
but come on, Daria,

they changed
the Ultra Cola contract

so they can't advertise
inside the school,

and thanks to Ms. Li's
little freak-out,

no one traced it to you.

Isn't that some kind of victory?

I don't know.

Ask those people.

♪ La-la, la, la-la ♪

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