Original subtitles

Dude, we have a test. You have to focus.

I have no motivation to succeed.

You don't understand how hard it is to study

when you know you're sitting on a huge trust fund.

Dude, I'm so sorry, man-- I didn't realize.

What do you guys think?

"Charge"! Scary, huh?

Scary that some of this might be passed down to me.

War reenacting is a celebration of our nation's history,

and despite what your mother says,

that cannot be learned

by watching Kevin Costner movies.

I don't get why you care so much about history.

It's just a bunch of boring facts and dates.

Boring facts--

Why are you being so mean?!

History is the story of living, breathing people

who helped shape our world.

Oh, yeah?

If they're so great,

then why are they dead?

Guess who is killing it as the Spring Gala Chairperson.

♪ Is it my laaaady, Kaaaaatie? ♪

What are you doing?

I'm not sure.

I'm starting to rack up awesome stuff

for the charity auction--

a $100 gas card,

10 free games of mini-golf,

and a signed head shot of Scott Bakula

that I stole from the dry cleaner.

Oh, I'm laughing 'cause you said those things are awesome,

and they so aren't. I'm beginning to understand

why your parents travel so much.

Mom, Cooper's right.

Gas cards aren't gonna cut it.

To raise big money, you need big-ticket auction items.

Last year, Nancy Granville's family donated

a week at her Sun Valley house.

Brought in $20,000.

That's like 10 allowances.

Cooper, you spilled your milk.

Sorry about that.

Are you going to just leave it?

Well, what else would I do?

What happens at your house when you spill something?

And now what happens?

Well, Lupe or Dolores or Lita or Patricia

will come in and clean it up.

It is... Tuesday,

so it would be Lupe, Dolores, Lita, Patricia, or the driver.

I don't know his name.

We just call him Bentley because, you know--

Shut this up! Clean this up!

See? This kind of behavior

is exactly why I don't want to be a part of Westport culture.

These people have no sense of reality.

Mom, if you don't raise enough cash,

it'll bring shame to our family.

It'll be Dad's goatee all over again.

Oliver, you have to accept that your mother and I

don't subscribe to the shallow values of this town.

As for the goatee...

"Reality Bites" pushed a lot of good people

in a lot of bad directions.

Okay, shame doesn't work with you people.

Let's try facts.

If you don't raise enough money,

it'll force the school to cut back on things

like the Special Ed department.

Hmm. That wouldn't be good.

But on the bright side, she is getting better.

Yesterday she was scrubbing up to her shoulders.

Hup, there she goes.

Fine. I'll sweet talk the rich idiots.

But for the record, I hate it.

Agreed. People should donate

because it's the right thing to do,

not because they get some vacation in return.

This is the kind of nonsense I was telling you about.

Taylor, I just talked to your history teacher.

In an effort to foster your love for history,

I'm taking you out of class and bringing you to the reenactment.

What if I didn't go to the reenactment,

and you just took me out and dropped me off at the mall?

No reenactment, no dice.

You're lucky I hate school.

Question-- In this battle,

how many died and how bloody was it?

Well, it was a massacre, so almost everyone

and very bloody.

I want in.

Come on!

Nancy!

Hi. Katie Otto.

I'm chair of the Spring Gala this year.

Ohh. Well, I hope you fair better

than last year's chairperson, Stacy Clouser.

Do you know the pressure of planning that Gala

caused her to have a nervous breakdown?

I want to thank you

for attending this very important

Spring Gala strategy meeting.

After some brief remarks,

I will open the room to questions.

Bup! After my remarks, Mr. Bobbins.

I'm pretty sure that has all been exaggerated.

Are you? 'Cause I was there

when the paramedics had to hold her down

and administer a sedative.

But you know what,

you tell yourself whatever you need to hear.

I'm just gonna come out with it. Mm.

Would you be willing to donate your Sun Valley ski house

to this year's Gala auction?

Oh, is that your whole pitch?

Um...

How about I throw in an almost-full punch card

to Gary's Beef Bowl?

No.

It's just that you donated it last year,

and I thought maybe you would do it again.

And I thought that my ex-husband liked women,

so I guess we're both cruelly disappointed.

The thing is, we need to get enough money

to pay for things like the Special Ed department.

Hi!

Still here!

Can't get rid of me that easy!

You girls are in for a treat. Over the next two days,

we're gonna relive the Westport Massacre--

an event where real people were inspired

to stand up against tyranny

and change the course of the nation.

But they all got massacred, right?

Sure, if you want to nitpick.

Okay, here's where the excitement begins.

You get to choose whatever you want to be--

a soldier, a scout, a musket loader--

Actually, Corporal Otto, women can't be whatever they want.

They can only be what's on this list.

Not much of a list.

Do I detect a tone of insubordination?

Sir, no, sir. Corporal, we all understand

the importance of historical accuracy.

Without that, we're just a bunch of dorks

running around a field. And I'm not missing

my once-a-month supervised visitation day

with my kid for that.

In the real battle,

the only females involved were nurses.

Is that understood?

Yes, sir. Understood, sir. Good.

Okay. Change of plans,

but... also exciting.

Think of how cool being a nurse will be.

You get to run around the battlefield,

carrying the wounded-- Correction.

Nurses are confined to the medical tent--

nursing "wounds," tending to the "dead,"

and preparing the hot stew which was generously provided to us

today by Chunky.

History sucks.

Yep, history sucks for women.

For men, it was pretty all right.

There is a new name on my hate list.

Nancy Granville.

How did you know?

Oliver called us.

He told us you struck out with a bunch of moms

at drop-off today.

Oliver called you?

Yep. On the phone?

To complain about me?

He's worried your Florida-ness--

his words--

is impeding your ability to perform

in the capacity of Gala Chairperson.

And as much as I hate to admit it,

that horrible child is right.

In Westport, any charity donation

comes from a quid pro quo.

You want big items, you have to give something in return.

You know why Nancy Granville donated her place in Sun Valley

to the Gala last year?

You don't know why!

It's because Stacy Clouser gave her use of her personal chef.

For a week. Hold on.

So to get the people in Westport to donate big, fancy items

to the Gala, they need a favor in return?

But I don't have anything of value to offer.

You could let people hunt Greg in the woods,

"Most Dangerous Game" style.

I'd pay good money for that. Mnh-mnh.

No one is hunting Greg.

He's not spry.

Fine.

Well, I do have a $20,000 gold-embroidered sofa.

You could offer it to Nancy for her ski house.

It's gorgeous.

Why don't you keep it?

It's too high. It's humiliating.

My legs dangle like a ventriloquist dummy.

I don't need your sofa

because I refuse to buy into this stupid Westport,

rich-person, horse-trading nonsense.

Mm. Ah.

Oh, Katie, hi.

Hate to interrupt your second feeding,

but I heard you're failing miserably

at getting donations for the Gala.

Well, a $100 gas card says otherwise.

Actually $50. I had to fill up.

I want you to know that I can't wait to laugh at you

when this falls apart.

Then I'll pretend that I took it too far.

Then I'll comfort you just enough

so that you think it's real,

and then I'll laugh some more in your face.

Well, I'm not gonna fail.

Because I just decided to play the game.

Big-ticket donations, here I come.

Great! I will give you $10,000 to hunt Greg!

No one is hunting Greg!

Nancy!

How funny to bump into you.

Is it? What do you want, Katie?

I have a little something I'd like to offer

in exchange for your ski house.

Drum roll, please.

Doris' $20,000 gold-embroidered sofa.

Doris has been trying to give that thing away

to everyone in town.

It's awful.

It has "Doris" written across it in huge gold letters, so...

no, thank you.

Would you prefer to hunt Greg in the woods?

Hi. Mom?

Funny to bump into you here.

I know you followed me. I don't need your help.

Oh, but you do.

Hey, Cooper Bradford, close friend of the family,

come on over here.

Hi, Mrs. Granville.

Cooper?

What a wonderful surprise!

How are your parents?

They're good, yeah.

They are vay-vacationing in Positano.

Ooh. What's vay-vacationing?

Well, they were vacationing in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat

and they needed a vacation from their vacation.

Oh!

Whew. Would you consider marrying a much older woman?

No...

Would you?

Mom, speaking of Mr. and Mrs. Bradford...

Cooper just informed me that his parents

are happy to host a table at this year's Spring Gala.

Mrs. Granville, perhaps you'd be willing to donate

your Sun Valley house

in exchange for sitting right next to them?

Oh.

The house is yours.

Would you excuse me for one moment?

What just happened?

Did I just get the Sun Valley house?

Mom, get woke.

Everyone wants access to the Bradfords.

They're the most powerful couple in town.

Sitting at a table with them for even an hour

can elevate people's social status.

If we offer up seats at the Bradfords' table

for big-ticket items, we're gonna make a killing.

Thus elevating our social status.

What do you say? Say it again.

Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat.

So sophisticated!

You tell your parents I said that, now.

Okay, Oliver, let's do this.

Finally. Welcome to my side.

Why do I feel like I'm making a deal with the Devil?

Oh, thank God.

I'm sorry, young man. The leg has to go.

Glad someone's having fun.

You just have to get into it.

Create a character.

For example, I'm a poor Massachusetts housewife

who, after witnessing the horrors of war,

has developed a morphine habit

to deaden the pain.

Hey, girls!

Dad! Are you wounded?

We'll probably have to take the leg.

Sorry, pumpkin.

I just wanted to see how you guys were holding up.

Taylor, what are you doing?

I'm using a Snapchat filter where it looks like

you're vomiting rainbows.

Put it away.

I got you out of school so you could learn

about our great nation, not play on your phone.

Dad, this sucks.

We're stuck here in this tent

doing all the crap jobs

while all the guys are out there having fun.

Don't you think it's a little uncool that--

My daughter's not giving this a fair shot? No. That--

You're rejecting one of the most glorious learning experiences

a person can have? That only the girls are treated this way.

Especially this day and age.

But it isn't this day and age.

That's the whole point.

Corporal Otto, why aren't you at your post?

Oh, sorry, sir. I was just checking on my girls.

A phone?

What-- What are you doing with a pho--

Or rather, what are doing with some futuristic device

that I don't know about? Because I'm in the 1700s.

It's no big deal. I'll just put it away.

Oh. No big deal.

Okay.

Then maybe it's "no big deal" that I demote you, Private Otto.

See you on the battlefield.

Go!

Back to private.

You just flushed three whole years

of online reenactment class down the toilet!

I've got you down for two seats at the Bradford table.

And in return,

you'll donate your private jet for the weekend--

Is that correct?

Great!

Thank you for your donations.

Put the Bumgarners on the board!

Mom, I got to be honest.

I'm actually having fun.

We're like a mother/son "Wolf of Wall Street."

I'm Leo. You're Jonah Hill.

Can't say that I love the Jonah Hill comparison, but...

this is pretty awesome.

Hey, guys! How'd it go?

So fun! I amputated a ton of legs.

Sometimes I accidentally took the wrong one

just so I could do two. Mm.

Mom, Dad won't let me go back to school.

It's a two-day battle, so no school for you.

What happened out there?

What's happening in here?

Oliver is teaching me the ways of Westport.

I'm using Cooper Bradford's parents

as bait to dupe the rich idiots

into coughing up fancy auction items.

And we're killin' it. Mother/son robot dance!

Katie, a moment?

What happened to not getting sucked into Westport culture?

I know it's weird, but Oliver is helping me

lock in donations for the Gala

and has taught me the wonderful feeling

that comes with money and power.

I don't like any of this.

I don't like what you just said, I don't like this board,

and I feel like your hair may be a little bit different.

Don't listen to him. You're finally getting respect in this town.

But at what cost? Don't lose who you are

in pursuit of material gains. But think of the power.

Surely there must be a better way to get what you want.

People will want to know you.

You don't want to know anyone, Katie.

People will want to be you.

That's not what you're about.

And you can finally destroy Tara Summers.

Winner! Sorry, Greg.

I'm going with the kid on this one.

Fine. But for the record,

I don't like the crowd you're running with.

Who? Oliver?

Yes.

Katie! Hi!

Don't you look adorable today.

Someone's clearly heard how I'm killing it with the Gala.

I have. And I also heard

that there's one more seat available at the Bradford table.

Well, by happy coincidence,

our timeshare in the Bahamas is suddenly available.

Which I'd be happy to donate.

Oh, really? That is a happy coincidence.

Your timeshare's no good here.

And the Bahamas? Really?

What, are we filming "Cocktail"?

Move along.

Mom...

Oliver, why didn't you tell me it was so much fun

being a Westport douchebag?

That's literally all I talk about.

Mom, bad news.

Cooper Bradford just got suspended

and might get expelled. If the school throws him out,

there's no way his parents will sponsor a table at the Gala.

Oh, man!

Nothing ever goes my way!

First you three kids, now this!

Principal Ablin?

Oh, hi, Katie.

If you're here to complain again,

we now have a meat option on vegan day.

I need your help with the Cooper Bradford situation.

You need to unsuspend him.

First, you're not his parent.

And do you even know what the Cooper Bradford situation is?

No. But how bad can it be?

He paid the smart kids in his math class

to tank their midterm and lower the curve

so he didn't have to study.

That's terrible.

Yeah. It is.

Back in my day, if you wanted to cheat,

you'd just write the formulas on your upper thigh

and then call the teacher a pervert if he busted you.

It's not so much how he cheated.

It's that he cheated.

Yeah, I got it, but here's my problem--

I have to get Cooper out of trouble,

otherwise the whole Spring Gala falls apart on me.

And since the Gala is where a large amount

of the funding for the school comes from,

without it, other things fall apart, too.

Like the new planned renovation of the teachers' lounge

that I just thought of.

Mrs. Otto, two of our brightest kids

were dis-invited from the Math-a-lathon because of this.

We're lucky they're still allowed to compete

in the Biolog-a-lympics.

Okay, let's me and you talk,

poor person to poor person.

I do very well, thank you.

I drive an Elantra. Stop it.

We're both a couple of poors, and we know it.

And the rich people are always using us poors

for what they want.

Don't you think it's time that a couple of poors

use one of the richies for what we want?

I hear rumor of a very nice sofa being offered around town.

It says "Doris" on it in gold?

My cat's name is Doris.

Your attention!

The British have surrounded us!

But before we begin the massacre,

I'd like to go over the rules.

As per usual, we will be using verbal "bangs"

to represent shots fired.

Also, Paul will place stickers on victims

to indicate they've been hit.

Okay! Commence massacre!

Aim! Fire!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Fire!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

- Fire! - Bang!

Fire!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Fire!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

I'm hit!

Shoulder? Really?

Ricochet.

Excellent death, honey.

Thanks, Dad.

I can't get these pants dirty.

Last time, they were so expensive to dry clean.

Taylor, die.

No.

You're shot again! Go down!

No!

Boom!

Cannonball!

You will die right now, young lady!

No, Dad!

This is totally unfair!

I can't be a soldier because it's historically inaccurate?

But people are just yelling "bang."

And there's a guy putting stickers on people

to show they've been shot.

You're fine overlooking these things

but not letting girls be soldiers?

Nurse, you will die now!

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Don't yell at my daughter.

Back on the ground, Private Otto,

or I'll send you to the stockade.

No, you won't, Elliot.

How dare you?

I am Captain Beauregard of the Fifth Battalion!

No, you're Elliot Grady.

You sell lambs' wool car-seat covers

out of a kiosk in the Stamford Mall.

Stop using words that haven't been invented yet!

Look, my daughter is right.

None of this is 100% accurate.

Jim wears color contacts.

They're stunning, sure, but come on, accurate?

And I happen to know that you wear support socks!

I have phlebitis in my ankles!

All I'm saying is--

is what my daughter's asking for so wrong?

May I remind you all that this is the Westport Massacre!

I'm sorry.

This is the Chunky Soup Westport Massacre!

I want to bring my inhaler.

I want to wear my back brace.

I'd like to bring a football to throw during down times.

Paul, get these men in line.

Bang.

Oh, I die?

I die?

Okay, you know what dies with me?

My Netflix password.

Yeah, didn't think that one through, did you?

Nope. No, un-die me!

Thanks, Dad. It was the right thing to do.

I'm sorry I didn't support you sooner.

If it makes you feel any better,

I think I actually get what you like about history.

You do? Yeah.

Being a part of a mini revolution

and standing up to a tyrant,

it kind of helps me understand

how those people really must've felt.

Aw, honey.

I'm so proud of you for having the courage

to stand up for what you believe in.

And that you learned about the Revolution by yourself.

No, Dad. You learned it to me.

Actually, the proper--

You know what? Who cares?

We learned it to each other.

Oh, what's the celebration? I'm a free man.

Mrs. Otto got Principal Ablin to unsuspend me.

By giving him Doris' sofa, thereby saving the Gala.

Wait, you bribed the principal?

Uh...

Yes, but who cares?

Your Gala's gonna be a success.

Don't give in. You fight against this town.

Don't be seduced by it.

No, let it pour you a Scotch and rub your feet.

Come on, Katie, I know you're in there.

I'm feeling a little peckish.

Do you guys have, like, a charcuterie plate

or some Marcona almonds?

Oh, my God.

Your dad's right.

Wait. No, he's not.

Robot.

Sorry, Oliver.

I did a bad thing.

And you.

What you did at school was awful,

and you need to be punished.

You're grounded.

Uh, "grounded" is when you're forced to stay at home

and lose all of your privileges.

Mm-hmm. Stay home?

Great. Guess I get to work on my bowling

and play with my zebra.

No, you are staying at our house.

So I get to stay here?

Bueno.

Before I die,

I'm gonna make you sad.

So, Mrs. Bradford, everything with the school is fine.

I managed to make sure that Cooper did not get kicked out.

But I did ground him.

"Grounding" is when somebody takes away

somebody's privileges.

Okay... well...

then we'll see you at the Gala, then.

Bye.

I actually feel sorry for the kid.

I had no idea you could wash your own car.

This is a first for me.

Yeah, washing our cars

is a first for the Otto family, too.

I guess this is why Bentley comes in wet sometimes.

Feeling passed.

Yeah.