Original subtitles

I can't believe this window is still stuck.

I'm freezing to death!

Before you die,

where in your room did you hide your Halloween candy?

Mom, I didn't think any car

could be worse than your minivan.

But here we are.

Kindly address all complaints to your father.

He's the one who's been driving around

with that broken window for two years.

I'm pretending I'm Shackleton

when his boat got stuck in the ice.

I'm pretending I was switched at birth

and my real family is waiting at school

to whisk me back to our castle.

Okay, we're here!

Time for you to bother other grown-ups.

Love you!

Mama, the door won't open.

It still won't open.

Mine, too! Oh God, we're trapped!

This is just like Shackleton.

Pretty soon, we're gonna be eating the sled dogs.

The electrical is shot.

Maybe I shouldn't have bought that big subwoofer

from the guy who bags my groceries.

Oh, my God, there's the new guy, Trip Windsor.

All right, abandon ship.

Everyone, crawl out of Taylor's window.

No way!

Not in this shirt!

I finally found John Varvatos at Marshalls.

No, not in front of Trip!

I'll just quit school and stay here.

Yeah, she doesn't need school.

Let her embrace her future.

Take her to the nearest Lancôme counter.

The longer it takes for you to crawl,

the longer people are gonna stare.

To the lifeboats!

Thank you for the most humiliating moment of my life!

Please!

Wait till you hear my speech at your wedding.

So that is why I am never driving your car again.

Well, at least you got the doors to work when you got home.

I got birthed by a sedan today, Greg.

And the OB-GYN?

The neighbor's gardener.

It's time to take your car to the mechanic

and get it fixed.

I'd love to,

but I just don't think we can afford to right now.

My book comes out tomorrow,

and if it doesn't sell, I'm not getting tenure.

Do you know what happens to professors who don't get tenure?

Don't spiral.

They end up substitute teachers

moonlighting as hosts at the Cheesecake Factory!

I'm gonna gain 15...

like that! Aaand... you're spiraling.

Why are you assuming the worst?

It doesn't matter about the book.

You're gonna get tenure either way.

Katie, that's not how it works.

If the book fails, we could end up in the poor house.

End up?

Not one countertop in this entire house

is made of granite.

We're already here.

Himalayan salt?

Who are we, Facebook employees five through nine?

And who's not finishing their Go-Gurt?

This family is now on a budget.

New rule-- if you're food, you get eaten.

But what about Hans Gruber?

He's food!

Are you gonna eat him?!

What? No.

Hans Gruber, we knew this day would come.

Run!

I'm gonna leave a candle on my window tonight

so my parents with a castle can find me.

Greg's book comes out today,

and he's worried nobody's gonna buy it.

I'll buy one.

What? I bet he has a dreamy author photo

where he's sort of staring at you

with his glasses dangling from his pillowy lips.

Doris, you have your own husband to fantasize about.

All my Richard fantasies involve me pushing him off a boat.

So, is Greg spiraling?

To save money on electricity,

he wants us to unplug the digital clock

and just reset it every time we get home.

Greg is spiraling. I need that car fixed.

This morning when the gardener pulled me through the window,

he got a big handful of Katie.

Well, maybe Greg's book will get some positive reviews

and he'll calm down.

Maybe.

Or definitely.

You two are going to review his book on Amazon.

If there's homework,

I'm gonna stop coming to these breakfasts.

You don't have to read it-- Just give it a glowing review.

The positive feedback will make him feel better.

Then he'll relax, and then we can fix the car.

Do you really think our two reviews

are gonna make a difference?

Trust me, one of my favorite things about Greg

is that a little breeze at his back blows him a long way.

Merry Christmas, Greg.

Oh, honey,

you shouldn't spend money on lottery tickets--

no one ever wins.

Look at that! I won $10!

Kids, we're going to Benihana!

Everyone can have sodas!

I went to Benihana once.

The chef flipped shrimp tails in the air

and caught them in his hat.

It was like a circus... in a restaurant!

So you'll help me?

I've been sitting with you for an hour and a half on a Thursday.

I clearly have nothing better to do.

What's with all the fruits and the leafy-green vegetables?

Where is my diet soda?

That stuff's terrible for you.

It's loaded with chemicals.

70% of my portfolio's chemicals--

why shouldn't 70% of my body be, as well?

70% of your portfolio?

Interesting.

What are you doing?

I need to do a report for school

about a successful person in my life,

and I'm choosing you.

Oh. So let's start from the beginning--

what drove you to become the man you are today?

Well, I guess it was my dad.

He shined shoes in Grand Central Station.

My drive is not to struggle like he did.

You know that saying, "Money can't buy you happiness"?

Yeah?

Well, it's nonsense.

Written by a rich person

to make poor people feel better about their sad lives.

Rich people are the best.

I want to do better than my dad, too.

Well, doesn't your dad have a book coming out?

Yeah, today.

Well, he can make some dollars off of that.

It's called "John Stuart Mill and the Consequences

of a Thoroughgoing Empiricist Outlook."

Oh. Well...

money can't buy you happiness.

Katie!

Yeah?

The first reviews of my book are in and they love it!

Amazing! Listen to this!

"This isn't just the best

John Stuart Mill book I've ever read--

it's the best book I've ever read, period."

Wow. Here's another.

"Greg Otto is clearly a gifted author and historian.

And what a handsome author photo."

Well, thank you...

DragonLady853.

I told you that you were overreacting.

They go on and on. See?

You were worried about nothing.

Who knows, maybe somewhere down the road,

a John Stuart Mill musical.

You're right.

"Mill" is so much easier to rhyme than "Hamilton."

Will. Kill. Chill.

Look at this, I'm writing already!

And we'll get your car all fixed up.

You know what? I'm taking it in the shop today.

And I'm springin' for a gas cap.

Say goodbye, wad of balled-up paper towels.

Thank you, DragonLady853 and WifeStealaForeva.

Oh, my God!

You are not going to believe this--

Londyn told Summit who told Zola

that Trip Windsor is going to ask me to the winter dance.

Who? He's the gorgeous new guy at school.

Nobody knows anything about him.

He's totally mysterious.

Perfect. Mysterious stranger--

every mother's dream.

What, were there no drifters

who kept to themselves available?

Dad. He could be a great guy.

Impossible! His name is Trip?

The most slappable name in the world.

Now who's assuming the worst?

Sometimes you need to take the leap and see what happens.

Like I did with my book, and [Chuckles]...

I say go for it. Thanks, Dad.

You're not going to any dance with a boy that we haven't met!

Katie, jump and the net will appear.

Damn you, DragonLady853 and WifeStealaForeva!

Anna-Kat: Stay.

Stay.

Stay!

Please, Hans Gruber! You have to hide!

You need to understand--

you've lived a very sheltered life.

But now people you've loved and trusted want to eat you.

Why did you have to be so delicious?

Okay...

when I turn back around, you better be gone.

1...

2...

3!

Where was this obedience

when I told you to stop pooping in my closet?

Hans Gruber...

you can't fall asleep without your lavender night mask!

Sounds like the reviews worked.

Two days later, and he's out getting the car fixed.

Yeah, but I think you guys might've gone too far.

There's a subtle shift in Greg ever since he read them.

He encouraged Taylor to hang out with Trip,

and he's been doing finger guns quite a bit lately.

Is that so bad?

That's horrible! I am so sorry!

But he'll snap back when his book doesn't sell.

But then you'll have a depressed Greg on your hands.

That I know how to handle.

I make him a meatloaf, let him call me Martha,

and we play a little game called

"General Washington comes home from the war."

Please don't tell me you have a costume.

You have a costume.

Wow. He got the horn fixed.

That was fast.

That is not your car.

Well, ladies, what do you think?

You bought a brand-new car?

I got a great deal.

The dealership gave me

a month of satellite radio for free!

We can't afford a new car.

We can't afford a new anything.

The net has appeared.

It's even worse when he does it.

Oh, my God, he holstered them.

What is this?

You were supposed to get your car fixed.

I was, until I pulled into the shop at the dealership

and I saw this baby in the window.

Sometimes you just have to say, "What the heck?"

Mm.

Then I stopped at Benihana for lunch.

It's not as fun when it's just you. Greg.

This is a new car.

We're not a new-car family.

We're not a new-anything family.

You know why our pillowcases are so soft?

I bought them at the Petersons' yard sale.

That's right, we sleep on dead-people sheets.

I knew you'd be a bit hesitant. Let me show you what this baby's got.

Front-wheel drive.

Heated front seats.

Intelligent clearance sonar.

Ask me what that means?

I don't know, but it's awesome!

Does that have any features

that let you go back in time and return it?

I know my cheap Greg is in there somewhere.

The one who waters down Palmolive

so I can barely get my dishes clean.

What are you talking about?

This car needs to go back.

Katie, we're fine.

The reviews for my book are amazing.

It'll be a hit-- I'll get tenure.

We deserve to be a new-car family.

Your book only has two reviews.

Two stellar reviews.

Yeah.

"This isn't a book-- it's a revelation.

This love letter to Mill is a masterpiece

our generation doesn't deserve."

That...

is an excellent turn of phrase.

There's another one.

"This treatise has no equal.

It is the sun and we are fortunate to bask in its light.

Greg Otto is a luminary."

But reviews are not sales.

A luminary, Katie.

Whoa, Taylor's really stepped up her game.

Hey, guys.

This is Trip-- my non-drifter date to the dance.

Whoa!

Sweet ride.

Love this guy. See? Who was right?

Is there anything I'm not nailin' today?

Yeah, I can think of something.

So, is that your car?

Yeah. Yep. My parents promised to buy the car if I got straight C's.

Ahh.

Straight C's?

Yeah. And I finally got 'em.

Mm.

Well, one D, but it was just English,

so my parents were cool.

What kinda mileage you get on that thing?

Uhhh...

If this is a test,

I'm legally allowed to take it untimed.

Whoa!

This thing's got so many buttons.

Yeah, it does. High five!

Red sports-car club!

Yeah.

Great.

Now I'm dealing with a smart moron and a moron moron.

Hans Gruber?

Where have you gone to?

I've got your favorite food-- trash.

This is all your fault.

Our fault? Yes!

Your reviews were too good.

And now Greg is spending money we don't have.

Hey, don't hand Michelangelo a paint brush

and then complain when you get the Sistine Chapel.

I got them to throw in a free month of satellite radio,

and this month has 31 days, so...

Legend!

I've got to tell Greg the truth.

That you had us make up reviews

so he could feel good and you could get your car fixed?

God, that's the truth?

The truth sounds awful.

Greg, can I have a word with you?

Kind of in the middle of a red-sports-car club meeting.

Come on, Trip, let's go.

Whenever my mom says that,

it's never one word, and it's never good.

Meeting adjourned.

Love it.

About the reviews you got--

Yeah, I still can't believe them. Good.

That is a good zone to be in,

but the thing is--

Whoa! It's my publisher. Talk to me, Vance.

Thank God. I'm off the hook.

His publisher will tell him the book bombed,

and I'll be here to cheer him up

dressed as a panty-less Martha Washington.

Then we can return the car and go back to normal.

Oh, Greg, I'm sorry.

The book sold out. All 10,000 copies.

It's a hit!

Yeah, I'd be speechless, too,

if I found myself married to a luminary.

Sorry, "moist."

"Luminary" just became my new least-favorite word.

A best-seller and a new car?

Sounds like your dad's on a roll.

I won't be offended if you want to write that report on him.

Why would I write about him when I can write about you?

Your life's amazing.

You were the one

who turned Michael Jackson on to chimpanzees.

Anyone can write about me. Hell, plenty of people have.

But no one has yet broken the story of Greg Otto.

I guess.

But my dad's never even been to prison.

And I don't want you to keep

building up federal prison in your head.

I mean, it's great,

but to put it in terms you'd understand--

Oahu, Lanai, Maui, prison, Kauai.

It's true. It's sold out.

I know.

Greg is so happy.

It's like that time he thought

he saw Bill Nye at the farmers market.

Hello.

Hmm...

Do we have any tapenade?

I don't think so because I don't know what that is.

Well, we're gonna need to get some

because now that I'm a celebrated author,

I'm gonna start hosting a weekly salon

here at the house.

Why would we get haircuts in our house?

Oh, Katie. No.

A salon is a gathering of minds to explore intellectual topics.

I'm not loving what's going on here.

You ladies are welcome to come to the salon,

as observers, of course.

You can observe me giving you one of these.

Okay.

I know you're not happy with where you are in life,

but someday, girls, like me,

your ship will come in.

Uh, I only have my kids every other weekend.

My ship has come in, baby.

You know, sometimes I think your Second Breakfast rants

are just you complaining, but this [bleep] is real.

See you at school.

Hey, Kate, can you tell Greg that I had to scoot?

Mrs. Otto will tell Mr. Otto

that Taylor's new friend had to leave.

Yeah, you can tell him, too.

Whatever. Trip...

I don't think you and Taylor should date.

Totally!

We're on the same page.

Keeping it caj.

Just a fun, physical thing, you know?

Lates, Kate.

Easy on the eyes. Tough on the brain.

Bright side--

Taylor gets to be the smart one in the relationship.

Ugh!

Greg and Taylor are stressing me out!

I'm going to go sit in the new Camry

and enjoy that there are no sticky pennies

stuck in the cup holders.

Hans Gruber!

Ohh, hey, bacon legs, get back here!

Ohh!

I don't know what the pig told you,

but they're not mine.

How many of Greg's books did you buy?

All of them.

Why?

Well, Oliver was interviewing me

for a report on someone successful in his life,

and I thought he should do it on his dad

instead of me.

So you bought the books to make Greg look good.

Well, a boy should be proud of his father.

I wasn't, and I regret it.

That's very sweet of you, Spencer.

But 10,000 copies?

I only meant to buy a few dozen, but when I did--

Have you seen this amazon.com thing?

Of course!

You haven't lived until you get a snow shovel

and baby carrots in the same package.

I'm banned from trading stocks,

so when I started buying Greg's book

and I saw it climb up the sales ranking,

it gave me a rush like the old days.

And before I knew it, I bought them all.

Come on, Hans Gruber.

Let's go home and bring our luminary back down to Earth.

What are you going to do with all these books?

Disappoint trick-or-treaters for the next 10 or so years.

Greg, I need to talk to you about something.

Hans Gruber, you're safe,

and you don't have to hide anymore!

My dad's book is a success,

so we can afford not to eat you!

Well, Hans, don't get too comfortable.

Greg, I need to tell you s--

"Until this report, I never knew

that my dad wrote his book at night

after we all went to sleep.

Sometimes he worked until 4:00 in the morning

because he put his family first.

He didn't sacrifice us for his dream.

And still, his dream came true.

Sometimes being a good man

makes you a great man.

I couldn't be more proud to be his son."

That's the best review I've ever gotten.

I'm gonna put a cover on this

and go watch "Game of Thrones."

No, you're not.

All my friends are allowed to.

No, they're not.

Mm.

I'm proud of you, too.

Thanks, honey.

What did you want to talk about?

Just, um...

What should we serve at your salon?

Hmm...

pistachios.

Pistachios?

Oh, God, I so want to tell him about the books!

Hey, Mom. Trip's gonna pick me up.

We're gonna go see a movie. Taylor.

Sit down.

Here it comes.

Here what comes?

You don't like him. You don't want me seeing him.

You think I'm too good for him.

That's the gist of it,

but I would have said it snarkier.

I still want to date him. Why?

Because he's nice. And he's cute.

And you always talk about all the dumb guys

you dated before Dad.

Maybe the reason you fell in love with him

is because you got all those dumb guys out of your system.

No.

Don't you make me see things in a new light.

I promise I won't be home late.

All right.

Go to the movies.

Just nothing 3-D.

You don't want him doing this the whole time.

I was thinking Wednesday for your salon.

I'll have the tapenade ready.

I looked it up online.

Turns out it's just a fancy word for mushed-up olives.

I know that Spencer bought all my books.

And I know you know.

I wanted to do a book tour.

So my publisher tracked my sales

to see which cities I should visit.

Turns out all my books sold in just one town--

just this town-- just one address.

Spencer's.

He just assumed I was there because you'd already told me everything.

He gave me a signed copy of my own book.

I don't know why he signed it.

So, thanks.

For what?

For knowing the truth but letting me have the win,

even though I was acting like a pompous jerk.

You weren't pompous, honey.

You were just a luminary planning a salon.

Oh, God.

I guess I let success get to my head.

Well, that won't be a problem now.

Only one person bought my book. Hey!

Who knows how many books you might have sold

if Spencer hadn't bought them all?

Yeah, I guess.

Plus, as far as the tenure committee knows,

you sold 10,000 books!

Don't do that thing

where you tell people the truth when you don't have to.

You don't bring the empty candy wrappers

to the cash register.

You tuck them behind some produce.

Katie, ethically, I feel I have to tell them--

That's the only way we get to keep the car.

That my book sold out on the first day.

You wouldn't believe the day I had, honey.

But it was worth it. We won.

So the British surrendered?

Yes, verily.

We surprised them at Yorktown

and battled them back to the ocean.

That's wonderful, George.

Now eat some meat loaf and then we'll retire upstairs.

Eat fast. The kids' movie ends at 9:00.

Mmm!

Yeah.