Original subtitles

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?