Original subtitles

Previously on The Hard Times of RJ Berger...

If you never get wheels then you never get

to have fun in the back seat.

Amy, I completely understand if you

never wanna see me again.

Think she's a keeper or a clunker?

Definitely a keeper.

Today is the worst day of the year.

Most kids can't wait for their 16th birthday.

Then again, most kids don't have to deal

with Max Owens.

Don't move. Empty your pockets.

Happy birthday!

- It's the big 1-6. - Thank you.

So what's with the hoodie?

You tryin' to hide from me?

No, it's just... I really hate my birthday.

But you're turning 16, it's supposed to be sweet.

And besides, I have

a really special gift for you tonight.

Hint-hint, it comes in a box.

As half-mast as I am at the thought of that,

I just am really trying to get through the day

without being humiliated.

Humiliated by what?

Aah!

You didn't think I'd forget your birthday, did you, tubesteak?

Don't worry, you're gonna get

the Max-imum torture

Count Freak-ula!

Whoo! Owens!

Tell me that's flour.

Medicated foot powder.

Dude, happy bi... what?

Oh!

That's why Max wanted your locker combination.

Stupid!

My name is RJ Berger.

And I hate my birthday.

Gotta give Max some credit.

He put a lot of work into that prank.

Actually, that's pretty tame

as far as Max's birthday gifts go.

Wait, this has happened before?

Well... not exactly.

Happy, happy birthday!

In the first grade, Max knew I was

terrified of clowns.

Happy birthday! I'm gonna kill you!

In the fifth grade, I got to bring my pet hamster Magneto

- to school for the day. - Give me that.

Three-pointer!

Magneto!

Nuthin' but net!

And who can forget...

eighth grade.

Blow that out, loser.

So why don't you put an end to it?

He's a force of nature, Amy.

There's nothing I can do but just ride out the storm.

- Yup. - Wow.

What happened to the cute, confident kid

I fell for in the library?

RJ, these things happen to you

because you let them happen to you.

You wanna bone down?

Then man up.

Wow, I kinda like this girl.

Great, now I lost my shot at birthday sex with Amy.

Looks like I'll be the only one

washing white stuff off their face today.

Yeah, that was never gonna happen.

- What? - Look, no offense, RJ.

But you're like the boy who cried vagina.

- Enlighten me. - Okay.

Every time a girl... ahem, Jenny Swanson, ahem,

says tonight's the night, it's not.

Berger!

You have a visitor.

Mom, what are you doing here?

There's my birthday boy.

I just came by to drop off

these Excaliboar cupcakes I stayed up all night baking.

Mom, thank you, but I'm not seven.

I'm in the middle of gym class.

Sorry, honey. Jeriba let me in.

- Didn't you? - Yeah.

Oh, just look at him.

And to think that only ten years ago,

he was sucking on these puppies like a junkie on a crackpipe.

Mm, those are my crackpipes now.

- Yes, they are. - Heh-heh!

Wait, you were still breastfeeding at six?

All right. Mom, time to go.

All right, all right, I'm off.

Mwah.

I love you, my little angel.

And I'll see you later my little devil.

Oh, yes, you will.

Wanna try one of these before I go?

- Have a taste. - Yeah, I'll have a taste.

Have a taste.

Mmm.

Yeah.

Get her, Coach!

Well, it's official.

This is the worst birthday of my life.

First Max tortures me,

then my mom humiliates me.

And now Amy thinks I'm a pussy!

RJ, you are a pussy.

Thanks, guys, you always know how to cheer me up.

Hey, yo. How about we throw a party?

You're turning 16, dog. This is your time.

All right, forget about Max for a little while

and just get crazy.

How about we all throw an anti-Max freak fest?

You know, rub it in his face, homie!

Dude, that's genius.

Imagine having a party filled with everyone but Max.

All the people he's ever hurt

or bullied over all the years.

I'm talking the geeks, emos, stoners, his ex-girlfriends.

Everyone comes together and celebrates their hatred for Max.

- And Robin. - That's my bitch!

Word, we'd all come to that, dog.

Yeah, that sounds amazing, but it's suicide.

The second Max hears about it, he'll...

He'll humiliate you? Beat you up?

He already does that, RJ.

And don't forget the birthday sex.

You know, Max has tormented me for 16 years.

Tonight, it's his turn.

We're having us a party,

and Max is not invited.

- I can make flyers. - I'll decorate.

- I'll bring the crew. - Sounds like you're

about to have your cake and it, too.

Whoo!

Hey, birthday boy.

- Big plans tonight? - Actually, yeah.

I'm thinking about having a birthday party.

Oh, heck. You oughta throw it at my place.

My neighbors keep asking me if I'm looking for a good time.

I don't think that's what they mean.

Oh, this'll be great, yeah!

I'll get you a keg and you can invite

as many people as you want.

I can get you and Amy a discounted rate on a room.

Huh? Huh? RJ likey?

RJ would likey,

if Amy hadn't called him a pussy who needs to grow a pair.

Hmm. The best thing about being a dad

is watching your son learn

one of the fundamental truths of scoring.

It's a tale as old as time.

When the booty calls, you gotta have balls.

What are the chances of you getting me into

the assistant principal's office?

So Jenny's on publicity, and, Miles,

- you'll be on security. - Cool.

Just push this button.

When the light turns red, it's on.

All right, thanks, got it.

Attention, Pinkerton High.

My name is RJ Berger. And today, I'm turning 16.

Oh, that's my boy!

To celebrate, I'd like to

invite you all to my birthday party.

Where we'll be honoring Pinkerton's biggest douchebag,

- Max Owens. - Boy got a death wish.

We'll be serving up live music,

cold beverages, and the Max-imum revenge.

So if you hate Max as much as I do,

then come to the No-Tell Motel tonight at 8:00 PM.

for the first-ever Max Bash!

And, Max, you're not invited.

- Nice work, son. - Dad, uh, release the button.

- Oh, yeah, okay. - What the hell was that?

A Max Bash?

Berger's a dead man.

Hey, every dog has his day.

That's statistics, bro.

Yeah? Well, I got a statistic for you.

1000%.

That's how many times we're gonna destroy

this dork convention.

God, I love it when you're cruel.

- Nasty. - Eww!

♪ We're never gonna be as young as we are ♪

Pin the tail on the douchebag.

Come to the Max Bash tonight at 8:00 PM

at the No-Tell Motel.

Beer, cake, revenge!

8:00 PM!

Dude, this is unbelievable.

These are going faster than lube at the Jonas Brothers' house.

This party's gonna be off the chain!

RJ.

All right, I'll catch you later.

- What is going on? - Did you miss

my announcement over the PA system?

I guess so, I was in band rehearsal.

We tend to get a teensy bit loud.

Wait, I'm sorry. You're in a band?

Uh, yeah, don't I seem like I'd be in a band?

That's amazing. You can play

at the party tonight.

Max Bash?

RJ, this is awesome!

Of course we'll play.

It'll be our first real gig.

- You little bitch! - Aah!

You think you could just diss me

- in front of the whole school? - Leave him alone, asshole!

I'm gonna make you wish you never had a birthday.

God damn it, Owens! Get your ass in the gym

before I put you in detention!

- Who's side are you on, Coach? - Gym, now!

This is not over, Berger.

Ay! I do nothing.

Thanks. You didn't need to do that.

Yeah, well, gotta look out for my number one son, right?

You know, uh, I was thinking.

Maybe Susie and I might stop by tonight.

Oh, well, you know. The party's at my dad's hotel.

- Mm-hmm. - So, you know,

- probably not the best idea. - I see.

Keeping your own mama away from your birthday party.

That's cold, brother.

That's ice cold.

I've gathered you here today because you're the best.

Tonight, we'll be going deep cover.

Glasses.

Ugly clothing. And sandals.

Our mission will begin here,

at exactly zero-ten-hundred hours.

10:00 PM.

- Oh. - Then,

at 10:30 we will infiltrate the dork party here.

And execute Operation Messer-Upper

with extreme prejudice.

Once our mission

is complete,

we will "ren-dez-venous" back here,

at approximately 11:00 PM.

Wait, wait, wait. Where's there?

That's Robin's house. Her mom's making us chili.

Chili. Hey, hey, hey!

- Nice. - But first,

we're gonna change Berger's birthday,

into his death day.

Death day.

That's a good one.

Hey! There's my birthday boy!

Welcome to your party, RJ.

Hey, everybody, come on out and meet my son!

Hey, Ricky's son is here.

- Hi. - This is my boy

I've been telling you about, it's his 16th birthday!

Happy birthday!

- Thanks, ladies. - Uh, they're not ladies, son.

So, um, you're the only one setting up?

Let's break this place, bitches!

Wow.

♪ Happy birthday, you bitch ♪

♪ Happy birthday, you bitch ♪

♪ Happy birthday, you bitch ♪

Check, check. One, two, check, check.

Hi, boys.

♪ You bitch ♪

So what do you think? Pre or post-op?

Check, check. One, two.

What?

Dude, there's a whole gaggle

of female impersonators everywhere.

And that won't even draw your eyes off of her.

You must really like this girl, huh?

You like her, you like her!

What's not to like?

Amy's performing at my birthday party.

And then later I'm getting my birthday present.

Right, which, knowing you,

you'll find a way to nothave sex.

What's up, what's up?

Welcome to the Max Bash, party people!

Yeah!

We are Thunderstorm of Blood.

Formerly known as The Tamponics.

This one goes out to my birthday boy.

Correction, my birthday man.

RJ Berger.

This one is called Puking Snake.

One, two, three, four!

♪ This ain't no zoo, baby ♪

♪ This ain't no zoo ♪

♪ What's a girl to do, baby ♪

♪ With a snake like you ♪

♪ You got me nervous, baby ♪

♪ About to break ♪

♪ I gotta lose that ♪

♪ That puking snake ♪

♪ Happy birthday ♪

♪ Max, you suck ♪

This dress makes me look like Rosie O'Donnell.

Can we just hurry up and get this over with?

Chill, babe. Timing's everything.

Remember, everybody, extreme loser torture.

Freakin' absolute destruction.

But you leave Berger for me.

And then we're going home.

For chili.

♪ Don't mess with the sink ♪

♪ Don't play with the knobs ♪

♪ Just get in the stall ♪

Whoo! Oh!

Nice shot! You busted his knee and tore his sack.

Whoo! Next?

♪ I'm a back to front wiper ♪

♪ A back to front wiper ♪

Thank you, thank you. That little ditty

was called Back to Front Wiper.

- Whoo! - So now you've heard

two of our three songs.

But before we play you our finale,

I'd like to invite the patron saint

of Max-bashing to the stage!

RJ!

Here's to you, RJ Berger. You manned up.

RJ, RJ, RJ, RJ!

You know what happens later.

Thank you, Amy. I would like to

say a few words about my son, RJ.

Oh, great. Gosh, I still remember

the night that he was conceived.

16 years and 9 months ago.

- All right, Dad. Thank you. - It was amazing.

- Aw! - Suzanne and I

were in the back of a station wagon.

I'd forgotten my condoms.

Went raw, dog!

And that's how RJ, uh...

well, and there she is, folks.

My wife, Suzanne Berger.

Mom?

With another man.

But she is RJ's mother,

And, Suzanne, would you like to come up here

and say a few words about your son?

There you go, honey.

Thank you everyone for being here,

thank you so much.

I remember the night that Rick was talking about.

And it was magical.

- Explosive, even. - Okay, Mom, thank you.

We'd been experimenting with tantric orgasm.

Thank you for sharing.

Let the real Max-bashing begin!

My wife!

Suzanne. Let's roll.

Thank you. Thank you, Rick.

You're dead, birthday boy.

I'm not a boy.

- Come on, RJ, hurrry up. - No!

I've had enough of this! What did you call me?

I called you birthday boy!

What is your problem!?

You've been picking on me for 16 years.

I'm tired of it, it ends tonight.

It ends when I say it ends.

Do you see all these people?

Staring at you?

They are all here tonight

because they hate you.

Because you're a bully and a [bleep]hole!

That's enough, Max!

Not in our parking lot, bitch!

Yeah! If anybody's gonna be pounding

high school boys around here, it's us.

This is not over, Berger.

I ruined your party, I ruined your birthday.

And the next time I see you,

I'm gonna ruin the rest of your life.

Back off.

You're dead.

- Come on, girls, thank you. - Thanks.

- Are you okay? - Yeah, actually I am.

Oh, my God, you got egg on your face.

- I'm so sorry. - It's okay, are you kidding me?

I got eggs thrown at me at my first show,

it's like I'm in a real band.

It was fun. While it lasted.

Fun's not over yet.

There's still my birthday present.

Oh, that was intense.

Happy birthday, RJ.

Amy...

Shut up and blow out your candles.

You make a wish?

Yup.

Did it come true?

It's about to.

♪ I know this is starting to be undeniable ♪

♪ And I know this baby's starting to feel ♪

♪ Like a little bit of you and me ♪

Do you have any condoms?

That is my favorite question.

And the answer is yes.

♪ Starting to be something incredible ♪

♪ Listen to me, this is the sound of falling in love ♪

♪ Can you feel it can you feel it ♪

♪ This is the sound of a beat in your heart ♪

♪ Can you feel it, don't you feel it now? ♪

Wow, it's true.

You really are RJ Berger.

♪ This is the sound of... ♪

♪ I don't know, I don't know, don't you feel it now? ♪

♪ And they say, I know this may be starting to seem ♪

Oh, no. I'm so sorry.

Oh, my God... oh!

Why?!

♪ I see this is starting to be ♪

♪ This is the sound of falling in love ♪

♪ Can you feel it? Can you feel it? ♪

♪ This is the sound of a beat in your heart ♪

♪ Can you feel it? Can you feel it? ♪

After my stomach stops tingling

we're totally doing that again.

Evening, Berger. Amy.

Coach, what are you doing?

Take it easy! Just getting a couple of towels.

Clean your mama up.

My name is RJ Berger.

And not even that can ruin this birthday.

Next on The Hard Times of RJ Berger...

Vote Max and Robin!

Vote the non-douchebag party!

What the hell? Why is my name on this with Jenny?

- You got nominated. - One minute you tell me

you love me and the next you're running

in some stupid competition with your ex?

I have some exciting news.

Is Dad moving in?

- Ta-da! - Holy Jeribus!

That's my boy!