All language subtitles for s09e14_-_undressed_for_success

Hey. Hey.

Hi, so how was house hunting?

Well, we've narrowed it down to these
four.

Actually, we've really narrowed it down
to this one.

It was tough because we like all four.

Now, this cape card is concrete
reinforced with a finished basement.

Big deal.

This one has a blue tile kitchen.

This one has a second fireplace in the
bedroom.

A cobalt blue tile kitchen.

A house in the suburbs. Boy, I envy you.
The thought of sending little Charlie to

school in the city really frightened me.

Well, I'm a product of the city school
system.

Be afraid.

Did I mention this house has ceramic,
cobalt blue tile, and bunny wallpaper?

Did I mention that this other house has
a two-car garage and another bedroom all

at the same price?

Did I mention that if we don't get the
house with the blue tile, you're going

to need that extra bedroom, Mac
Robinson?

You've really got your heart set on this
one, don't you?

Well, I do kind of like the tile.

Okay, I give you one. Let's call the
realtor and make an offer.

Do you mean it, Mac?

Last one to the phone has to insulate
the attic.

Baby, you're the greatest. Oh, yeah.

when I was a kid. My mom and I, we
painted 437 bunny faces on my bedroom

walls.

Wow, that sounds like a lot of work.

Oh, not really. All you need is a gallon
of paint and a bunny.

Hi, Roz. Why the long face?

Just came back from the bank.

You know, they can approve your
million-dollar loan in three minutes,

but you have to wait a year to rent a
safe deposit box.

Roz, I've got a safe deposit box I'd be
willing to go halfsies on.

All I keep inside is my will, my
passport, and the first drafts of all my

letters to Penthouse.

Thanks, but no thanks.

The things I want to store are kind of
personal.

What, are you saying you don't trust me?
You think I would snoop through your

valuables?

Yes.

And yes.

Oh, isn't that great?

Anybody else around here doesn't trust
me?

Call it, Matt.

People versus Dawson.

Petty theft.

Mr. Prosecutor. Yes, sir. Mr. Dawson is
accused of robbing a liquor store on 9th

Avenue. Your Honor, my client pleads not
guilty. He claims he was at his ice

dancing class at the time.

I thought he looked familiar.

After several weeks of finding money
missing, the owner, as a last resort,

had the cash register rigged.

As in booby-trapped?

Precisely, sir. Apparently tired of the
weekly unauthorized withdrawals, the...

owner rigged a cash register with a dye
pack that sprays the perpetrator's face

with a glow-in-the-dark mist. Max, would
you do the honors?

Your Honor, we'd like to change our plea
to guilty.

Held over.

Let's take five.

Well, bad news from Wanda.

Things not going well on the honeymoon?

It seems Bull locked his keys in the
car.

So? He can't get out.

I'll be right back. I'm going to take
this evidence down to the property. You

know what, Ross? I'm going that way.
I'll take it for you. Oh, no. Wait a

minute. What am I thinking? You couldn't
possibly trust me with something so

valuable.

Dan, are you still all bent out of shape
about that safe deposit box thing?

Bent out of shape? Try devastated.

Dan, it's not that I don't trust you.

It's that I don't trust you.

Give me that. Oh, well, fine.

I will remember that next time you ask
me to do you a favor.

I've never asked you to do me a favor.
All right, then I'll remember that next

time I ask you to do me a favor, missy.

And you can forget about loaning me that
five bucks for lunch!

Excuse me, uh, Mr. Robinson?

Yeah.

Fred DeVille.

I'm a talent scout working on a new ad
campaign for royal wear underwear.

Royal wear?

Yes, underwear fit for a king but priced
for a peasant.

Oh, yeah, I've seen those ads. Well,
that's the whole idea. Now I can see

that you're busy, so I'll be brief.

Sorry, shop humor. Anyway, the gist of
our new campaign is to capture guys like

yourself modeling royal wear.

You want to take pictures of me in my
underwear?

No, no, no.

Our underwear?

I don't think so.

You don't understand. These aren't just
pictures. This is a $5 million ad

campaign designed to show regular guys
doing their regular jobs. We've already

shot a construction worker, a taxi cab
driver, a fireman, and a brain surgeon.

The close-ups in that one were a dismal
failure.

Excuse me, did I hear you right? You
want Matt to pose in his underwear?

Absolutely. I'm what's known in the
industry as a part specialist.

And this man is a work of art.

Me?

A Botticelli of body parts.

Mac is a work of art?

That's the silliest thing I ever heard.

No offense, Mac.

Offense taken, sir.

Believe me, Judge, I'm never wrong.
Companies hire me to find perfect body

parts for their ads. Maybe you've seen
the drips a lot, nasal spray commercial.

I discovered that nose.

I've seen that nose.

That nose makes $1,000 a week.

$1,000 a week?

That's $500 a nostril.

That's nothing compared to the $35,000
you could get for posing in our

underwear. $35,000?

That's $17,500 a cheek.

Look, I appreciate the offer, but I'm
going to have to think about it.

You're right.

I guess I caught you with your pants
down.

Sorry.

Here's my card.

Call me when you've made a decision.

A thousand bucks a week. I wonder if my
nose has what it takes to be in show

business.

Why not?

It's been in everybody else's business.

No offense.

So the guy says Mac has the right build,
and he asks him to pose for this ad.

I love royal wear.

Especially the barely there collection.

dinosaur designs, it brings out the
caveman in them.

Of course, so do fried foods.

Well, hi, guys. Hey.

Aren't we full of ourselves?

What? You think you're so high and
mighty just because some fast talker

wants you to parade around in your
underwear.

It's killing you, isn't it? That
obvious.

I think the whole thing is degrading. I,
for one, have no interest in seeing a

man in his underwear.

Is that so?

Yes. I'm much more impressed with what's
inside.

Is that so?

What I meant to say is I'm much more
impressed with what's in here.

Me too. Let's have a look.

Don't forget to weigh out the pros and
the cons.

I mean, on the pro side, sure, you've
got, you know, your 15 minutes in the

spotlight and that great ego boost, but
then there is the con side.

Which is?

Nothing is worth jeopardizing your
career, Mac. Not even for $35,000.

$35,000?

Take the job, man.

Money isn't everything.

What about your integrity?

I kind of enjoy having it. Oh, please.

Look, come on. This job is not going to
hurt you. Look at all those athletes

hawking underwear on television.

It hasn't hurt them or their bank
accounts either.

Let me get this straight.

All of you think I shouldn't do the ad.

Right. And Dan, you're saying I should.

Absolutely. Dan, you've convinced me.

I'm not doing it.

What the hell?

What? Wait a minute. What?

Fantastic. Oh, that's great.

Nobody trusts me or my judgment. Is
there anything else?

Your socks don't match.

Oh, oh, Roger, just in time for some dad
bashing. Come on, take your best shot.

Your socks don't match.

Is the offer to share your safe deposit
back still open?

Oh, you don't trust me, remember?

Okay, Dan, I'm sorry about what I said
to you. Uh, come again?

I said I was sorry once. The only way
I'll say it again is if your face is

under one of my cleats. Okay.

But now the rent's doubled.

Deal.

Is that it?

That's it.

What is it? None of your business.

And it better stay that way.

The eternally trustworthy Dan Fielding
is at your service, ma'am.

Yeah, well, he better be at the bank in
the morning, or he'll be the internally

bleeding Dan Fielding.

So what do you think it is?

Maybe it's one of her antique grenades.

I can't do it.

No. But, uh, thanks for considering me,
Mr. DeVille, and, uh, hey, good luck on

the ad campaign.

Okay. All righty.

Bye-bye.

Mac?

Quandy, what's wrong?

The realtor called.

There's been a counteroffer on our
house, and if we don't match it by

tomorrow... Some strange family will be
scuffing up our blue tile.

Oh, I'm sorry, Kwan Lee, but hey, we
went as high as we can go.

Maybe you could sell your car.

You like the bus.

Kwan Lee!

I'm just trying to think on my feet.

Oh, Mac, we can't lose my dream house.
Oh, there'll be another dream house, I

promise.

It just isn't fair.

Quan Li, it's not the end of the world.

It is for me.

This is one of my darkest hours.

I can only hope little Renee won't be
scarred for life by her mommy's deep

depression.

Have a nice day.

Mr. DeVille?

Yeah, Mack Robinson.

Are we talking boxer shorts or bikini
briefs?

Alive. Alive!

Yeah. Hi, Harry. Could I use your office
for a minute?

Sure, come on in. Thanks.

Uh, this is Susan Daly from Royal Wear.

That's, uh, Judge Stone.

Miss Daly? A pleasure. Could you clear
out? We have work to do.

You mind, Harry? I need some place for
my audition.

The underwear audition?

Yeah. I thought you turned them down.
Well, I got to thinking about it and

decided it was too much money to pass
up. No time for chit-chat, boys. Let's

shed the shirt and check the pics.

Oh, Miss Daly, I'm sorry. I'm not really
sure that I can condone... Whoa, man!

Where'd you get that body?

Nine years of lifting all those heavy
files, sir.

I knew it. Can I spot him or what? I
should have these eyeballs insured.

DeVille, I should give you a raise. I
won't, but I should.

So, Harry, you want to join us for
dinner?

Yeah, we're going out for chest burgers.

How did Mac's head get on that body?

Well, Mac, you're quite a... man.

What did you think I was?

Well, not quite so much of one.

I've always thought of you as good old
Mac, not big old Mac.

You better get used to the attention,
Mr. Robinson. This is only the

beginning. Welcome to the Royal Ware
family.

Mimo to advertising. Get a set of the
Robinson proofs on my desk ASAP.

And we're going to need to airbrush the
hairline.

Say what?

Don't worry. You're going to be great.
We'll meet you in the courtroom tonight

after session.

I'll be here.

Excuse me.

We're working on another ad campaign,
and I think you would be just perfect

for it.

Oh, really?

Mm-hmm.

I suppose you think that women all over
the city are just dying to pull off

their clothes, those sleazy Madison
Avenue types like you can sell a few

bras. Well, I, for one, am not going to
sink to your level, gutter eyes.

Actually, gutter eyes was looking for a
sensitive working mother to be in a baby

food commercial.

I guess I can't be right all the time.

Wait, I was just acting.

I can do sensitive, too.

Fifty-five dollars in time, sir. And
that's it for tonight. Thank you for

shopping at Harry's.

Pump those files, Mac.

Knock it off, Your Honor.

Well, Mac, you're about to join the
elite group that have made underwear

history. I didn't even know there was
underwear history.

Ever ask yourself what Neil Armstrong
was wearing under his spacesuit?

Lunar bloomers.

Small step for man, one giant leap for
royal wear.

Wow. So, are you ready for your date
with destiny?

Uh, not yet. I've got some paperwork to
finish up first.

Well, there's no rush. We'll just start
setting up the light.

Oh, and here's your costume.

And don't worry, we've got heat lamps.

So, why are you still hanging around
here?

Polish and buff my steno keys.

How about you?

I'm here to watch Mac dance around in
his undies.

Okay, me too.

Oh, I almost forgot.

Would you save my seat? I'm gonna go get
some dollar bills.

Congratulations. You've just given me
the heart rate of a horny hummingbird.

That wouldn't by any chance be Roz's
package that she asked you to put in the

bank?

Maybe.

Dan, how could you? Roz trusted you not
to open that.

I didn't open it.

Oh, well, I did fake a rib injury so I
could get an x-ray at the hospital, but

I didn't open it.

Dan, what's in that box is none of your
business. It is driving me crazy,

Christine. I even took it to a fortune
teller.

Twenty dollars to hear something trivial
about a loved one in danger.

Dan! What? Oh, okay, okay, please. Just
stop looking at me like little orphan

Annie, huh?

I'm going to go and put it in my safe
deposit box.

Promise? I promise.

As soon as we take just a few trips
through the metal detector at the

airport.

Hey.

Nice robe.

Want a swap?

Harry, what have I gotten myself into?

Looks like something about four sizes
too small.

I feel like such an idiot.

What am I doing parading around in my
shorts?

Well, Mac, I know there must be a good
reason or you wouldn't be going through

with it. I need the money so I can buy
Kwan Lee's dream house.

That's what changed your mind, huh?
Yeah.

I must really love that woman because
there's no other reason I'd be putting

myself through this kind of humiliation.

Well, Mac, I think that's very noble.

If the ends justify the means. Oh, I
don't know, Harry. What could be more

degrading than this?

How about being a gawky 17-year-old kid
who shaved his legs to get on the swim

team?

What's so humiliating about that?

I only made towel boy.

Well, at least you had a towel.

I'm going to be out there two cheeks to
the wind.

What does Kwan Lee think about it? I
haven't told her yet. You haven't told

her? No.

Mac, aren't you the one who's always
telling me how important communication

is in a marriage? Uh-uh. Uh-uh, not this
time. No, she wouldn't understand.

She is so old-fashioned, she still
thinks the microwave is the devil's

instrument.

So is she going to understand when she
sees her husband's butt plastered on the

side of a bus?

By that time, we'll be in the suburbs in
our blue-tile dream house, sipping

lemonade and counting bunnies on the
wall.

Max, if this makes you uncomfortable,
and you know that it's going to make her

uncomfortable... Then don't you already
have your answer? Yeah, yeah. Are you

right? I cannot sink that low.

Thanks,

Harry.

You know, you know, I can always count
on you to help me to stand up for what I

believe in.

Even if it means losing thousands of
dollars, a dream house, and probably my

wife.

Hey, pal, that's what I'm here for.

Oh, Quan Lee, I'm glad you're here.

There was something I was going to do. I
decided it wasn't right, so I changed my

mind. Mac, stop rambling. Sit down and
listen. I have something important to

tell you.

What is it?

I figured out a way I can get us the
extra money.

You going to get a part-time job?

No, nothing that radical.

I've decided to be a surrogate mother.

What?

I talked to a lawyer, and he said we
could get $20,000.

$30,000 for twins.

Isn't that wonderful?

Kwanda, you can't do that.

I'm not saying it'll be easy, but it'll
be worth every horrible, swollen moment.

Oh, my God.

I am a desperate woman, Mac.

I am willing to do whatever it takes to
get that house for the three of us.

And Mr. Lansky's twins.

I guess you are.

Then so am I.

Kwan Lee, I want you to go home and
start packing. That blue towel house is

going to be ours tomorrow.

You mean it?

How? Well, that's what I've been trying
to tell you. It's all been taken care

of. Now, you just trust me.

I love you, Mack Robinson.

And I love you too, Kwan Lee.

What's with the robe?

Royal Ware wants me to...

Pose for some pictures in my underwear.

You?

You know, after all these years, you can
still make me laugh.

See you later.

I'm

ready for

my close-up, Mr. DeVille.

Here's the key to the safety deposit
box.

Gotta go. Bye-bye.

You didn't open my package and look
inside, did you?

Ross, give me a little credit, will you?

Hit it, Christine.

Anybody else hot in here?