Original subtitles

-So, it's a bank? -Yes.

But deposit is your son spunk.

Then bank give you money.

-What?! They'll pay me for my sweet Pete cream?

How much?

-Loads. And we split profits, 80/20.

[ Bonaparte's "May the Best Sperm Wins" plays ]

-♪ May the best sperm win ♪

♪ May the best sperm win ♪

♪ May the best sperm win ♪

♪ May the best sperm win ♪

-Why are we at a sperm bank, Uncle Pete?

-Well, Annie, some men are meant to be fathers.

But me? I'm an uncle.

So I gotta get rid of all my useless sperm somehow!

-But you said you wanted to spend the day

bonding with me over baseball!

Oh! Not bonding with yourself.

Couldn't you do this another time?

-It was on the way, Annie.

This is me being practical here.

-I'll wait in the car.

-You don't want to see how the sausage is made?

Huh? -Um, you know, that would be

outrageously inappropriate.

-Oh. Gotcha.

See? Not father material!

I'll take pictures.

[ Baby cries ]

-♪ I'm not as crazy as I used to be ♪

♪ Some of my devils up and left me free ♪

♪ To find a quiet space ♪

♪ I'm not as out of place ♪

♪ And I'm coming home again ♪

♪ It's been too long a time ♪

♪ Gettin' back what's mine ♪

♪ And I can't remember why I went away ♪

♪ But it's lookin' now like maybe ♪

♪ I can stay ♪

Is that any good?

♪♪

-You really think all this is --

[ Grunts ] -- necessary, Uncle Pete?

-If you get injured, what kind of uncle would I be?

-Oh. Huh. -See?

-When you're right, you're right!

-Wow! You guys are amazing.

Are you a Major League team?

-Naw, man, we're just kids.

And we can't even afford shirts!

-We've never gotten to play a real game, though.

-We'd need someone to be our coach.

-And no one's gonna take a chance

on shirtless kids like us.

[ Sighs ]

See you later, mister.

-Those kids look like they could really use an uncle.

-Wait! Maybe you could be their coach, Uncle Pete.

-What? -What'd she say?

-Oh, boy! -And I can join the team!

That way, we can get in even more uncle-niece bonding time.

-Oh, I'd love to, Annie, but if I remember correctly,

you have to be a father of one of the kids.

-No, Mister, that's the old rule.

Now it can be anyone.

Even pedophiles!

-Oh! Well, if that's the case...

call me Coach Pete.

You boys ready to win?! -Let's go!

-Now we're talking baseball! -Yay!

-Whoa! -Here, slugger -- catch!

-Ugh! -Whoa!

-[ Spits ] -[ Grunts ]

-Welcome, grieving singles!

As funeral home owner,

Baba know it not easy being widow, widower,

or poly-widow-ous.

So tonight is chance for Tender Endings

clients to find new relationship

with other heartbroken individuals.

Who knows?

Maybe you die first this time around!

-That would be nice.

-Okay, grievers, start the mingle!

[ Rolls tongue ]

-And then I found out my blood pressure is high

because of genetics and diet.

-Just like my Marjorie.

-I agreed to play butler at this dinosaur museum

because you said there were rich dudes.

But you know I'm a gold-digger not an old-digger!

-You catch well-to-do man here.

Just -- just try not act like desperate half-dead woman.

-Half-dead?

Does that mean you'll be... dying soon?

I'm Reginald Val Johnstone.

And you are absolutely gorgeous.

Mwah. [ Chuckles ]

Enchanté.

I couldn't help but notice you from across the room.

Your beauty is casket-worthy.

Where you been hiding her, Baba?

-Oh, this my submissive daughter Trophy,

who love to cook and keep house.

She single and ready to marry for all the right reasons.

-You're a widower?

-Sadly, yes.

All the money in the world --

and I have a lot of it --

[ Laughs ] --

couldn't save me from the heartache of losing a loved one.

-Really?! [ Tray, glasses crashing ]

So tell me more about this money,

whatever that is.

What do you like to do with it?

-My vice is spoiling the woman I love.

Trophy, I need to know everything about you.

How about we get to know each other better over dinner?

Have you been to O'Shaunesseys?

-Fort Gator's most expensive Irish pub?

The waitlist is in the thousands!

-Not if you're the owner.

[ Chuckles ] Ooh!

[ Glasses clink ] -Oh!

♪♪

-You'll never believe what happened!

So Uncle Pete and I found a stray baseball team,

and I'm gonna join it and play!

-And I'm gonna be their coach! -What?!

Absolutely not!

Being uncle to non-athletic niece

should be enough recreation for you.

Remember why you had to quit tee-ball as child, Peter?

-'Cause I was too good.

-Uh, yes...that.

And being on baseball team make you forget all about Baba!

-Well, you could come to our games.

-Baba single mother with funeral home to run.

Have no time for nine innings.

Maybe two. Family first.

-But family's why we want to baseball!

Uncle Pete and I need more wholesome activities

to do together besides trips

to the crematorium and the sperm bank.

Please, Baba, please! -Please, please! Please!

-Fine! But, Peter, do not get

overstimulated by competition and neglect niece.

Now, out of kitchen. -Yes!

-When Baba do dishes, Baba need complete silence.

[ Water running ]

♪♪

-So I told her, "Why would I make a reservation...

when I can just buy the resort?"

[ Both laugh ]

Should we head back to my place?

I have a fully stocked bar and a barometric chamber,

if you're into that.

[ Ominous music plays ]

-Exactly how many dead wives do you have?

-The heart wants what it wants.

And mine wants to fall madly in love

with terminally ill women, marry them,

then repeat the cycle when they die.

Think about it. I'm lonely, rich, horny,

and simply dreadful in long-term relationships.

And you're terminally ill.

-Terminally ill?

-How long do you have left?

Weeks? Days?

Are those cockroaches on your thigh?

I've never been with a woman

who is literally decaying before my eyes.

Oh, Trophy.

Think of me as your personal Make-A-Wish Foundation

that runs on sexual favors.

-That's what I've been doing!

♪♪

-Surprise!

Real baseball jerseys!

Okay. We got Jorden, and... -Oh, boy!

-...Jorden? Oh, no.

They messed up and printed the same name on all of them!

-It's not a mistake.

We all have the same last name!

We're brothers. -Wow.

I'd love to meet your parents someday, boys.

They must have had so much sex.

-We've got different dads.

But they died.

And our mom... is in prison.

For murder.

-Aah! [ Whimpers ]

-She's not a bad person. She just...

kills to get out of things she doesn't want to do.

-Like our parent-teacher conferences.

-And dentist appointments.

-And her marriages.

-Really? Tell ya what.

Let's call this first play "Gettin' Away With Murder,"

in honor of your mom.

Whenever you're on a base,

just run to the next base without getting caught!

-Uh, isn't that just stealing?

-Haha, yep!

-Since I can't catch, thanks for letting me pitch.

You're the best, Uncle Pete!

♪♪

-Finally, you home!

Annie and Pete are all baseballers now.

Baba need help with the dead. How was date?

-I mean, Reginald is rich and handsome and rich and all,

but what's the deal with the sickly wives?

He have Dickhausen by Pricksy or something?

-He loving husband.

Pay for six platinum packages.

How you think I afford finishing school for Goat?

[ Goat bleats ]

-I just hope he doesn't try to kill me or anything.

-Trophy, you are undead corpse who cannot die!

Don't make attempted-murder mountain

out of attempted-murder molehill.

Now earn keep and help Baba shave corpses.

-Sorry, Baba.

Reginald's limo is waiting for me out front.

Don't wait up!

-Baba don't know what she hate more.

Sex or baseball.

♪♪

-Y'all ready to go ham on these turkeys?

-Yeah! -Whoo!

-Let's go, Cadavers!

[ Bat strikes ball ]

[ Ding! ]

-Ugh! -Oh, man...

-Coach Pete, why did you have to let

Annie pitch every inning?

-Because I thought being a good uncle

was more important than being a good coach.

But now I'm beginning to rethink that!

-The other team just looked so much happier

when I threw the ball nice and slow.

I think we really made some new friends today.

Who's with me, Cadavers?! [ Players sigh ]

-Well, you know, Annie, they say there's no "I" in team.

But come to think of it, there's no "Annie," either.

Buck up, boys! We'll get 'em next time.

-That's okay, Coach Pete, you don't have to pretend

that you're gonna keep coaching us.

-What? Why would you say that, my man?

-Because we lost.

And when you're bad, people leave you.

-Look, I think we'll play better

if we shift up some of the positions.

Now...hmm, hmm.

Okay. Annie, instead of playing in the next game,

you will not play in the next game.

Everyone else, no notes!

-Annie's off the team! -Whoo-hoo!

-Now let's shake this off by getting some ice cream.

-Yeah! -What's ice cream?

-Only if it's vegan and cruelty-free, right?

Right, guys? -Ah, geez, sorry, Annie.

The ice cream is kind of my way of making it up to the team

for ever letting you play in the first place.

Wouldja mind hanging back and cleaning up all the equipment?

I think the bus will let you on with all that stuff.

-What? Remember what Baba said!

Baseball bad, uncle-niece bonding good.

Is winning that important? -Yes.

We can get back to bonding in the off-season.

Hey! Wait up for Uncle Coach!

-I wish they made uncles cruelty-free.

♪♪

-And over here is the sitting room,

and over there is the standing room.

-And where's the kneeling room?

-If you need to lie down, this is the bedroom.

[ Women vocalizing ]

[ Off-key note hits ]

-Are you sure you didn't murder them?

-Oh, of course not.

I even have a little rhyme that helps me remember --

cancer, heart failure, diabetes, Cancer, MS, "meningeetees."

By the way, what do you have?

-Oh, um...rabies.

Ahh!

Gosh, I guess I'm a little l-lightheaded.

Maybe the virus has finally reached my brain...

or maybe it's being by your side that's making me weak.

[ Both moaning passionately ]

-Annie, back so soon?

Peter said he take team for Fro-Yo.

-I wasn't invited. Apparently I can't "catch"

or "throw" or "hit" or "run."

-But whole point of ball team was uncle-niece bond!

-Well, not anymore, I guess!

-Baba cheer you up.

There turnip sorbet in corpse freezer.

-The only thing that would make me feel better

is teaching Pete a revenge-driven lesson...

by -- [ Gasps ] -- by coaching a baseball team

of our own to victory

against Pete's team at the championship!

-Mm! It time to beat Peter at his own disgusting game.

We go to sperm bank. -God, no!

I've already seen the pictures.

-Fort Gator Sperm Bank.

This Peter Fantasy mother.

Baba wondering if you know any fatherless children

in need of structure, mentoring and base-balling.

You do?

Baba hold.

♪♪

-This ice cream is real good.

Maybe we should lose more often!

[ Laughter ]

-Wait! No! Losing is BAD!

Did I send the wrong message with the ice cream?

I'm still getting used to this!

-Naw, Coach Pete.

How 'd you get to be such a good coach?

-I dunno. Maybe it's because I played

a little ball myself back in the day...

mostly Tee-Ball.

I bet I could've gone pro if I had a dad

to practice with.

-Being a coach is kinda like being a dad.

-Yeah, I guess there are a lot of similarities--

-Yo, imagine if Pete married our mom!

-We would all live together

and run plays over breakfast and stuff!

-Coach Dad! Coach Dad!

Coach Dad! Coach Dad!

-All right, settle down.

As much as I'd love that...

Your mother's in prison.

And I'd say I'm more dad-adjacent.

-What does that mean? Well, responsibility

isn't really an uncle's strong suit.

They don't call me "Low-Stakes Pete"

just because I eat meat off the floor.

-I think you're mad responsible.

-Maybe, Knuckles, but here's the thing --

uncles are way better than dads.

And, guys, I'm not just any ol' uncle.

I'm the uncle-hyphenate-coach that's gonna take you

all the way to the championships!

You got that?!

-Yay! -Let's go!

[ "Charge" plays ]

-And there it is, the Cadavers have completely bodied

the Whear and Associates Split Custodies.

Looks like this team'll be saving those tears

for every other weekend.

And that ball is gone!

The Cadavers are headed to the championships!

And what's that?

There's another upstart team no one believed in

that's tearing their way up the standings, too!

The underdog Sperm Bank Sweet Creamers

have managed to win every game

thanks to some out-of-the-box coaching

as well as blatant cheating.

These plucky teams simply cannot be stopped!

Oh! You know what else can't be stopped

is the growing sexual tension between Trophy Fantasy

and Reginald Val Johnstone.

And here we go.

It's the wind up, and the pitch!

Oh! It's a 24-carat diamond necklace!

Right down the middle!

Boy, oh, boy.

What's gonna happen when these two teams

and this lovesick couple

come head-to-head at the championship game?

-My family has kept me from being a winner my whole life.

But now, we've become a family of winners!

You're like the nephews I wish I had,

with the muscles that I've always wanted.

Now Baseball. Baseball.

Baseball!

Hands in! -Cadavers!

-Life about two things, boys.

Family loyalty and revenge!

Your sperm donor abandon you.

So let Sperm Annie be fire you need under ass, okay?

Also, Baba will give each player peck on cheek if win.

-Should we do a "hands in" thing?

Uncle Pete used to do that before every game.

-No, no. I not know when they last wash hands.

Baseball teams very dirty.

-It's two all-star teams with creepy names and big dreams.

-Why does that team look so familiar?

Have we played them before?

-Nah. But they don't look so tough, right, Coach Pete?

-They look so cool.

-Hello, Peter. -Baba?!

-Hello, Uncle Pete.

-Annie, too?! How could you?

-Since you abandoned me first.

Think of it as a triple fudge

double crossing with sprinkles on top.

My new favorite flavor.

-Annie, I didn't leave you behind.

I threw you under the bus.

There's a difference!

-Best revenge is beat you and your team

of fake baseball children

with team of your real balls-ball children.

-You mean the Creamers are my --

-All right, coaches, shake hands.

-Maybe next time you want to shirk uncle and son duties,

think twice.

Today, your sad-sack ejac strikes back, Flapjack.

-And now to throw out the first pitch.

Take your shirt off for Florida's governor --

Lil' Flor-Ida!

-I'm happy to announce that I will be fulfilling

the wish of today's winning team!

For the Tender Endings Cadavers, we have...

your mama, here all the way from Fort Gator

Penitentiary's Death Row!

-Mama! -She got a new muzzle!

-If the Cadavers win, she'll be released for the evening

to marry the coach of the Cadavers

so he can become their new daddy!

-Aww! -Don't look so worried,

Coach Pete! I mean, Daddy Pete!

We're gonna win!

-For the Fort Gator Sperm Bank Sweet Creamers,

they pleadingly request to meet their sperm-donor fathers.

-Aww, ain't that nice?

-Aww!

-I, uh, certainly hope they find him...

I mean, them! It can't just be one guy, okay?

Okay?! -You get a daddy!

You get a daddy!

I want a daddy!

Play ball!

[ Cheers and applause ]

-I've never dated anyone who owns a ballpark.

-Well, I know the time is of the essence with us,

my dearest dying Trophy.

So I didn't just bring you here for baseball...

-Ooh, yeah.

Hi!

-I think there's a little surprise for you

in the stands... over there!

-Oh, Reginald!

That thing is huge!

-Yes. Huge.

Like my love for you.

Till death do us part.

-Gah!

Oh, Reginald, I think I actually do love you.

[ Laughs ]

-Yeah! -Congratulations!

-Ugh! Tacky way to propose.

Do it at Disney like a man!

-And it's all tied up!

Looks like Coach Pete is calling for another time-out...

Could this be some sort of strategy to prolong the game?

-What gives, Uncle Coach Daddy Pete?

-Huddle up! Take a knee, fellas.

I'll be honest. I was a little worried about

the outcome of the game.

-'Cause you think we might lose?

-No, because you're probably going to win,

which means your mom will be free to marry then murder me.

But at the end of the day, it's winning I care about.

So I've decided. When we win,

I'll marry your mom and become your legal dad!

-Do you really mean it, Coach Daddy?

-I do. -[ Laughs ]

-This game made me ask myself...

if I were gonna be a dad...

who would I want to be a dad to?

A bunch of mini-me sperm store, DNA Kleenex jockeys?

Or a team of incredibly muscular kids

who look great with or without their shirts on?

I love your hustle, I love your drive.

I love that when I look in your eyes,

I don't see a mirror of existential self-reflection.

-Yeah! -Us too, Mr. Daddy!

-Can we just play? -Cadavers on 3!

1, 2, 3!

-Cadavers!

-[ Slurps ]

Now that we're engaged,

I think there's something I need to tell you.

-Go ahead, my perishing bride-to-be.

Nothing you say could make me love you less.

-Reginald, I don't have rabies.

I've been faking it.

But only because I love you,

and I find your money absolutely fascinating.

-You're not dying?!

-I actually can't die. Because I'm undead.

But not like a vampire.

More like Styrofoam in the way it can't decompose!

-I never realized it until this very moment...

but it's not the death I fetishize.

It's the taking care of you until you die that I love.

You're the perfect woman, Trophy.

Deathly but not dead.

[ Both moaning passionately ]

Also, no biggie, but I have a daughter.

-Oooooh! Is she dying?

-No. -Oh.

Well, that truly does change everything.

I'm sorry, but the wedding's off.

I'm just not the father type. [ Helicopter blades whirring ]

-No! -Goodbye, my love.

-Goodbye!

-Hi! Name's Clive.

Did I hear wedding's off?

My kink is jilted brides.

Wanna rebound right into my...

-Bottom of the 9th, and it's anyone's game.

-[ Grunts ] -It's going...

it's going... and it's gone!

-Yes! All right! -The Cadavers have won the game!

And here comes their proud mama, now a free woman,

whatever that means in the state of Florida.

-Oh, wow. Here comes the bride!

I'm ready to marry you and be the coach/father

your kids n-- -Aah!

You made me sit all the way through

that boring baseball game!

-[ Choking ]

-Get your hands off me!

-Back to death row with you, mama.

-Excuse me.

Did I just overhear that you're on...

death row?

Reginald Val Johnstone.

Mwah!

Enchanté. -Well, hello.

[ Both moaning passionately ]

-Glad Trophy rebounded okay. [ Chuckles ]

Did your team leave already?

-It was revenge team. Baba no care.

Baba say goodbye, no problem.

Plus, they have early bedtimes.

-Annie, I'm sorry I chose being a coach and sweet victory

over bonding time with you.

-I'd expect that kind of move from a father

but not an uncle. -You're right.

I really swallowed the ball on this one.

-It's okay, Uncle Pete.

Being disappointed comes easily to me.

Revenge, not so much.

-If only you could run. Or catch!

I mean, look how happy those kids are!

Those kids were always jacked on the outside.

But now their self-esteem is just as swole.

I really made a difference.

-I'd like to go home now.

-Let me just go say goodbye to the team.

-Great game, coach.

I'm a baseball scout, and I'd like to offer your entire team

a full scholarship to baseball school.

-Wow! -I can't believe it!

-What's a scholarship?

-That's very kind of you. -Once they graduate,

it's a direct pipeline to play in the MLL.

-The Major Little Leagues! -The Major Little Leagues!

-You're goddamn right, boys!

-This is an even better outcome than me marrying your mom.

Baseball scholarships come with way more benefits than dads do.

-We'll miss you, Coach Pete!

-Aww! [ Children sigh ]

-Don't forget about us!

-Give em' hell, Lil' Momo!

Welp, I'm going back to being a mortician,

but I hope I'm always remembered for playing with the Cadavers.

-♪ May the best sperm win ♪

♪ May the best sperm win ♪

♪ May the best sperm win ♪

♪ May the best sperm win ♪

♪♪

[ Ominous music plays ]

-We'll get him next time, right?

-Right? -Right?

-Right? -Right?

-Right? -Right?

-Right?