Original subtitles

So, what now?

Should we, I dunno, like, go all the way?

Really? Isn't your dad home?

Yeah, but he's been scared to come into my room

ever since I started wearing bras.

- So... - Okay. Yeah, I'm ready.

I mean, I showered and sprayed perfume on my pubes, so...

Oh, my God, so did I.

It kinda stings, right?

- Yep, little bit. - Shit!

You didn't see that.

I am smooth and sexual.

- Okay. - Okay.

- Here we go. Oh. - Oh!

- Did you... - Oh, were you gonna...

- You... You first. - No, you can.

Okay. Yeah.

- I'll go first. - Okay.

- Are you ready? - Yeah. Um... See you later.

Oh!

Wow, wow!

Fuck.

Hey, hey. Ho, ho.

- Ohh! - Wet-ass pussy here we go.

You got this, Nadja. Lose that v-card, baby!

Guys, I'm trying to lose my fuckin' innocence over here.

- Oh! Message received. - Ohh...

Isn't it amazing that they're going to college together next year?

Well, since she got wait-listed at Berkeley,

I guess Rutgers and Danielle will have to do.

Petra! Nadja and Danielle are in love. This is fate.

Eh. Sure, whatever.

- That was awesome. - Oh, yeah? Oh, thank God.

- I was kinda wingin' it down there. - How did you do that...

...thing?

Oh, I've been warming up my fingering hand using my mom's carpal tunnel ball.

And as for the oral,

I just spelled out the words "Austin Powers"

with my tongue over and over again.

I love you.

I love you too.

Do you promise to finger me every day at Rutgers?

Yeah, baby.

I gotta admit, I fucking love these two together.

You took the words outta my mouth.

- Is it my turn? - Okay.

I'll take it from here, ladies.

If I'm not back in 30 minutes, call the Coast Guard. Bombs away!

♪ That's just the way you make me feel ♪

♪ That's just the way you make me feel That's just the way you make me feel ♪

♪ So real, so good, so fuckin' real So real, so good, so fuckin' real ♪

♪ That's just the way you make me feel That's just the way you make me feel ♪

♪ It's like I'm powerful With a little bit of tender ♪

♪ An emotional, sexual bender ♪

♪ Mess me up, yeah But no one does it better ♪

♪ There's nothin' better ♪

♪ That's just the way you make me feel ♪

Whoo! We fucking killed it today.

Yeah, love and ambition working together.

Not unlike Danielle's tongue and her fingers...

God, I'm jealous of Nadja. I haven't gotten laid in about a century.

- Century? - Oh, my God. Has it been two?

Shit, girl, what's going on? Your snatch run away?

No, I'm just busy and everybody sucks.

Come on. There's gotta be somebody that gets your juices flowing.

Okay, there's someone. But it's so embarrassing.

Who you pointing at, girl? Gavin? Crazy ass Gavin?

Ahh!

I'm such a fuckin' man.

Yikes. A bit of a blunt instrument.

I wouldn't turn down his blunt instrument, if you know what I mean.

I wanna fuck him.

Been there. Go for it, bitch.

I gotta say, it's good to talk about this girly stuff with someone.

Well, we should do this more often, okay? You know I'm always down.

Yeah. To us.

To us. You know what, fuck it! Drinks on me!

I'll take two. One for my mouth, and one for my other mouth.

Shh! It's the same mouth. Whoa!

Damn. Sonya's been drunk ever since she got fired.

Yeah, yeah. Totally. Yeah.

- So... - So...

What else is new?

Since we had lunch together like four hours ago? Not much.

You, uh, reading anything right now?

- Ugh. I'm so bored of you, Connie. - Me, too. I'm tired of this shit.

Right? All we do is drink, talk about work,

then have inevitable, mind-blowing sex.

Exactly. I mean, where's the excitement?

I know every move you're gonna make, and I hate it.

Wait a second. Maybe what we need is to sleep with new creatures.

Oh, Connie, I... I'm sleeping with a lot of other creatures.

Was I not clear about that when I sent you videos and photos of it?

No, dumbass, I'm talking about role play.

Oh! Kinky sexy fuck-fuck with hats and costumes?

Yeah. It's community theater, but for sexually active people.

Alright, role-playing.

I wanna be someone brash and electrifying.

Ooh! Like Joan Rivers.

Ooh! And I'll be Melissa Rivers.

Nope. Nope. That crosses a line for me, let's do something else.

No, I'm telling you, girl, Petra is fun.

- I'm sorry. I don't believe you. - She is.

No one who carries that much tension in their neck could ever be, like, fun.

Okay, you trippin', 'cause she's a fucking riot.

Plus, guess who that psycho little peanut has a crush on.

- Oh, my God. Who? - Ga-vin.

- No. He's so scary. - Scary as hell.

But also I totally get it and I want him to rail me after he's done with her.

I will eat the sheets.

Rochelle, you're laughing. Tell me why.

Oh, we're just talking about who wants to fuck who in the office.

Ahh...

Fucking. It can be so fun, but also such a liability, right?

Whatever you say, Pete.

I should probably get back to my girl Nadja.

She's on prom court and we need an outfit.

Ooh! May I recommend red?

Anthropologists say it signifies a healthy vulva.

Jesus, Pete!

Thanks for the weird and unsolicited advice.

- Oh. - See you around.

Um... You're welcome.

And I'm sorry I said "vulva"! And I'm sorry I'm yelling it right now!

Man, my computer is being...

...so spinny today.

Don't hit it. Can I please take a look?

- Okay. But you're gonna have to... - ...enter at your own risk.

Okay, you clearly use your keyboard as a plate for many a croissant, and...

Oh, my God. You have 38,000 unread emails?

It's my system. I leave emails unread so that I remember to deal with them.

Mm-hm. And have you ever dealt with anything?

Uh... How about three unwanted pregnancies, bitch?

Okay, I'd rather you didn't call me bitch.

Sorry, yeah, you've mentioned that.

Ooh! Emmy, have you ever heard of Inbox Zero?

Oh, yeah! That's the name of the abortion clinic I go to.

No, Inbox Zero is an organizational philosophy.

Nay, a lifestyle.

And the best part is that it's rigorous and requires constant maintenance.

Uh, okay, puke. Sounds like something a logic rock would love.

I do. And I even have a little mantra, "A clean box is a happy box."

I know, I know, I'm sure they say the same thing at your clinic.

Pete, please don't talk about my abortions at work.

- Oh my God. I'm so sorry. - I'm just fucking with you.

Actually, I wouldn't mind talking about them.

I recently got ghosted by my therapist.

Oh, um... Okay.

Ooh! That's cute. It'll go great with Danielle's horny little dress. Ow!

And we better win goddamn Prom Queen!

Fuck Julia Rubenstein!

You know she's only in the running because her dad died.

Thank you, Petra.

I floated that in a group text and everyone got mad at me.

"Office of Admissions at Berkeley."

- Oh my God, this is about the wait list. - What do you care?

You're already going to Rutgers with the love of your life.

Hey, ho! Wap! Wap! Wap!

Shut your face! Berkeley's our dream school.

- I feel sick. - Open it or I'll kill you!

"We are pleased to offer you admission..." Oh, my God!

- You did it! - I got in!

Eat shit, everyone who ever fucking doubted us!

- I'm amazing! - Can you shut the fuck up?

I'm trying to see how many eggs I can fit in my mouth,

and you're ruining my focus.

- I got into Berkeley, bitch. - Holy shit! That's amazing!

- I am a fucking immortal genius! - You will never die!

- Wait, what about Danielle? - Who?

- Excuse me? - Oh, fuck.

- The icon who fingered you to completion? - Danielle...

Okay. Well, you seem upset.

My work here is done. Time to get back to my eggs. Good talk.

Bye.

It's gonna be so romantic

when you choose Danielle over everything else in the world.

- Rutgers! - Nice try.

Dream. School. Resumé. Gold.

Don't be stupid. Go to Berkeley.

What the fuck? I thought we were friends now?

Relax, we are. As long as I get what I want, which is Berkeley.

No. Rutgers!

God! This whole dream come true thing sucks my fuckin' asshole.

Emmy, behold...

I've created a complex yet intuitive system

to organize your irresponsible amount of unread emails.

I've simply transported your emails into actionable and archival folders.

And now, every time you get a new email, you just remember the Four D's and One R.

Delegate...

Defer...

Respond...

Do...

Or Delete.

Hm. Pretty magical, huh?

Oh no. Pete, bud,

do you think wizards are cool?

Yeah, well, if we're not cool,

then why is Gandalf drowning in hobbit twat?

Is he? Wow. Good for him.

Okay, there were some emails I had trouble categorizing.

Where should this one go? Subject line, "The Chugger."

Oh! Um...

You can just delete that one.

It's, uh, not about work, it's stupid.

So just go ahead and delete it, yeah.

You and Rochelle have been going back and forth on this for years.

- It's 700 emails long. - Yeah, what the heck? Stupid.

Here, I'll just delete it myself.

"That feeling when The Chugger gets to the water cooler first." Hm.

- Oh, it's just a stupid meme. - No, no, I get it.

- This guy drinks a lot of water. - Yes, he does.

"The Chugger looks thirsty this morning, hide your Dasanis."

Yeah.

Who is this loser schmuck you're calling "The Chugger," anyway?

Uh... Gosh. It's, um...

It's... Of course it's Joe.

- Yeah, it's Joe. Joe is The Chugger. - Huh.

- You know what? - What?

Yeah, I have seen Joe drink. Classic Chugger.

Totally, yes. Very true.

Poor guy. He has no idea, does he?

No, no, and we should, of course, never speak of it to him

or really anyone else even, I would even say.

Methinks that Mr. Chugger's none the wiser, young Padawan.

- Star Wars, cool reference. - It's Yoda.

So I told him, I said, "Doctor,

ears, nose, and throat, it's too many things."

"You should pick one and corner the market."

That's great, Dad.

Why aren't you telling your dad the good news?

Because there is no good news. She's still going to Rutgers.

What'd you get into today, Natalie?

I caught four spiders and let three of them live.

Also, I got detention

for putting a big bag of grapes on the principal's car.

Stop wasting grapes.

- Ugh! - Nadja, what about you?

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing, uh, over here. So I'll just pass it over to Mom.

- Aren't you gonna tell them? - Tell us what?

- Nadja got into Berkeley! - Holy shit.

- Yes! - Yeah...

Berkeley, here we come! Here we come! Here we come! Ayo!

Oh my God, were you just wearing that under your clothes?

Two months straight just in case,

because I knew my girl was getting into Berkeley.

I bet that shirt stinks.

This is amazing news.

Now you don't have to go to stupid Rutgers. Yuck.

"Stupid Rutgers"?

Wait, I thought you liked Rutgers?

That's when we thought that was the best you could do.

Now we don't have to pretend to be happy.

- I haven't decided yet where I'm gonna go. - That's right!

- Excuse you? - Y'all heard her.

Oh, wait. Wait a minute, Nadja.

Are you seriously considering saying no to our dream school?

Listen to your dad, Nadja.

He's fuckin' smart. You know why? He went to Berkeley!

Well, Rutgers has a really good engineering program.

And don't forget Danielle!

- Is this because of Danielle? - Yes!

What? No. Maybe. Kinda. I don't know.

She loves her.

You're not giving up a dream because of a silly high school crush.

High school crush?

What? You and Dad got together in high school.

Yeah, but it wasn't serious, we were just hooking up.

It was purely physical.

- Eww. I'm eating. - Oh my God, stop.

Nadja, habibi, I know it's hard. But this is your future.

You can't make these choices based on anyone else,

no matter how great they are.

Baba...

I guess Danielle and I could do long-distance or something.

- No! - Yes!

- That's my girl. - She's my girl, too.

We are so proud of you, Nadja.

I'm gonna go to my room.

You're stuck in the wall, aren't you?

Shut it, you scaly little creep.

All right. Should I get another shrimp cocktail or...

Ooh! Clams casino. Oh, ho, ho! That sounds good.

The, uh...

The Chugger sure is taking his time, huh?

- Ooh... What? - What do you mean?

- Don't worry. Emmy told me all about it. - She did?

She did. And I think it's hilarious.

Oh. Okay, so you know you're the Chugger? And you're okay with it?

Uh... Of course I know...

...that I'm the Chugger.

We are a... a part of a community of people who have access to the same information.

Which is, uh, why I'm going to run away.

You know what? Screw it. I'm getting both. I got plenty of time for diarrhea today.

- I'm the Chugger? - Hey! No, you're not. Who told you?

Why? Why am I The Chugger?

It all started 50 years ago.

Rochelle and I were bored,

so we went to the kitchen to steal 30 bags of chips for later.

And then you walked in and our lives changed forever.

You drank a cup of water

and it was really loud.

Wait. That's it? I drank water?

Yes, like really loud, though.

And it was funny because it was a really big cup.

So you've been laughing about me behind my back for 50 years?

Well, you weren't supposed to know about it.

And this would have never happened

if you didn't try to do your dork shit on my computer.

Well, sorry if I'm not cool and fun like you and Rochelle,

with your hilarious inside jokes about me.

Well, I honestly assumed you hated me because I'm bad at my job

and I ignore all your emails on purpose because they stress me out.

Well, I don't hate you.

- I thought you were neat. - Oh.

But I guess you know what to do with this friendship, the fourth D.

Yeah, um, of course. The fourth D.

Uh, and the D stands for...

Delete! You didn't even listen to my cool wizard presentation.

Oh, fuck.

Petra. It's me, Gavin.

Oh! Hello, Gavin. Is there anything I can do for you?

I wanna go eat spaghetti at an Italian restaurant tonight.

You're coming with me, gremlin.

- Oh! So, it's a date? - Yeah, fine. Whatever you wanna call it.

I'll pick you up in my big, stinky car at 8:30.

- Wear something loose. - Yes!

Hey. You ready to go watch 100 teens grind for five hours straight?

- What're you talkin' about? - Uh... Prom night? Remember? Nadja?

Oh, shit. Gavin just asked me out to watch him eat spaghetti.

Hm. Well, too bad we're not friends anymore or I'd offer to cover for you.

Okay, here we go.

I'm sorry I gloated about being better than you.

Will you please cover for me so I can get hardcore humped by Gavin?

- Wow. - There.

How can I say no to a beautiful apology like that?

- So you'll do it? - Fine. But I'm not doing this for you.

I'm doing this for your snatch.

All right! Excuse me as I get my hoo-hoo ready.

Hey! Wake the fuck up! It's go time.

Well, well, well. Bingo, bango, Dodge Durango.

Pardon me, little lady,

is this seat next to your fat, fucking gorgeous,

ferkin', fuckin' perfect, fuckin' round fuckin' ass taken?

Please, good sir, take a seat.

I've been waiting all night for a gentleman

with a heavy dick to come round.

- The name's Bogart. Bogart Saint-Humphrey. - Ooh!

As you can tell by my plastic badge,

I'm a Junior Blizzard Marshall at the Dairy Queen.

- The name's Cleopatra Dickens. - Great name.

- And I am a world-class spy. - I bet you are.

I'm on the hunt for a serial killer

who's been murdering pussy

- all over the country. - Uh-oh.

Do you know where I might find this gentleman?

- I might have a couple of fuckin' leads. - Mm-mm.

You look so beautiful tonight.

Aww. You like me.

Oh, babe, babe. No, don't cry.

I just wish things could stay like this.

No, I know.

Me, too. But I'm so proud of you for getting into Berkeley.

Let's make the most of tonight, okay?

Yeah, you're right. You're right. Crying is not the vibe.

I don't wanna do long-distance with Danielle.

I know. She's so hot up close.

But Petra's so psycho about me going to Berkeley.

Well, Petra's not here.

Yeah, wait, where is she?

- Basketball! - Yeah. Mm-hm.

- Oh, poker! - Yeah, come on. Come on.

- Guy stuff! - Yup, yup, yup, yup.

- Back or hair? - What?

Where do you want me to cum? On your back or in your hair?

- Neither, you lunatic. - Alright, I'll just throw it at your lamp.

Oh, yeah! Oh God!

- Oh shit! - What the fuck?! It's a family heirloom!

Whoo! Man. I am glad Rochelle told me you were down to fuck.

It's my favorite thing,

aside from tuna soup.

- What? Excuse me? Rochelle? - Yeah, she said you wanted my hog.

Agh!

That two-faced fuckin' fruit-fly!

Hey! You wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend?

- No! - Good! 'Cause I was...

I was joking.

So why don't you tell me all about this darn pussy killer man?

Well, I did find a few clues I'd like to share with you.

Oh, yeah.

I happen to have been storing them in my asshole and throat.

Sounds like we should return to the scene of the crime and fuck for fingerprints.

- Mm-mm. - Ooh-ooh, excuse me.

Sonya, I'm calling you a cab.

I'm good, I'm good. Oof!

Oh, shit. We need to check on her.

Well, I reckon she could spit tobacky at me

while I pan for gold inside your guts.

I'm also a prospector. You should know.

Sonya! It's me, Connie, in a wig because of sex stuff.

I'm gonna help you get home, okay?

Don't be silly, I'm fine to fly.

Sonya, no!

See, Connie? I made it home fine.

Maury, help me get her down.

Maury? Who's Maury?

I'm Bogart Saint-Humphrey of the Horsefuck Falls Saint-Humphreys.

Hey. If I wasn't this, could I do drunk?

No, no, no, no, no!

She's actually doing really well.

Shit.

All right. That's it. We're driving her home.

Fine. But if my crank isn't in your stank by midnight,

I'm gonna throw a huge hissy fit.

Quiet down, kids.

It's time to announce your Prom King and Queen.

Okay, girl, I get that Berkeley is your dream school,

but Danielle is your dream girl.

And you might not find

love like this ever again.

This year's Prom Queen is Nadja El-Khoury.

Oh! What?

Oh, my God. Mwah! Congrats, babe.

I love you so much.

I love you, too.

Now, everyone, bow down to your queen.

I said, celebrate her.

I, uh... I had a feeling

all of you were attracted to me and this confirms it, so thank you.

Aww.

True love dream girl.

This is your moment. Tell her how you feel.

What? What's going on?

Uh, but my heart does belong to one girl, and I wanna say this in front of everyone...

No, Nadja, don't you dare listen to your stupid fucking heart!

Danielle, I love you. And...

I'm going to Rutgers, baby, to be with you.

No!

Love wins! Love is love, love is love!

Fuck you, Petra! I win, bitch. Whoo!

- Are you paralyzed by joy? - Why did you do that?

Aren't you happy? We're gonna be together. I'm turning down Berkeley.

Yeah. You're turning down Berkeley for me.

Yeah. Why are you upset?

Look, I mean, I love you,

but you could've talked to me first before Jumbotron-proposing

in front of our whole school.

Danielle, wait.

- Oh my God! What just happened? - What the fuck just happened?

You fucked everything up, that's what the fuck just fucking happened.

Oof.

Uh... Hi.

Is this seat taken?

No. But I'm mad at you so don't expect me to be fun like I usually am.

Okay, look. I'm so sorry about the Chugger thing.

I... I guess I didn't think it would bother you so much.

I mean, you're a rock.

Yeah, but rocks have feelings. And I thought you guys liked me.

What? Of course we like you. We're obsessed with you.

You're like a total enigma.

So, um, like, when you say "we", do you mean, like, you and Rochelle?

- Oh my God. - What?

- You like Rochelle. - You shut the fuck up!

Whoa! You really like Rochelle. You've got a big, fat crush.

No. Shh! No, I don't.

Oh, I'm so sorry, are you from Moscow? Because you're crussian.

I don't like her. I'm serious.

Hold on, are you a sheep named Usher? Because you got it, you got it "baaahd."

- All right. You know what? Good night. - Wait, wait, wait. Is your name Pete?

Because you fucking love her.

Oh, man, I'm so good at these.

What is your problem?

My problem is I don't wanna be the reason that you go to Rutgers.

Up until, like, two fucking days ago, I was gonna go there.

But things are different now. This is too much pressure.

Pressure? We're in love. You fingered me. Do you even want to do long-distance?

- No... I... I don't know. - You're being horrible!

I can't believe you played me like that!

I never would've had to mess with you if you'd just stayed with Rutgers.

And I would've never been your fuckin' friend

if I'd known you were a fucking cunt!

I'm sorry, no. Nadja, please don't cry.

Look, I... I honestly just assumed we would break up

- at the end of the summer or something. - Excuse me?

I mean, come on, we're in high school.

What did this bitch just say?

Okay. Sure.

I mean, if we're gonna break up anyway, why not just do it now?

- Are you serious? - Yup. Let's just get it over with.

We're broken up. It's broken. You broke it. It's over. Happy prom.

And don't fucking follow me.

Oh my God. She's not following me. Shit.

Fuck you, you whore.

Oh, God, I wanna die.

I know. I hate Danielle.

Should I tell her this is the best thing that could have possibly happened

and that, in three months, she'll be glad she's single?

Let's wait till tomorrow.

Got it. Got it. Care to drown your sorrows?

Man, I really thought they loved each other.

They do, they did, who cares.

She's going to Berkeley. She'll meet a white girl with dreads.

Ugh! I hope not. Fuckin' teenagers.

What's going on with you, Sonya? I know you lost your job, but this seems...

It's more than that.

Oh God. I did a bad thing.

- Oh, shoot, did you kill someone? - Connie...

Ooh, did the body used to be a big person or a small person?

I just need to know how many backpacks to bring.

I can't talk about it.

That's okay, honey. I'm still here.

Will you sleep in bed with me?

I don't want to be alone.

Of course, baby. One second, I just gotta break the news to Maury.

Maury? Go home, we're not porking tonight.

Maury? Bogart Saint-Humphrey?

What is this? An all-female porno?

A Gatorade?

Ooh! And a note.

"Dearest Cleopatra,

I reckon you and your lady friend need a little space tonight."

"But come sunrise, I will giddy-up all in your pussy."

"Your trusty steed, Bogart Saint-Humphrey of the Horsefuck Falls Saint-Humphreys."

Well, ain't that sweet?

"Dear Mr. Saint-Humphrey."

"Pussy slaying suspect

is still at large."

"Back on the case tomorrow."

"Signed, Cleopatra. P.S. You truly are a gentleman."

I am such a gentleman. I'm such a gentleman.

I'm such a fucking gentleman. I'm such a fucking gentleman!

I'm such a fucking gentleman!

Oh, God. Fuck, I love role play.

Nadja and I were up crying all night. It's so unfair.

Well, have you considered texting Danielle a hundred times in a row?

I mean, that never works for me, but I figured I'd suggest it anyway.

Yeah. Thanks.

Oh, Pete. Get your gorgeous ass over here.

I'm sorry I sexually harassed you just now.

Uh, please forget I said that thing about your ass

- and bring that ass over here. - Mm, what do you want?

Um... I was just about to tell Rochelle

about how awesome Inbox Zero is.

- The abortion clinic? - Uh, yeah, actually, but... but no, no, no.

I meant Pete's amazing system for organizing emails.

He's a real sorcerer with that shit.

Well, uh, technically, a wizard.

Sorcerers are born with intuitive magical ability

- that's nurtured at a very young age. - Oh, Pete. No, no, no.

My point is that Pete's system is a great distraction

from things like feelings and emotions.

- I don't know. - Oh, come on, it'll be fun.

Rochelle, enjoy Pete's rock-hard ass.

Pete, don't report me, you sexpot. Byeee.

Um... Welcome to the magical world of Inbox Zero.

Now I know what you're thinking, "zero" refers to zero emails

in your inbox.

That is incorrect.

You fuckin' nerd.

Okay, "Zero" actually refers to the amount of time

you should spend looking at your inbox.

It is a great way to declutter your mind.

Now, first off,

don't leave your email client open during the day.

Just check in at the top of the hour,

and then quickly try to delete or archive as many emails as possible.

If you can reply to an email in under two minutes,

you should do it, but if you need longer,

then you should move the email into an actionable folder.

Then you can chip away at those emails requiring responses throughout the day.

Now, um, let's talk Labels versus Folders.

Now, think of Labels as Sticky Notes.

An email can be categorized with multiple labels,

but it can only go in one folder.

Now, I find this system helpful because...

Oh, you're sleeping?

Okay, um, I'm gonna go grab a glass of water.