Original subtitles

Now that's what I call liquid assets.

Mailer, old boy, your brunch is the event of the season.

Eh, it's okay.

But no brunch would be complete without a little dessert.

The most expensive sheet cake in the world!

If you want to know how much it costs, take a look at the frosting.

Rigby!

What?

I'll buy you a new cake.

You really screwed up this time!

Hold on now, Benson.

You share as much blame for this as he does.

Because you are his manager.

It's true, Benson.

I told you I needed a nap.

You're tired because you were up all night playing video games!

Enough!

Rigby's a screw-up, but discipline starts at the top.

So here's what's gonna happen.

One of you is gonna write a letter of resignation by 5 o'clock.

No one leaves this office until it's done.

And if you can't work it out, you're both fired!

This is the last thing I needed today.

First, my car breaks down and I have to get a ride from my dad.

And now this.

All right, Rigby.

Stop playing around and write that letter.

Why should I write it?

Didn't you hear?

Maylard said it was your fault.

Cause you mismanaged me.

Come on, Rigby.

We both know this is your fault.

Not now, Benson.

I'm reading up on my management techniques.

There's some good stuff in here.

Hey!

I was reading that!

Why can't you take anything seriously?

Why are you so uptight?

What's going on in here?

Rigby, give me that!

This isn't party time.

This is write a letter to quit time.

And if I have to come back in here, I'm busting heads!

I'm not writing that letter.

Rigby, don't you make me come out there!

Ugh!

Rigby!

If Maylard catches us out of the room, we're dead.

Well then go back so you don't get caught.

That's it, Rigby.

You march right back!

Oh, shoot!

Rigby, what are you doing in here?

You can come out now, Benson.

Oh, hey, Benson.

I thought Maylard was gonna fire you.

Psst!

Maylard's just bluffing.

But, Papa, you can't fire both of them!

Ah!

Shh!

We gotta get out of here!

Which way is your office?

Ah!

Down there!

I'm so angry at those two.

I think I'll just stare at my beloved park for a few long minutes.

Nah, on second thought, I better check in on them.

Oh, yeah, yeah!

Ah!

Rigby, give me a hand.

Rigby!

What the?

Rigby!

What's the meaning of this?

Uh, the door was stuck.

I was trying to help.

You know, old house.

Benson.

Uh, yeah.

It does that sometimes.

The door... sticks.

What am I feeling right now?

What is this called?

It's called being alive.

It's called being alive.

Well... Thanks for helping me.

No problem.

Uh... What am I gonna do?

This job is my life.

Okay.

Tell you what.

If you write the letter, I'll write you a stellar

letter of recommendation for your next job.

Yeah, Benson.

I'll think about it.

But I can't think on an empty stomach.

You're not gonna eat those wings cold, are you?

Geez, Benson.

You're even uptight about how to eat hot wings.

You'll do a lot better at your next job if you just loosen up a bit.

Give me that.

Hey!

Vincent, wait!

Where are we going?

The kitchen, Rigby.

We're gonna cook these wings.

But I'm fine with eating them cold.

We're better than that.

I'm not.

Looks like the coast is clear.

We're just gonna reheat them and then go, right?

Yeah.

I'll look out for Maillard.

Now, where's the paprika?

Are you... Paprika?

Are you kidding?

I thought we were just gonna reheat them and go.

Oh, that's what I'm doing.

The Benson way.

Microwave wings, microwave wings.

This is Benson's recipe for microwave wings.

Dash of pepper, blast of curry.

Mixing them slow, whoa, not gonna hurry.

What are you singing?

Microwave wings.

Off of Cornutopia.

Hair to the Throne's recipe concept album.

It was a huge hit on the adult contemporary prog rock soft metal charts.

Never heard of it.

Microwave wings, microwave wings.

Where did everybody go after the show?

Benson's on his own again, don't you know?

Benson eats alone.

Benson eats alone.

Man, good tune.

Weird bridge, though.

They're coming!

But the song says it's gotta cook for 90 seconds and not one second less!

I'm bailing!

Out of my way!

Oof!

Come on, come on.

Benson, don't be stupid!

My shirt!

Still got stains on it!

Club soda will get that right out.

Now where did I put it?

Hmm... Ah, it's probably in the pantry.

Pops, when's the last time this kitchen was remodeled?

Ah!

Huh?

I mean, uh... Uh... Uh... Seven!

Odd seven!

No wonder I like it so much.

Classic!

Now, let's see.

Club soda.

Club soda.

Club soda.

Club soda.

Club soda.

Club soda.

Club soda.

Did you say something?

Oh!

Just doing calisthenics, father.

Aha!

Getting strong, eh?

Think you can take on your old man?

Good!

Never challenge me again.

Dude,

that was awesome!

Well?

You're right!

These are way better!

Told ya!

Lunch Club!

Benson, what are you anxious about?

Oh-ho!

Awkward silences.

Airplane toilets.

Silverfish.

Do I have any library books out?

What if they stop making that gum I like?

This recurring nightmare where I'm flailing in a futureless void.

My father's there.

He's laughing at me.

Wow!

You're pretty messed up.

My dad, he was always like, Your brother Don is so amazing.

Just go back to being a screw up, Rigby.

I don't even understand half the reasons I do the things I do.

I'm expected to be a clown, so I'm a clown.

But clowns cry too, man.

Clowns cry too.

My old man criticized me for being in that band.

Wake up!

You don't have any talent!

Get a real job!

Drumming's my life, Dad!

Head to the throne forever!

After six months, they replaced me with a drum machine.

He was right.

Then I started working here, where I'll probably be until I die.

Here lies some uptight park manager.

Don't say that.

You're more than that!

Thanks, man.

And you're more than just a goof that messes things up.

It's almost five.

What are we gonna do?

I'll do it.

For once, I'll take responsibility for my actions.

No, I'll be fired.

For once, I'll have a spine and change my life.

Where are they?

Dear Mr. Maylord, we accept that we messed up, but you're

crazy to make one of us write a resignation letter.

You see us as you want to see us.

In the simplest terms, you see us as an angry, uptight boss.

An irresponsible slacker.

A guy who has no fun.

A guy who has too much fun.

A guy who's estranged from his father.

Dad, we never talk.

So if one of us resigns from your precious park, we both resign.

Does that answer your question?

Sincerely, The Lunch Club.

P.S.

Shove it, you decrepit old fart.

That's no use.

I can't read this at all.

Pops, read this for me.

I can't find my glasses.

Um... It says...

We love the park and don't want to be fired.

We're sorry, love, Benson and Rigby.

P.S.

No... Nice things.

Well, what a lovely letter.

Especially the nice things they said at the end.

I forgive them.

I don't know what I was thinking.

Those two round out the whole dynamic here.

Where would we be without a Benson?

Or a Rigby?

Where indeed!

Ah!