Original subtitles

-[rings] -Hold all my calls.

[giggling]

♪ Boss Baby ♪

♪ I'm the Boss, Boss Baby, boss, boss Boss Baby, boss, boss ♪

♪ Watch a itty-bitty kid get large ♪

♪ I'm the big Boss Baby in charge ♪

♪ Stroller rolling Up and down the boulevard ♪

♪ I'm the big Boss Baby in charge ♪

♪ I run this house, I rule this crib ♪

♪ Change my diaper, son, where's my bib? ♪

♪ Don't pacify, you just got to pay me ♪

-♪ Who's in charge? ♪ -♪ Me, the Boss Baby ♪

[laughing]

European!

[both laughing]

Tell me about it! Thirty-hour work weeks.

What? No. It's my Laugh-A-Day calendar. You have to see today's joke.

"If you're American when you go into the bathroom

and Australian when you come out, what are you when--" eh?

-This isn't today's date. -It's summer. I'm a kid.

-Dates are meaningless. -[rips]

"Tuba toothpaste"?

"It needed a root canal." "You're under a vest"?

[laughing] That one's inappropriate.

-Holy crud, that's what today is? -What's the problem?

Not a fan of knock-knock jokes? [laughing]

The interrupting cow doesn't even let him fin-- hey!

[Tim] Summer's almost over.

I have to go back to school.

For what? A weekend training seminar?

Like, every day! For seven hours!

Wow. We really need to renegotiate your contract.

No, we need to get out there and fight for every last drop of summer fun.

We don't stop till every knee and elbow's scraped to the bone!

[yells] For summer!

[voice echoes]

[Tim, Boss Baby yelping]

-I'm gonna be sick! -I'm gonna barf!

-[Boss Baby laughing] I'm gonna throw up! -I'm gonna hurl!

[Boss Baby laughing]

-[Boss Baby] I'm gonna vomit! -[Tim] I'm gonna blow chunks!

[both retching]

[laughing]

Up for another round tomorrow?

I've got a clean desk, vacation days to burn,

and a brother on his last days of summer freedom.

I'd throw up with you on the moon if we could get there.

-Great, because I'm thinking we-- -[piano chords playing]

[piano chords playing]

[piano chords playing]

-[scattered notes playing] -[Tim] Cool!

-Where'd you guys get that? -Dad picked it up at a rummage sale.

-Disco! -[drum track plays]

You head out for some cut-rate corduroys,

and next thing you know, you've got an instrument and a dream.

-Templeton family band! -A band? Can I be in it?

Who do you think I bought this for? You'll play keyboards, I got bass,

someday the baby can do drums.

[tapping]

-Rock 'n' roll-a! -[clatters]

-Oh, and I bet Mom can-- -Be your number-one fan?

So this is for me? No way. I'm in a rock band!

[banging, grunting]

Er, son, rock 'n' roll may seem easy,

-but it actually takes a lot of work. -And lessons.

Rock 'n' roll lessons? Like where to buy motorcycle tee-shirts?

Piano lessons.

Piano lessons? But it's my last days of summer!

You think I got this good overnight?

[twanging]

No, I watched all three "Learn How to Play Bass Guitar" videos

-before I became a rock god. -And I didn't just wake up

and earn a partial scholarship to play in a college marching band.

[gasps] I said too much!

[gasps]

You have actual band experience? What do you play?

Nothing cool. Not a rock instrument. I don't want to talk about it!

Don't repeat my mistakes, Tim. You learn to rock that cool keyboard.

But piano lessons sound like summer school.

And Danny Petrosky told me

summer school makes your eyes crust over with eye boogers.

And then, you have to go to the eye dentist every Saturday

to get a surgery to clean them out!

Danny Petrosky eats boogers on sandwich bread.

-But-- -Too late! Lesson scheduled

tomorrow morning, ten o'rock! [singing]

[groans] Oh-hh! Piano lessons!

They're gonna suck up the rest of our summer fun time

like a summer-sucking monster that sucks summer with a suck mouth!

[sighs] How am I gonna get out of this?

Hold on. I'm formulating a thought.

Formulate faster! The suck monster's coming.

[sucking]

Stop sucking.

Mom never asks you to do the dishes. I assume there's a reason for that?

Yeah. I had butter all over my hands, so I dropped and broke them all.

Why would you--? Ugh. Never mind.

I had a bunch of butter packets in my pockets--

I said, never mind.

Point is, being terrible can get you out of anything.

-I'll get the butter. -Forget the butter.

Tomorrow, you're going to be so tremendously bad at the piano,

no one will ever want to hear you punch the ivories again.

-I thought it was "tickle the ivories." -Not the way you're gonna play.

[sighs] There they go, my two cool dudes.

[toy horn beeps, siren blurts]

There's my piano saboteur.

Come on, last days of summer are wasting!

I figure we'll start with some Monte Carlo slot cars,

then engage in a Football Mike versus dinosaur counterinsurgency--

Maybe later this week, on a non-lesson day, of course.

What lessons?

[gasps] Did the plan backfire? Too much butter?

-I just kind of really liked the lesson. -Nonsense!

You like hill-rolling and subsequent shrub regurgitation.

Can we talk about this later? I'm gonna take my nap.

Your nap? You haven't taken a nap as long as I've known you.

Mr. Grossman said naps will help my fingers get stronger.

What? [groans] I blew off work for this!

[snoring]

How are you trading fun for sleeping? This isn't like you.

This really isn't like you.

-[beeps] -Jimbo, Staci, tomorrow morning--

Stealth mission. Maximum shooshy.

Wait, we're walking to my lesson?

Rock 'n' roll is a marathon, my man.

Takes a lot of cardio to scream "Oh, yeah!" for two hours.

Plus, it gives us time to talk T 'N' T, Templeton and the Templetons.

It works on everything-- airbrushed van sides, tattoos.

Those are totally rock 'n' roll.

-Do you have any tattoos? -Kind of.

I sat on an ink pen when I was a kid. It broke skin,

so now I have a tattoo of a small blue dot on my butt.

That's so crackerjack!

"Crackerjack"? Who says--

Shh! It's a shooshy stealth mission! Cruddy poop pants, look!

Old people! Oh, I should have suspected!

Lessons cheap enough for Mom and Dad to pay for, on their salaries?

No, this reeks of a Frederic Estes plot. Come on!

[playing slowly]

[playing off-key]

Fiddlesticks. Play it again, Tim, like this.

-[playing ragtime melody] -[groans]

[playing slowly]

-[plays discord] -Why is learning stuff so hard?

Oh, don't let your noodle get zozzled.

-[Mr. Grossman] Play it again, Tim. -Where's Estes?

Mmm. Just looks like your normal piano lesson.

Shh! [giggles] So fun.

-I could shush all day! -Shh! Jimbo!

Shh! Something's happening.

Maybe he needs to loosen up, have some fun with it, let it rock out.

Oh, I know, his dad can accompany him.

Oh, but... Hmm, huh, who's got a bass?

Wha-ah? Brought my own!

[mimics bass thumping]

Kindly place a meatball in your gobble pipe, Mr. Templeton.

You hear that peace and quiet?

Bet you don't get much quiet with that baby brother of yours around.

[chuckles] That's the truth.

[gasps]

I see what's going on here.

-What's up? -Hang on, I need something.

Play it again, Tim.

[playing slowly]

-Play it again, Tim. -[panting]

[grunts]

Boss! Estes!

-[Tim playing discordant keys] -Play it again, Tim.

Grossman's sign-up list of piano students.

Let's go test my theory.

[Tim] Fiddlesticks!

Dina Namashita?

[babbling]

What do you mean, "What's it to you?"

You think you're the baby pope or something?

Merely running the numbers on a theory.

You have twin big sisters, Gina and Tina,

taking piano lessons from old Mr. Grossman?

-[babbling] -And how's that working out for you?

-[babbling] -[fingers snap]

Uh-huh. Frequent naps. They seem distant.

Won't play ponies with you anymore.

My hunch was right! This is all a Consortium of Ancients plot!

They use piano lessons to get private time with our big brothers and sisters

so they can turn them against us babies.

That seems needlessly complicated.

-[babbling] -Yep, got it. Listen, Dina, is it?

We'd love to actually observe your sisters' changed behavior.

[babbling]

Oh, great. Your grandmothers will show us where to find your sisters?

[gasps] Dear sweet goodness! Those are your sisters?

[both gasp]

The Consortium isn't just taking our big brothers and sisters away,

they're turning them into junior old people.

[gasps] Templeton!

[playing discordant keys] Tiddlywinks!

[sighs] Look at my big boy, Beethoven.

Hey, hon, I was taking a trip down memory lane

with your old college yearbook.

Funny, all the marching band pages have been torn out.

You're not gonna find anything worth finding. You might as well quit.

[playing discordant keys] Horsefeathers!

Mr. G warned me this could happen. My back's getting sore.

Can you fetch me some liniment, Dad?

Uh, let me see what we've got in the... liniment cabinet.

Templeton, they're turning you into a mini-geezer!

What? You got a screw loose, I tell you. A screw loose!

Listen to yourself!

[coos]

[tires screech]

Yo, Tim, hop in shotgun!

My cousin's stepdad just patched up their above-ground pool.

And they have snakes. It's like swimming in the Amazon.

Rain check. I have to practice my piano.

Bring it. I'll grab my guitar. Poolside snake jam!

Why does everyone want to jam with me?

My dance card is full with piano lessons now, so 23 skidoo.

Bro, we took a "broath."

Never say no to a swimming pool, even if it's above ground.

I need to practice. Get off my lawn!

You okay? If you need help--

I said, get off my lawn!

[groans] Oh, too far, Grossman.

You want to turn people against me, take your best shot.

But nobody makes my fun-lovin' brother grow up!

-Yah! -Consarn it! What is this tomfoolery?

Whatever you want it to be-- spaceman helmet, robot head.

Let your imagination run wild, please!

We have to snap you out of this.

Fine, but just to prove you're off your coconut.

And we're off! Where are we, Templeton?

On a shark safari? In the Martian apocalypse?

[wind whistles]

-Well? -Well, what?

Why are we standing in the middle of a field where dreams go to die?

Mmm-mm. Seems like a nice, quiet place to rest my shins

and think about lunch discounts.

[gasps] What's happening to me? Who am I anymore?

I'll tell you who you are! [slaps]

You're Dekker Moonboots, Space Detective!

Urgh!

-I'm... -You're Centipedeor, unleashed!

Urgh! I'm...

You're Timothy Thrasherton, Jurassic Rock Star!

I am...

-You're-- -Tim Templeton!

What the barf am I doing wasting my summer on stupid piano lessons?

Yes!

Get this kid 20 ccs of summertime fun, stat!

[laughing]

[retching]

[laughing]

-Ah-hh! -Ah-hh!

We better get some sleep.

Got a big day ahead making up for lost summer fun time.

Tomorrow I'm slapping butter on my hands

and tanking this piano garbage for good.

-Never grow up, Templeton. -No plans to.

-[sputters] -[laughs]

Good man.

[faint ragtime music playing]

[music continues]

[music continues]

[gasps]

-[music continues] -[Boss Baby panting]

[gasps]

-Get off my lawn! -[bangs keys]

-Tim...? -Gas is how much a gallon?

-Tim! -Bingo!

[screams]

[Mom] How about some breakfast for my little early-risers?

Sounds marvelous, Mother.

Did you see the obituaries, Grandmother? Doris Grabinski died.

97 years old, rest her soul.

She loved to foxtrot. 18 grandchildren.

We can only hope to have such a full life.

Listen up, kiddo.

You're young, it's summer. Forget that old gasbag Grabinski.

You grab life by the horns.

Do something dumb, while you can still get away with it.

-Your Gigi's right. -Break the law if you have to.

Ignore your Gigi.

Humph. Hooliganism. Mother, Cream of Wheat, please.

Since when do you like Cream of Wheat?

And what's with the glasses? We doing a costume day?

Ooh! We should make band outfits.

Are you sure you don't want any Chocolate Cocosplosion

with chocolate marshmallows in chocolate milk?

Sugar causes glaucoma.

Is that why you're wearing those glasses? Maybe we should see the eye doctor.

Maybe you should mind your own beeswax, jack!

Time for my morning constitutional.

Which means my morning poop.

Wow. That kid commits to his costume day.

Maybe he's spending too much time at the Senior Center with Mr. Grossman.

That old crank Grossman? I can't stand him.

And his students, ugh!

They all wind up crotchety and way too into that hokey ragtime music.

And you sent my Timmy there?

[TV announcer] A reverse mortgage is your road to financial independence.

Call today for...

Flibjibbet! I was about to get cash equity from our home!

[sighs] Okay, Tim.

Uh, good news. You graduated from Mr. Grossman's lessons.

Welcome to T 'N' T.

[Mom] Made it myself! Number-one fan.

I have a recital at the Senior Center today.

Great.

I'll bring my bass. We'll jam together.

Show those old folks what rock 'n' roll is all about.

Rock 'n' roll is devil music!

-[gasps] Timothy! -You take that back!

Your generation's stuck in the past, but not far enough in the past!

I'm gonna go where people understand me.

No! No! I knew this would happen.

Honey, what? What is it?

He thinks his friends are cooler than us!

He doesn't think we're cool!

[screams] No!

Shh!

Yay! Shooshy stealth mission!

[beeps]

Am-scray, small fry. I'm hoofin' it.

Are you gonna throw the rest of your summer away?

Kill Dad's dreams of a rock band?

Leave me for the seniors?

I ain't spendin' the rest of my summer in this hot sun.

Free air conditioning at the Senior Center.

All-you-can-eat dried fruit. Good for the constitution. That means--

I know it means poop! Hey! Oh!

Let's do imagination again. Behold, I am Sir Dragonface of--

No more play-acting. Makes my joints swell.

Old Man Tim is back?

I thought you fixed him with imagination junk.

It's that blasted ragtime brainwashing trigger.

I guess pretend spacemen and superheroes weren't enough to break it.

-We need something more powerful. -Real spacemen superheroes?

-Yes! -Uh, yes...?

-Sort of. Jimbo, how's your penmanship? -Exquisite.

[taps]

"Danny, I need your help.

Go get my very cool family and take them to the Senior Center,

and bring your guitar.

Only rock 'n' roll can save me!

Warmest regards, Tim."

It's just like my fortune teller predicted.

I'm coming, Tim!

-He's never rebelled like this before. -[doorbell rings]

Petrosky?

It says Tim needs our help.

And he thinks rock 'n' roll will save him!

And he thinks we're cool.

Honey, let's get back our son.

Wow.

But I'm sorry, I'm not cool enough.

You go. I have to read up on colonial French Indochina.

[Mom humming]

♪ History... ♪

We've got a boy who's throwing his youth away

on liniment creams and ragtime.

So grab whatever your cool instrument is, and--

My coolest instrument is reading, thank you very much.

-Time's wasting, Mr. Dude. -Go save Timmy. I got this one.

Don't worry, Gigi, I got some people on it.

-[Boss Baby on monitor] Any luck? -[groans]

If your mom has an instrument hidden in here,

she doesn't want it found.

Is "participation trophy" a marching instrument?

[Boss Baby] Keep looking.

Sir, I don't understand how this is supposed to help Tim.

Something more powerful than pretend time.

I can't give Tim real spacemen or insect superheroes,

but I can rain down some Timothy Thrasherton Jurassic rock!

[ragtime piano music playing]

Ragtime. The real devil music!

Amen, Petrosky.

Time for a rock 'n' roll exorcism!

[bass note throbs]

[all screaming]

Hello. I'm here for my son.

-[strumming] -[elders wail]

[woman] Devil's music!

Stop it! Get 'em out of here!

-Play it again, Tim! -[playing ragtime melody]

[all growling]

-[volume increases] -[thumping]

[howling]

[wailing]

Petrosky, I got two on my backside that can't hear the low notes!

Screeching licks at your six!

-[guitar squeals] -[elders howl]

Easy, Danny. Some of them are veterans. Just get us to Tim.

[whining]

What in the Sam Hill? Play it again! Louder, Tim!

Fortississimo!

[playing ragtime melody]

What do we do?

Keep rocking, Petrosky! Never stop the rock!

We're losing ground.

[Boss Baby on monitor] Please tell me you've found Mom's instrument.

Found and delivered.

-[Staci] It's all up to her now. -What--? Huh?

Brass Lightning? You came back.

Oh, if only I was cool enough, I could use you to help the boys.

[Gigi] You know what's cool?

Not giving a rat's fuzzy buttflank about what's cool.

-Speech over. Boom! -[yelps]

-[Dad] Hey! -[elder] Scram!

-Come on, you can't stop the rock! -[group growling]

Stop stopping the rock!

Agh! Quit touching my vest! It's a family heirloom!

[gasps]

Janice?

Is that... a xylophone?

Xylos are for lame-os!

Meet my glockenspiel!

[ringing]

[screaming]

[music playing]

[group groaning]

Caesar's ghost! This is a private recital!

Well, we're here to publicly get my sweet little keyboardist back.

Rock 'n' roll, honey.

[yells] I'm here to melt your faces off with my glock!

[music resumes]

[group groaning]

Where are you old farts going? This band is great!

-[music continues] -Eh?

[music continues]

Tim, play it again,

and I'll bring you some chamomile tea and Epsom salts for your bunions.

[Mr. Grossman] Tim? Tim Templeton!

-No! It's Timothy Thrasherton, -[bangs keys]

Jurassic Rock Star!

[yelling] Rr-rr-agh!

What? The Consortium isn't worth listening to this garbage.

-[music continues] -[Tim banging keys]

Pretty good way to spend the last moments of summer, eh, Templeton?

The best.

[Mom] Forgot how much I miss wailing on these steel keys.

You boys watch TV or something.

Your mother and I have to go rehearse.

[sighs]

-Rock 'n' roll. -Rock 'n' roll.

-Oldie-time rag music! -[both gasp]

-Mom! -Shh!

I wouldn't call Mommy and Daddy if I were you.

Or Baby Corp.

-[gasps] -That's right, Boss Baby.

[laughing]

I know everything.

Stinkless Serum!

The plan was to have Grossman make you bring it to me

once you went under his ragtime spell.

-That seems needlessly complicated. -I agree.

So I just waltzed in here and took it myself.

Plus, free cookies!

Not my cookies!

[crunching, chuckling]

Smell you later, Boss. You won't be smelling me.

[laughing, sputtering]

Oh-- uh, after that.

-[door opens, closes] -[sniffs]

Ugh! Cream of Wheat.

[theme music playing]

♪ Boss Baby ♪