All language subtitles for Cake.S03E05_English

(wind howling)

(seagull squawking)

Professor,
can I ask you a question?

Sure, Kanye, anything.

You think Drake is cool?

Yes, I still have
"Hotline Bling" as my ringtone.

Yeah? What else?

Do you like his hairstyle
better, his beard?

No, not better.

They're about equal.

Well, I was doing both first.

And you know what else?

That dance move,
that was my idea too.

See?

This always happens to me.

I change the game, and someone
else gets the credit.

See?

Grindr, my idea.

Wikipedia, iPod Nano,

the TV show "Cake Boss,"
all me.

Now this?

Well, fuck you, Buddy Valastro,
and fuck you, Drake.

(light electronic music)

♪♪ ♪♪

DAVID: Meg, for the last time,

if you don't think
Led Zeppelin

is the greatest rock band
of all time,

then on some fundamental level,

you don't even understand
what rock music even is.

I'm fine with that.
Rock music is for dads.

DAVID: It's one of
the best musical genres

‐of all time.
‐Uh, nope.

That's why they call it
rock music‐‐because it rocks.

Whatever,
genres are for dads.

This is breaking my heart,
'cause I'm a smart guy,

and you should
take my opinions seriously.

(hip‐hop music)

Sorry, can't hear you!

(indistinct singing)

What the fuck is
this music right now,

‐this mumbling shit?
‐ It's Lil Blurp's new mixtape.

Ugh, you know, this sounds
like an upset stomach

somehow fucking a headache,

and I don't like
how it makes me feel.

So?
Feelings are for dads.

Oh, my God, will you shut up
for one second about dads?

‐(phone rings)
‐JOHN: No, thanks.

‐Is that your dad?
‐Uh, no comment.

Ooh, Meg, is this
a first pressing

of Swordfish Trombones?

John, you should put down
that dumb record

and call your dad.

It's Sunday, man.

Yes, and I deserve one Sunday
where I'm not held hostage

to my dad's go‐nowhere stories.

Ooh, what's wrong
with his dad?

There's nothing with his dad!

Mr. Hunchman is the greatest
guy who ever lived.

He's always like,
"Oh, son, do I have

"an interesting story
to share with you today!

"I bought a beige washcloth

and I used my Visa card
to purchase it."

Ugh, I find that impression
to be unnervingly accurate.

You should talk to your dad.

All dads are sad.

Ah, see?
The dad expert hath spoken.

‐Uhh...
‐Heed her words of wisdom.

Fine, I'll talk to my dad.

‐(sighs)
‐(phone beeps)

‐Hey, Dad.
‐HUNCHMAN: Hey, bud.

I was worried you lost
your phone again.

Uh‐huh, let's hear
your interesting news.

So you remember how
I told you last month

I was thinking about
driving out to Pittsboro

to check out
Dan Henry's new office?

Yes?

HUNCHMAN: I went to see Dan,

who you remember
started working for me

back when he was 24
and now, as you know‐‐

He's got your old job.

Yes, sir.
He got my old job,

but not my old office!

John, his new office
is something else.

They got a whiteboard
in the conference room

that isn't even a whiteboard!

It's just a piece of glass,

and, son, it's networked.

‐Okay, and?
‐So if you write on it

in Pittsboro, they could
see it at the same time

at the main branch
in Charlotte!

I mean, wowie McGowie!

Okay.

But there was something else
I wanted to tell you.

(bell chimes)

Well, that was a very long walk

to a surprising destination.

Dude, look, this is insane.

This is Lil Blurp's Instagram
from yesterday.

"Shout‐out to my fans,
my brands,

‐and, most of all..."
‐JOHN: Mm‐hmm.

"This homie right here," and
guess who he's standing with.

JOHN: Uh, let me guess.
My dad?

Wait, your dad
knows Lil Blurp?

I mean, what is happening
right now?

Well, David,
as I've just learned,

my dad is apparently Dicktown's
biggest mumble rap mogul.

Dear Lord, we thank you
for this blessing

and this miracle.
This is so awesome!

What's more, he was
calling with a case for us.

And, Lord, P. S.,
just when I thought

this couldn't get
more wonderful,

you bless us with the fact
that we are about to become

rap detectives, John?

Huh, I guess
that's right, David.

We are now rap detectives.

(dramatic music)

♪♪ ♪♪

(lively electronic music)

(light percussive music)

Gentlemen, thanks for coming
to this meeting

at such short notice.

Greg,
it's past midnight.

Yeah, spit it out.

As you all know, I recently
came into some money.

Yeah, you won't shut up
about it.

RIP, Mom and Dad.

Well,
today I made a purchase.

We're in play, boys.

We are in play.

What the fuck?

Don't touch it, Chris.

That's a catalyzed
thermonuclear

pulse propulsion device.

Who knows what carnage
it could unleash?

Why did you buy it?

All you guys ever do
in this house

is talk about nuclear war.

‐So.
‐So you're always going on

about, "How long before
World War III starts?"

It's made me a nervous wreck.

So I've done something
about it.

‐ What, buy a nuclear bomb?

You said that nuclear war
is inevitable, Wes.

It is if psychos like you
start buying weapons.

I'm not a psycho.

It's a deterrent.

Who is it deterring?

Whoever we drop it on.

Wait, you‐‐
you actually want to use it?

I'm sick of living in fear.

The anxiety is doing
my head in.

It's time to lance the boil.

‐(scoffs) I'm out of here.
‐You can't leave.

We're sealed in.

What do you mean?

This thing's massively
radioactive, Chris.

It's a safety hazard,

so I welded the doors
and the windows shut.

So how do we get out?

Let me guess.

We climb out the hole
in the roof

that the bomb will make
after we launch it.

Whoo!

(tense music)

Time's up.
Where's your first?

37 1/2 degrees south,
88.1 degrees east.

(keypad clicking)

Why do you want to bomb
the southern Indian Ocean?

Uh, that's meant to be
where MH370 went down,

and I want to give those people
a proper burial.

Oh, you've chosen that
because it's miles

from human civilization,
haven't you, Wes?

I don't want to hurt anyone.

But what about the fish?

You know I care passionately
about our oceans.

Fine, bomb a desert, then.

‐ Aww, poor desert.

Nuclear war is a man‐made
issue, has to be a city.

All right, the city
with the smallest population,

whatever that is.

That's annoying of you, Chris,

but technically
within the rules.

‐Oh, yeah.
‐What?

That's the Vatican City,
population 450.

The Pope goes on the board.

Fucking hell.

My turn.

I vote for Arthur Street
basketball courts.

What have you got against them?

It's the site of all
our worst arguments.

It has to go.

We'd just find somewhere else
to argue.

There won't be anywhere else,
Chris.

‐ Aw, fuck.

Wes, seeing your idea
didn't make it,

you can throw the dart.

‐No way.
‐Well, it's up to you

how much radiation
you want to absorb.

We can just sit here
until you‐‐

Fine,
give me the fucking dart.

Go easy, Wes.

Go easy with a nuclear attack?

‐Look where you're throwing.
‐I'll show you "go easy."

BOTH: Ahh!

(missile whirring)

Aw, shit.

(missile roaring)

Where's it going?

To wherever
the factory preset is, I guess.

Which is where?

Uh...

(keypad clicking)

The Kremlin.

(siren blaring)

(lively music, vocalizing)

♪♪ ♪♪

HUNCHMAN: Believe me, fellas,
I never thought

I'd get into
the mumble rap business.

Oh, really,
you didn't predict this?

To be honest,
retirement was kind of dull,

and, as you both know,
I crave excitement.

That's when Dan Henry
told me about

a young songwriter
who needed help.

Mr. Hunchman, what's up, bruh?

What's crack‐a‐lackin',
Perky?

I'm so into this.

Uh‐huh.
Let's just keep walking.

Now here I am,
producing a rap music video

in an abandoned shopping mall.

Who says there are no second
acts in American lives?

‐Fitzgerald.
‐Batman.

What?
No, F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Well, as Lil Blurp
might say,

Papa Zany, haters
get wetted by my nine.

(hip‐hop music)

Here we are.
Now we need to be quiet.

‐BOTH: Whoa.
‐(mumble rapping)

DAVID: Oh‐em‐God.

Welcome to show biz, fellas.

(mimics blaring airhorn)

♪♪ Nah, just give me paper ♪♪

♪♪ I just want the paper ♪♪

(indistinct rapping)

Oh, my God, Dad.

JOHN: How much money did
you invest in this project?

$200,000.

Oh, no.

And what, I suppose
you want me to try

to get the money back
for you somehow?

No, I made that money back
in a week

once we monetized
Lil Blurp's YouTube channel,

which is amazing,
considering he dropped out of

Smallmouth Poly Prep
just five months ago.

‐I can't hear you‐‐what?
‐He dropped out of

‐Smallmouth Poly Prep‐‐
‐RIZ: Cut!

Who's fucking up
my shoot, yo?

Oh, yeesh, I'm sorry, Riz.
My bad.

Boys, this is
Ryan "Riz" McClorkle.

‐He's our director.
‐I'm on my grind,

tryin' to make
Lil Blurp blow up,

so if you gonna keep talking,
you gotta take it outside

or just shut the fuck up.

Hey, that's‐‐that's my dad.

Yo, Riz.
Hold these.

No one disrespects Mr. Hunchman
like that, you hear me?

‐Yeah.
‐He's the bank.

‐Okay.
‐He pays you!

‐Yeah.
‐So just on the professional,

‐you let him by.
‐Sorry, Blurp.

But more than that,

he's that white dad
I never had.

Straight up father figure.

Shout‐out to Mr. Hunchman!

(laughs)
It's all love.

Aw, you sounded magnificent
up there, Blurp.

‐Mm, did he?
‐Yo!

Inspector John,
the lonely detective!

‐You gonna help us?
‐Uh, actually I don't know

why I'm here, Dad.

This is why I called you, bud.

There's been
an incident on set.

Do y'all fuck with Lil Dronk?

I don't think we do.
David?

‐Not to my knowledge.
‐Hmm.

LIL BLURP: He a rainbow
dreadlock no‐talent bitch.

We see Little Dronk
as a competitor

in the mumble rap sector.

LIL BLURP: Lil Dronk
shot a video with a lion.

He walkin' around
with a damn lion.

‐Uh‐huh.
‐So I gotta up the game

‐for my video.
‐Oh.

So guess what I got.

Ten omelets!

I'm sorry.
Omelets?

Blurp, we've been over this.

They're called ocelots.

(gasps)
You have ten ocelots here?

LIL BLURP: Yeah!
Ocelots be like mini tigers.

We got 'em from
some animal rescue.

Rhode Island or some shit?

It was right over the border
in South Carolina.

Right, I thought
that was Rhode Island,

but it was
South Carolina.

HUNCHMAN: Marinello Sisters
Big Cat Rescue.

People get them as pets,
but they too wild,

so they abandon them.
It's sad.

It is sad, Blurp.

You two really get along,
don't you?

So it's finna be your boy,
space hallway stuntin'

with ten little homies
like we at Harris Teeter,

also Tokyo Drift, sheezer.

But this morning?
They boosted, nah mean?

(laughs)
No.

All right,
let me figure this out.

You rented ten ocelots
to put in a shopping cart.

That's the Harris Teeter
reference.

(bell dings)

And push across
that sky bridge‐‐

‐space hallway‐‐
‐(bell chimes)

in slow motion‐‐
"Tokyo Drift."

‐(bell chimes)
‐But they've been stolen.

‐And you want us to find them.
‐(bell chimes rapidly)

Oh, ho, ho, you a don,
Detective John!

‐Does that rhyme?
‐Putting that together was

honestly the best detective
work I've ever done in my life.

Can you help us, son?
Please.

This video is a crucial step
for Little Blurp.

(sighs)
Fine, Dad.

Take us to the scene
of the crime.

(lively instrumental music)

(lively instrumental music)

(funky electronic music)

♪♪ ♪♪

(video camera whirring)

‐GLENN: How's it going?
‐TOM: Hey, how are you?

It's nice to meet you.

GLENN: Actually,
we've met before.

‐Yes, of course we have.
‐GLENN: Yeah.

Um, the, uh‐‐

GLENN: We did a play together.

Remember?

‐The, um‐‐
‐GLENN: Cabin of Fog.

Yes, shit.

God, Glenn, right?
Is it Glenn?

‐GLENN: Yeah.
‐Wow.

It's good to see you.
You don't‐‐

You're not acting anymore then?

GLENN: Nope.

I didn't want to act anymore.

That's great.

I mean, you're probably
better off now, right?

GLENN: So why don't we just
start with scene one.

‐All right.
‐GLENN: And just so you know,

this role might be
a little against type for you.

Mm‐hmm.

GLENN: They're looking
for masculine.

Sorry?

GLENN: Action.

So here's where you've
been hiding.

Yeah.
Yeah, I just, um...

(sniffs) I just needed
some air, I guess.

You know, you shouldn't let
your boyfriend

‐talk to you like‐‐
‐GLENN: All right, Tom,

‐I'm just gonna stop you.
‐Yeah.

GLENN: So just so we're clear,
it's not a kids' movie,

so you can't act as big
as you usually do.

You're not gonna get it

'cause you're good‐looking,
you know?

Okay.

GLENN: So here's where
you've been hiding.

Yeah, I just, um,
I needed some air, I guess.

GLENN: (chuckling)
Tom, I'm sorry.

‐What?
‐GLENN: I don't want to keep

cutting you off, but I just
want you to get the best look.

‐You know what I mean?
‐Yeah, no.

GLENN: Here, let me show you.

‐What?
‐Give me the line.

Give you what line?

So here's where you've
been hiding.

Yeah, I came out here
for some air.

You know,
you shouldn't let...

you boyfriend talk to you
like that.

Do you see that?

You see how I took a pause
like an actor,

'cause I'm trying
to have empathy?

Did you see the level?

That was nice, right?
Try that.

‐That that this time.
‐Oh, fucking...

Sorry,
what the fuck is your problem?

GLENN: You rushed
your goddamn entrance

in A Cabin of Fog,
and you ruined my performance.

‐Oh, my fucking God.
‐You ruined it.

‐Yes!
‐Are you fucking kidding me?

You had five lines.

I'm not kidding you.
You ruined my five lines.

‐You had five lines.
‐Use‐‐use that.

‐What?
‐Go with that.

What? Oh, fuck's sake.

GLENN: So here's where you've
been hiding.

Yeah, I just‐‐
I needed some air, I guess.

You know, you shouldn't let
you boyfriend talk‐‐

GLENN: All right,
I think we got it, Tom.

‐Yeah, fuck you, Glenn.
‐GLENN: Thanks for coming in.

‐Go fuck yourself.
‐GLENN: Fuck yourself as well.

(video camera beeps)

(dreamy electronic music)

♪♪ ♪♪

(siren blaring)

(eerie music)

♪♪ ♪♪

Guys, over here.

(slurping)

How is it?

I'm too thirsty to care.

(inhales)

(exhales)

So this is the apocalypse, eh?

Pretty manageable.

The reality is never as bad,
is it?

It's the not knowing
that causes the anxiety.

The world is destroying itself,
Greg.

True, but on the plus side,
my stress is gone.

I'm more relaxed than I've been
for years.

Greg,
if you were that stressed,

why didn't you take a week off
and go to the beach?

That's a good point.

Yeah.

Yeah.

(gagging)

Yeah.

(harsh electronic music)

(loud crash)

(light electronic music)

(electronic music)

(video camera whirring)

MAN: Okay, so we'll just need
to get a slate

before we begin.

Okay,
so this is Tucker Barkelson

reading for Rusty the army dog.

And action.

Rusty, is that you?

(dog barks)

You saved my life, boy.

‐MAN: Are you okay?
‐WOMAN: Foot. Down.

MAN: Oh, no. They got you.

They shot you, boy.

Okay, and this is where
we need him to completely die.

WOMAN: On your side.

MAN: Okay,
you see how his tail's wagging?

Can he not be happy
when he's dying?

And action.

(imitating gunfire)

Boom, boom.

Oh, boy, they shot you.

He really has to stop
wagging his tail.

Action.

(dog barking)

Okay, actors,
please wait your turn, okay?

Let's have some silence
in here

in respect for the auditions.

Can he crawl into it,
like, military‐style?

WOMAN: Down, crawl.

Down, crawl.

Stay.

MAN: Okay,
he's wagging his tail again.

Is he mocking me?

Do you have another dog?

I'm gonna be honest.

I don't think anyone's
gonna give a fuck

that this dog's dying.

And they're fishing out
the bullet.

He looks hopeful for a moment.

Then things take a turn
for the worse.

He's still dying.

He's going, going...

And dead.

Okay, yeah,
this dog looks dead.

This should work.

Can we trim his ears?

(camera shuts down)

(pulsing electronic music)

DAVID: Okay,
here's what we know.

At 7:00 a. m., the ocelots
were locked up

under the care of
Daisy Marinello

of Marinello Sisters
Animal Rescue.

After a crew breakfast
that was around 8:15,

Daisy says she feels "sleepy."

She disappears,

and next thing you know,
all the ocelots are gone.

Oh, my God,
this is terrible.

I mean, it's really shameful.

It's not that bad.
It's just ocelots.

No, no, this, I'm watching
this Lil Dronk video.

DAVID: Oh.

JOHN: I mean,
it's an insult to rap music.

What happened to lyrics?

‐To craftsmanship?
‐Yeah, I know.

I know, nobody under the age
of 30 can rap for shit.

‐Come at me, teenagers.
‐JOHN: I just don't get it.

I know that after my mom died,

Dad and I didn't
have much in common,

but I didn't expect him to
replace me with a secret son,

especially not one
with the words

"fuck life, eat pie"
tattooed on his tongue.

I understand.
It's heavy and it's weird,

but look on
the bright side.

A rapper is paying us money
to hunt ocelots

in the very same mall
where I once got busted

for shoplifting
KRS‐One cassettes.

You know what?
That was a good pep talk.

‐Yeah, I know.
‐Okay, let's do this.

Ocelots‐‐highly solitary,
natural climbers...

If my guess is right‐‐
and it is‐‐they went up

that open air duct shaft
and split up.

DAVID: (laughs)
Are we going up in an air duct?

‐Yes.
‐Hell yes.

Ocelot hunting montage?

Bring that beat back!

(funky music)

♪♪ ♪♪

LIL BLURP: Yo, that's amazing!

But I only count
nine omelets.

Well, that's why I
brought you here, Lil Blurp.

Because, unlike most cats,
ocelots are gifted swimmers.

Thank you for
finding my babies!

I still don't know
why I passed out.

Well, let me guess, Daisy.

Was your breakfast smoothie
strangely sweet this morning?

Yes!
How did you know?

I didn't just come here to
stuff pillowcases with ocelots.

I came here to solve a mystery.

Someone wanted you
out of the way

and those ocelots gone,

because someone wanted
this video to fail.

Oh, for Pete's sake!

Lil Blurp, before David and I
went on our "lil safari,"

I did some research
into the work

of your rival,
Lil Dronk.

Do you happen to know
who directed

that video of him
with the lion?

I do not happen to know.

Well, I checked the credits.
It's Riz.

‐He's also Lil Dronk's manager.
‐(all gasping)

What?
Riz works for Lil Dronk?

JOHN: And, Daisy,
your breakfast smoothie

was actually Lean,

a potent mix of codeine,
promethazine, and candy.

What?

You said it was
flaxseed and kale!

Riz drugged you,
so he could release the ocelots

and sabotage the video.

Yo, Riz,
what's your problem?

My problem is you should've
hired me as your manager,

not this old‐ass,
khaki‐wearing motherfucker.

Hey, watch it, sir.

At least Mr. Hunchman
act his age.

You 35 years old!

Wear a necktie, damn.

You tell him, son.

I‐I mean, Blurp.

Fuck all y'all.
I'm out.

RIZ: Peace!

Deploy the ocelots.

‐Go, go, go, my babies!
‐(ocelots snarling)

‐Feast!
‐RIZ: Ah, oh!

Ooh, that is not gonna end well
for Rizzy Fannypack Face.

‐Mm, they are bloodthirsty.
‐(ocelots growling)

Mr. H, will you direct
the rest of the video?

(gasps)
Yes...

if you do it my way.

LIL BLURP: ♪♪ Hey, Papa Zany ♪♪

DAVID: I gotta say, Mr. H,

‐this is an epic shot.
‐Thanks, David.

I was always a fan of
Busby Berkeley.

Say, Dad, I think
I solved another mystery today.

What's that, son?

No, no, turn around.
Look at the monitor.

This is‐‐
this is going to be emotional.

‐Okay.
‐I get it.

You see Lil Blurp as a son
because he needs you,

and, even though
you're my dad

and I love you,
technically,

I never really needed you.

HUNCHMAN: The young man
has tattoos on his face

and drinks God‐knows‐what
to avoid reality.

I just want him to be okay.

I hope that doesn't hurt you.

No, it's...fine, actually,
now that I understand.

MEG: Excuse me,
Mr. Hunchman?

My name's Meg.

‐Could I get a selfie with you?
‐Sure.

(quietly)
What's a "selfie"?

(vaudeville music)

(lively electronic music)

♪♪ ♪♪

‐(clear music)
‐CHORUS: ♪♪ Yes ♪♪