All language subtitles for Lazor.Wulf.S01E06_English

♪ La, la, la ♪

♪ La, la la la, la‐la la la ♪

♪ Da da da da ♪

♪ Da da da da da da ♪

♪ Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ♪

Funding for this program
is provided by

The National Drank Council,

The International
Beverage Council,

Your Local Thirst Quenchers,

and viewers like you.

"I’d rather drink ditch water

than suffer another drop
of savory lemonade" ‐‐

Oliver Wendell Holmes.

At the dawn of the century,

the city of Strongburg
was the site

of the largest citrus‐related
battle in history.

It forever changed the landscape
of beverage menus

and the lives of
the very few people involved.

The Islander whose invention
started the war.

The young woman
who was too eager to fight

because she was without the
guidance of her father figure.

The tough‐as‐nails general
who kept one ear

to the ground
and the other to the streets.

The wealthy but very, very,
very stupid heir

to a beverage empire
with everything to lose.

And finally, the one wolf
who laid down her life

and her edges
for soft‐drink freedom.

Hello. My name
is Lamont Brickwater.

And along
with some special guests,

I will take you through
The Battle of the ADES.

At one point in time,
the town of Strongburg

was once known for
its endless fields of lemons.

The town was settled
by the Horse Family

when it was just a mud pit.

But after generations of
shitting in the same spot,

a lemon field grew.

And from it, the most delicious
lemons the world had ever known.

Thus began the Horse Family,
the number‐one supplier

of all lemons
and lemon‐related products,

most notably,
their savory lemonade

that replaced sugar
with bone broth.

All I remember about the
Horse Family is the bad lemonade

and the stupid idiot
in charge ‐‐ Robert, a horse.

I believe it was
Robert A. Horse.

No. It was Robert,
and he was a horse.

Lamont: Robert A. Horse
was likeable enough, I guess.

But what he lacked in smarts
he also lacked in intelligence.

So when his family returned to
Kentucky to become race horses

and left him the farm,
he needed a business partner.

Can N. Wulf
was a man of the skreets

whose biggest skrength
was his skrength.

He ran the Horse Farm
with an iron fist.

And also a tire iron.

Yo get back to work,
son!

What you think this is,
a rest stop?

We works around here,
ya heard?

Together,
these unlikely partners

and kind‐of‐homeys thrived.

But there was one problem.

I already said
that [Bshh] was bad.

So bad that the citizens
of Strongburg started to talk.

A letter sent
to Can N. Wulf

dated "sometime in July"
reads...

Signed, "The Streets."

[ Whistles ]

At this time, lemon production
in the North

was at an all‐time high
due to Eli Yeti

and his invention
of the Lemon Gin,

a machine that cleverly
and expertly

extracted juice from lemons.

Can N. Wulf wanted to give
the skreets what they wanted.

But mostly, he wanted
to make lots of moneys.

So he decided to move up North.

And just like that,
the partnership came to an end.

Can N. Wulf
entered the sweet‐lemonade

business with his new partner,
Yeti.

And Strongburg was divided into

Northern and Southern
territories

along the Lemon Line,

meant to keep the savory
out of the North

and the sweet
out of the South.

And it did.

Until it didn’t.

[ Whinnies ]

Good workers, I bring you
salty refreshments.

Form a line, please, before the
bony bits settle on the bottom.

We good.

But you’ve been working
in the sun all day.

What kind of owner ‐‐
I mean master ‐‐

I mean boss would I be
if I let you go thirsty?

[ Slurping ]

Hey, you there!
That’ll be all, Cousin Seth.

Giddy‐up!
‐Bye.

[ Slurping ]

Mmm, sounds delic‐‐
I mean, yuck!

Sweet lemonade
in the South?

Who gave this to you?

Lamont:
Muskitt Wulf was Strongburg’s

most skilled
and fearless smuggler.

For 20 years, or maybe weeks,

Muskitt Wulf had been
traveling back and forth,

moving Robert’s superior lemons
to her older brother,

Can N. Wulf, in the North,

and also supplying
sweet lemonade

to the people in the South.

In a time when most wolves
ran with the pack,

Muskitt Wulf made it clear
that her only allegiance...

was to herself.

How many times must I tell you,
bone broth is good for you.

For the record,
that has never been proven.

I will not let you violate
100 years of tradition.

And I will not
disappoint my father.

Robert did not take
this violation

with a lack of Vaseline.

Robert A. Horse dumped

every drop of sweet lemonade
in the South.

Like a [Bshh] idiot.

Lamont:
After a week of recovery,

Robert drafted
a strongly‐lettered letter

to his former
business partner.

Robert A. Horse:
"Hi, Can N. Wulf.

I found sweet lemonade
in the South.

I’m not angry.
Just [Bshh] pissed.

If we could please ‐‐

Can N. Wulf: "[Bshh] off.
We at war.

Signed, General Can. N. Wulf.

Grr, motha[bshh]a!"

[ Camera shutter clicks ]

Lamont: The situation was sour
for both sides.

In The North, Can N. Wulf
lost his lemon crop

suddenly and expectedly.

With no lemons
coming up from the South,

Can N. Wulf turned to
his partner for a solution.

Yeti set out to create
another sweet drink

without using lemons.

He tried PotatoAde.

MonkfishAde.

And my personal, least favorite,
the Ade of Cotton.

Yeti worked around the clock
for 11 minutes straight

before Can N. Wulf said...

Yo, yo, you know what?

Let’s just fight, man.

"Let’s just fight, man" became
the first slogan of the war.

In the South, Robert,
an already nervous horse,

was beginning to [Bshh] bricks

due to the constant
fear of attack.

Meanwhile, people grew angry
without access to sweet lemonade

and the sales plummeted
through the roof.

Robert wrote his father
for help.

But he would later find out
that his daddy had been shot

after cutting his leg off
on his own jar of lemonade.

Of these affected by the loss
of sweet in the South,

Robert’s workers
had it the worst.

They forced patrons
of Old Esther’s,

where they only served
savory lemonade.

One young woman
tried to unite them.

The Young:
Brothers and sisters,

now is the time for rebellion
against the master.

We deserve our rights
and our free lives!

All: Yeah!

Yo,
where’s this kid’s father?

Lamont: Muskitt Wulf returned to
he South with sweet lemonade,

never one to back down
from a smuggling challenge.

But also, she had traveled
to Bakersfield

to get her hair did
and was unaware of the war.

When the workers explained that
they had no lemons to offer,

Muskitt Wulf decided she had no
further business in the South.

But wait!
You have to help us.

I can’t help you guys
escape this place.

It’s too risky.

Well,
we don’t want to escape.

We just want the war to end
so we can go back to

picking lemons
and dancing in the fields

like some real spinnas.

Y’all want to keep
doing free labor?

‐Free?
‐Yo, well, he gonna pay us.

‐He better pay us.
‐He promised.

‐Yeah!
‐Uh‐huh!

‐That’s right!
‐Yeah! Fo’ sho!

For any of you Comic‐Con
and cheesy otaku mother[bshh]

out there who think we glossed
over the unpaid labor thing...

That’s ’cause we did.

I’m sorry. There’s just nothing
I could do for you.

I need to find a new hustle.

Our taste buds are at stake,
and all you care about is money!

End the war!

All: End the war!
End the war!

End the war!
Ayeeeee!

Thus was born the second
slogan of the war ‐‐

"End the war, ayeeeee."

Up North, General Can N. Wulf
prepared to fight,

something he’d been good at
from a young age.

His court‐appointed therapist
described him as

"Mean, very mean,

Like Laurence Fishburne
playing Ike Turner mean.

Not quite Sam Jackson mean,
but a wolf who scares me."

Strategic combat was still new
to the general,

as was the title general.

‐Yo, what’s the plan, bro?
‐Plan?

We’re gonna run up in there
and [Bshh] ’em up.

That’s the plan.

I mean, you could
try to negotiate.

You want me to set up a meeting?
‐Yo, when you have a meetin’,

you got to have
a follow‐up, son.

And you know
I hate following up.

We move on them spinnas
in the morning.

Lamont: Later that night,
Muskitt Wulf

penned a text her sister
Bayonet Wulf,

who was away at university
studying

botany, French,
and pyrotechnical [Bshh]

The letter gives us a glimpse
of the emotional side

of this conflict.

Muskitt Wufl: "Yo, sis.
You know I’m a lone wolf,

but I find myself caught
between two sides

that want to hurt each other.

I don’t care.
But I also might?"

Lamont: Bayonet Wulf replied...

Bayont Wulf:
"Sister, I’ve studied your
exact case countless times.

You need to ‐‐"

Oh [Bshh]

Lamont: The next day,
the army assembled at dawn,

but waited for Can N. Wulf
until 11:45 AM.

Together, they set out
for The Horse Farm.

Silly little fruit.

Dancing in our minds
and hearts.

Lemonade brings death.

Now, this journey takes minutes
because we failed to

accurately depict
the size of Strongburg,

and it’s really quite small.

Can N. Wulf takes the workers
by violence

with a surprise first attack.

♪

What in tarnations
is going on?

Oh, hey, Can N. Wulf!
It’s me! Robert!

I know who you are.
Now run your farm.

Uh, no!

‐Yes!
‐Unh‐unh!

‐Yes!
‐Not happening!

‐Yes!
‐No!

This went on
and on and on...

‐Unh‐unh!
‐Yes!

...and on again.

‐Yes!
‐Not happening!

And one more time
after that.

Then prepare for defeat!

Hold the line!

[ Both farting ]

But before Can N. Wulf
could "[Bshh] shit up,"

in swooped
our unlikely hero.

Wait! Wait!
I have a solution!

Lamont: The Country Time Lemon
Pledge proposed a compromise

in which The South continued
manufacturing savory lemonade,

but instead
called it vinaigrette.

Yo, that’s good [Bshh]

Many would later realize that
vinaigrette was already invented

and did not
include bone broth.

But Robert truly was
a stupid horse.

And for the first time
in some number of years,

sweet and savory
were able to coexist.

What the ‐‐
Hold up a damn minute!

How you gonna sign
a peace treaty without a war?

Yo, she right.
This ain’t the Civil Agreement.

This is the Civil War!

The war’s last battle
was a quick one.

Ah! Aah!

Can N. Wulf learned
that the cannon

on his back was functional

and quickly
destroyed everything,

including his own army.

And the entire farm.

So decided to open
a deliqadanci.

Yeah, I remember it
like it was yesterday.

It was [Bshh] up.
I loved it.

Yo, Wallace, get me
some lemonade,

and none of that
Newman’s Own bull[Bshh]

Muskitt Wulf managed to escape
the battle almost unscathed,

and with wenches.

Without edges, she retired
from smuggling that day.

Legend says she joined a group
of free wolves

called the "Carbonation Cult"

and was renamed
"Mist of the Sierra"

or "A Copyrighted Soda."

Together, they set off to find
the mythical green lemon ‐‐

the lime.

Sounds like some
made‐up bullshit.

And it probably is.