Original subtitles

- Morning. One for you. - Oh! Thank you.

One for me.

That is a very large coffee.

It's actually 13 shots of espresso.

It's been rough.

I'm having a hard time not bringing work home with me.

Have you had your carbon monoxide monitor checked?

- I smell gas. - Yeah?

You afraid you're gonna die more?

And what do you know about robotics?

Fun fact-- the word "robot"

comes from the Czech word "robota,"

which means forced labor.

At least one of us doesn't have to worry about heart disease.

For now.

I just don't think writing obituaries is good for my head.

Ugh, I totally get it.

- Yeah. - No, I don't. I'm sorry.

I love my job.

Oh, don't be sorry that you're the lifestyle editor

and you have this massive office

with light and oxygen and dignity.

Also be glad you don't have the weird intern

just following you around, glaring at you.

Oh, yeah, Mason.

Thinks he's better than everyone

just because he went to Dartmouth.

Pretty confident for a guy

that gets dropped off by his mom every morning.

His generation never got bullied in high school.

- They're invincible. - Mm.

Hey. Hi. I'm--

The other intern who I will delight in defeating.

Um, okay.

Um, but I'm not an intern.

Then why'd they give you my office?

- The storage closet? - Yes, intern.

Must be because you're like 25 years older than me

and they felt bad for you.

You do know I get paid to work here.

Doesn't mean you can steal my closet.

The battle of the interns is on.

Only one can survive.

Again, I'm not a-- Oh. Mnh.

Never mind.

SAM [sighs]: I wish I loved anything

as much as Tina loves salads.

You have two children.

- Yeeeeahhhhh. - Mm.

Stop the presses!

Does she know that's not a real thing anymore?

When she says that, it usually means that her dad has called

and the numbers aren't good.

I just got off the phone with my father,

and the numbers for the paper

- are not good. - Yeah.

That is creepy you speak Lexi.

Readership is down.

We need to find a way to get eyeballs on us.

We need that clickety clickety buzz buzz.

- Mm? - Topical stories

- that are socially relevant. - Ah.

You! You're young.

What drugs are you on? We could write about that.

Claritin and an asthma inhaler, as needed.

Yeah, well, that's going to change, okay?

We'll do an exposé.

We're gonna enroll you at Euphoria High School.

Somebody wire this kid up!

Lexi, Lexi, babe, remember,

Euphoria High School is not a real high school.

Oh, right.

Thank you.

The point is we need better news, okay?

And good stories can come from anywhere.

Tina, leave the salad alone!

Come on, who's got something?

Please don't look at me. Into the shadows.

I'd like a chance to pitch.

Oh, no.

I need young and relatable.

You write about old and dead.

Ouch.

Unless that translates to something else?

It doesn't.

- Ouch. - Mm.

Knock, knock.

Wow.

- Huh? - This is still depressing.

So you want to tell Lexi I can do more than write obituaries

and end my nightmare?

Girl, you know I would if I could, but I can't.

But cheer up-- I have a little something special for you.

A better smell for my office?

- No, that's in the walls. - Yeah.

I have your next assignment.

Motivational speaker Jane Marvel

from her series Unleashing Your Inner Tiger.

This helped me come out to my dad.

- Mm. - Although, I think I got

some of the jargon wrong

because he thought I was joining the Marines.

Anyway... happy obit writing.

"Elevate your confidence and become a majestic tiger

in 36 powerful steps."

Jane Marvel.

- Hello, tiger. - Oh.

Who's ready to get the success they want

and want the success they get?

Oh, boy. M-kay.

So, what are you?

Are you my spiritual advisor?

- Hasta mañana, Becky. - Okay.

Are you an angel?

Keep it real, Vernon.

- Maybe I'm the angel? - That makes more sense.

Good luck with that MRI, Serena.

Thank you.

Nope, I've had it with you ghosts.

- You are not coming with me. - Ghost?

- Oh. - Oh, whoa, well...

that's a perk.

Oh! What's next?

Look, lady, this is how this is gonna go.

You'll follow me around, annoying me for a day or two,

until I write your obituary.

They'll print it in the back of the paper

- where no one will read it. - Oh.

I'll have a mild panic attack about my life,

- and then you'll move on. - I've been in weirder spots.

Luckily for me,

I've recently made a friend who owns a wine bar.

So I'm going to go there,

start at Chardonnay and work my way to Zinfandel.

Oh.

- There you go. - Cricket, I love your place.

- Aww! - It's beautiful.

It's got you, it's got ambience,

it's got alcohol.

You know, Monty and I met wine tasting in Spain.

- Mmm. - We always dreamed

- of opening our own place. - Mm.

We did, he died, and here I am.

How are you holding up?

- I'm all right. - Yeah?

All of our customers have been so kind and loving.

That's sweet.

Girl, it is getting on my nerves.

- What? - No, I--

I appreciate the sympathy, I do,

but I just wish people would stop tiptoeing around me,

you know, and just be real.

I can't believe you did that--

Thank you all so much for coming.

- Ohh. - Oh, we're very sorry

for your loss.

Just know that grief comes in waves.

Oh, damn it, Nell.

Not you, too.

It's a lovely metaphor.

- Grief is like the sea. - Enh.

- Whatever, Cricket. - Enh.

Rise and shine!

Oh!

- God! - Oh!

Before I am sent to that jungle in the sky,

I have decided to make you my last disciple.

No, thanks, I'm good.

We did not get up to give up.

Your work habitat was pretty bleak,

so I'm hoping your home life is better.

Oh, yes! Peloton. Ha ha!

Do not underestimate the power of exercise in the jungle.

Do you know that the panther travels 20 miles per day

doing a zig-zag pattern?

- Do panthers eat Froot Loops? - Uh, hmm.

Morning, Nell.

Good, you're married.

We can skip ahead to disc three.

Reminder, we made a deal that you were gonna walk Arthur

by 8:00 a.m. if you're gonna live here.

An adult roommate. That tracks.

I'm glad you brought up the rules.

I'd like to make an amendment

to move the Peloton out of the dining area

so that we can do a proper kitchen table.

Why? There's plenty of places you could eat--

in your bedroom, or you could eat on the couch

if you put a blanket down.

You could even eat in the bathroom if you're a monster.

Or the breakfast bar if it wasn't so covered

in your weird little piles.

No, these are important legal briefs, okay?

I'm working on a case.

Don't put the bowl on the handles, please.

My job is important, too,

but you don't see me hogging up all the eating area.

Really? Are you trying to block construction

of a minor league baseball stadium on a marsh that's home

to the endangered southwestern willow flycatcher,

which controls insect population around waterways and wetlands?

I could if I wanted to.

Nell, I'm trying to save something that's alive--

I'm not writing book reports about dead people.

- All right, have a nice day. - Mm-hmm.

Are you really gonna let that tall piece of broccoli

walk all over you like that?

I'm not letting him walk all over me.

He's on the spectrum,

and honesty is part of his personality.

Mm.

I watched a TikTok about it.

- Hey! - Hey!

I got us salads, huh?

I thought we could have lunch in your luxurious office.

I really wish I could,

but Lexi scheduled a pitch meeting with all the editors,

and she had some lobster flown in.

She thinks that expensive food will really motivate people.

And it does.

But I'll sneak you some lobster, okay?

Euphoria Kid! You're coming, too!

- A nickname already. - Oh!

Oh, Sam, these pants are fabulous.

- Come in! - The intern is going?

But he's just an intern!

Looks like you're stuck in the bullpen

with the salad eaters.

Ugh. Can't believe Mason got invited.

Cheers, everybody!

- Cheers! - Cheers!

When I started at the paper, I had so much momentum.

God, if I hadn't moved to London with Phillip,

I could've been in there, too.

I'll say to you what I said to Dermot Mulroney--

doesn't matter that you could've

'cause you didn't.

Dermot and I are on different paths.

Oh, I-- I--

Oh, God.

And by the way, I'm getting really tired

of listening to dead people.

Then do something about it.

Oh, come on, you heard Lexi,

she isn't interested in my ideas.

Do you think that the tiger just waits for a chubby baby

to come wandering into the jungle?

No! Of course not.

It saunters into the villages,

and it snatches one from the mother's teat!

Well...

You know...

When I heard about the case that Edward was working on

about saving the southwestern flycatcher,

I immediately thought that it would make a great feature.

Yeah. Write the article.

It's a win-win-win.

You get a new job, I get my last triumph,

and you don't have to hang out with ghosts anymore.

Screw it.

Jane, make me a tiger.

Okay, this will be good.

You know, it's been a while

since I've done some meaningful writing.

I can do this, right?

"I can do this, right?"

If I wasn't a ghost, I'd smack you across the face.

Mm.

You just need a boost.

- Hit "play." - Okay.

The jungle-- nature's proving ground.

Kill or be killed.

What is your jungle?

Could it be your office?

Your bedroom?

- Your church? - Okay, wait.

How-- How long is this?

17 1/2 mind-blowing hours.

I don't have time for this.

I'll just give you the broad strokes.

Step one-- Dreams are just wishes.

Set a goal and do the work.

Step eight--

A no is just a yes that doesn't know it yet.

Councilman, I'll ask again--

how much of the city's tax credit

is going to fund the stadium?

Ugh!

I can't work like this.

Are we gonna score some coke?

Oh, I-- I was talking about my workspace.

Oh!

- Don't move. - Huh?

Why are there more screws than holes?

Step 17-- When you feel small, make yourself big.

Ooh, do you have any thick maxi pads?

I don't see how that's even a--

- I knew it. - Go get them.

Huh?

Congratulations!

You can move on to disc two.

What's happening?

I'm writing an article about your case.

Well, the southwestern willow flycatcher thanks you,

but why the hell did you move my bike?

Because I live here, too.

And if you can have a stupid bike that doesn't go anywhere,

I can have a Flurskydur that I get to eat breakfast on.

It's difficult having a conversation with you

when you look like three kids stacked on top of each other

trying to sneak into an R-rated movie.

You know, disc one Nell would just take your honesty crap.

Well, now I'm gonna be honest with you.

You have too many dumb rules and unreasonable expectations,

and you are super annoying to live with.

Noted.

Oh.

Well done.

And now it's time for the final step--

exploit all your resources.

I mean, this is a very bold choice for a Wednesday.

I'm trying a thing.

You're trying something.

- Hello! - Cricket, yes!

I want you to meet my very best friend, Sam.

Hi.

She helped me get my job at the paper.

Well, I have to thank you for bringing Nell into my life.

She wrote the most beautiful obituary for my husband, Monty.

Oh. I am so sorry for your loss.

But, remember, when one door closes,

another window opens.

Oh. Mm. Thank you for that.

You're so welcome.

- Mm-hmm. - Empathy is my superpower.

- For sure. - Yeah.

So, I wrote an exposé

on the corruption around the ballpark

going into the wetlands,

and it's the best thing I have ever written.

Uh...

I want you to show Lexi.

- Nell. - You heard her!

This is the kind of journalism she wants.

And you guys are friends, yeah?

You speak her language.

You just got this job writing obituaries.

Why are you trying to rush off and do something else?

Two minutes!

That was a two-minute plank.

I really can't explain it.

I just need to do anything else.

See, I love you, but it just sounds to me

like you're trying to skip some steps.

Oh, she doesn't get us. You gotta cut her loose.

You're right. I shouldn't have brought it up.

No. The article is no big deal.

Let's drink our lunch.

All right.

We'll find another way.

Hey, Tina, who's in charge of uploading

the, um, articles to the paper's website?

Mm.

Wow, that's a really thick salad.

Thank you.

Everything has to go through the section editor

who then sends it to the Internet upload engineer.

I don't think I've met them yet.

- It's Mason. - He helped Lexi fix the font

size on her phone this morning,

and now she thinks he's an I.T. god.

Hey.

Oh, you look oily.

Yeah.

I went a little nuts on the hot butter yesterday.

Mm.

Really took a toll on my body.

- My bamboo sheets are ruined. - Gross.

But seeing the look on your face

made every clarified sip worth it.

Actually, that's why I'm here. I mean, I--

I really want us to stop competing with each other

and start supporting each other.

Why?

Cool, we have a deal? Awesome.

Now, I need you to upload an article

that Dennis is too busy to upload,

but he totally wants uploaded.

And, uh, this feels great. This feels good.

I'm glad we're friends.

- Clearly you're lying. - What?

I won't do it.

Unless...

Okay, just say it. What do you want?

$5,000 and a Miata.

- No! - My office back.

- Deal. - Yesss.

Yesss!

Ow!

Oh, it has been a pleasure making you less pathetic.

Yeah, and if you're the last dead person that I talk to,

it's been weird.

Aww! I know.

Oh, ka-boom!

- Ooh, yes! - We did it!

- I'm back, baby! - Yeah!

- What have you done? - Huh?

Lexi wants to see us in her office.

Because she read my article?

And loved it?

And wants to give me a promotion?

And some lobster?

Mnh. All sales of Unleash Your Inner Tiger

are final.

Your article has been taken down.

What you did was completely egregious.

One mistake, and we could have been sued.

Also that jacket is gross,

and you smell like summer rain.

It's my shoulders.

Nell, Nell, Nell.

Do you spell that with an "N" or a "K-N"?

What is that?

This is my book of chances.

I keep a tally for each of my employees

and how many chances they have left before they get fired.

How many do I have?

- Five. - Ah.

Nell, you had one.

That makes five sound pretty good.

We'll always be friends.

- All right. - Wait, wait, wait, wait.

A few years ago, I moved away and I screwed up my life.

And I want you to know that I really appreciate this job,

but since I've been writing obituaries,

I've been weirdly stuck in my head

and I haven't done my best work.

I know I could be more valuable to this paper

as an investigative journalist.

Hm.

I don't think I follow.

Lexi.

What Nell is saying is that she thinks

she can give you the clickety clickety boom,

and if you take away that last chance,

she won't be able to prove

that she can give you the zip to the zap-zop.

Now, that I understand.

Why didn't she say that in the first place?

Sam, you get eight more chances.

Can I just use one of those chances

to say that Nell is a really great writer?

Hm. Well, she must be.

I've been getting a lot of e-mails to the editor

praising her obituaries.

- What? - For some reason, you've really

connected with our readers.

What? Wait. Really?

Yes. And most of them say the same thing--

that it really seems like you actually know

the person that you've been writing about.

Which is why I need you to do your job.

Unless, of course, you don't want it,

and then I can just go right back here and--

No, no, no, she wants it. Nell, nod.

- Oh. - Up and down, there we go.

Let's go, let's go. Thank you.

Oh, you know what? Did you ever think about

putting together a book of praises?

Did you ever think about making a book of bad ideas?

Oh.

Thank you.

Thanks for saving my ass.

I just-- I--

I can't believe you were gonna give up

- one of your chances for me. - Ah!

Are you kidding? Her kid bit my kid.

So I actually have unlimited chances.

- Nice! - I know, right?

I guess I--

I just get so caught up in what I'm not doing

that I don't realize I'm doing something... good.

Yeah, you gotta do that sometimes.

- Yeah. You do. - I do?

It's like you don't think you're far enough along,

so you just jump into something else.

You just did it with this.

And you kinda did it when you dropped everything

and moved your entire life for Phillip.

So maybe it's time to just, like,

be patient and enjoy where you're at.

Here? This place?

Yes, here in this place, you know, with me.

Look, I may speak Lexi,

but you know my first language is Nell.

Love you.

Oh.

You're welcome.

For what?

You almost made me lose my job.

Or did I make you want the success you got?

You're exhausting.

Five out of my six ex-husbands

said the same thing.

I'm genuinely excited to write about you.

- Ooh. - Yeah.

Let's start with how you first realized

you had this talent.

Oh, great story.

So, I did one semester of zoology

at Arizona State and had parents that withheld love.

Oh.

Hi.

Let me move my Flurskydur.

- Thanks. - Yep.

I'm sorry I said you were annoying.

It's fine.

It's better if people are straightforward with me, anyway.

Oh, my gosh.

My girlfriend says I'm annoying all the time.

She also says that obituaries

aren't book reports for dead people,

because they offer closure and comfort,

which I never really thought of, but I guess is true.

Yeah, um, I'm starting to see that now, too.

I'm gonna clip out.

Okay.

If we're gonna live together,

I think it's best that we work on our communication a bit.

I'm down with that.

Hopefully it'll help me better understand

your irrational and erratic mood swings,

also your obsession with tables.

You're not gonna let the table go, are you?

Autistic people just hate tables now.

- Really? - No, I'm joking.

I beg you, please,

stop getting all your information from TikTok.

But it's just-- it's so quick and trendy.

- Hey! - Hey!

There she is, my favorite new customer.

Edward, I'd like you to meet my friend Cricket.

Oh, it is lovely to meet you.

I heard your husband passed away.

I literally just told you not to say anything.

That must suck. You're still fit. You're young.

You've got a lot of years left alone.

Well, maybe 20.

Edward! Cricket, I am so sorry.

No, really, I love it.

Finally some honesty.

Plus, he's right, I've still got it going on.

But here you are, very alone.

He's dead. He died.

Yes, it's devastating.

- It's a total waste. - It is!

You're pathetic, ya old bag.

Nell, the woman just lost her husband.

- I thought we were doing a-- - Thought what?

Oh, screw you guys.

He died.

- Ah, don't you-- - He did!

You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?

You know what?

Captions by VITAC--