All language subtitles for Not Dead Yet S01E03

Oh, my God,
did you see the calves

on the new Sparkletts guy?

I snuck a picture and
I've already sent it to you.

You are such
a good friend.

I know.
Thank you.

Okay, so,
how's the wedding?

Oh, there is a poppy seed
on the groom's side.

Yeah, it's right--
Some people say

that we're too close,
but I-I don't get it.

It's too deep. Alright.

I will see you at lunch. Bye.

Oh, no.

Eww. Floss much?

Nell?
Nell Serrano?

Piper Ashford. Mm.

We were the same age.

Yeah,
except you got old.

And you died.
I know.

Super sadsies.

So is this where
you work?

Is this, like,
a factory of some kind?

It's a newsroom.

News is kind of like TikTok,
but for people who can read.

I love
your tiny little cubby.

It's kind of like
the teachers' lounge

that you used to
eat lunch in.

Howdy, Ace.

I'm sorry.
I'm trying out new greetings.

It's a work in progress.

Of course you're friends
with this goober.

Anyway, I was wondering
if you got my e-mail

about the influencer.

Actually, I went to high school
with her.

Do you happen to know
how she died?

That's not important.

It's super tragic.

She was taking a selfie
and she fell off a cliff.

Ha!

Oh, that is so perfect.

Yeah, it was.

I managed to post it
on the way down.

I'm worried this job
is making you callous, Nell.

No, you don't understand.
Piper was a nightmare.

She was cruel and shallow
and conceited and...

seems like she still is.

Since the two of you knew
each other, go ahead

and take more time
with this if you need to.

Oh. Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

I'll be done with this one
real soon.
Real soon.

Okay,
so, here we go.

This is what we call
a "cursory obituary."

It's, uh, superficial,
just like you.
Hmm?

And it's just
a few brief sentences

in the back of the paper
right next to the denture ads,

because that is
all you deserve.
Rude!

And I don't want to spend
any more time with you, so--

Same, here, bit--
Boom!

Ha ha. Ha ha.

Oh, you have a little
poppy seed in your teeth.

Oh. Yeah.

May I?
No, Tina!

What?
Ew. You cannot put
your fingers in my mouth.

You can put your fingers
in my mouth.

I don't want to put my fingers
in your mouth.

Okay.

♪

- Captions by VITAC--

Ugh, I hate when Ben
packs me chickpeas for lunch.

- Sammy?
- Hmm?

Trade you for your burger.
You're insane.

And you haven't stolen
a single one of my fries,

so what is going on?

Ah, I'm just kind of having
a weird day, you know?

I-I wrote this obituary
about a girl

I went to high school with,

and it's just got me...

ugh, thinking about that time.

I loved high school.

As you can imagine, at a school
for the performing arts,

I was kind of a big deal.

Were you?
I even played
Racetrack Higgins

in our school production
of "Newsies."

Not only did that role ignite
my passion for journalism,

but also, the local paper raved
that my performance was,

and I quote, "competent."

I mean, I also loved
high school,

except for I wasn't
one of the popular kids,

so I was kind of
just friends with everyone.

That's what all
the popular girls say.

I should know because
I say it all the time.

What?!
Come on.

Okay.

I really just couldn't wait
till high school was over.

Just felt like a waste of time.

I'm really happy those days
are over.

Are they, though?

I feel like an office
is just a high school

with more gossip
and fewer accidental erections.

That kind of is true.

We all sit
at our own desks,

seeking approval
from other people,

and then
you've got the cliques.

The geeks, the jocks,

the cool seniors,
teacher's pet,

the weird loner,
and then there's always

that one super-intense
Queen Bee.

Nell?
Oh, God. Yeah?

I'd like to see you
in my office,

but please don't follow
for at least 30 seconds.

I don't want people to think
we're walking together.

One, two--

You don't have to count, babe.
It's okay.
Yeah, no.

Are you sure?
Yeah. It's fine.

How would you like to write

your first-ever
front-page obituary?

Are you serious?

Yes.

I would.

I promise not
to let you down, Lexi.

Okay, great.
This is the assignment.

Why?
I don't understand.

I-I turned in
this obit already.

Oh, my God.
You're, like, obsessed with me.

Yes, you did write it already,
but it was--

oh, gosh, what's the term?--

stanky garbage.

I like her. Mm.

What's the first thing you
notice about Piper's Instagram?

She mangled the spelling
of "entrepreneur."

She had
four million followers.

Two million more than
Bryce Dallas Howard.

No big deal.

Followers that will be driven
to the newspaper

if you write a warm
and thoughtful obituary.

Mm-hmm.

Oh.
Hmm?

When I stop talking,
it means the meeting is over.

See? Mm.

Oh, that makes it
less personal.

Still hurtful, though.

Ha ha.
Ooh!

- Oh!
- Aw.

Take it, Dennis.
Three-pointer.

Or you can just throw it
back to us.

♪

You okay?
Oh, no.

Did Tina flip her eyelids
inside out again?

Someone hung a basketball hoop
in the bullpen.

Oh, that's cool.
No, not cool!

I don't like basketball.

Duh. You thought the Utah Jazz
was a Mormon swing band.

Karl Malone
is a bass player's name.

LeBron, think fast.
Whoo!

Aah!
Ooh.

That's very good.
Ah, thank you.

We have fun.
We have fun here.

Piper: You know
what you should write about?

Huh?
My memorial.

It's gonna be
the most fire funeral ever.

The whole Piper Posse's
gonna be there--

Kaitlyn, Mckenna,
Mckenzie, McKaitlyn.

And you'll finally be able
to go to a cool party.

I go
to a lot of cool parties.

Escape rooms don't count.

Hey, Cheugy, there's
some lady here to see you.

Me, I tell my squad
not to visit me in the office

because unlike you,
I have a dope work ethic.

Mason out.

Is that your mom?

No, that's my friend.

She looks like a mom.

Yep. Still waving.

You left your sweater
at the bar the other night. Mm.

I was worried you might get
a little chilly.

And I packed your
favorite snack, wine.

Aww, thank you, Cricket.

Today might be the day
I start drinking on the job.

Are you okay?

I got
the front page story,

which is a huge step
in my career,

but the woman
that I'm writing about

was a mean girl
at my high school,

and I'm just-- Ugh,
I'm just kind of starting

to get her negative voice
in my head again.

Do you know why mean girls
are so mean?
Hmm?

Because deep down inside,
they are insecure.

You think so?

Jenny Witt tormented me
for two years

because she was jealous
of me.

On the other hand,
I did steal her boyfriend.

Noice.

Uh, thank you, Cricket.

I should probably
get back to work.

Okay.
Thank you, thank you.

Bye.
Bye.

I can't believe
you're in charge

of the last thing that's ever
gonna be written about me.

I don't want an obituary
that sucks, okay?

It won't suck.

Although, writing about you
is like trying to put

a positive spin
on the Hindenburg.

Number one-- No one understands
your weird references.

And, "B," if you don't
figure this out,

you're totally
gonna boof this,

just like you did
in the ninth grade.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

You don't remember your speech
from freshman year?

As editor
of the Bulldog Gazette,

I understand that
fiscal responsibility is--

Pbht!

...is
a profoundly solemn oath...

You suck, Nelly Fart-ado!

Go ahead, laugh.

One day, I'm gonna be
running The New York Times

and hanging out
with Josh Hartnett.

Interesting.
I do not remember that.

Yeah, you didn't exactly reach
your career goals, did you?

And I don't think
that's Josh Hartnett.

You know, I don't care
what you say.

I'm a strong,
successful journalist.

Maybe you fooled these dorks
into believing that,

but I know the truth.

You're still
insecure Nelly,

and you know you're not gonna
be able to pull this off.

Oh, my God.

I need a break Oh.

Oh!

Classic Fart-ado.

Pbht!

Hey.
Hmm?

Could you read this obit
that I'm working on?

Sure. It's not like I'm trying
to do anything important,

like beat
Yusheng Du's world record!

Great.

Piper Ashford died?
You knew her?

I follow her.
Of course you did.

She thinks deforestation's
super sadsies.

I think Al Gore said
the same thing.

Huh.
Huh.

I'm sensing some sarcasm
there, huh?

I grew up with Piper.

She was a real butt-munch,
but now, luckily,

I understand that she was,
uh, just jealous.

"They're just jealous of you"
is an empty platitude

that parents tell their kids
to make them feel better.

I had
27 childhood bullies,

and they were all
very well-adjusted.

Neat. Great.
Can you please read this?

It's for
the front page.

Hmm?

It's great.
Really?

It's cold and dry.

It's like a list
of bullet points

without any human emotion.

I connect strongly to it.

Awesome. Thanks.

Why is
your door closed?

Oh, my God.
Are you hiding?

You're hiding!

Is this about
that basketball hoop?

Sit.
What?

Let me tell you a story
of a little boy...

...whose rugged good looks

were often compared to that
of a young Denzel Washington.

Ooh.
Yes.

One day, said boy happened
upon some neighborhood youths

who were playing a game
they called "street ball."

They invited him to join.

You know I-I know you're
talking about you, right?

The boy was frightened. Oh.

After all, he had never
thrown a ball before.

Like, ever?

There were no sports
at the Hirsch Academy

for Performing Arts.

But his acting teacher
often said,

"New life experiences become
new acting experiences."

So the boy
knew he had to try.

I have a meeting that starts
at 2:00, so I should--

The boy grasped the ball
in his hands,

aimed it towards the hoop,
but when he threw it, somehow,

against the very laws
of physics,

it went straight up, came down,
smashed his glasses,

broke his nose,
and at the sight of blood,

the boy threw up
and fainted

right there
on the basketball field.

It's technically called
a court.

This is about more
than just an office game.

Eventually, I'm gonna have
a little kid, and they'll go,

"Daddy, you wanna shoot
some hoops?"

And I'll have to say,
"No, thank you.

Daddy's
not very athletic."

And then my kid
will laugh at me.

And I will literally dissolve
into a puddle of shame.

Oh, my God.
No, Dennis.

I'm so sorry.

I didn't realize how scary
this is for you.

Hey. Hey!

Why's the door closed?
Get in here.

Oh. Ooh.

Let me tell you the story
of a little boy

who came upon
some neighborhood youths.

Oh, okay, so this is
a very long story.

It's okay.
I'll fill her in later. Okay.

So, what is going on
with the obit?

Oh, God,
I'm having writer's block.

I mean, how am I supposed
to write something nice

about a girl that used
to call me "Nelly Fart-ado"?

Ah.

That's a good one.

I mean, I used to actually
come up with nicknames

for people
all the time in high school.

Like, there was
this girl called Sarah.

I called her Betty.

How did you get Betty
from Sarah?

She was always sweating
all the time,

so we called her Sweaty Betty,
and then it just became Betty.

That is extremely mean.

What? No!
She loved it.

She laughed
until she cried.

Oh.
Hmm.

Was I...
A bully?

Like, a bad one.
Yes, definitely.

I need to atone
for that sin.

Too bad you can't go back
in time and not be a dick. Mm.

But I could help you get
over your fear of basketball.

I'd rather have cash.

Then when I'm done with you,
nobody is gonna call you

"Shaquille O'Squeal,"
"Larry Turd,"

"Tragic Johnson"--
Mama, no.

Do you hear yourself?
Can you please stop,
por favor?

It's too much.

Lexi on P. - Nell Serrano,

could you come see me
in the conference room?

Nell Serrano
to the conference room.

When did she install
a P. A. system?

Last night.

Nell,
I wanted to check in

on how the front-page
obituary is coming.

It's, uh, going okay.

Yeah.
A little slow, I guess.

Ever since you started,
you have been begging me

for a seat
at the dinner table. Mm...

Now here I am with a chair
pulled out for you,

and you are off pooping
in the guest house.

- Mason!
- That's my name.

Whatchu need,
baby girl?

How would you like to write
a front-page obituary?

Yes.

Who's the subject?
Hold on. One second.

Uh, you're giving him
the assignment?

He's a freaking intern!

I was the editor of the paper
at Dartmouth, you old crone.

Silence!

When I was a child,
every night,

my father would
tell my brothers and me

that he only had enough energy
for one good night hug.

Whoever made the best case for
it would win his prized embrace.

This explains so much.

People work better
when they're in competition.

Therefore, both of you
will write Piper's obituary,

and whoever does a better job
will win the front page.

Think of it as though you're
both competing for my hug.

Although I will never
touch either of you.

Cricket: She turned it
into a contest?

And now Mason's going
to Piper's memorial,

so I have to go, too.

Ugh, and that stupid,
negative voice in my head... Mm.

...is only gonna get louder.

You know what's great
about getting older?

Hmm?

You have heard everything
that those voices have to say,

and you just
stop listening.

You know, my mom said that
you shouldn't allow yourself

to become a pessimist.
Piper: Oh, my God.

How could I have had faith
in you?
There are
some beautiful things...

I thought you would
pull this off.

You're a grown woman and you're
taking advice from this lady?

...negativity
is the enemy of creativity.

Why don't you tell
your mom friend

that this negative voice inside
your head is actually a ghost?

I'm sure she won't think
you're psycho at all.

Because deep down, you know
that you're a sad little loser

and now you can't even
write one single obituary.

But you are a beautiful,
kind, lovely person.

Face it, Nelly.
You peaked in high school.

Would you just stop?!

I'm sorry.
I was just--

I was
just trying to help you.

Sorry.

No, I-I didn't--
I--

It's, uh--
It's not you. I...

I'll-- I'll see you later, okay?

♪

♪ It's about damn time ♪
Look at all the sponsors.

Aw, my very last
Instagram post.

Oh, there's the photo ops,
and there's the omelet bar.

You know, I curated
all of this in my will.

Yeah, you mentioned that,
like, seven times.

I better see if they set up
the refection yurt.

Well, well, well.

Look what
the cat threw up.

Why are you dressed
like Tony Soprano?

Oh, don't be a hater
'cause you're jelly.

The front page is mine,

so you might as well go home, Grandma.

Ooh, churros!

♪ Mm ♪

♪ That's how I feel right now ♪

Cricket:
Hey, is this seat taken?

♪ I'm way too fine
to be this stressed, yeah ♪

Oh.
Oh.

I knew this was the last place
you wanted to be today.

So I decided to come give you
some emotional support.

Thank you, Cricket.

My career might be ending,

but at least I got
my friend with me.

Yes, you do.

♪ It's about damn time ♪

Okay. Alright.
She is on there.

Now tell me--
What is the ultimate goal?

To play Jean Valjean
on Broadway.

And to conquer your fear
and make a basket.
Yeah, mm-hmm.

I was gonna say that,
but the first thing--

Aah!

Alright.

Now, you listen to me.

When I'm done with you,
this entire newsroom

is gonna see
you drain one from downtown.

I really like their costumes.

Focus!

In.
Let's go!

Like a fish.
Let's go.

What the
was that?

Now take the shot,
take the shot!

Close. Mm-hmm.
And set.

Okay.
♪ This is the end ♪

Oh!
Oh.

Very close.

Okay.
We don't need to dribble.

You want to put your hands
in the same position

as Mariah Carey
doing a vocal run.

That I understand.

Okay.
Okay.

♪ I need it all
'cause I am running over ♪

♪

I mean, we could just burn
the entire building down.

Ah. Of course this is the most
perfect funeral in history.

Oh.

I'm not so sure sponsorship
is what makes a good funeral.

What the heck
does she know?

She's probably
still on Facebook.

If the Piper Posse were here,

they would have loved
that sick burn.

Where are they?

If you ask me,
it's-- it's kind of sad.

And not the way memorials
are supposed to be sad.

Check that out.

When Monty died,
everyone wanted

to make
a speech about him.

Hm.
I mean, it went on for hours.

Piper may have had
four million followers,

but I'm guessing she didn't
have a lot of friends.

I have friends.

I have tons of friends.

They're probably
just parking.

You know what?
Maybe you're right.

I mean, I-I don't think she had
any real friends.

Not even the Piper Posse.

Are you high?

I rushed Delta Gamma
with McCauley and McKendra.

Yeah, she ruled
over those girls,

but it was only
for their approval.

Not because
they were friends.

Even before social media,
Piper only had... followers.

Oh.

I can't believe I actually
feel sorry for her.

Please.

♪

Huh.
I'll be back.

Alright.
What are you doing?

Where are you going?

Hello?

Excuse me, e--

Excuse me, everyone.

Hey. Hi.

Uh, I'm, uh, Nell Serrano.

I went to high school
with Piper,

and it is a little odd
that I'm the one up here

because she was my bully.

Piper:
No, I was not!

You shut your ugly face,
Fart-ado!

Uh, when I was young,

Piper seemed confident
and popular,

but now I can see
another side to her,

a side that was probably
just as insecure as I was.

As much as we try to curate
the way people see us...

no one knows what's
really going on inside.

You know, we can't be reduced
to a hashtag or a selfie,

because we're all
so complicated.

Some of us spend our lives
running from our fears

before gathering the courage
to face them.

Some of us are still trying
to fit in with the cool kids.

And some of us are trying to
atone for the kid we used to be.

All those flattering filters
on social media made

Piper seem like
a perfect goddess,

but, uh, she had--

She had a negative voice
in her head, too.

The funny thing about that mean
and internal voice

is that it only hurts

when we start
to believe it for ourselves.

That's why we need a kind
and loving voice

that can tell that cruel voice
to shut the hell up.

I really think
that Piper deserved

to have a kind voice in her life

that told her
that she was good enough,

even without
all these sponsors.

So, wherever she is,
I hope she has that voice now.

♪

#PiperGotHerWings.

Cricket: Yes!
Whoo! Whoo!

Woman: Yes!

♪

Woman #2: Yes!

You don't have to do this,
you know.

No, this is gonna keep
happening to me.

I have
to slay my dragons.

Okay.

But I just want you to know
whether you make it or not

is not gonna make you a better
friend or father or person,

because you are perfect
exactly how you are.

Wow.

You've come a long way
from the accidental bully

you were in high school.
Thank you.

Yes. You're welcome.

And you know what?

You're right.
I don't need this.

Let's go get donuts.

Yes! Can do that?
Yes.

Please. Okay.
Come on. Bah.

You made it!
You made it!
I made it!

Oh, my God!

Suck it, LeBrum Germs!

Whoever you are.

Whoever that is.

Well, Mason, good news.

You have officially joined
the ranks

of everyone who
has ever disappointed me.

Nell,
you get the front page.

Your pathetic little victory
means nothing

because my best days
are ahead of me

and you've already peak--
Peaked?

Yeah.
I've heard that one before.

It doesn't
really bother me anymore.

Well, that's no fun.

Mm.

What a dingus.

You know he took five swag bags
from my memorial?

By the way, I should
probably tell you

that what you said
about me was...

nice.
Thank you.

So, uh,
I guess this is goodbye.

I just have one more thing
to tell you.

Oh?

You really put the "bitch"
in "obituary."

Smell ya later, Fart-ado.

Smell ya later, Piper.

Mm-mm-mm.
Look at you.

You got your obituary
on the front page.

Girl, I'm proud.

No, it really
is well done.

I'm not crazy about
the headline, though.

"Dope Influencer
Piper Ashford Totes Dead."

That was, um, Lexi, uh,

saying she wanted to be
"down with the kids."

Wait, her name
was Piper Ashford?
Cricket: Mm. Mm.

Please tell me you called her
"Pooper Ass-Turd."

Where were you
20 years ago?

I wasn't born. Okay.

Thank you.
Oh!

Okay. Thanks.
Okay?