All language subtitles for Harley-Quinn-S04E06-WEB_ENG

Today, we honor our angsty
king, taken too soon.

If Batman were here,
I'm sure he'd echo

the sentiments of
rap-rock legends

and sensitive poets Linkin
Park, but for copyright reasons,

I am not allowed to say them
as this is being broadcast.

I am sending around
a donation basket.

If we reach the 15k needed

for the rights by the
end of the funeral,

I will sing.

In conclusion, thank you
for mourning with us,

even though being within a
few feet of the Bat Family

puts you in danger
of being murdered.

And now a few words from
the girl who always knows

the right thing to say, Batgirl.

Heroes are just like everyone,
and sometimes they die.

Okay, easy-breezy Batgirl,
never lets us down.

Okay, the end.

We're not even close to
15k. Thanks for coming.

Please enjoy some
soup. No seconds.

- Miss Harley.
- Alfie!

Oh, thank God you're here.

Everyone's relying
on me to be strong,

and I am freaking out, man.

Damn! Barnyard on this bitch
is dank as hell, Alfie.

I'll send you a case
to remember me by.

I won't be returning
to the manor.

Once White Collar Wine earns me enough
money to execute a white-collar crime,

I'll finally be sent to fancy
prison with Master Wayne.

But I need you to...

Oh, my God! They're
coming for me!

Ahh! I've been hit!

Ha! I destroyed your
sad little soup truck.

Toyman! Did you
kill Nightwing?

No, I just hate noodles,
and I wanted attention.

Even third-tier villains
are coming for us.

If I get murked by some dumb
asshole like Crazy Quilt,

I'm gonna need you guys to go
to your graves with that info.

- We need to split up.
- But we're stronger together.

And a bigger target.

She's right. I'm gonna call
my mommy to come get me.

I'll move in with
Alysia full-time.

Okay. Okay,
silver linin',

I'll move back in with Ivy.

I mean, I miss waking up to the sounds
of her tearing apart a cardboard box

that's taken up all the
space in our recycling bin.

Well, I guess this is it.

To Nightwing, who, in death,
proved what he never could in life,

that the Bat Family
is weaker than ever.

Wow!
Nightbitch is dead.

You love to see it.

Another hero down! And
on your watch, Ivy.

It's a good thing
I'm in the tub.

- Because I'm soaked.
- Ugh!

I should call Harley.

No. The most important thing is to get
your condolence statement out there.

Bring us our phones.

Veronica, you're starting
too look too amazing.

Get out before it
turns you crazy.

- What should I write?
- Ahh! You already posted six hours ago.

You are on top of it.

How long have you known?

Wait. What? Let me see that.

"Thank you to everyone who's been
reaching out about Nightwing's death.

As I sit here in
my power caftan,

I feel grateful for the guidance

of my dear mentor, Lex Luthor."

I did not write that.

Who has access to your account?

Oh, my God.

My PR team. My PR team!

They need to run
things by you first.

My team always gives
me three options.

Funny, sassy, horny.

Wait, you don't give all
your passwords and your PINs

and your keys to your PR team?

The only person who has my PIN

lives in a cage under
my kitchen table.

Shit. I... I need to have
a chat with the Jons.

Uh, wow, girl. Where
would you even be

without the Evil Women in
Business Collective.

To us!

Thank you, uh, for
gathering for this family meeting.

I have a big announcement.

It's muy importante.

So embarrassing

Just speak full Spanish
or full English.

- My bad, lo siento.
- Dad!

Kids, Bethany, mi amor,

I'm going back to villainy!

Ay, pero, this is a big change.

The kids just got used
to the chore wheel.

- Screw the chore wheel.
- What about our health insurance?

I'll blow up any hospital
that sends us a bill.

Will you blow up my PE coach?

Can I have some poison gas
for my science project?

There's a cashier
at More For Lex

who's never told me
to have a nice day.

So it's settled.

- Who wants to go steal some soft serve?
- Yeah.

Ive? Ivy? Guess
who's moving in?

Frank, what... What
are you doing here?

I thought you lived
at the office.

I did until those Jons
tried to get rid of me.

They sent me to
some fucking place

called Bialiya
to be "repotted."

Luckily, I escaped by
eating a truck driver.

The Jons? Ugh!

I don't even know what's
going on with Ivy anymore.

I mean, wait. Does she
still have red hair?

Tell me everything.

Ooh. The NDA they made me sign

is as strong as that truck
driver's will to live.

I shouldn't have said
anything about Bialiya.

Uh, hey, Frank, I'm gonna
wait up for Ivy, okay?

Bitch! Wake up.

You sleep-stabbed
all the pillows.

- What? No, I didn't.
- Then you kicked the TV.

I was watching Bobby Flay
make a goddamn turkey burger.

You opened up every closet...

and
you screamed for 60 seconds.

You know how many closets
are up in this bitch?

Then
you shaved Catwoman's favorite cat.

Then you tried
to use me as a mannequin

to see all of
Catwoman's earrings,

even though I kept telling you
I don't have fucking earlobes.

Man, I've never seen
sleepwalking like that.

Sleepwalking? Wait,
wait, is Ivy here?

No, she just dropped in and
changed from her spa blazer

to her business blazer.

Then she tripped over
that box on the way out.

She was so goddamn pissed
at whoever left it there.

Don't worry, though.
I covered for you.

She didn't even
notice I was here?

That's how covering works.

You're welcome.

Do you think Ivy ordered
the hit on Nightwing?

Mr. Snart, are you trying to get
top secret information from me?

Mm.

Oh!

Oh, welcome-back-
from-paternity-leave. sheet cake?

I feel so supported.

Okay, that makes more sense.

Don't you have
some IT junk to do?

I do.

And I'm very happy the LOD
has a childcare program.

We don't have a
childcare program.

I made sure of it.

Oh, edgy.

Very modern.

I wish I had a single
shred of self-respect.

Why?

What's with all this hubbub?

That shark stole my wish.

Daddy's coming!

My babies!

Oh, look at these pups,
suckling on my cocktail weenies.

I forgot what a good dad I am.

Oh, I am so sorry.

I really thought I could
be a single working dad

like one of those romcoms

where it's challenging at first,

but at the end of a fun montage,

you balance it all.

Look me in the eye.
You can do this.

Dads can have it all.

So, how did you do it?

Great question. I'll show you.

Ugh!

Oh, oh, I... Ivy. Um,
you're back early.

Yeah, go ahead and
give me my passwords

to my socials and my laptop.

Also, why do all of my
bras have underwire now?

Excuse me. If there's no
wire, it's a bralette.

Wait, there's more of you.

Yes, there is so much to do.

Ta-da!

Jon, tell this
boss bitch her new schedule.

Your line of business
corsets is about to drop,

so you'll be appearing on
Good Evening Bludhaven.

And you'll need to take photos
with the Poison Ivy doll

once they're reissued with
less realistic buttholes.

But, yay, top of your agenda, judging the
first annual Lil' Poison Miss Ivy contest!

That's' right, sis. You're
ready to appear with children.

It's the coup de grace for PR.

If you hook 'em when their
brains are still mushy,

you'll have a little Ivy
Army to debone frackers,

and we'll be the most
powerful PR team in the world.

Yeah, so I'm not gonna be
doing a kiddie pageant.

- Oh, we see.
- No pageant, no problem.

Uh...

That's it. Those
fuckers are done.

I can't believe Nightwing
had a tracker he kept hidden from us.

I can't believe he hid it under
a fake rock by the back door.

Rest his poor basic soul.

Hey, but, you know, at
least we have a clue, right?

I mean, whoever he was following

may have to do with his murder.

Hey, repressy-finger-smashy, can
you stop assaultin' the keys?

Your bottle of sadness
is kind of distracting.

Your girlfriend just posted
celebrating our colleague's death.

Every celebrity has to post about
any other celebrity's death, okay?

Lucius, how long will it take
to get into that tracker.

Again, it's not a tracker.
It's the tracker's receptor.

It's going to show you
where the tracker is.

Oh, God, they found us. Help!

Damien, this is your mother.

I sent my associates
to procure you.

Go with them.

Sounds like my momma needs me.

You gals got this? Deuces.

Oh, damn. We're
dropping like flies.

Okay, it's just you and me now.

We should really talk, just jam
and say how we feel about all this.

- I'm good.
- Babs, come on. This isn't healthy.

You know what's not healthy?

Trying to act like
everything's normal

when your coworker's girlfriend
killed your other coworker.

Ivy did not kill Nightwing.

She's the head of
the Legion of Doom.

There is no way she didn't
have something to do with this.

Uh.
Yeah. Okay, good.

Just keep letting those
emotions out, girl.

Even if you don't mean
everything that you're saying.

- My mug!
- Not the tracker!

The power of senseless violence.

It's at the Legion of Doom.

Sorry, babe. I'm in a meeting.
I can't talk right now.

- I love you. You look great.
- Wait!

Hey, looks like you guys
hit Mama Mac's for lunch.

Very dope. Hey, insider tip,

they give free mozzarella sticks
every time a hero dies, so...

Oh, now you're interested
in what we're up to?

You treated us like real shit.

And everyone knows about
the free mozzarella sticks.

No, I-I-I know.

Look, I'm sorry, I fucked up.

I fucked up your debut, and I should
have been focusing on you guys,

not sexy beverage collabs.

You can't have our
leftovers, okay?

All right,
let me level with you.

I really need your help
to get rid of my PR team.

You're the only people I trust
to help me. Except maybe Bane.

But no one knows
where he is, so...

That sounds challenging for you.

But we remain very wounded
by your negligence.

Could you please just
help me now? And then,

we can work on the
forgiveness part afterwards.

- Whatever, fine.
- Yes! Oh, my God. Yes.

Hey, Terra. Could you,
like, get us some privacy?

Okay, how are we gonna
pummel these PR pricks?

There you are, my
esteemed PR team.

I've had a change of heart.

- Oh?
- Hmm. Have you?

I have decided to host the Little
Poison Miss Ivy contest after all.

- Yes!
- Yeah, I realized it's in creative alignment

with my brand intentions.

Yes, go off, Queen.

And I see how it
will help me leverage

my identity as a,
uh, thought leader.

- Ooh.
- My girl.

And since this will be my
biggest public facing event yet,

I'd like to order a...

- Uh-huh, yeah...
- Oh, don't you fuckin' say it! Oh!

Step and repeat!

Oh!

I have no idea why
moms are so miffed.

Everything you need to raise
a kid is in the workplace.

Look!

This thingy does
white noise, and...

spits out precious memories.

And what used to
tickle Babs to death?

Gory crime scene photos.

Oh, the memories.

Oh, thanks.

I can't remember the last time

I was able to take
a shit by myself.

All right, where's
your girlfriend's office?

Uh, whatever happened
to detective procedure

that you guys are so
fucking obsessed with?

We're following the tracker.

We don't know where it's
gonna lead yet, okay?

Whoa, Harley.

Were you in on
killing Nightwing?

A long con?

I dig.

Psh! These fucking guys.

- Obviously, I'm not.
- Zip it.

What's that sound?

What the fuck?

Oh, this has been very
helpful for me today.

Well, what can I say?
I've got the royale touch.

Is that allowed?

For dads it is.

Since they're sleeping, I'm gonna
force myself to take another shit.

Babs! What are you doing here?

Where's the tracker?

Inside voice.
I just got them down.

Oh, Babs.
Stealing a buzzer from a baby.

You always were a jealous child.

Why the hell do you have this?

Christ on a cabbage!

I found it in a parking garage.

It's a Mama Nacaroni's buzzer.

See? "MN"?

It's not a buzzer.
It's a tracker.

"NW." Nightwing?

Ugh! It's covered in drool.

Now we can't test
it for forensics.

Look at you.

A detective like your old man.

Everything she knows,
she got from me.

Shut up!

Whoa! Chill!

That Bat Family does not
destroy personal property.

Oh, I see. You don't want me to
destroy your girlfriend's office,

even though she
destroyed our family.

Ivy's a villain, okay?

But I'm telling you, she
would never do this to me.

Let's see how long it
takes her to confess

after I beat the
shit out of her.

All right,
I'm gonna go talk to Ivy.

You have fun. Mingle,
maybe flirt a little.

Hey! Where are you going?

Hey! Yeah, you! Pour me a shot.

Ivy! Ivy, hi. Listen.

Tell me you didn't murder
my coworker, please.

Uh, sorry, one sec.

Harls, not a good time.

Just answer the question!

Did you have anything
to do with Nightwing?

Okay. Wow!

Hello. Do you really think
that I would do that to you?

I... I don't... I don't
know. I don't know.

- Well, I didn't.
- Oh, thank God.

But, honestly, babe,

if someone who works for me did,

then, I don't know,
good for them.

You know, I run
an evil business,

and Nightwing would
be a pretty big get.

- Ivy!
- Honey, I can't deal with this right now.

I have to go judge, a
children's beauty pageant.

But you always say
kids with good posture

give you the creeps.

Well, will you look at
this? Tied up, taking shots.

You're a chip off the old block.

How about I take you
to Mama Nacaroni's?

Someone just gave me a gift card

'cause they saw me being an amazing dad.

It's Macaroni's. M.

Well, I'm pretty sure Nacaroni is
how they pronounce it in Tuscamy.

God! You don't know the name
of my favorite restaurant.

And you didn't even call
me when Nightwing died.

Oh, I'm not teething, you idiot.

Now leave me alone!

At least I got eight little
reptiles that love me.

Hey, Toyman.

I wanna play.

We have gathered at the
base of this sacred goddess,

to decide which of these
precocious children

is most likely to be
the next Poison Ivy.

Hey, thank you so much.

Seriously, thank
you. It's too much.

Looking out at
all these young faces,

I'm reminded of a simple truth.

That none of you will
ever be like Poison Ivy.

I was created by a
freak accident in a lab,

and through some
fucked-up miracle,

I got superpowers
instead of dying.

That, combined with being
a straight-up genius,

is what makes me, me.

Also, I'm objectively gorgeous.

So, guys, give up.

Not gonna happen.

- Oh, my God. This is a publicity nightmare.
- Cut her off!

- Any questions?
- Even if these girls don't grow up to be you,

surely they won't grow up to
be special in their own way?

No. Yeah, I'm scanning
them right now,

and they're forgettable at best.

Say that again to
my live audience.

Oh, yeah. Happily. Yeah.

So, while we're live, guys,
everyone look underneath your seat

for a commemorative,
Poison Ivy doll,

whose final design I
personally approved.

The doll's not ready yet.

Mommy, why is this butthole so realistic?

And one more thing.
Fuck almond milk!

No!

I know, I'm just, like,
no good at this PR stuff,

so I guess you're just gonna have
to resign in disgrace, right?

Uh...

Eat cake. You piece of shit!

Toyman and I are in a
weight loss contest.

I'm only having
sugar on Saturdays.

As a fan of bar fights
and emotional releases,

I am loving this.

Oh, hell no!

Thank you for using salad.

Guys, this seems like good of
a time as any for your debut.

Everybody,

I'd like to introduce
the Natural Disasters.

Time to rock.

Yes.

Yes, yes. Now spit in my mouth.

Ugh.

You look a little inflamed.

Get it, girl.

Uh, I need to work
on a catchphrase,

but here comes my thing.

Oh, letting your underlings
fight your battles for you?

The optics are bad.

You need us.

Your greatest accomplishment
was getting a nut milk

to accept me.

Wee!

We were scaling up to oat.

Part of a five-point plan.

Oh!

Oh, my goodness.

Look at you, cheering for
a giant man exploding.

Gosh! Maybe you little freaks
can be like me after all.

Babs. Hey.

I talked to Ivy, okay?
She didn't do it.

Yeah. Then who
did? Santee Claus?

Did someone
order a rum and Joke-er?

Well, I'm a little rusty.

Whatever!

The fuck is this municipal
dickwad doing here?

I'm here to announce
my return to evil.

I know how much you've
all been missing me, so...

I brought back one
of my classic hits.

Killing a member of the
Bat Family.

I killed Nightwing!

Rum and Joker.

Rum and Joker, rum and Joker,

Rum and Joker. Suddenly,
I want a drink.

You son of a...

What... What, am I dreaming?

What the fuck?