All language subtitles for Harley.Quinn.S04E01.WEB.x264-TG

Last season
on Harley Quinn...

I got my green on.

Batman created zombies instead of
going to therapy, for fuck's sake.

Joker became the mayor.

I went CEO at the LOD.

And Harley, she
joined the Bat Fam.

All right, y'all caught up?

Come on! I'm just
trying to...

Nerts, that hurt!

I am just
trying to drop off lunch

for my hot and
powerful girlfriend.

Ow!

I can't let good guys
into the Legion of Doom.

Hey, babe, is the Bat Signal working?

Uh, yeah, why? Wait, wait.

D... Does it not
work during the day?

Honey, you forgot your lunch.

So I thought it would be, like,
sexy if I, like, did a crime,

and then you and the
Bat Fam showed up.

Aw, I'm at the LOD
with your lunch, ohh.

God, we're cute.

So damn cute.

Shit, more guards are coming.

There must be, like,
a shift change.

Okay, good luck
with your first day.

I love you so much. I gotta go.

Love you more.

- Lex.
- There's my new SHE-EO.

Girl power and all that stuff.

You know, I got some
pretty big plans.

I'm starting with the
corporate rebrand.

What do you think of, like,
socially conscious evil?

Totally. Totally.

First, I thought I'd destroy
an oil rig safely, obviously.

And make the execs drink
all the oil, and boom,

high body count, zero
environmental damage.

All the deets are here in this
color-coded tabbed binder.

Mmm.

Well, you know what? I think we'd
start things off on the right foot

to do, like, a ceremonial handing
over the keys in front of everyone.

Can't. I'm going to my
launchpad on the roof

and then heading to the moon.

The moon. That's
cool. That's cool.

Hope the rocket isn't
shaped like a giant penis.

Am I right?

There is a scientific reason

the rocket needs
to look like that.

All right, this is you.

Lean in, disrupt, and
things of that nature.

It ain't
no thang.

Oh, shit. That was terrible.

Move, lady.

I want a perfect view of the doorway
for where the new CEO comes in.

I hope he's chill. I
hope he thinks I'm chill.

Shut up.

I want to be able to hear
the new CEO's footsteps.

Oh, uh, so I'm guessing nobody
sort of, um, let you guys in.

But, uh, surprise.
I'm the new CEO.

Fuck, it is true.

Look at her mug.

Frick.

She must have slept with Lex.

I hope
she gets pregnant.

Lex bowed to the
woke mob and hired a skirt.

Okay.

Why don't we all just, like, take
a seat and we can all discuss...

How you think we should stop

brewing the break
room coffee with beer?

Yeah, well, 'cause that
sounds fucking gross.

But listen up. The plan is
socially conscious evil.

Now, if you look
in your dossier,

you're gonna see how together
we're gonna make that happen.

Never.

If this folder wasn't literally
perfect for doing lines off of,

I'd throw it in the trash.

That's right, the trash.

Even though I know
this is recyclable.

If we wanted to
get bossed around by a lady,

we would get girlfriends.

This is so not
chill!

Oh, shit. That's a grenade.

Fuck.

"Wonder Woman's
favorite winter salad recipes"?

Oh, God. She has more
than one? Kill me.

Ooh, the Hottest Hotties list.

Such a fun issue.

I start a new gig in, like, 20.

Don't wanna show up early and
seem like a try-hard, you know.

The hell?

Devora Macklewaithe's
number three?

What makes her so hot?

Miss Macklewaithe has the
most beautiful clavicle in Gotham.

For sure, I mean,
whatever a clavicle is,

she certainly, certainly
got a nice one.

Oh, Professor Pyg, I can't be
seen talking to you, no offense.

Because I'm not a hottie?

Notties are people, too.

'Cause I'm a major
player on the hero scene.

Yep, me and Wonder Woman.

You know, she called spinach the
new romaine, but the old kale?

Uh, okay.

That old lady seems to be having one
heck of a time crossing the street.

I gotta go save her ass, bye.

It's a bird, it's a plane.

It's motherfucking Harley Quinn!

Hello?

Was my pose not dramatic enough?

I blame your very soft lighting.

Harley, it's
great to see you.

Oh, Captain Boomerang.

He knows his angles.

Okay, so what's the
plan? We kicking his ass?

I mean, it's Monday, so he's probably
at bingo at the senior center.

He loves a mature woman.

Ugh, ew.

We're just updating
our criminal database.

Yeah, we can't kick anyone's ass
until they actually do crimes.

Oh, great, great, okay.

What... What if we
go on Cleggslist,

and post a job opportunity
for "murderer",

then bash the skulls
of anyone who applies?

We're heroes.

We update records, do
paperwork and stay fit,

until the computer tells
us there's a crime.

Cool. Yeah, yeah.

Um, how about while we do that,

we get to know
each other better?

You know, my three
biggest turn ons are...

Harley, your frivolity
is not an asset here.

Geez, sorry for trying
to get a vibe going.

Ooh, now, that's good lighting.

My skin looks slick as a...

Sorry, I shouldn't say.
There are children present.

A pair of titties at a car wash.

You need to get the shades or I'm
gonna photosynthesize everywhere.

I did put in the request, but I
don't want to get your hopes up.

Because when I went into the supply
office, the clerk says to me,

all the Soviet era dental clamps
and industrial-size funnels

that I need for my plan
to work got checked out.

Who else would need those?

Okay, I know they're fucking with me.

Ugh, yes. At least I
know my outfit's here.

See, I'm gonna seize the oil rig

in, like, a crisp 19th-century
British Royal Navy Captain's uniform.

Ooh, that's fresh as hell.

"I'm a dumb boss."

- I don't hate the bottoms.
- Great.

Ugh, I mean, if this
gaggle of obtuse plebes

keeps cockblocking me,

I'm never gonna
get anything done.

I might as well be
the CEO of nothing.

Everything is just
like it was before.

I'm doing it on
my own, yet again,

just in a bigger office.

Maybe you need to put
your oil plan on hold

and disrupt the corporate
culture in this bitch first.

No, I... I... I don't
wanna manage people.

I just wanna do my...

What the... Fuck you!

I see your point.

Did Harley end up killing Sheryl
Sandberg in Jackson Hole last year,

or did she survive?

No, that was Andy Sandberg.

Okay, perfect.

I'm gonna spend
the next four hours

numbing my brain with
idiotic Lean In TikTok.

Ugh, this is so boring.

Fighting crime is supposed to
be fun and dangerous and sexy.

Oh, my God, look!

- What?
- Nightwing's a Hottest Hottie?

"With rare flare from his derriere..."

"Nightwing's radiant rump has
him flying in at number two."

Oh, I can't believe I know you!

Do you have a publicist? Is
it Wonder Woman's publicist?

God, this is so cool. But
what's with the pap shot?

I won't degrade myself going to
a photo shoot for that trash rag.

Yes! A crime to solve.

But you should consider getting
some tasteful nudes taken

while you're in
peak physical form.

Your grandchildren will
definitely want them.

Okay, guys, a dead
body's been found.

- We gotta go.
- Cool, a dead body.

Not so fast.

It's visitation
day at Blackgate.

And your papa awaits.

Ugh, I never get to see dead people.

Ew, oh, my God.

That's Mally Tomberson.

- Who?
- The, ugh! Only a huge Waynestagram model,

and heiress to the Old
Gotham Corn Factory.

Last night was the launch party
for her Hard Corn Water, hello?

Hello. You mean whiskey?

Legally, she can't call it that.

She explained it all
on her live stream.

God, you guys are so uncultured!

So, do you look for DNA? Dust
for prints? Seduce the bartender?

This cut's clean.

The killer could have a
background in surgery.

Another
body's been found

at the Hard Wayne's Gonna Fall
Ice Cream Pop-Up Experience.

Ugh, I'll handle it.

Should we send them
our ice cream orders?

Everyone says Childhood
Trauma Swirl is really good.

Ew, this place
smells like a hamster cage.

Oh, Mr. Pennyworth?
Young Master Damian?

I'm afraid you won't be able
to visit Master Bruce today.

So I missed the dead body
just to do absolutely nothing?

"Master Bruce"? Who are you?

Oh, I'm his butler, Alvin.

But I'm his butler.

Well, I'm his penal butler.

I must insist on seeing
Master Bruce immediately.

Oh, unfortunately, his DJ lessons
are running a wee bit long.

Now I must get back.

We have a call with the
CFO of Wayne Enterprises.

The stock prices
have leveled off.

Hopefully, we can avoid
the trigger.

Uh, I'm sorry? You're
on a financial call?

Oh, sweetie.

He runs every big
decision by me.

Ta-ta.

Hmm.

The thing
to remember about managing people

is they're inherently
stupid, needy and fragile,

which means they're
easy to manipulate.

Ugh, another ad? Gotta
get the pro account.

Is that my scarf?

Whoa, what's gotten into you?

I got all horned up at
a crime scene today.

You know what I think
would be superhot?

Role playing.

Okay, yeah, what, all right.
What do you have in mind?

- Okay, you're a super-sexy crime boss...
- Uh-huh.

And I am a sexually-pushy cop

who will cross any line
to get answers.

Okay, I like the sound of that.

- Who is it?
- Oh.

Who in your circle of
sickos is a surgeon?

Oh, eh, um...

Dr. Big Boobs?

No, not Dr. Big
Boobs, a real surgeon,

one with a fetish
for amputation.

Oh, sorry. Okay.

Sor... Sorry, Officer.

Um, it's Dr. Berkowitz.

Not your dermatologist.

God, the perp I'm
tracking's whereabouts

are unaccounted for from
1:00 to 2:00 a.m. last night.

Tell me who it is!

What, you're not into this?

Honey, are you trying
to get me to narc

on one of my new co-workers
through sex stuff?

Yes, I'm sorry.

I really want to figure out who did
it so I can impress the Bat Family.

And I thought you could just like,
I don't know, give me the answer?

Babe, I can't.

Listen, I don't even know what half
of those posers are up to, anyway.

They don't tell their one true
queen their devilish schemes?

Who's disrespecting
you? I will kill them!

Oh, that's so sweet.

You know, if we're
gonna make our new jobs work,

we do need to establish
some boundaries, right?

Like, I'll handle my work thing

so you don't have
to worry about that.

I got some fresh
ideas already brewing.

I love when you
make your idea face.

Okay, now I'm all
horned up again.

How about you're a super-sexy crime
boss who's had an annoying day,

and I am your
sexually-pushy underling.

Cater to my fragile
male ego.

Nope, he's dead, missing, hates me,
hate him, dickhead, dead dickhead.

What happened to him? Don't wanna know.

- Oh, this guy.
- You've reached Riddler's voicemail.

To leave a message, you must solve a
series of intricate mind-bending...

Ugh, he better be in a movie.

Oh, right. He's
dead too, delete.

Oh, hi, Harley.

- King, you busy? Great.
- Well, actually...

Do you know a villain who loves
hot models and slicing limbs?

I'm so sorry to cast
such a wide net.

Oh, Harley! Oh, you
know I'm squeamish.

I'm shocked you
called me about this.

Well, no one else picked up.

Well, you're a good guy now, so your
old friends aren't gonna help you.

Of course,
we're still pals,

but I am changing your name to
"Potential Spam" in my phone.

I... I don't wanna lose my
standing in the villain community.

Ugh, those pussies.

What, good guys can't
be amazing friends?

So, what you been up to?

Well, Tabitha and I are
about to find out...

Yeah. Sorry, King. I gotta go.

Seven, eight, oh,
that's number nine.

Nine healthy little sharks.

Oh, I'm gonna need to get a job.

Vegan D-nuts on me, boys.

Nonplussed reaction.

Ooh, maple leaf cinnamon.

Look, guys, I... I got a lot
of appreciation for this team.

And, uh, I get it.

You know, you're at your job, and
suddenly there's, like, this green lady,

like, all up in your business.

Totally hear that.

And I just want you guys to
know that I love feedback.

So If you do have a crazy
idea, shoot it over.

Ping it into my hear holes
and my door is always open.

We knock down city hall
and build a gladiator death ring.

Bitching, am I right?

Yeah, uh, totally bitching.

I create a force field,
we fill it with hot babes.

- And the cool thing is, they have to go out with me.
- Right.

Three words: cocaine,
zoo, disaster.

- Okay.
- Wait, wait.

I need three more words.

Electric, eels, high.

Ah, fuck.

Basically, we give a
bunch of eels cocaine

- and watch them fuck up shit at the zoo.
- Huh.

I need 'splosives,
lots of 'splosives.

-I wanna blow up a...
-This is great stuff. I love this.

Left the... The quantity empty,

so just to go nuts there.

Whoa, I feel seen, ah.

As I step away for some highly
cool and important training,

the people of Gotham
need not worry.

You are in capable
hands. The Bat-Fam's

got your back, fam.

And that was supposed to be a
reassuring message from Batman.

But with the recent uptick
in mutilation murders,

Gotham's left wondering,

will we pay the price for
the Bat Family's failures?

And will that price
be an arm or a leg?

So, where were you last night?

I told the story
a million times.

I was out to dinner
at this new restaurant

you'll never get
into, Bucket and Maup.

Oh, my God. No, wait.

That's where Martian Manhunter and
Grimes just got in a huge fight.

Mar-Man told Grimes that
he could never love her.

And she threw a bananas foster on
his lap, lighting his penis on fire.

I was sitting in the next booth.

Aw, jealous.

Don't be. My own
husband stood me up.

The only way to get him out of the house
these days is a celebrity golf tournament.

Whatever. Fuck him.

I was so bored that I live
streamed the whole thing.

That's it.

The other victims were
live streaming, too.

That's how the killer
figures out where they are.

Hey, uh,

do you think they'll find my clavicle
in time for the Hottest Hotties gala?

My dress
is made from ten live puppies,

and every day I don't wear
it, they get less cute.

"Miss Macklewaithe has
the most beautiful clavicle in Gotham."

Thank you so much.

What's wrong with your voice?

It's Professor Pyg!

He's picking off our
city's Hottest Hotties.

- Wait, what?
- I saw him at the newsstand.

And he was drooling all
over Devorah's clavicle.

It has got to be him.

God, I am so good at my new job.

All the clues are
just drawn to me.

Great work, Harley.

Now we need to catch him.

I have an idea, and
someone's gonna hate it.

There's my girl.

A clerk who knows how to
work. What's up, baby face?

Oh, wow, Ivy.

The guys in shipping
are gonna be pissed

they missed you.

You're the talk of the basement.

Love to hear it.

I need, uh, uh, 20 goons,
dental clamps and funnels.

Enough to channel about, like, 84 million
gallons of oil into the mouths of men.

Ooh, pretty sure those
84 million gallons of oil

are floating in the sea as
of about 20 minutes ago.

What? What do you...
That's impossible.

Oh, you didn't hear?

Bane blew up an
oil rig.

It's so funny.

I love Bane.

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

The fuck? I'm such a chump.

'Sup, boss.

Hey, what are you doing?

You're in the executive
women's restroom.

Never been a lady executive.

So the boys deem this
one dumpers only.

Ivy, what are you doing in the
executive women's restroom?

I'm the executive woman here.

Look at you! Whoo!

Isn't this bathroom the tits?

I come here when I pick up my
widow's benefits checks from HR.

- How are you?
- You know, just reaching a career low,

enabling overgrown goon
babies to destroy the world.

You know, it's customary
to just say, "I'm good."

Oh, you get to say a
long thing and I don't?

Hey, I don't make the rules.

Hey, not to pile on here, but
that stall's out of shit tickets.

Hey, Snowflake.

Never interrupt two women
talking in the restroom.

It's not Snowflake.

- I am not Snowflake. Hey, stop.
- Bup-bup-bup-bup-bup!

- Your fly's open.
- Bitch.

- Dickless prick.
- Ugh.

Hey, Executive Woman,
cut the wallowing.

Who cares if you're a cool boss?

You're not cool, but
you're Poison Ivy.

Oh, okay. Thanks.
I guess... I mean...

Remember, you brought a beautiful
frozen woman back to life

with your weird science powers.

You can do whatever you want
with the Legion of Doom.

There is a place for
everyone else's opinions.

And it's in that
tiny, waxy paper bag

that's inside that
little metal mailbox

in that stall with
my dirty tampons.

You know what, you're right.

Everyone can get on board or they can
fuck off to that tiny tampon mailbox.

There we go.

Yeah, yeah. And you're not
supposed to be in here either.

- Love that.
- God, you're a bulldozer, you know that?

Do you want to be my assistant?

Hmm, not really.

Well, then, I'm gonna have to
change the locks on this bathroom.

I'll do it.

I am Umberto Argento,

the famous Italian
photographer without an accent.

Where is the subject of my art?

Ugh, again. Why do
I have to do this?

Oh, we're live streaming this Gotham
Monthly photo shoot to lure Pyg here.

I
understand the plan.

Why do we have to
actually take the photos?

If Pyg shows up and we're just
holding each other's fucking nutsacks,

he'll know it's a trap.

Now, let's get that
ass to clap, baby.

Hey,
I finally did it.

I gave Gotham Magazine the exclusive
on my, ugh, juicy caboosey.

Oh, yeah.

You're three spritzes deep
and it's sunset on the Rialto,

when your love calls your name.

Turn around and smolder.

I said smolder! Gorgeous.

Okay, now you've lost your job
with the olive oil factory,

and mama tries to comfort you,

pulling you into
her ample bosom.

Okay, now serve me young coed

studying in Naples
for the summer. Yes!

All right, where's
the dead body?

Oh, come on.

Were the lights supposed to go out?

Feels like someone's about to
make their big entrance, huh?

I'll
find the generator.

Almost
got it. There.

- Professor Pyg?
- Nightwing?

Not cool, dude.

Okay. Everyone's plans,
schemes, plots, on the table.

I already rented a wood chipper.

Uh-uh-uh.

No more blowing up shit
and pathetic cash grabs

and problematic ways
to date hot babes.

So played out, done.

Basic as AF. Mm-mm-mm.

And from now on,

everyone's working
together on my stuff.

Socially conscious evil.

Anything that isn't a part
of that is not gonna happen.

Okay? All my shit,
all day long.

We're not gonna let
this bullshit happen!

This is racist against men.

What's with the
raggedy-ass Andy's?

They're Dollotrons. Poor, lost souls
brainwashed to do Pyg's bidding.

I wish we could help... Ugh!

Gross, don't touch me.

Get him!

She's
not the boss of me.

Ooh, watch out.

Yeah, rip his
fucking arm off, Ivy!

Do you think I'm scared of you?

You go, boss!

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, yes!

This
is all my fault.

I have to save Nightwing.

Oh, no. My system
seems to be malfunctioning.

Zeep, zap, spark, spark.

I don't think
so, you tin cunt.

Wow. Ow.

Ow, ow, ow.

Ahhh!

You'll never beat me.

Oh, God, the vegan doughnuts.

Sorry, my
landlord called.

He's finally going to put in
a carbon monoxide detector.

Whoa, what happened here?

Hey, Bane. Your
next big evil plot

is to clean up a shitload
of oil from Gotham Harbor.

But I just
'sploded that oil!

I'll get a bucket.

What's the perfect human
without a perfect bootay?

My creation is mere moments
from being realized.

Holy shit! A hot Dollotron?

Harley! Yes!

I love my ass. Okay, I
admit it. Now, help me.

I knew you cared.

Drop the scalpel, Pyg!

My coworker's wild,
perfect-party ass

does not belong on a flesh doll.

It, honestly, it
belongs in a museum.

Too late. This rump
is a singular beauty,

- and it's time to cut the cake.
- No, no.

Got you!

Ah.

It's gonna take a
lot more than some...

Well, looks like
I saved your ass.

- What... You killed him?
- Oh, my God, is he dead?

Cool.

Ivy has pledged to take the Legion
in a green-conscious direction,

which sent LexCorp
stocks soaring.

The same can't be said
for Wayne Enterprises,

whose stocks are in a
free fall after the news.

We've hit the trigger.

Fuel up the jet.

I'm going to Gotham.