Original subtitles

Some Cheerios, little bit of Kix,

a ton of Bran Flakes, since nobody's gonna miss this garbage.

Is it my hangover or does it smell like ass in here?

You're smelling my entry for the Young Entrepreneurs Contest.

Winning will make colleges super horny for me.

Steve, you don't have to go to college.

You can just buy the sweatshirts.

I mean, this one has my vomit on it, but you get the idea.

My product is homemade ethanol people can use instead of gas.

Okay, have fun. Mommy's gonna go pass out in the bathtub.

Can you sign this parental supervision form?

Principal Lewis promises

he won't use your signature to steal your identity this time.

Isn't this parent stuff usually Stan territory?

- You're my parent as much as him, right? - Probably more.

I'll give it the old John Handycock.

- What's next? - Nothing.

You can go back to nursing your hangover.

All right, parenting accomplished.

Now to accomplish some electricianing.

- Mom, I really don't think you should... - Steve,

I have an electrical engineering sweatshirt from MIT.

Mom, are you okay?

Let's find out.

My God.

I think my wrist is pregnant.

Good morning, USA

I got a feeling That it's gonna be a wonderful day

The sun in the sky Has a smile on his face

And he's shining a salute To the American race

Boy, it's swell to say

Good morning, USA

Good morning, USA

- What the hell? - It's me, Stan.

And I'm finally fixing that dang shingle.

No way. This I gotta see.

After years of procrastination, this pesky shingle shall be fixed.

The shingle.

Fixed.

I never thought this day would come.

When our grandchildren ask where you were at this moment,

you can say you were slightly in the way.

It's a big day for me too, actually.

Steve chose me to be the parental supervisor for his school project.

Francine,

Steve only chose you because he knows you won't challenge him.

- What do you mean? - Well, it's like I'm the tough teacher

and you're the easy A. The "A" is for "absentee parent."

Stan, jealousy is a terrible look on you.

Okay, you go supervise then.

Okay, I will.

Hey, watch it!

Where are you numbskulls off to in such a rush?

Like anyone with a pulse, Francine,

the three of us are huge fans of iconic watermelon-smashing comedian Gallagher.

- Isn't Gallagher dead? - What? No, are you crazy?

So, when we heard the G-man's tour bus was passing through town,

of course we dropped everything to cheer him on.

I was supposed to have an emergency appendectomy.

Who cares? We're wasting time.

To the street corner where Gallagher's tour bus will briefly pass by.

Prepare to be supervised!

That's basically another word for help. I looked it up.

No!

My ethanol isn't fermenting right.

There should be carbon dioxide bubbles coming out of the airlock.

- Why aren't you bubbling? - Bubbles are easy.

We'll just blow into the jug with a big old straw or...

I got this, Mom.

You can get back to doing...

Honestly, anything else besides helping me. Dealer's choice.

But I wanna help.

But you already signed my supervision form

and you clicked the pen closed.

You must be exhausted.

- Let me help or I rip this up. - Fine.

I know work that will keep you busy.

You can help me by hammering this entire box of nails into an old wood block.

- And the nail hammering is for... - The ethanol.

- To make it... - Better?

And making the ethanol better

will help you win your contest.

Then I better get to work!

Man, is there anything better than waiting

for a comedian to drive by you on a bus?

But Gallagher's ten hours late. I hope he's okay.

Your watch stopped two weeks ago, babe.

- I thought time stopped. - Shut up, shut up, shut up.

He has arrived.

There he goes, off to Massapequa, Long Island

to dazzle his next crowd at Chucklez comedy club.

Look! The bus pooped out a suitcase.

Gallagher's famous mallet.

No! We have to get it back to him

so he can smash melons and make the world a better place.

Hey, Stan! Shingle's looking great!

I can see why this is such an important part of whatever it is Steve's doing.

Don't blame this on Francine.

You promised me free ethanol for the Second-Base Mobile.

That's what I'm calling my truck now.

There is no ethanol! It's not fermenting right.

And Mom's down there driving me crazy.

I specifically asked her to supervise because I wanted to do it alone.

But she's the one hammering nails into wood to make the ethanol better.

- Didn't that work? - Why would that work?

It's obviously busy work to keep her away from my real project.

Obviously.

So let's keep Mom hammering away.

'Cause if she gets any more involved,

she'll turn my project into a freaking I Love Lucy episode.

Totally. Everything will be in black and white.

So boring.

I can't believe Steve thinks so little of me.

But if I could get his jug bubbling for him, then he'd think so lot of me!

All right...

Bottles don't bubble till you open them.

No! No, no, no!

Wah!

Resistance is futile, shingle.

My baby! What happened to you?

Mom!

I've been out of town the last eight hours. What did I miss?

Yeah? Where'd you go?

Um...

Alibi-opia?

- Mom? - I was trying to help.

You ruined my ethanol and now I have no product for my contest.

I don't have a comeback to that! You're winning this fight.

Smells like a party down there.

I vote we switch topics to whatever the hell Klaus is talking about.

I'm talking about this beer, baby.

That isn't beer, Klaus.

You must be smelling my shattered dreams.

No, I admit I'm terrible at

many, many, many things.

But my nose is never wrong.

And I know just the dudes to prove it.

Steve and Francine, meet my beer boys.

I met them in an Uber Pool

and joined their trivia team at the brew pub.

We always cheat.

Please skip ahead to anything at all relevant.

Fine, I guess we're in a big rush.

Tony "The Tongue" is an expert taster.

This is definitely beer.

And Meg here can gauge the alcohol content of any beer

by how it affects her motor skills.

Feeling loose.

Everyone's getting more attractive.

Thinking about calling my ex.

Coachella!

Over 8% alcohol.

My project turned into beer? How?

That's a question for The Professor,

a beer nerd who got fired from Dow Chemical for being constantly drunk.

If my calculations are correct,

wild yeast on this dirty laundry altered the fermentation process,

turning this liquid into beer.

English please, Einstein.

What he said is, I didn't ruin your project,

I made beer.

Beer was already invented, Mom.

I'm never gonna win that contest and it's all your fault!

Well, I screwed up parenting.

Back to wondering if that guy was the security guard

that threw me out of Best Buy a few years back.

I was.

Knew it. Now let's get tanked!

Careful, babe! We've got to get Gallagher

his hammer back in one piece.

Maybe it'd be safer if I just held the mallet.

Whoa.

Should we smash some fruit with this bad boy?

I mean, we're holding Thor's hammer.

We gotta take it out for a spin.

How we doing on time, Jeff?

We're five hours away

and Gallagher's show isn't till tomorrow,

so how much hours is night?

We got time.

I'll just do a quick search of nearby fruit stores, and...

Wait. Who says this thing can only smash fruit?

I'm suggesting we smash other things.

What's this weird feeling?

- I'm not hungover! - What?

I got completely loaded on that beer last night,

but I feel great!

I have a new feeling My head isn't pounding

A brand new sensation On which I'm expounding

No dry mouth No dry heaves

No vomiting blunders I'm not hungover

I'm hungunder

Is "hungunder" even a word?

Opposite of a hangover. Don't overthink it.

I'm not sweating through bras And my thinking's not flawed

Not hugging a toilet Making fake deals with God

Not under the covers With brain torn asunder

I'm not hungover

I'm hungunder

The sun's my warm buddy not mortal enemy

That loud crow I shot at Is now a friend to me

The world's new again

I'm so full of wonder

I'm not hungover

I'm hungunder

Sorry, couch. Don't need you today.

You neither, big, warm blanket.

Hey, Law & Order reruns, didn't you hear?

I'm not hungover, even though I got totally smashed!

Yo, Hayley Smith here with Gallagher's hammer

The lord of the manor The watermelon slammer

My smash pursuits don't stop at fruits Roger, set me up some melon substitutes

- A lamp! - Smash!

- A toilet. - Smash!

- A tuba. - Smash!

- A computer. - Smash!

- A paint can. - Smash!

- A snowman. - Smash!

- A smaller mallet. - Smash!

We got totally smashed Without consequences

On top of the world despite our offenses

And somehow our bellies

Aren't gurgling like thunder

We're not hungover

We're not hungover

We're hungunder

- Well? - Well, what?

You can get drunk easier?

You still ruined my product for the contest.

Don't you see?

- Hangunder Beer is the perfect product. - Mom, no.

I know you're mad at me, but listen.

For thousands of years,

man has dreamed of getting totally shithoused

without paying the piper.

We made that dream come true.

Maybe you're right.

But we need more beer for the judges.

We can make more, as long as you didn't wash that dirty laundry.

God, no. I just put it back in everybody's drawers like normal.

Rest up, big guy. Soon you'll be back to smashing watermelons with the king.

Wait, we never smashed a watermelon!

We had one chance to look God straight in the eye and we blew it.

Or is he giving us a second chance?

Open the door.

Sammy Sosa!

Boiled cereal water.

Dirty laundry.

I'll avoid boring you all with science jargon and just say,

beer is happening now!

Ladies and gentlemen, Hangunder Beer is officially entered in the contest.

All right, all right, all right!

Lewis said the judges need some ASAP.

Thanks, Mom. I couldn't have done this without you.

Anytime, honey.

We'll finish making the beer.

You go practice acting surprised for when they say you win.

Great idea! You're on fire, Mom.

Wow.

So this is what it feels like to be there for your son

when he needs help.

A present parent.

I don't feel good all of a sudden.

Me neither.

Nausea, sweating, head pounding.

If I didn't know better, I'd say I was hungover.

But all we drank was that first batch of Hangunder Beer.

No. No, no, no.

This beer doesn't not give hangovers.

It gives delayed hangovers, really bad ones.

We can't give this to the judges.

I have a reputation to uphold.

Did I tell you I'm planning to run for city comptroller next year?

But if I pull the plug on this,

I may never get a chance to do another project with Steve.

We still can't let people drink this crap.

But the hangover takes time to kick in.

I say we send beer to the judges

and hope Steve wins before they get sick.

Isn't that a tad morally reprehensible?

Just a tad. That's why it's okay.

If you're looking for Francine and Steve,

they're at the school.

There you go. Right in there.

I got so drunk off this beer last night, I pooped in the catbox.

But I don't have the slightest hangover.

I made us all a 6:00 a.m. tee time tomorrow,

since we'll never be hungover again.

Should we just give Beer Kid first place now,

so we can all go home and gorge ourselves on potato salad?

Hear that, Mom? We're a shoo-in!

You know, I didn't expect this, but you and me, we're a great team.

- It feels good. - It feels so good.

What a mom. Runs off to make sure I get all the credit.

Everyone, shut up!

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen.

Before we get to the part of the show you care about,

our weird monster kid is gonna sing the national anthem.

O say

Can you...

Hurry up, Billy, before the judges get sick.

See...

Tape doesn't work. Neither do staples.

Even banging the two mallet pieces together

really, really hard doesn't do the trick.

Hurry, hurry! Gallagher's show is starting any minute!

It starts at 7:30, Hayley. It's not just any minute.

It's not some random time.

Smash it! Smash it! Smash it! Smash it!

Smash it! Smash it! Smash it! Smash it!

Smash it! Smash it! Smash it! Smash it!

Aim for the melon!

I am! I am!

Gallagher smashed himself!

The final act of a genius!

My God. Gallagher is dead.

Don't be sad. Jeff's van is the new Gallagher!

Okay, thank you for watching

Money Never Sleeps with me.

I didn't wanna watch it alone

because I was worried the money couldn't sleep

because there were monsters around.

If y'all are afraid of monsters too, let me hear a "what-what!"

- What-what! - What-what!

Has anyone seen a fish and a super-duper hot blonde lady?

Shh!

What the hell is going on?

Hangunder Beer isn't safe.

It gives delayed hangovers that are a thousand times worse.

No. We gotta get you help.

Wait a second. Did you know this when you gave it to the judges?

I'm sorry.

I thought if you didn't win,

you'd never let me do anything with you again.

- Mom. - I know. I screwed up.

No, I mean we need to get you back on your feet

so you can supervise me across the finish line.

Well, you can start by opening this child-proof aspirin.

It's fin-proof, too.

And now, the finalists for this year's Young Entrepreneurs Club Contest.

First up, Mertz,

who made basketball sneakers filled with helium that let you jump higher.

I'm gonna bully a bird!

Next, Blanche, who has a clarinet.

I don't know if it's her invention, but it sounds pretty.

And last but not least...

It's me, Steve Smith, the guy who made the beer you all love.

- Let's do the trophy thing and bounce. - Sure, why not?

And the winner is...

Steve "Mothertruckin'" Smith!

I am so thrilled to win this award.

Hold on!

Something up here suddenly made all of us sick.

But what could it be?

The obvious culprit is...

Blanche!

Her clarinet music grossed us out.

Or maybe just seeing her wet the reed grossed us out.

As I was saying, I'm thrilled to win,

but I'm even more excited to do it with my mom.

Don't be gross. You know what I mean.

I love you, Mom.

Steve? My head's stuck.

Yes! Take that, shingle. Ya got fixed, son.

>>>>oakislandtk www.opensubtitles.org