Original subtitles

I'm gonna get 12 eggs and part of a dead animal.

Dealer's choice. Please and thank you.

What can I get you, Ann?

I will have oatmeal and berries.

And I will have catfish and grits,

with pumpernickel toast.

Explain.

Well, instead of getting swept up

in my boyfriends' personalities,

I am dating myself and trying new things.

So every time I go out to eat,

I order one thing that's typical me

and then something that I would never order.

Now I have two best friends, Ann and Ann.

Each one more beautiful than the other.

Oh, I also have been documenting

all the new things I'm trying on my blog.

Check this out.

I went skydiving.

Which Ann is screaming like a maniac?

Oatmeal Ann or catfish Ann?

I'm not sure, because I instantly blacked out

from extreme terror.

Hey, I have an idea for your blog.

I think you should take yourself ice-skating.

That sounds fun.

Yeah, we'll do a double date:

You and you, and me and Ben.

But I have to warn you,

I'm very good at ice-skating.

I can do jumps.

You know what? I probably shouldn't come.

I'll embarrass the both of you.

Actually, I know what my next activity is gonna be.

And it's a biggie.

I want to be a mom.

I'm going to the sperm bank today.

Can you come?

Wow, today?

Ann, you know that I fully support

any woman's decision--

especially a beautiful unicorn-nurse like yourself--

in creating the family that she wants.

But you are so brilliant and kind and stupid hot.

I mean, you're definitely gonna find

a wonderful guy who loves you and respects you

and fills your home with multi-ethnic genius babies.

Maybe, or maybe not.

You hit the lottery with Ben, and that's great,

but not everybody's so lucky.

I've wanted to be a mom for a long time,

I'm ready, and I think I'd be good at it.

Ann is giving up on love

and deciding to have a baby with herself.

And she has only been dating herself for six weeks.

If she were dating a guy for six weeks,

and they decided to have a kid,

I'd be like, "Congratulations, Ann...

And Channing Tatum."

Because that is the only scenario

that would make sense to me.

What a gorgeous herbaceous medley.

There's been a mistake.

You've accidentally given me the food that my food eats.

Salad is traditionally the first course at a wedding.

Is a gerbil marrying a rabbit?

I'm in charge of food for the wedding.

So I brought in Pawnee's three best caterers

and a panel of experts.

Chris loves vegetables.

Ron loves meat.

And Tom considers himself a foodie,

which apparently means taking instagrams of food

instead of eating it.

Okay, so I liked number one,

Chris liked number two,

and Ron liked number three.

Tom, what about you?

Caterer number one's presentation was simple,

mm, yet exhausting.

Number two's was subtle and provocative,

like a coy Dutch woman guarding a dark secret.

Nothing you're saying is helpful.

But number three's told a story--

a story from a book I wouldn't read

but I would watch the movie of.

That's nonsense.

You know what?

I'm gonna go with the first place.

I really loved that appetizer.

Oh, the mini-calzone?

I wouldn't call it that.

It was more like a savory pastry.

Delicate little dough pocket

filled with tomato sauce, cheese, and seasoned meat.

Just a stunning culinary innovation.

It was a calzone.

It was literally just a small calzone.

Let me just get some details for your file.

Now, are you two a couple?

No. Tragically, we are both heterosexual.

So, Ann, what are you looking for

in particular?

Some sperm.

I meant in terms of a donor?

Oh, you know, nice guy... Nice sperm.

Flip through this binder,

make a note of anyone who interests you,

and I'll be back shortly.

Oh! This guy went to Harvard!

So did the Unabomber.

This guys seems healthy.

Loves cycling.

Yeah, so did Lance Armstrong,

and he turned out to be a lying drug user.

Or a hero.

I don't know where we stand on him now.

Hello, ladies.

Fancy meeting you here.

Whoa, Sewage Joe.

Wow. Ann, you remember Joe Fantringham.

He is the gentleman who was fired

for emailing a picture of his penis

to every woman in city hall.

Guilty.

Yeah, that's what the judge said.

- Mmhmm. - Joe, you are a donor here, huh?

Did you hear that, Ann?

Big time, me and all my buddies.

Free money, free porn.

Best job I ever had.

Also...

If you're looking to buy some weed,

I'm looking as well.

- Shall we? - Yup.

Okay, Leslie Knope outfit number eight.

Babe, you look super hot.

You realize you've said that about all of them?

Well, she has, every single time.

'Cause she is super hot.

Honestly, you'd look hot naked.

Ugh. This suit makes me want to scold a Catholic child.

I don't know who Ann Taylor is,

but I hate her and I want to kill her.

I have to lead a public forum for the Pawnee Commons

every day this week,

and I hate talking to people.

So, to get through it,

I figured I'm just gonna basically try

to imitate Leslie.

She still wears this.

She had the patch sewn in.

You can't remove it.

What's in the pocket, you ask?

A ticket stub from a Fleetwood Mac concert in 1995,

and...

This one is terrible,

but it is slightly less terrible than the rest.

So tomorrow, I lead a public forum

in Leslie's Fleetwood Mac sex pants.

Fleetwood Mac Sex Pants. New band name. I call it.

Ooh, you know what?

Maybe just Fleetwood Mac.

So what's the next move?

Is there, like, a better sperm bank

in Eagleton or something?

Um, you don't want a demon baby.

Look, you're Ann Perkins.

Sperm that is worthy of your perfect eggs

does not grow on trees.

I think, ideally,

you'd want to know the guy, right?

You'd want to know his personality,

his favorite season of Friends,

whether or not he hates jazz-- hopefully, he does.

You'd want to know him.

Yes, Leslie, you're totally right.

I'm gonna go home,

and I'm gonna make a list

of all the guys I already know who could be donors.

And then, I'm gonna call them

and tell them I'm doing some blog entry

on men's health or something.

I can interview them and ask them whatever I want.

You're a genius!

This is your idea, and I love it.

I'll call you later.

No.

If I don't slow this baby train down,

Ann may end up having a baby with some random weirdo

instead of her soul mate.

I fully believe

that a woman should be in charge

of what happens to her body.

In this case, the body is Ann's,

and the woman in charge of it is me.

I was up all night brainstorming

and this is the complete official list

of candidates for Ann's baby daddy.

Wow, how did you come up with these three names?

Well, I eliminated everyone in a relationship

and the obvious "No" s,

like Knuckle-hair Dave from HR.

I don't mind the knuckle hair.

- I just think he's a dick. - Yeah.

And I was left with those three guys.

Don't forget, they don't know about the sperm donor thing.

I don't want them to know.

I told them I was interviewing them for a blog.

Here comes the first one. Dr. Harris!

- H-hey, there he is. - Hi.

Ann, Leslie.

Small office. Mine's way bigger.

Is this gonna take long? Got a patient coming in.

No, not at all. Please have a seat.

Actually, maybe you should check in on your patient.

I know that I hate it when my doctor makes me wait.

Guy's got a spinal fracture.

He's not going anywhere.

- Uh-huh. - Ooh.

The seats in my office are leather.

Okay.

Chris?

I'm dying.

I was dying earlier today.

And then I died.

Now I'm dead.

I had to cancel a date

with Shauna Malwae-Tweep.

And I really like her.

Do you think she'll still like me

now that I'm dead?

What is this?

It's food poisoning. I have it too.

I did not sleep for one second last night.

And I cracked the bottom of the toilet bowl.

Oh, God, don't say that.

Has anybody talked to Tom?

I can't even imagine

what that tiny little man must be feeling like.

I have voided more than Tom's body weight

in the last 12 hours alone.

He might have just disappeared off the earth.

We need to call him. We must reach out to him.

I can't do it.

Ben, extension 7820.

Hello, everyone.

I'm April Ludgate from the Parks Department.

And welcome to a public forum about the Pawnee Commons.

As Eleanor Roosevelt once said

to Betty Ford...

"Hillary Clinton is great."

Now, if you all would kindly look under your chairs,

you will find a special surprise--

a flyer with details about the project,

and... Friendship bands

that I've made for each and every one of you.

So now, I guess we're Park Pals.

You should see the booger under this chair.

Andy.

It's nice to see you again, Ann.

I was happy to get the call.

- Yeah, Pete, you look great. - Aww.

So are you still dunking basketballs?

You know, I'm a lot more

than just a former high school basketball star.

I teach marketing over at Pawnee Community College.

- Oh, that's great. - Yeah.

Would you say you value education?

I see what's going on here.

You want my sperm.

What? What are you talking about?

When will women in this town

stop scheming to get my sperm?

Wow.

That son of a bitch is astute.

Okay, all I need to do

is just shoot one more person down

and then I can buy some time

and convince Ann to wait for her own Ben-level soul mate.

The last guy is Howard Tuttleman.

I know that name.

How do I know that name?

I know it's a winter's morn,

but it feels like a summer's eve,

'cause "the douche" is in the building.

What's up, ladies?

Oh, whoa!

Smells like some vomit took a dump in here.

What happened?

We got food poisoning, Tom.

Yuck.

How do you not have food poisoning?

Because he didn't eat anything.

He just took pictures

and talked about the "wow" factor.

Not true. I ate everything you did.

Are you sure?

Is there anything that you didn't eat?

Oh, yeah.

I didn't eat those stupid mini-calzones.

Haver-food rule number six--

never eat anything with a sauce I have to dip myself.

Drizzle it on for me.

I'm not your maid.

The calzones... betrayed me?

Never again, guys.

As God as my witness,

they're dead to me.

All right, well, Tommy feels great.

And I'm about to go eat some lasagna.

Peace!

I'm afraid this park will raise my taxes.

Ah, well, fear not.

Between the normal Parks budget and our corporate partners--

- I'm also afraid the park will be noisy.

And full of spiders.

And dark at nighttime.

I'm scared of a lot of stuff.

Everything's fine.

I'm fine. I'm Walter, and I'm fine.

Is this gonna be a topless park?

I don't think there are topless parks.

Well, let's build the first one

and be heroes.

If this is going to be a topless park,

I won't sign your petition.

If she's going to the topless park,

I'm not signing the topless park petition.

You know, I take that back, I'm still in.

What's up? I'm Harris.

Yeah, yeah. Forget whatever that Pawnee Commons is.

I'm with that pervert.

Topless park. Topless park!

- Topless park! - Topless park!

Where'd you go to school again?

Northwestern. I studied semiotics.

Wrote a thesis on narrative forms in the digital world.

Then you became a morning shock-jock

and created the sport "taint ball"?

Yeah. You know, the douche persona

is something I came up with during college.

It started as satire,

and, you know, we snowballed to where we are today.

I mean, I know it's a silly thing to do,

but it pays the bills.

Well, I think, you probably need to get back to the studio,

play some fart jokes, make fun of some immigrants.

Actually, a farting immigrant segment would be really funny.

Ay dios...

Good looking out, Leslie.

You guys ever want to do this again,

sans clothing, give me a shout.

- Gross. - That was the douche talking.

Honestly, good luck on this project.

It sounds really interesting.

I'm gonna scan a quick pic of them boobies

for a little deposit in "El banco de spanko."

That was the douche talking.

Douche nation.

You guys know where the library is?

Wow. Okay, that's not gonna work.

Back to the drawing board.

No need. I choose Howard.

You want to have a baby with the douche?

His name's Howard Tuttleman, Leslie.

And I know he plays that obnoxious character

on the radio, but he's a good guy,

his family is healthy,

and he is successful and smart.

Ann, you cannot be serious.

I am. And I've made my decision.

- I am sure of it. Okay.

Douche! Hey, douche!

Councilman Howser.

Councilwoman Knope.

'Sup, Leslie?

You wanna funk this junk in the back of my trunk?

That was the douche talking.

Okay, look, Ann is not interviewing you

for her blog.

She's thinking about having a baby,

and she's considering you as a possible donor.

Wow.

You know, I've thought a lot about having kids.

It's the next big step

in this grand adventure that we call life.

Frankly, I don't think you would be

the right man for the job.

Well, frankly,

I don't think it's for you to decide.

You know, if we had a little girl,

I would name her Elizabeth, after my grandmother.

She was this strong, amazing woman.

And if we had a boy,

I don't know, I'd name him something funny,

like "Dick" or "O. J."

Guess I have a lot to consider.

My God.

I have driven Ann right into the belly of the douche.

- Hey, what's up? - Oh, nothing.

I was listening to the radio

on my way here,

and I heard something very interesting.

So, Crazy Ira,

remember that chick Ann I used to...

Yeah, she was smoking hot!

Turns out, she wants to have my baby.

Anyway, her lesbo friend tells me

she's on the prowl for some baby beans...

And it's down to me and some other turd-munchers.

Wow. You should be angry.

I can't believe Howard did that to you.

I can't believe you did that to me.

I am making a very important life decision,

and you betrayed me.

Because I thought you were making a huge mistake.

Look, I get it.

I know you're frustrated with dating,

and you think you're not gonna meet someone,

but two years ago, I didn't think

I would meet someone like Ben, and I did.

My idea of a perfect family

does not require a soul mate.

I want a baby, that's it, accept it.

Councilman Milton, do we have a meeting?

Oh, no, no, no.

I just wanted to toss my name into the ring,

in respect to this Indian woman's vagina.

Hey, how was the forum?

Um, crappy.

We only got four signatures.

Two of them were me and Andy,

and one of them said "Farts McCool."

I just don't know how Leslie can be Leslie

all the time.

I was her for two hours and I want to die.

Well, you know what?

We've got another forum today.

Let's just hop back in that saddle.

What should I do? Should I wear a blonde wig?

Oh, my God, yes.

- That would be so hot. - Andy.

If you think--if you-- do you think it would help?

I mean, if you think it'd help you.

Well, I'm feeling so much better.

Almost no weird stuff snuck out of my body last night.

And I feel like the emptiness of my stomach

is gonna lead to a pretty epic breakfast.

Guys, what do I do?

My choice almost killed us,

and we can't agree on another one, so--

Maybe there's a catering company

in Snerling that we should look into.

No, it has to be from Pawnee.

I just know that's what Leslie wants.

I got it.

This might sound crazy,

but Jean-Ralphio has started a catering company.

He has?

Now, granted, he is currently

standing trial for counterfeiting Euros,

but the trial's gonna be over quick.

He's definitely guilty.

Ugh, forget it.

Dry toast and half a grapefruit for Chris.

Thank you.

- Egg whites for Ben. - Thank you.

Egg whites for Tom,

and pretty much everything we make for Ron.

And don't you go sneaking off.

I'm sending home some free waffles for Leslie.

Thanks, JJ. You're the best.

Okay, we're back.

We, uh, got an update on "Operation...

Baby douche."

All right, special guest is Councilwoman Leslie Knope.

- How are you, les? - "Me so horny."

That was not me.

That was a farcical sound effect.

Did she say "fartsicle"?

The fartsicle. Frozen farts you can eat.

Put it in your face-mouth!

It's cold and it smells.

God, how did you make that so fast?

Anyway, look, I am here

because I want you to stop talking

about my friend's womb.

Sorry, Councilwoman. I'm in it to win it.

The douche is gonna be a daddy.

And Crazy Ira's gonna be the creepy Uncle.

Okay, all right.

Look, she is a wonderful person,

and she does not deserve this.

So I need you to lay off.

Okay, I will lay off

if you can survive one round with Breasty Bertha in...

The Jell-o Pit!

Rudy! Get in the Jell-o.

Okay, I am a city councilwoman,

so I am not gonna Jell-o wrestle.

I mean, this is fun.

Don't you want your constituents to know

that you got a fun side?

Yeah, show your fun sides.

This is not about me and my constituents!

This is about you talking about my friend.

All right, I will stop talking about your friend

if you get in that Jell-o for one second

- and say, "Rudy." - Rudy.

- 'Cause The Cosby Show. - Classic.

Classic.

Fine, I will stand there for one second

and say it, and then we're done.

- Fair's fair. - Fair's fair.

Somebody get me a pudding pop.

Oh!

Yeah!

Rudy.

There, happy?

No, say it like Bill Cosby.

Rudy.

- I don't know. - Yeah!

Oh, she's touching her boobs now.

No, I'm not. I'm just standing here.

And I am leaving, just like you're gonna leave Ann alone.

Oh, she's in there!

She's into it now!

Oh, Rudy has fallen into the Jell-o.

Theo, now there's Jell-o

all over my favorite sweater.

And the gold medal

goes to Leslie Knope!

Okay, can you give me that bag?

I have to go change into my Leslie suit.

You got it, babe.

Thanks.

Andy!

- What? - This is the wrong bag.

What?

This bag is full of Fruit Roll-Ups

and baseball cards.

I don't have my Leslie pantsuit

or my Leslie headband or my Leslie notes.

I can't do this meeting without my Leslie stuff.

- Honey, I am so sorry. - Andy!

I guess I must have screwed up.

Look, you look amazing in this outfit.

Plus you're the smartest person on the planet.

I think you can do this just being yourself.

Yeah, so how much money

is this whole Pawnee Commons project gonna cost me?

Uh, good question.

40% will be coming from our corporate partners,

- and another 30%-- - Excuse me, ma'am.

I didn't ask for a math lesson.

So why don't you just tell me how much it's gonna cost me?

And don't use numbers.

Look, you won't have to pay any extra money, okay?

And don't ever call me "ma'am" again.

Thanks. Next question.

Yeah, I wanted to talk more about that topless park idea

that a local hero brought up yesterday.

Yeah, there's not gonna be a topless park, Harris.

Nobody wants your creepy stoner eyes

staring at them while they're enjoying a park, okay?

Stop being gross.

Yeah.

Shut me down!

You scare me,

and I gotta say, I kinda dig that.

What's your deal?

She's married to me.

I heard you on the radio.

- Thanks for doing that. - Got dicey.

But they did invite me to participate

in their topless Jell-o-lympics...

- Oh. - So that's something.

It is possible that you were right.

This is obviously a huge decision,

and I should take my time.

I want you to be happy, you know?

I-I guess I just didn't consider

that you would take a different path than I did.

I tried to impose my dream on you,

and that's wrong.

And I'm sorry.

But I think you do need

to take a little bit more time with this decision.

Maybe employ a more methodical approach.

One that involves color-coded binders.

Is that a drawing

of my reproductive system saying "Let's do this"?

The Knope way involves a lot of uterine cartoons.

What can I tell you?

Besides, what is more cuter-us

than your uterus?

- You ready, Ann? - Yeah, I'm ready.

- We're in it now. - Yes, we are.

Let's make a baby together.

You should phrase that differently.

Right.

Are you sure you're cool with JJ's Diner

catering what you've referred to

as "The wedding of the millennium"?

Are you kidding me?

I thought that I could not love you any more than I already did.

But I was dead wrong.

- Is that smoke? - Hmm?

- Hey! What are you doing? - Celebrating.

We got 80 signatures and, like, 30 complaints

of excessive rudeness, but who cares?

Yeah, you should have seen her, Leslie.

She was awesome. So smart, so hot, so mean.

I wanted to bone her right there in that dirty church basement.

No, what are you doing?

Uh, we are burning this awful pantsuit.

That's mine.

I wanted that back.

Well, frankly, you should have thought of that

before we burned it.

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