All language subtitles for The Neighbors s01e11 The Gingerbread Man.eng

My name is Debbie Weaver.

This is my family.

This is our old apartment
in Bayonne, New Jersey.

My husband Marty got us a deal
on a town house...

nicer neighborhood,
wider streets.

Just one little problem...

our neighbors are all
from another planet...

Literally.

Look at this, Marty.

There's so much
to volunteer for.

We could make a real difference
at this school.

This is boring.
Humans are boring.

Larry Bird is underwhelmed.

Well, why don't you find
something that interests you?

Yeah, like, I think
we're gonna join the P.T.A.

(Breathes deeply)

- What? What was that?
- I don't know. The P.T.A.?

I mean, maybe this year
we should volunteer for different things.

You know?
I could coach soccer.

(Scoffs) Oh, coaching.

- Okay, what was that?
- I love when you coach. Love it.

Well, you talk about
making a difference.

Well, coaching is it.

What's better than
molding young minds

through organized athletics,
right?

- Oh, that sounds interesting.
- Come on, Marty.

It's you blowing a whistle
while a bunch of kids

run across a field like
a herd of confused cattle.

It's hardly Manchester United.

What does this, uh,
P.T.A. do exactly?

- It helps the school...
- Bake sales.

Bake sales
are a small part of it.

It's also a chance
to install an arts program.

Yeah, and get mired in bickering
and petty politics.

Bickering and petty politics?
Oh, that sounds delightful.

Just like zabvronian council.

Wife, I think I will join Debbie Weaver
on this T.P.A.,

- and you can coach soccer with Marty.
- Oh, excellent!

Now hold on. Do you even
know anything about sports?

Oh, yes. I was nothing exceptional as a child,

but sports gave me some
much-needed self-esteem.

I was hoping that our little Dick
might follow in my footsteps.

(Dick Butkus, groaning)
Why are you fighting me?

(Groaning)

(Ball bounces)
(Sighing)

Good luck, coach.
(Pats back)

S01E11
The Gingerbread Man

Sync by ninh
www.addic7ed.com

(clicks tongue)

Well, this is
boilerplate stuff.

You say this is similar
to your Zabvronian council?

You should have no trouble
keeping up.

- Where's your butcher of hope?
- Hmm?

Tall chap, wears a dark hood
to mask his eternal sorrow.

Puts an end to debates.

How can you have a proper meeting
without a butcher of hope?

Maybe skim this.

The next item on the agenda
is the bake sale for the new soccer uniforms.

Now, after giving it
a lot of thought,

I've decided
we'll sell brownies.

All in favor?

Ooh! Excuse me.
I'm Debbie Weaver,

- Max and Abby's mom.
- Hello, Debbie.

I don't know your children,
but I'm sure you've taught them

how rude it is
to interrupt someone.

Oh. Fun.

Well, uh, okay. I have
a couple of ideas.

Back at our old school in Bayonne,

we made gingerbread cookies
for the bake sale,

and we decorated them
like the soccer team,

and the kids loved 'em.

And we ended up making a lot of m...
(Gavel bangs)

Money.

We made...

it was a lot of...
(Gavel bangs)

They were... delicious.

(Whispering) The president has
become your butcher of hope.

- Nothing good can come of this.
- (Under breath) Just zip it!

Thank you, Debbie.

I'm sure in Bayonne,
you used what you had,

and I admire that, but we have
different standards here.

So we'll be making brownies.

This is ridiculous!
Marty was right.

The P.T.A. Is just petty politics. Let's go.

(Normal voice)
We shall do no such thing.

This woman is not only
attacking your idea,

she's attacking your very being,
your way of life, your children.

I think she just likes
brownies.

Excuse me.

According to your guidelines,

any decisions
regarding fund-raising

must be voted upon
by the entire group.

Therefore, I move we vote...

gingerbread men or brownies?

I second the motion.
(Women murmuring)

Fine. Next week,
you'll have your vote.

- What do we do now?
- Divide and conquer.

When Linda's not around,
it'll be easier to convince them.

We'll go after them
separately.

Ooh! Pick 'em off
one by one.

Yes, and together,
we shall rule the galaxy.

- What?
- What?

(Children shouting)
(Marty) Keep moving, guys!

Keep it going! Pass the ball!

Nice work, Dick. Way to get
a piece of that ball.

It's a great job.

I'm confused.
I'm very confused.

It would appear that Dick
is not doing a great job.

In fact, I would say that he is
the worst player on the team,

and yet you keep lying
about his performance.

Listen, Jackie, coaching's about
positive reinforcement.

Okay, let's face it, kid's
never gonna be David Beckham.

(Scoffs) We almost named him
David Beckham.

As a matter of fact,
I think with some practice,

Dick could be the greatest soccer player
the world has ever seen.

Yeah, not so much.

I would lower
those expectations... a lot.

Well, maybe he could at least grow up
to look like David Beckham.

Mm, nope.

But if we encourage him,
he'll probably have a good time.

Come on, guys,
keep it going! Move it along!

Get the ball, dick!

Ow! (Grunts)
Ow!

That's it! Way to go, Dick!

You almost made contact
that time, buddy!

Thanks.
Felt great, coach. Ow!

(Scoffs)

Yeah, not David Beckham.

Remember, you are stronger
than these women, Debbie Weaver.

They must do your bidding
or feel your wrath.

Oh, thanks, Larry. You know, it's nice
to have a man supporting me on this.

Do I have lipstick
on my teeth?

Yes, but I thought
that was on purpose.

Hi... Elizabeth.

I'm sorry to bother you
at home,

but we were wondering
if you had a few minutes

to talk about the bake sale.

I really haven't thought
much about it.

I usually just vote with Linda,
but I'll let you know.

Elizabeth, Debbie Weaver
has spent all morning

putting lipstick on her teeth
to come talk to you.

I insist you hear her out.

He's very passionate
about the P.T.A.

Okay. (Breathing nervously)

But the last time
I voted against Linda,

my daughter didn't have
a playdate for, like, a year.

She's kinda chunky. She needs
all the friends she can get.

And that's why this is
so important,

- because the P.T.A. is about everyone.
- Everyone.

Not just one person.

Yes,
today it's about cookies.

Tomorrow it's banning your potbellied daughter
from the yearbook.

Elizabeth,
mother to mother,

we can't let Linda
get away with this.

(Exhales) Come in.

(Under breath) Excellent.

Plus gingerbread cookies have
fewer calories than brownies.

I know you like to feed
your kids healthy foods.

I know you have
a blog about it, yeah.

Listen, Tracy, I gotta
start making dinner.

Can I count on your vote?

Yeah? Great! Thanks! Oh!
(Door closes)

(Telephone beeps)
Whoo-hoo!

(Laughing)

Oh, dear lord, those shorts.

Yeah, they still fit.

Do they?

- How was your practice?
- It was awesome.

You know what? I really feel like
I'm starting to make a difference.

How about you? How is your
little, uh, cookie thing coming?

It's not a little cookie thing,
Marty, okay?

I'm fighting to keep the P.T.A. democratic.

- Right. With gingerbread man.
- That's right.

I mean, I'm not chasing
little kids around in lady pants all day, but...

Okay, hold on, hold on. I'm not chasing
kids around in lady pants, okay?

I'm creating
lifelong memories.

All right, you know what?
I'm sorry.

I'm glad that you are
enjoying coaching.

I just think it was
a good decision for us

- to do separate things.
- Yeah, it was a great decision,

and I'm happy that you're
enjoying the P.T.A.

Well, I'm happy you're happy
I'm enjoying the P.T.A.

Whew.

So, tell me, Debbie Weaver,

does gingerbread man
taste the same as regular man?

- No.
- Oh!

Hello, Debbie.

Out seeing
how the other half lives?

Hi, Linda.

Don't tell me you're still
trying to drum up support

- for your gingerbread cookies?
- We are.

And we've just acquired
the necessary votes

to overrule your brownie
mandate, so take that, lady.

You know, I've been president
of the P.T.A. for a long time,

and I've seen your type
come and go.

You move to the suburbs

and bring the bad ideas
from the city with you.

Well, I'm not gonna let that
happen here, okay?

Great. Beep-beep.

Ow! (Seethes)

Ow, God.

(Baby crying)

Wow. She's really into the P.T.A.

Maybe we should just let her
do what she wants.

Absolutely not.

I have a plan that will
guarantee us victory.

Yeah? Okay.

But don't do anything weird.

(Scoffs) You're weird.

(Electricity crackling)

(Door opens)

Good evening, husband.

Oh, hello, wife.

Oh, you look troubled.
What's the matter?

(Sighs)

Dick had soccer practice today.

And he was really quite awful,
but Marty Weaver

kept on telling him
he was doing a good job.

He called it
"positive reinforcement."

Oh, these humans and their
"everyone's special" baloney.

Have fun sucking hind teat
to the rest of the universe, losers.

Uh, I'm very concerned
that if dick is a poor athlete,

he'll lack self-esteem
and fail to grow up

to be a strong, confident
black woman like his mother.

I found myself in sport.
I was hoping he would, too.

Well, you might need to take
more control of the situation.

These humans are surprisingly soft.
They must be pushed into action.

You know what's best
for your son.

You must be fierce
and take no prisoners.

(Sighs)

- Ooh, I don't know, husband.
- Yes, you can do this.

Be fierce
and take no prisoners.

Say it with me.

- Be fierce and take no prisoners.
- Fierce and prisoners... no... I... sorry.

Well, it's close enough.

And if all else fails, we can always install
a performance chip in Dick's brain.

Oh... (Laughs)
Oh, ho, ho, ho.

Ohh!

- Thanks, Boo.
- Welcome, Snookems.

Mmm.
(Door closes)

(Exhales)

(creaks)

Reggie Jackson,
are you in position?

(Door squeaks)

Yes, father.
Target acquired.

Activate gingerbread device.

Understood.

(high-pitched voice)
Linda?

Oh, Linda?

Hi, Linda!

Linda?

Hello?

Is somebody there?

(Shower running)

Who's there?

(High-pitched voice)
Linda!

Is somebody here?

Hello, Linda.

Aah!

(High-pitched screaming)

Aah!

(High-pitched screaming
and laughing)

(Thud)

The next... (Clears throat)

The next item
on the age-agenda...

- (rattling) What was that?!
- What was what?

(Lowered voice)
She seems so nervous.

- I think she knows we got the votes.
- (Lowered voice) Perhaps.

Or... perhaps she's suffering
from post-traumatic stress disorder

from something I may or may not have made happen
at her house last night.

What did you do?

I defeated her.

Where I'm from, we wage war
through psychological destruction.

Our goal is to mentally
crush our enemies

until they can no longer
function in society.

I just wanted
gingerbread cookies.

And gingerbread cookies
you shall have.

(Normal voice) Excuse me.

I have a question regarding
the bake sale.

(Pants) Stay away from me,
gingerbread man!

(Screaming)

(Women murmuring)

The P.T.A. is yours, Debbie Weaver.

Well... crap.

I know you're tired, Dick,

but this is
for your own good.

Thank you, mother.
You were right.

The pain in my side
did eventually go numb.

Hey! What's going on?

We're running motivational laps.
This is 310.

I'm doing what I must
to protect my son.

I don't want him to have
the same childhood I did.

(Children shouting)
(Blows whistle)

Let's go, team! Come on!

Gather round! Bring it in!

Listen, tomorrow is
our first game, okay?

And if we go out there
and we do the best we can

and we have some fun,
I think we can win!

No, no, no, no, no.

We can win, but we won't.
(Sighs)

And why not?

(Voice breaking) Because there
is a weak link among us.

It's you, Dick Butkus.

Your weaknesses are simply
too strong to overcome.

- And therefore you are off the team.
- What?

Your assessment of my abilities
is blunt but precise.

I shall take my leave.

You can't kick him
off the team.

Oh, well, he's the weakest,

and I must be fierce
and take no prisoners.

It will motivate him
to work harder.

Okay, well, I'm the coach,
and I say that he stays.

Fine. You're off
the team, Marty.

You can't kick me off!
(Laughing) I'm the coach!

Team, loyalty vote.

Would you rather follow me
to victory

or coach Weaver
to certain defeat?

(Sighs)
Choose now!

Max?

Come on, dad! Look at her
in those shorts!

I just got puberty.

(Boys) Yeah.

Look on the bright side,
coach.

You also look good
in your shorts.

(Laughter)

See?

Positive reinforcement
doesn't really work.

(Whistle blows)

(Sighs)

How was practice?

Jackie made me cry.

Because she made me feel
so good about myself...

Which I do.
I feel really good about me.

You know, 'cause I'm making
such a difference, you know?

What about you?
How's the bake sale coming?

Awesome. Excellent.
Also making a difference.

With Larry Bird,
the P.T.A. is all mine.

Literally.

Yeah.

All right, well,
I'm gonna go take a shower.

I'm gonna go bake
the cookies.

But I feel really good
about myself

- 'cause I'm making a difference.
- Well, I'm even gladder

that I'm making more
of a difference, so...

Jackie was right
about my thighs.

Where are the minions
to make our cookies?

I'm here to motivate
their labor.

The minions quit, Larry.
Every single one of 'em.

They all think you're
a dangerous lunatic,

- and I agree with them.
- Oh! Short-sighted fools.

They're obviously not
worthy of your leadership.

(Utensil clacking)
You're better off without them.

Well, I would disagree,
since now you and I...

have to make
200 gingerbread cookies

by tomorrow morning
by ourselves.

What?

Oh, no, I can't.

I have a, um, a work thing
which I have to att...

- No, you don't.
- No, I don't.

- My cat just died.
- Sit.

Let's get cooking.

(Dick Butkus screaming and grunting)

(Gasps and grunts)

(Inhales and exhales sharply)

Hey, Dick, what are you doing?

(Exhales)

I'm practicing so that
I might return to the team

and regain
my mother's respect.

So far, it's been
a total disaster.

Well, you know, sometimes
parents take sports a little too seriously.

And the truth is,
I think this might be

more about your mom
than you.

But you must admit,
by all metrics,

I am a pretty bad athlete.

Oh, the worst.
But that doesn't mean

that your mother
isn't proud of you.

I think you're a lot like
she was at this age,

and sports really helped her
with her self-esteem.

And she just wants
that same thing for you.

But I'm not lacking
self-esteem.

Why would I be?
I mean, look at me.

Who else do you think could
pull off this look?

Wow, not many.

You're a good kid, Dick Butkus.

Why don't you go
get your uniform on?

We're gonna go get you
back on that team.

(Woman shouts indistinctly)

(Crowd cheering
and chanting indistinctly)

Two, four, six, eight!

Two, four, six, eight!
Two, four, six, eight!

Dick?

(Cheering continues)

Win at all costs.

Be fierce.
Take no prisoners.

I don't miss my son at all.

(Blows whistle)

Gingerbread cookies!

Help the soccer team
buy new uniforms.

They're yummy.

They can't taste worse
than they look.

You know, in spite of everything,
I think this was quite a victory.

Do you? Do you, Larry?

We've sold zero cookies.

Alienated the parents
of all our kids' friends,

drove a woman crazy,

and made the worst
gingerbread cookies

in the history of mankind.

So, why? Why, Larry?

Well, because I actually thought
you had some pretty good ideas

about arts programs
and teacher evaluation.

And if anyone ever asks,
I shall deny it, but...

If I had to have
a human woman

guiding
my children's education,

I'd be very happy
if it were you, Debbie Weaver.

You are a good human woman.

That is actually a very sweet
thing to say, Larry.

- Please don't be weird.
- No, you're weird.

- Okay, well, this is weird.
- It is.

(Boy shouts indistinctly)

Go, go!

Hello, coach mother.

Hello, son.

Marty, what are you
doing on my field?

You need to put Dick in the game.

No, I can't.

Oh, come on, Jackie.
This isn't you.

I know you're worried
about Dick's self-esteem,

but you don't have to be.
Dick is a great kid!

Look at him.
He's smart, he's compassionate.

Huh? He's cute.

And once I learn a couple of bulletproof
"knock-knock" jokes,

- I'll be the total package.
- (Laughs) You see that?

I mean, I don't know
an adult who's that confident.

I just worry.

(Sighs) Kids can be so cruel
to unique children.

Although you are
really quite remarkable.

(Laughs)
Okay.

("Adulthood" by Jukebox the ghost playing)

Here you go, buddy.
Put these on.

Ooh... (Sighs)

You are a good coach,
Marty Weaver.

- I'm okay.
- Mm.

™� I go outside

♺ Ask the air if it would
like to hide ♺

Nice try, Dick!

No, it wasn't.

Larry Bird!
Say something encouraging!

- Fine.
- Honestly.

- Your hair looks great, son!
- Yes!

- He gets that from you.
- Thank you. Yes, he does.

- Oh, God, he's terrible.
- I know.

™� No one survives
(Latch clicking)

Hey.

Can I buy a cookie?

I wouldn't. Unless you
like the taste of failure.

You know, this is why
we should do this stuff together,

because I think we make
a pretty good team.

Oh, come on.
We make a great team.

(Clears throat) You know, I've been told
that I'm a fantastic coach.

(Crunches loudly) Well, I've been told
that I'm a pretty good human woman, so...

(Marty) Mm.

- How did you do it?
- Hi, Linda. Do what?

The gingerbread man...
it was alive!

I don't know how,
but it was alive.

You know, I think you're just stressed out
from the drama of everything.

There's no such thing as
a living gingerbread man, Linda.

Oh. Really?

(Jackie) Get the ball, Dick!

(High-pitched voice)
I'm running as fast as I can!

Aah!

She's a little jumpy.

Yeah, a little high-strung.

Ow!

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