All language subtitles for 30.Rock.S05E18.1080p.BluRay.x264-BORDURE.SDH

- Hey, Jack, the vending
machine's broken.

- I know... I broke it. I
needed to speak with you,

and I knew that was the
fastest way to get you up here.

- You bastard! I trusted you!

- Lemon... lemon!

Is there any news about Tracy?

- As of this
morning, he was still

saving lives in Africa.

- I'm doing god's
work here in Africa.

Why, just yesterday,

I kicked two naked
people out of a garden.

- But Tracy, we need you here.
- Simba Rafiki!

Click, click, click.
Yeah, that's right.

I just put you in
your place in African.

- TGS with Tracy Jordan
without Tracy Jordan

is an oxymoron... Like
"liberal government"

or "female scientist."

- Or "Princeton football."

- We were 4 and 3 in
Ivy league play last year.

Our quarterback, Henry Chang...

It doesn't matter. The point is

that without Tracy,
TGS is going on...

A forced hiatus.

- Forced hiatus? Okay.

So what should
I tell the troops?

- It's simple. Sit them
down individually.

Tell them the network
still supports the show

and that this is temporary.

- But you're lookin'
out for us, right?

Pounding on desks and...

Doing whatever this is called.

- Power wagging. And
I'm doing what I can.

But I spent a lot
of political capital

buying a new
network for Kabletown.

- Is it TNT? Are
Rizzoli and Isles

friends in real life?

- It's a small cable network

targeted towards
gay male viewers.

It's called twinks.

- That's the name
of your network?

Isn't twink a term

for a young, hairless gay man?

- Nonsense. Twinks is an acronym

designed to project
a positive gay image.

"Twinks... television
with individuals...

Naive, kinky, shaved." Okay.

If the network were
thriving, it would be one thing.

But my programming
has yet to find its footing.

- Uck. No!

Next!

Boring! Who?

- Twinks could be
extremely lucrative.

Advertisers covet
this demographic.

When I was with D'Fwan
on queen of Jordan,

he spent $4,000
on chihuahua outfits

[whispers] For himself.

- Okay, well, don't
worry about TGS.

I'll take care of this
hiatus thing myself.

- Thank you, Lemon.
I'd like to help.

But I'm afraid my
hands are tied...

Is the only show anyone's
watching on twinks.

[Exciting jazz music]

♪ ♪

- The important thing is this
forced hiatus is only temporary.

We'll be back
before you know it.

- Sidney, it's
Frank. TGS is dead.

Start booking me stand-up gigs.

How many black women's
colleges are there in the country?

- What are you doing?
- You just said

we're going on a forced hiatus.

I know what that
means... Time for plan "b".

Harriet tubman
school of nursing?

Yes and yes!

- Well, good thing I kept
my teaching certificate

so I can still sub.
Last time I taught,

I was like Robin Williams
in dead poets society..

By which I mean I got fired.
- No, Pete.

This is only temporary.
- [Chuckling]

- Thanks for telling me, Liz.

We'll get through this.
- Oh, thank you!

Finally, someone
with some faith!

- No.

I meant my jennababies
and I will get through this.

I've been selling
these on QVC for years.

It's my plan "b".

This is Asian jennababy.

[Jenna, American
accent] Excuse me, G.I.,

do you miss your girlfriend?

I'm good at math.

So it's not offensive.

- Where you going... it's
just until Tracy comes back.

- I'm going back to the
job I had in Holland...

Police psychic.

A Dutch TV show is based on me.

- Come on, Sue.

You can't just leave
me here with Toofer.

- Actually, I'm off, Liz.

With my degree, I
can always go into

architecture or medical
nanotechnology...

- wait. What did you major in?

- Sorry. I don't understand.

Oh... I see.

At Harvard, we call
them concentrations.

- [Groans] Ugh!

You're my last hope.

Please tell me you
know this is temporary.

- Of course it is.

'Cause I'm gonna find
a way to save the show.

Let me just take
out my idea journal.

Hmm.

This just says bird Internet.

- He said forced hiatus?

Oh, man.

That's bad.
- Simon, you're my agent.

You're not supposed to panic.
You're supposed to help me.

- Like how Fredward
helps out iCarly

- no! Listen, everyone
here has a plan "b".

If there's a real chance
that TGS could go away,

what is my backup?

- Maybe something with vampires.

'Cause everything has
vampires nowadays.

Have you seen the twilight
movies or vampires diaries?

I'm not allowed to.

- You need to get
me some meetings.

- Would you be
willing to come in

for an Alpo commercial?

If you can get through the
audition without pooping,

it's yours.

- I'm a human writer,
Simon. Find me a writing job.

- So, Jack, how's the baby?

- Baby... Ah, yes!

Baby... Black-Asian
bisexual youths.

Those are viewers we want,

and twinks is
gonna bring them in.

- It's not a business
question, Jack.

I mean your baby.

Your daughter.
- Oh! [Laughs]

Of course, uh,
Liddy, she is adorable.

My night nurse swears
she calls me koskel,

which in Trinidadian
creole means stranger.

- Don't let work be
everything, Jack.

Family's just as important

as fixing that fellas
that like fellas network

you talked me into buying.

- I'm on top of that.
- Are you?

Jack, there's lots
of things I like...

Fishing, marches
by John Philip sousa,

telephones that
look like footballs.

But there's one
thing I don't like...

Losing money.

Now, I don't know if
my tone is conveying

the fury I feel about this,

but I am, pardon my French,

bonjour!

[Laughing]

Now, that's a joke, but
I am really, really mad.

- Look, Hank, I'm already
working on fixing twinks.

I'm remaking Knight Rider with
the Oscar Meyer wienermobile.

- It's okay, Jack.

You made a bad decision
and bought something

you didn't understand,

like when I bought
tickets for black swan.

Remember when a movie
was just a fellow with a hat

runnin' away from a
fellow with no hair?

- No.
- The point is...

You failed.

But unless there's
a gay Jack Donaghy

locked up somewhere who
understands all this stuff,

let's just chalk this
one up to never again...

And enjoy our lunch.

- Hank...

There is a gay Jack Donaghy.

His name is Devin Banks.

Man: Are you okay?

- I sense something...

A presence I've
not felt since...

- Lemon. I've decided to hire...

Devin Banks.
- Banks? But he's your Nemesis.

That would be like
me hiring that mouse

that keeps pooping
in my slippers.

- Devin is the perfect
man to fix twinks.

He's a gay shark, like
the actor who played jaws.

- But he's gonna come in
and try to ruin everything,

and everything is
already ruining itself.

- Not this time.

Banks put all of his eggs
in the Obama basket.

When the administration
started to falter

because of our conspiracy...

I mean, Obama's ineptitude,

he tried to distance
himself publicly from, uh,

your president.

- The recession
we're emerging from

was primarily caused
by lack of responsibility

and accountability.

Then he tried to
rejoin us capitalists,

showed up at John Paulson's
sweet 16 billion party.

Nobody would talk
to him. Not even Ira.

Then he was all, "oh, I'll
just look at these books,"

then pretended to
get a text and left,

and we were all like
"whatever. We'll go to IHOP.

And not tell him." [Snickers]

- Where is he now?
- I tracked him down

to an address in Brooklyn.

He's on Linkedln, Lemon.

[Laughing] He might
as well be dead!

So I throw him a lifeline,

and he comes crawling
back like a, uh...

Crab, I guess.

What else crawls, Lemon?

- Babies, Jack. You have one.

- Hank Hooper
is a traditionalist.

He had his first heart attack

when he saw
pineapple on a pizza.

He'll hate Banks and
his hairless nostrils.

And men should have nose hairs.

- Hooper will hate Devin,

and he'll never be able
to go over your head.

- Exactly. I'll pay him
for his ideas and, uh,

kick him out the door.

- Speaking of TV ideas,

would you buy a show
about a girl television writer

trying to have
it all in the city

and... also, she's
a vampire, I guess?

- I like the end part.

Lemon, why do you
have a blank note pad

with "plan b" written on it?

- Because I'm freaking out.

I told everyone about
the forced hiatus...

- wait. You said
"forced hiatus"?

- Yeah. I didn't know it
was code for canceled.

- I thought we
understood each other.

- I thought we understood

that you are never to think
that I understand anything!

- And you have no plan "b"?

I've been telling you to
prepare for the end of TGS

for the last two years.

- Well, there have been a lot
of amazing races on since then,

and I had to watch them and
go online and comment on them.

- Here are your options...
You can go to L.A.

- [Groans] I've
been to L.A. once.

Olive just turns into barham?

- Justice for Rodney King!
- How do I get to 10?

[Sirens blaring]
- It's the 10!

- Rodney King!

- You can't afford
to be selective.

Opportunities for writers are
fewer and farther between.

- What about opportunities
for storytellers?

Beginning with the cave
paintings of lascaux, mankind...

- I can get you a meeting with
Nick Lachey for the sing-off.

- I'll take it!

- You here for the sing-off gig?

- Yeah.

Do I know you?

- You know my
work. Walk with me.

I'm Aaron Sorkin. The
west wing, a few good men,

social network.

- Studio 60?
- Shut up.

Do you know Nick Lachey?

I hear he doesn't even
let you sit in the meeting.

He just screams at you
to see how you react.

- Wait, you're not really
applying for this job, are you?

- Of course I am. You gotta
take work where you can find it.

Especially now.
Our craft is dying

while people are
playing angry birds

and poking each
other on Facebook.

What is poking, anyway?
Why won't anybody do it to me?

I'm cool!

- So it's really
that bad out there.

I mean, you're Aaron Sorkin.

Speaking of angry birds, do
you know how to beat 11 -4?

It's just a red guy
and a green guy.

- The key is do not use the
green guy as a boomerang.

- Did we just go in a circle?
- Listen, lady...

A gender I write extremely
well if the story calls for it...

This is serious!

We make horse buggies

and the first model t
just rolled into town.

- We're dinosaurs.
- We don't need two metaphors.

That's bad writing.
Not that it matters.

- Mr. Sorkin, Mr. Lachey
will see you now.

- Mr. Lachey, huge fan.

Huge fan. I have
all your albums.

- [Sighs]

- Oh. You'll be proud
of me, miss Lemon.

It is not easy coming up
with ideas to save the show.

But this morning,
I held up this sign

in the today show window.

Now, I'm just waitin'
for the phone to ring.

- Kenneth, you may not
be able to save the show.

- If you wanna save
this dumb show,

you gotta get the fans involved.

You know, like sometimes
people mail stuff to networks

to show how passionate they are.

They sent light bulbs to
save Friday night lights,

hot sauce to save roswell,

and douche bags
to save entourage.

- Okay. So we just need
to think of something

that fans can send to
Hank Hooper that says TGS.

Something like...

Bird Internet!

[Door opens]
- It's about time, cashmere.

[Itsy bitsy spider plays]
Did you find Chana's boppy?

Was it at... [Hoarsely]
Music adventures?

- Banks... What's become of you?

- Nothing!

[Itsy bitsy spider stops]

These aren't babies.
They're organ farms.

Don't... look at me!

- [Chuckles] Devin...

Explain the gaybies.

- I'm a househusband now. Happy?

I married a shiny black
dancer named cashmere,

and we mixed our sperm together

so no one would know
whose baby is whose.

Now... have you had your
fun looking at the freak?

- I'm here to offer
an olive branch.

I'm working with Kabletown now,

and we've acquired a
network called twinks.

I could use someone on
it full-time, a subordinate.

- [Laughing]

You came all the way
out here to Brooklyn

to offer me, Banks, a job?

You must be desperate, Jack.

Twinks must be exploding,
and not in a good way.

You thought that I
would lick your boots,

but you need me.

So now I'm gonna make
you let me lick your boots.

- I'll keep you on
a very tight leash.

- Fantastic. Continue.
- I will not

gay set you up again,
so I'll be very clear.

You'll be under me,

and if there's one
slip-up, your ass is mine.

- You couldn't resist coming
to see how far I'd fallen.

But that was your mistake.

Down came the rain and
washed the spider out.

- No. You are the
spider. I am the sun.

I dry up all the rain.

- Yes! Freeing me, the spider,
to climb up the spout again!

- [Whispers] You bastard.

- Now... Who wants
some num-nums?

- Hey, Simon. What's up?

[Clatter]

Any word from the sing-off?

- It's a pass.

But Lachey hated you.

- So what now?
- [Under breath] You're fired.

- What?
- [Mumbles] You're fired.

- Are you dropping
me as a client?

What am I gonna do?

Jack can't help me. You
don't want me as a client.

I have no other skills.

- Liz, I'm gonna tell you
what I tell my dog clients

when I drop them... Chuh, chuh!

Chuh, chuh, chuh!

- Simon...
- Chuh!

Chuh, chuh.

- Jack. We've been
waiting almost an hour

for this Banks fellow.

The only explanation
I can think of

is that he keeps stopping
to perform good deeds.

- No, he's pulling a power
play, right out of the gate.

He's making us wait

so it looks like I have
no authority over him.

- [Laughs] Well, I'm a
straight shooter, Jack.

Except at the urinal,
but that's just a little

shrapnel side
effect from Vietnam.

So when it comes to business...

[Chuckling] I don't like
these kinds of games.

Boy, I hope my tone is
conveying how annoyed I am.

- You should be
annoyed, Hank, of course.

Devin's crude
attempts at manipulation

don't work with a man like you.

Banks is not a straight
shooter like you and me.

For now... We need him.

But as soon as he
stops being useful...

- we throw him in a ditch.

- My apologies, gentlemen.

I tried to call,

but somebody spilled milky
all over daddy's phoney.

Didn't you, little Mykonos?

Together: You brought a
baby to a business meeting.

- I'm so sorry, but this
little guy's really sick.

He threw up all over my jacket,

and I just couldn't
leave him, but...

Of course, I didn't want to
miss this fabulous opportunity.

- I'm always just trying to
balance work and family.

It's kinda what I'm all about.

- Well, son, you're gonna
do great here at Kabletown.

- Damn it!

- You know, one
of my grandchildren

is just about the same
age as Mike here.

We should set up a playdate.
- How's tomorrow?

- Uh, Hank, could Devin and
I just have a moment, please?

- Of course!

I'll just entertain this
little bundle of Joy

with one of my
uncle Hank stories.

The VC was everywhere.

Yes, they were. Yes, they were!

- This is a new low...
Even for you, Banks.

Using your own baby
to get in with Hooper.

- I brought the
sexiest one, too.

His cheekbones are like granite.

And old Hank the family
man fell right into my trap.

This isn't even baby
vomit on my jacket.

It's mine! All mine.

- This... is not over.

- Oh, look how much he
just loves his uncle Hank!

- Whoosh went the flamethrower.

"Medic! Medic!"
Cried the wittle boy!

[Both chuckling]

- Oh! How was
substitute teaching, sir?

- Oh, just like lean
on me... In that a guy

who looks like Morgan
Freeman swung a bat at me.

What are you doing
with those sugar cubes?

- Starting a fan mailing
campaign to save the show!

People will send sugar
cubes to Hank Hooper

to show that they're
sweet on TGS.

I've already sent
about 100 of these,

even though licking
an envelope is a sin.

Unless you're married to it.

So I had to marry each
envelope, and then divorce it.

Which brings me
to my ninth point...

- so you're putting a
sugar cube in an envelope

and then mailing
it to Hank Hooper.

But then when he opens it,

it will have been crushed

into a fine, white powder.

- I suppose so, sir.

- Kenneth, do you know
what Anthrax looks like?

I'm not with him!

God bless america!

- Aah!

My thorax!

- We never could have
found him so quickly

without your help.

Thank you, mentaalist.

- It is a gift... And a curse.

In the TV show,

you bang me in a
tulip field under credits.

- Mommy.

What's that?

- It's a toilet.

Or woman. It's whatever
you need it to be.

- No! People of the sidewalk...

We can't give up
on the written word!

We need stories!

Because I don't have a plan "b".

I have a degree in theater
tech with a minor in movement.

Why did my parents
let me do that?

- It's over.

- Who's there? Show yourselves.

- You're one of us now.

[Cat screeches]

- [Gasps] Who are you?

- Better to ask
who we used to be.

People whose professions
are no longer a thing.

Once... I was
called travel agent.

- I was an American auto worker.

- And I played dynamite
saxophone solos

in rock and roll songs.

- Come. We live
under the subways

with the CEO of Friendster.

- No! TGS isn't dead yet!

- Morning, Jack.

Oh, my. Empty coffee pot.

Same cheap $300
tie as yesterday.

Nose hair all askew?

You've been here all night

trying to figure out how
to fight back, haven't you?

- How was your playdate
with The Hoopers?

- Oh, it was amazing.

He has really
superlative tummy-time.

Oh! I almost forgot.

Hank... uncle Hank...
Wants to expand overseas,

and he's chosen me to be the
face of the company in Europe.

That's right. I've
been promoted.

- But Europe is my purview.

I was supposed to
go there next week.

I was going to take a
picture where it looked like

I was holding up the
leaning tower of pisa!

- Now I'll be
taking that picture.

Do you have idea
how strong I'll look?

I vanquished you in one day!

I was trapped in a world

of wet wipes and
rectal thermometers.

Then the babies
came, and life changed.

But you set me free, Jack.

Now it's weekends in New York,

then jet-setting around
the world in economy plus.

I'll be thousands of miles
away from the chaos in Brooklyn.

Do you know what
it's like to have triplets?

It's just everything
times three.

Three pairs of
grabby little hands

smearing food all over your
brand-new chihuahua outfits.

Three pairs of feet in
their weird, soft little shoes.

Three Paris of eyes, Brown...

Like my husband's.

Three perfect little mouths...

That smile every time I
walk through the door.

Three tummies...

That just want their
num-nums and zerberts.

Oh, god, I just love
my gaybies too much.

I can't leave!

- That's it?

You're just going to
talk yourself out of it?

- I'm sorry, Jack.

- But I had stuff planned.

I was going to
trading places you.

- I was bailed out of prison
and told to come up here.

That was weak, Banks.

- I don't expect
you to understand.

You don't know what
it's like to have kids.

- Actually, Devin, I do.

I have a baby daughter, Liddy.

- And yet you still
managed to be here all night

trying to figure out
how to bring me down.

Well, damn, Jack...

You are strong.

You're like dora's friend...

Both: Benny the bull.

Thank you.

Jonathan, call my car.

[Sighs]

- Okay. Here's an idea.

We keep TGS going as a magazine.

- Miss Lemon, it's over.

I applied to transfer to news.

I'm sorry. I couldn't
save the show.

- Here.

I'm actually not that hungry.

- That's funny.

This is the same
place Mr. Jordan

gets pizza from in Africa.

- I'm sorry, what?

- Oh, when Mr. Jordan
and I talk on the computer,

sometimes he's eating
this exact same pizza.

- Africa's great.

We got Juju monsters...

Gum-gum trees...

And horsicorns...

Which is a unicorn
with a horse's head.

- Kenneth, you beautiful goon!

He's not in Africa.

He's somewhere
in the delivery zone

of Federici's pizza!

We can find him and
bring him back here,

and no more forced hiatus!

- I did it! I saved the show!

I won't have to go work at news!

- And I won't have to be
the world's worst hooker!

You wanna party?

It's 500 for kissing,
10,000 for snuggling.

End of list.

No!

I'm hungry again!

- Have you made
friends in Africa?

- Oh, sure. Ladysmith
Black Mambazo,

Paul Simon, Invictus.

- So what's the weather like?

- Crazy. It's the snowiest
winter we had in years

in New York... in Africa.

- Well, sir, I had a very
interesting morning...

- uh-oh. It's nighttime.

Gotta go to bed, or
I'll anger the gods.

They must be crazy! Africa.

- I probably should
have realized

he was in New York sooner.

[Whispers] Bird Internet.