Original subtitles

MAN: Well, Cordelia, the room seems

presentable, but, uh...

(squeaks)

(gasps)

...you didn't use Dust It!

No, Monsieur,

I didn't think you'd notice.

I used a cheaper brand.

ALL: The finger doesn't lie.

What are you guys watching?

It's my dad's old Mr. Finger campaign for Dust It!

Someone put it on YouTube,

and now it's got, like, three million hits.

LAUREN: But wait, I'm confused.

She's French, he's British,

there's a windmill. What country is this?

My dear, it was the '80s. We had not yet begun

to ask those difficult questions.

Plus, when I wrote it, I'd just huffed

half a can of the product.

Anyway, now that the campaign is popular again,

we're gonna resurrect it, and here's the best part...

we landed the real Mr. Finger.

Oh, my God, he was available?

Luckily he hadn't worked in 22 years.

I-I used to love Mr. Finger.

I dressed up as him for Halloween.

Uh, did you wear the glove year-round?

Did people mistake you for Michael Jackson?

Did you know, in your heart of hearts,

that you couldn't sleep at night

unless you had inspected the school library for dust?

No. You win?

(elevator bell dings)

Hey, there he is.

Glenn Hastings, everyone, aka Mr. Finger!

(applause) HeHey!

Hey, buddy, you know they want it.

MR. FINGER: Well, I never disappoint.

The finger doesn't lie.

His finger just gave me chills.

Do you ever listen to yourself?

Mr. Hastings, I'm Sydney.

- We spoke on the phone. - Oh,

my God, I see that the face is as lovely as the voice.

Oh, charming and handsome.

How is it possible that you are single?

My wife's dead.

(laughter)

We are so happy to have you here.

We can't wait to give America the finger all over again.

The campaign is going to be great; I will tell you

all about it at dinner.

I booked the early bird just like you told me.

Well, I just have to finish a few things,

and we'll get out of here.

Oh, you know, Dad, you can stay.

I'll take Mr. Hastings out.

That way I get him all to myself.

Well,

I'll just grab my restaurant teeth, and we'll go.

It's a date. You kids have a good time, okay?

Wow, I haven't seen a can of this in years.

Whew. What are you, nuts?

I'm in recovery over here.

Sorry, I was just dusting.

Yeah, that's what we called it, too.

Lemon was my polish of choice.

No, I got to go call my sponsor.

Uh...

(sniffs)

Mm-hmm.

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh. ♪

Sync & corrections by wilson0804 www.Addic7ed.com

Ugh, how do those guys from Accounting do it...

dress like their dads, staring at numbers all day?

So boring.

Poor idiots.

SIMON: Good news, guys, we have a pitch

next week for Dixie Paper Plates.

Stare at that for three hours, see what you come up with.

We're on it, boss.

- You want to look at the back? - Yeah.

Exactly like I thought...

Okay, creatives, can everyone put down

the Popsicle sticks and finger paints

or whatever it is you artistic monkeys claim to do?

Because we have a problem.

Gordon Lewis... he's like a truffle pig sniffing out joy.

Gordon, what brings you out of the land of the anal

to the dirty den of the creative?

- Well, I'm very upset. - Oh.

And not just because my husband is on a juice cleanse,

so now I have to be.

Why can't Timothy get into barbecuing?

Wouldn't that be nice?

You know what I like about you and Timothy?

You've been married since before everyone

was gay.

Yeah, it's like when your favorite band gets popular,

- but I'm sticking with it. - Yeah.

All right, so I'm going over the billing report

in my office... the one that's a full 100 square feet smaller

than yours, even though we're equal partners...

- Uh-huh. - ... and I find that.

I am a beacon of light.

Oh, that's an angel card.

It's Timothy's other stupid new thing.

Here, what is this?

That's a bill for the Stan Wood Wallpaper account.

Yes, I know it's a bill. How come I've never heard of him?

'Cause the air's thin up there, you miss a lot of stuff.

I've always wondered, are you attracted to the tops

of guys' heads?

Does Timothy go up on you?

See, I would consider that a hate crime,

but I think the real hate crime is what we got going on

right... (snaps fingers)

Yeah.

I can't do it.

Timothy is so much better at "the read."

Stop diverting.

Who's Stan Wood?

You know who Stan Wood is.

He's the loud guy at the Christmas party,

you know, the guy who eats all the meatballs,

you know, and he has the holiday cologne

that smells like meatballs.

You even call him Meatballs.

Nice try, but I have a mind like a steel trap. I remember everything.

Except to clip those nostril hairs.

It's like staring up at two tiny armpits.

Listen, I'd love to bask

in the shade of Kilimanjaro here,

but we have that thing.

Oh, yeah, that thing, guys.

That thing already?

Oh, I know there's no thing.

Wait, do I need a sweater for the thing?

Wait, ho-hold on, this is not over.

I should know about even our most piddly, D-level client.

D-level client?

At Lewis, Roberts & Roberts all our clients are A-level,

no matter how D-level they are

(murmuring urgently)

You should be ashamed of yourself.

You can apologize in the morning.

Oh, God, am I hungry.

SYDNEY: I had such a wonderful night.

Yeah. And the best part is, it all took place in the afternoon.

The irony is, in my sunset years

I have yet to see one.

(chuckles)

I was worried you'd be bored by an old man like me. Are you kidding?

When was the last time I went on a date with a man

that shared my love of Murder, She Wrote?

Yeah. Okay, let me get you a cab.

You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.

(moaning)

My dear,

you've worn me out.

Would you please close the door

after me?

Good-bye, my darling, until next time.

So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?

That your pants are so tight, they're practically meggings?

They give you a moose knuckle.

Who is Stan Wood?

Stan Wood is a secret we thought best not to tell you.

Oh, come on, you all knew?

Secrets are not your strong suit,

he who told Gail in Research about her surprise baby shower.

She was still surprised, just three days before the shower.

And no one can take that magical moment

in the elevator away from her.

Who is Stan Wood?

Fine, I'll let you in.

Stan Wood Wallpaper is really Pete Hadary's Used Cars.

But I thought we gave them up

when we got Midwest Regional Ford

because of the conflict of interest.

We can't have two car dealerships.

Oh.

Pete Hadary was our very first account.

But if Ford finds out...

They'd fire us and we'd lose our credibility.

Simon, you know how I feel about you.

I'd carry your hair in a locket

- if necklaces weren't weird on guys. - Mm-hmm.

But do you think that this is really worth the risk?

Son, we have to have some accounts

where it's not just about the money.

The Stan Woods let you sleep at night.

I find an orgasm helps.

I used to throw, like, a fistful of downers

into a blender with cough syrup and warm milk.

I called it Milk of Amnesia,

but then sobriety ruined all that.

Now I need nonsense like loyalty and ethics

to get through the night.

It was like a lizard flicking its tongue in my mouth...

or its tail... whatever is grosser.

Huh, so you and Mr. Finger.

Yeah, I can totally see that.

That's your takeaway from my story?

An old man French-kissed me.

I skew older sometimes, too.

It takes a different skill set

but can be well worth the effort.

Turns out stories of the old country... really turn me on.

Why do I confide in you people?

Just to blame the victim for a minute here,

are you sure this isn't your fault?

He assaulted me.

You kind of led him on.

- Well, how? - How?

You were all over him.

"Well, aren't you charming and handsome?

How are you single?"

(sighs) That's not how I said it.

Hmm, kind of was.

Okay, maybe I said one thing.

"I'll take Glenn out.

That way I get him all to myself."

And then you really laid it on.

"It's a date.

How do you like your eggs?"

Well, that last part was implied.

That was old man flirting.

I didn't think it counted.

He's not dead; of course he's going to succumb

to a pretty girl that's coming on to him.

Oh, my God, you guys are right.

You're being mean about it, but you're right.

I feel so bad.

Well, you should.

He's a man with a heart and a soul,

who grew up penniless on the mean streets of Cleveland.

What, I'm the only one who read his book I, Finger?

GORDON: Yeah.

Yes, Timothy, I am loving the juicing cleanse.

I hardly miss the 3,067 calories needed

to keep a man my size alive.

Yeah, I love you, too, honey.

Yeah, yeah, I said it, o-o-okay.

Simon!

- You bellowed? - This may be a surprise,

but I called the contact number

for Stan Wood, and it went straight

to a Vietnamese restaurant.

Oh, you are an amazing storyteller.

How you spin a yarn.

Okay, don't play that game with me, tiny man.

I'm starving, I'll eat your head.

Okay.

Lauren, will you please find

the correct number for Stan Wood?

Okay, it might take me a while.

I'll wait... uh, you know what?

Better yet, why don't you get him

on the line for me right now?

Lauren, let me help you with that.

Oh, hey, Gordon, that's a great shirt.

- Who is that? - I don't know.

Do you mind if I grab a ladder and check the tag?

(muttering)

- I just want to see the tag. - All right, relax.

Ralph Lauren, wow, nice, nice, worth the climb.

Yeah, well, I just wear what Timothy lays out on the bed.

- (phone ringing) - Yeah, yeah, I know.

- What are you doing? - No, I...

Oh, excuse me.

Lewis, Roberts & Roberts.

Hello.

Stan? Great.

Hey, how are you?

Good... listen, I want to put you

on the line with Gordon Lewis.

Right, right, from the Christmas party, okay.

Uh, hello, would this be Mr. Stan Wood by any chance?

SIMON (with accent over phone): Tak.

(stammering): I say yes in Polish.

Excuse me, English sometimes not so quick.

I understand.

You're Polish? Well, that makes sense.

There's a lot of Poles in Chicago.

Largest concentration of Poles outside of Poland.

Very big...

Kick a pierogi down the street,

you'll see who comes out of the house. (Laughs)

(chuckles) You know, I've always wondered,

what is the capital of Poland?

Oh, that is a great question.

You know, it's one for the ages.

I remember, is a beautiful city

with many city streets and buildings,

lots of building.

It's in the middle of Poland.

You know, I think its name is...

Warsaw.

Ah, Warsaw. (chuckles)

Is this the road we're gonna go down, Simon?

You don't want to tell me who Stan Wood is,

maybe I'll just have to ask Weak Link.

(gasps)

Hello, little canary, time to start singing.

Who's Stan Wood?

Well, this is uncomfortable, but I can handle it.

(shuddering): It's getting harder.

Gordon,

Stan Wood Wallpaper is Pete Hadary's Used Cars.

Did I say that?

I didn't say that, Simon said that.

Simon's the snitch, yeah.

I'm so sorry, thank you so much

for your honesty, sir, in this moment of truth.

Yes, yes, yes.

That can't be good for your cleanse.

The cleanse is off.

I'm six-eight. I can't live on honey water and sunlight.

And you know damn well that we can't have two car dealerships.

It's a conflict of interest!

What is this? Kiwi Kick Go-Gurt. Well, a girl could do worse.

- I'm not doing that much, you know? - Mmm.

Billboard, Saturday Auto page, you know how they produced

- a commercial involving a llama. - That's your commercial?

With the dancing llama?

I put him in the top hat. The llama came up

with the dance steps on his own.

- I paid for most of it myself. - Mmm.

Tell you what. You don't tell Ford about Hadary,

and I won't tell Timothy about you speedballing a cake.

Simon,

do you know why I decided to become your partner?

Because I trusted you.

It was the night we met.

25 years ago, freezing cold.

You're standing in the middle of Lake Shore Drive Yeah.

Wearing nothing but your tighty whities

and you bet me 2,000 bucks that you could outrun a city bus.

Wasn't fair. The bus had snow tires.

- True. But you still paid up. - Yeah.

And after I Purell'd that wad of cash that you pulled out

from your underwear, I said to myself,

"That is a man I can trust."

Come on. Where's your heart?

Pete was your first client, too.

Here's a question you have to ask yourself:

do you choose the account that pays us millions

and lets Denise over here send her kids to private school?

My name's Tammy. And I've got pugs.

Or do you keep the piddly account

that you have to pay for yourself?

That's what you have to decide,

what is best for the agency and Denise's pigs.

Tammy. Pugs.

You have until Monday to clear this up.

Monday, Si!

Yeah.

No pressure.

(sighs)

E-Excuse me.

- Mr. Hastings? - Hi. - I was wondering if we could talk about

- last night. There's something I want to clear up. - Hmm?

I should've refused when you offered to pay.

Uh, here. (grunts)

- Here's a sawbuck. I won't hear of change. - Uh, oh.

What I-I wanted to talk to you about, um, was...

the kiss.

Oh. S-So, I...

misread the moment.

(sighs) Oh, I-I'm sorry.

Y-You made me...

think I was desirable and attractive.

You are attractive.

My dear, you're very sweet, but...

I'm a silly old man.

Nobody wants to jump on my brittle old bones.

Oh, that's not true.

I'm sure there's plenty of women that would love to...

cautiously jump your brittle bones.

You are a lovely dinner companion.

Well, if you think I'm a lovely dinner companion,

I'm an even better lunch date! (chuckles)

I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon.

Okay.

I'm dating an 80-year-old.

This is Tommy.

He's only eight, but he's a real spitfire.

He's a Toyota Corolla.

He's a Toyota Corolla.

Take a look at my little Ruthie.

She's a Pinto. I'll bet she has an explosive personality.

Boom. (chuckles)

- Pete. - Hmm?

I need some advice.

Let's just say hypothetically

that you were an ad agency with two competing accounts.

And one of them, you know, keeps your employees fed and housed

and the other one you have to pay for yourself.

- Which would you keep? - I'd keep my account.

Let's say one of them brings in millions and the other

- could get the agency shut down. - I'd keep my account.

What if you could go back in time

and prevent Abraham Lincoln from going to the theatre

- that dark and fateful night? - I would keep my account.

(sighs)

Pete, I'm very sorry,

but I can't keep your account.

(grunting)

I'm sorry, Simon. I forgot. What's the safe word again?

Lauren, can't this thing hit harder?

Maybe you can set it to "Ike Turner."

No one remembers him for his songwriting skills.

So sad. Pete wants to retire,

and all of his money is in those cars

on that lot. You had to keep

the bigger account, boss. You'll find

a different way to sleep at night.

Still pitching orgasm.

What about loyalty?

Pete was a good man and a minority.

- He checked a lot of boxes. - Who knows?

Maybe he'll sell all of his inventory this weekend.

53 cars? There's no way he'll sell them all himself.

But maybe there's a way to sell 'em with the help

of the best sales team in Chicago.

Kaepernick Ford on Dempster Street?

He sold my dad a minivan.

He just went in to ask for directions.

It's on a fixed income. It's caused a lot of tension.

My mom's talking about leaving him. Anyway, they're really good.

Sydney could finish the Dust It! Campaign and the rest of us will sell the cars.

- Us? - Why not? We're advertisers.

We'll sell anything to anyone. We're basically a pimp

in a mink hat away from being whores.

I had a somewhat loftier view of our role in the world,

but, like I always say, be the best at whatever you do,

so paint your lips, push up the girls

and let's get that bitch to polka!

Yeah! - Yeah! - Let's do this!

Huh.

(muttering softly) No.

Oh, hi. Uh, I was

just wondering if I could ask Mr. Finger a question.

It's more of a request. Actually, if I seem nervous,

it's because I'm a really big fan.

Of his. I don't know your work.

Hey, if this goes well,

do you think you could take a picture of us tog...

I'll just take a selfie 'cause it's more flattering.

- How's that one? Better? - Just do it myself.

No, this-this glove seems fine.

Now, let's see if it shows any dirt.

Dirt.

Oh, my.

You're very dirty.

Okay. Those gloves are fine.

(grumbling) Hey.

What was that with the wardrobe lady?

Where-where... where am I?

(pants) I'm going through

the change.

- Have you seen my pills? - No, no, no.

Don't play the feeble old... woman with me.

You're a dirty dog.

Hey, this place is crawling with beautiful women.

- What do you expect me to do? - Not be creepy to them!

Wait till you're my age. Then let's see if that's possible.

(stutters) You made Sydney feel terrible.

You made her feel like she was leading you on.

Charge it to the game, playa.

You're supposed to be a defender of cleanliness.

- Huh? - You don't deserve to be Mr. Finger.

No. Please.

Please. This is my big comeback.

Here. Come, come. Can't we patch this up somehow?

All right.

Because I am a great keeper of secrets.

But in return, you'll need to do a little favor for me.

Anything you want.

I'm a lot like James Dean that way.

No. Not that.

- Huh? - Something else.

That's right! (horn honks)

Huge savings!

We're cleaning house!

The finger

doesn't lie!

That's great.

Just six more hours.

I hate you.

Wow. People showed up. Advertising really works.

Now all I have to do is transform those eyers

into buyers, turn those looky-losers into yes-I-dosers.

I feel like you might be making these up.

Took you four years to figure that out.

Now, the most important thing you need to know

about selling cars...

Uh-huh.

Is that when you sell one,

you get to ring that bell. (bell dings)

You don't get to ring the victory bell unless you've made a sale.

Now I've got to use the "never mind" horn.

- (horn blares) - MAN: Never mind!

Oh. Glad we cleared that one up.

Pete, we're gonna get you to Boca.

Retirement, kicking back.

Hopefully you're not one of those guys who dies suddenly

when he stops working.

Boca on three!

One, two, three. ALL: Boca!

(cheering)

SIMON: How 'bout those Bears, huh?

This car is so comfortable it's like sitting in Mike Ditka's lap.

Roomy enough for Dick Butkus and his forehead.

"The Refrigerator" Perry could fit in the trunk. (Chuckles)

(bell dings)

Hey, there. The horsepower

on this little beaut is higher

than Mike Ditka's cholesterol.

And you can fit a mimicentury vanity in the hatchback

while antiquing.

(bell dings)

♪ Hey, must be the money ♪

Now, this baby's a little bit more expensive,

but I feel like she's calling your name.

I don't know what it is about this car that speaks to me.

(bell dings) ♪ I like ♪

♪ Those stylish clothes you wear ♪

It's got responsive steering, a capable chassis,

perfect safety scores. The backseat's on the small side,

but we should all have that problem, am I right?

We weren't thinking about buying two cars,

but there's just something about this one.

(bell dinging) ♪ Hey, must be the money

I have sold the most so far.

If anyone is counting, I'm ahead.

Not anymore.

Why's everything a competition with you?

What are we doing, people? Come on. Let's go.

We still got a few cars left.

No, no. You-You've done enough, son, really.

Um, this is... this is the nicest thing

anyone has ever done for me.

Besides, I-I need at least one car left

to make it look legit when I burn

the place down for the insurance money.

You're a good man, Pete!

This was kind of cool.

You've just had an emotional orgasm,

a soul-gasm, if you will. (chuckles)

- I'm just glad that it was with someone safe like Pete. - Yeah.

All you clowns go on break at the same time?

- Gordon, what a surprise. Come here to gloat? - Actually, no.

Timothy found a Snickers wrapper in my pants pocket,

so now I'm buying him a car.

- Seems a little extreme. - Timothy is

a former Olympic diver with five-percent body fat.

- So... this buys that a car. - Oh.

Gordon, you know why I became partners with you?

That night when we met on Lake Shore Drive

and I was shivering in my tighty whities,

a Sasquatch of a man took off his circus tent of a jacket

and he wrapped it

around me.

I know you don't want to admit, but, um...

(whispers): you really are a good guy.

(whispers): I have no idea what you're talking about.

- No? - No.

Okay.

So... about that car...

(tires screeching)

(horn honks)

(chuckles)

Sync & corrections by wilson0804 www.Addic7ed.com

My yogurt's not here.

Oh. It's right down low. I couldn't see that.

- I'm sorry. - No worries.

I can't see below five feet.

- Forgive me. - MAN: I bet.

(laughter) Where's Robin?

I'm over here, big man. I'm over here.

- How slim are they? - They're slim and matter-of-fact.

I'll tell you right now. The pants are so slim...

- Are you having slim pants? - It's like... like a pipe cleaner

wearing a small dog.

(laughter)

Pull my finger.

(mimics flatulence)

(laughs)

I went to Juilliard.