Original subtitles

I just got a $20 tip on a $10 check.

I may be the greatest waitress ever,

and strangely, that doesn't make me want to die.

You're finally getting the hang of a job you've had for years.

Is your last name Obama?

Another big tip.

I think it's my smile.

Well, something's smiling.

Pickup. Patty melt.

Correction: panty melt.

- Caroline, you have... - What, Max?

Pride in a job well done?

Yes, some of us can still feel pride.

Yeah, but only for about another ten seconds.

Caroline.

Ooh!

Oh...oh, no.

Oh, no.

This reminds me of when I saw my mother's side boob.

Max, you have to say something.

Um, Caroline?

Hey, look!

I just got a $10 tip from this guy,

and I spilled coffee on his face.

Screw it.

I'm taking the ass train to Money Town.

Oh, nope. Not wearing underwear.

I know it's technically good to have a big order,

but I am five cupcakes away

from what professional doctors call T.Rex arm.

Like you always tell me... use your other hand.

It'll feel like a stranger.

And how about our new business labels

and my ability to be excited about literally anything?

I got them with the money you were saving

for that Porky Pig bong.

But when it's down to just resin,

it says, "That's all, folks."

I'll pay you back as soon as we get the money

for this big order for...L?

Max, someone named L ordered these cupcakes?

Oh, that's not an L; that's an I.

Sorry, I learned printing mostly from ransom notes.

I?

I mean, what kind of person would just be named I?

This kind.

Hello. That's my order.

Yes, they're just about ready, mis...ter...

I'll spare you the stress and confusion, dear,

because I can tell by the size of your pores,

you're a sweater.

She is.

Sometimes she gets so nervous

watching "America's Next Top Model,"

our couch is slick for days.

Spoiler alert: none of them are America's next top model.

To be clear, I am neither he nor she,

Mr. nor Mrs., male nor female,

and the only part of me that's transitioning

are my heels from day to evening.

I am simply I, and I cannot be labeled.

I am gender fluid.

That's cool.

As long as none of it gets on us.

Is my order ready, or do I have to wade through

more of this poor man's Amy and Tina?

I like to think of us more as an Ike and Tina.

I'm just finishing boxing them up for you.

It's okay for cupcakes to still be put in a box, right?

Just not people.

I'm using your cupcakes in some performance art.

See, I is a performance artist this month.

Last month, I was working at the Cold Stone Creamery

on 8th Street.

Well, I've had sex there.

Yes, well, who hasn't?

The audience will bite into one of your pretty, pink,

femme-looking cupcakes, only to discover

that I have inserted a cocktail weenie inside.

But who wants to be surprised by a little weenie?

I don't mind it.

It's an interactive experiment that challenges

how we instinctively label one another.

But I don't have to explain my performance piece to you.

You're not my advisor at The New School.

Forgive me.

I wasn't criticizing your piece.

Yeah, we're still not even sure if you have one.

Can you excuse us for a minute?

And by the way, the fuchsia in your blouse

really brings out the red in your beard.

People are gonna see our adorable labels

and think all our cupcakes are stuffed with wieners.

Would it kill you to have a wiener

stuffed in your cupcake?

Look, someone is paying for them,

and that someone can do

whatever the hell they want with them.

I said the same thing to the people

who bought my kids.

We don't want someone to deface our cupcakes.

They're meant to be enjoyed by children

or single women when a romantic comedy

hits too close to home.

Money is money. It doesn't matter.

Just put the cupcakes in the bag.

I don't feel good about this.

Sorry, but we're just not comfortable

selling you our cupcakes.

He is right here. Bag it!

What did you just call me?

- Oh, no. - Oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I did not say the thing you thought I said.

I didn't even think it.

In fact, I wasn't listening to half that crap you said.

She said, "bag it," with a B, as in boy...

or not a boy.

Oh, I see what this is.

This is just another homophobic bakery

trying to deny service to people like me.

Well, I don't have to stand here

to tell you how upset I am.

That's what Yelp is for.

Oh, no.

I think Kathy Bates is really mad at us.

Well, that sucks.

Now I want a hot dog.

Where are all the customers?

I haven't seen this few people since...

You went on Tinder?

Your sweet 16 party?

Caroline, throw one in there.

Your season of "The Bachelor"?

I was going to say

so few people since a sale at your cupcake window.

Boom! I just schooled you.

Well, preschooled us.

Hey, everybody.

Oh, my gosh.

You girls, I raced over here so fast,

I left half my hair in Midtown.

Love the babushka, baby.

Reminds me of my Aunt Schmirna.

Great boobs: one big, one small.

Something for everyone.

Yeah, the gays, they're real mad at you.

Yeah, my stylist, Carl, told me about two girls

with a cupcake shop in Brooklyn

who didn't want to serve a member of the LGBTQ community.

LGBTQ?

Those are the trains I take to get here.

Oh, my God. Max, this is terrible.

I know.

Earl only lives a block away.

Why is he taking five trains?

The gays are steaming mad.

You know, if I were you girls,

I would stay away from the Village,

the East River, the Hudson River,

Melissa Rivers,

Pinkberry,

Broadway.

Yeah, and good luck shopping for dog clothes.

Come on, Sophie. It's not that bad.

Not that bad?

If it wasn't that bad, would I have left the salon

looking like this?

Oh, my God.

They sent you out like that?

They do hate us!

I know. Tell me about it.

I look like Donald Trump

before they Velcroed that dead cat to his head.

A classic good news/ bad news situation.

Good news: I figured out where all the customers are.

Bad news: they're aggressively protesting your cupcake shop.

You went to Supercuts, didn't you?

I hope you're happy, girls.

Now even Han thinks he's better than me.

No cake equals hate.

No cake equals hate.

No cake equals hate.

No cake equals hate.

Okay, this is bad.

I haven't seen this many angry gay people

since that NBC "Peter Pan."

There they are.

That's the one that refused to sell me cupcakes.

Oh!

Hey, all right, come on now.

The one with the bee-stung lips,

or the one with the unfortunate side bang?

This is just a misunderstanding.

Max's Homemade Cupcakes is pro-gay.

- I love gay people. - She does.

She's pretty much dated them exclusively.

This little business is our dream.

Wrong dream, blondie.

No cake equals hate.

No cake equals hate.

No cake equals hate.

No cake equals hate.

No cake equals hate.

- No cake equals hate. - I've called every one

of my exes to come down and vouch for me,

and they're freezing me out.

It's like I'm asking them for sex again or something.

I was sure this would clear up on its own,

but I always think that

because I can't afford penicillin.

The diner's still empty.

Did you two get bored killing your own business

and decide to go after mine?

I can say, on behalf of all women,

none of us are ever going after your business.

Apparently you've never met Martha,

the portly cashier at my neighborhood Rite Aid.

I'm gonna go talk to them, set them straight.

Well, as much as I can, given the circumstances.

We have been trapped in here for two days.

It's like we're in Gaytanamo Bay.

I'm gonna open this window and tell them to screw off.

Free speech.

Your feelings got hurt. Too bad, so sad.

Oh...my God.

You should have sold him the damn cupcakes.

I'm Cher, bitch.

What happened?

Cher hates us too.

We must be wrong.

That's not the Cher, Max.

It's a Cher impersonator.

Then why do I have chills?

I love Cher.

I used to imagine she was my real mom

and that one day she'd pick me up

and take me away with her,

and then we'd get matching see-through body stockings

like normal mothers and daughters.

Aw, that's so disturbing.

Max, we did nothing wrong.

You can't just back down

because of some female impersonator.

Now you're blonde.

Look, Cher, we did nothing wrong.

Hey, look. I want a cupcake,

and nobody... and I mean nobody...

is gonna rain on my parade.

Attention, everyone.

This is the owner of the diner next door,

and he has something to say,

so let's listen to our gay comrade.

Oh, I'm not gay.

Well, that explains the sweater vest.

Yep, I'm straight. Love the ladies.

I'm a bit of a chick magnet.

You're barely the size of a refrigerator magnet.

There.

Another insensitive remark,

this time about the little people community,

just like my friend here.

Oh, I'm not a little person.

Max, do not say anything.

Fine.

But this used to be America,

home of the free and land of the insult.

Everyone, maybe I can clear this up.

That woman over there doesn't hate gay people.

- She hates all people. - Yeah.

No cake equals hate.

Sophie, what are you doing?

Oh, hi. Sorry, girls.

No cake equals hate.

Hey, be fair and fix my hair.

Hi. Excuse me.

Oh, no, did we also say something

to offend the L.L.Bean community?

Max, now straight people are mad at us too.

The cashier in the diner said this was the best way

to get to you.

He also told me his CD was a bargain at $5.99.

I can't believe you got past the protestors.

I would have thought those boys

would have the back door covered.

Man, it's crazy out there, right?

I mean, however people run their business

should be their own business.

That was always the company line when I worked for that cartel.

I read about your situation on the internet,

and I want to order 500 cupcakes.

Is there a Mrs. L.L.Bean?

There is. Happily married 15 years.

Terry Williams.

"Family Foremost Foundation"?

Yep, the FFF.

Wow, three of them.

You people really like a good F.

Well, we're a group

of independent business owners like you.

We're in town for a convention on Sunday.

Information is on the card.

We'll bet there with 500 cupcakes.

Oh, Terry, what kind of cupcakes?

It's your business. You decide.

- Max, how about that? - I know.

The Brawny paper towel guy just saved our asses.

Good afternoon, family.

Good afternoon, Terry.

It's so weird for me to hear the word "family"

not followed by the word "court."

I hope you have some energy left

for the leader of our family,

the man who always puts family foremost,

Brother Dan.

Good afternoon, family.

Good afternoon, Brother Dan.

And thank you, Brother Terry, for that warm introduction.

Are they stuck?

Um, I think there might be one more F

in Brother Dan's plan.

Today, we are here to celebrate that most perfect union:

the family.

We rejoice in the family.

We live, we love, we lust...

wholesomely, of course, for the family.

And today, our family has found two new daughters.

Girls, why don't you come up on stage?

Oh, you don't want her to get on stage.

In fact, why don't you get that spotlight off us

before she starts to sing again?

Don't be shy. You two girls went up

against today's politically correct mafia.

You stood up to the family destroyers,

with their tan, shirtless torsos

and their free online pornography.

Come on up for a hug.

Come on.

Just walk past the stairs and keep going.

No money is worth being part of whatever this is.

Let's make a break for it.

And we have a big surprise.

Here's a check made out to Max's Homemade Cupcakes

for $10,000!

Let's make a break for it after we get the check.

Every night this week, I have wept in the arms

of my loving wife, Peggy.

I have wept about the plight of these two girls,

and I am very thankful that we could all pull together

to ease their pain.

Thank you.

Max, Caroline,

come closer to me.

Closer?

Does he know we don't have penises?

Come close so I can present you

your giant check.

I just wish I'd brought my giant wallet.

No one has to know we're getting money from them.

Right now, millions of people are watching

as we stream live around the world.

Oh, this is streaming right now?

Max, this is streaming.

I'm streaming a little in my pants

about this check.

Right now, all around the world,

people are seeing what morals look like.

These are the girls who are standing up

against the deviants, the divorces,

the scientists, the hop-hop lovers,

and...

the doobie smokers.

Whoa.

I don't like people or science, either,

but ain't nothing wrong with a righteous doob.

We need to show the world that we will not tolerate

these deviants and these degenerates any longer!

I don't want to be associated with these people.

The gays will hate us forever, and when I get an interior,

I want it decorated.

People watching everywhere,

meet the two new faces of family.

You know what we have to do, right?

On the count of three.

One, two...

Look away, Peggy!

Hold me, Terry.

I believe this is yours.

I can't keep up with all these drinks.

I'm running out of tiny umbrellas.

How will you get home if it rains?

Yes, it's I.

Saw your kiss on Instagram,

and I wanted to apologize for the whole mix-up.

I can be a little overly sensitive.

Just ask anyone that works at Lanc�me.

Oh, they know me at Lanc�me.

They call me No More Free Samples.

Listen, I get it.

Nobody wants to be reduced to some label.

You should hate people for other reasons:

because they're gross or mean

or you owe them money.

At the end of the day,

we are all just trying to get by.

Bi? Now, those people I don't trust.

Hi, sorry I'm late for the party, girls,

but I was just outside talking to my new friends,

Lisa Newcar and Ginger Vitis.

We all wear the same shoe size!

Ah, ladies, ladies.

I would love to stay and celebrate,

but I've got a hot date with that fine young thing

at table four.

Good for you, Earl.

But I don't know if that's exactly a woman.

Ladies, I'm almost 80.

I don't know that that's exactly a problem.

A few of the girls and I took up a collection

for shutting your business down the last couple days,

so here.

Cher, you got me a present?

I've waited for this my whole life.

You know my name is Chad, right?

So snap out of it!

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