All language subtitles for The.Great.North.S01E02.WEBRip.x264-ION10

Pancake Patrol initiated.

Sergeant Syrup
reporting for duty.

- At ease.
- Copy that.

Are we clear for strawberries?

10‐4, Rear Admiral
of the Lower Half

of the Whipped Cream.
Ready, aim...

Fire!
Fire, fire, fire, fire, fire.

It just blows my mind every day.

The precision, the formation.

It's like a breakfast‐themed
Jabbawockeez.

- They don't rehearse this?
- No, just comes naturally.

That's Alaskan twins for you.

Born nine months apart,
twins of the heart.

It's like Mom
always used to say:

I'm pregnant again.

Well, the van's started,

but it's making a sound
that can only be described

as "a screaming."

Let's just hope the engine lasts

through the Feast of Not People
Festival this weekend.

Now, what is
the Feast of Not People again?

- We eat people?
- No, we don't eat people.

That's the whole point.
The Feast of Not People Festival

is an annual celebration
of Lone Moose's origins,

when the first settlers
got off course

on their way to Florida
and ended up here...

Well, okay, not the first
first settlers.

Those were actually
the Alaskan natives,

- to whom this land
rightfully belongs.
- Right.

So these European settlers,
who were total ding‐dongs,

came in the dead of winter,
with zero snow‐how.

Lotta loose bonnets,
if you know what I'm saying.

These underprepared vacationers
turned

to eating each other to survive

And they ate a lot
of each other.

We're talking four trips
to the buffet

with a new plate each time.

Eventually, though,
they realized

they were surrounded by scores
of edible fish and wildlife.

So there's a festival
celebrating that the town

used to eat people?

No, again,
we celebrate not eating people,

and we do it
by not eating people.

Oh, and the best part is
the Feast Cake.

It's a huge cake in the shape
of anything that's not people,

cooked by our local Cake Lady.

She makes a cake big enough
for the whole town?

Yep. The Cake Lady
somehow always outdoes herself,

year after year.

What a hot box of pressure.

Yes. That Cake Lady sure must be

sweatin' batter, mustn't she?

But that's enough festival talk,
isn't it?

Not really. I don't think
I totally understand

what an Alaskan Cake Lady is.

Oh, allow me to explain.

Every Alaskan small town has
its own confectionary visionary

known as a Cake Lady.

But ours recently retired.
To jail.

Turns out the only thing she
liked to cook more than cakes

was, uh, the books
for our very small

but very violent local mafia.

She made her cake,
and now she has to lie in it.

And after she went
to the big house,

an unknown mystery baker
has been fulfilling her orders

and delivering them
in the dark of night.

She makes you purchase
through electronic mail.

I liked the old system, where
you tacked your order to a tree.

Well, you can bring it up
with whoever it is on Sunday.

It's town tradition
for the Cake Lady

to personally unveil
her masterpiece at the festival.

To win us over,
this year's Cake Lady

is really gonna have
to cake it...

- to the limit.

What a funny wordplay, Judy.

- Whoa.

What's up with Ham?

He usually loves talking
baked goods.

He was probably just laughing
to cover a fart.

Oop.

Okay, Ham, so you have
that math quiz second period,

so take my lucky pencil
with the good eraser.

- Ham, are you listening?
- Yeah.

Um, uh, sorry I forgot
to tell you

but, um, uh, I actually‐‐

Uh, I won't see you
at lunch today.

Yeah. Good one.

Uh, same. And I also won't
see you at lunch

because I'll be having lunch
with, um, someone from history,

alive or dead.

No, I'm being serious.

Okay. Well, just tell me
what you're doing at lunch

- and I'll do that, too.
- Sorry, Judy.

This is something
I have to do alone.

- A private lunch.
- Um, okay.

I said good day.

Festival competitions.

"Guess How Many Teeth
in a Jar," "Big Pit,"

"Animal Bite Parade,"
"Cadaver Dash."

Is that the one you guys
were talking about,

where there's something far away

and you have to guess
what it is?

No, no. That is

"Identify That Thing
in the Distance."

"Cadaver Dash"
is where teams compete

to find and collect
the most cadavers.

Ooh, fun.
So it's like an Easter egg hunt

if the eggs weighed
a couple hundred pounds.

Exactly.
Dad and Uncle Brian

are longtime reigning
Daver Dash champions.

So, Dad, I‐I guess since
Uncle Brian moved to Anchorage,

it's gonna be you and me
as partners this year?

Actually, I was thinking
I've already won it

so many times with Brian,
maybe I'll just throw my hat

in the teeth jar this year.

Or, you know,
I‐I know I'm no Uncle Brian,

but you could try throwing
your hat in the me jar?

All right, I guess
I could dash one more year.

Yeah! Team Tobin.

When I say "father,"
you say "son." Father!

- Father.
- We got this.

Oh, and Moon will no doubt want
to be a cadaver again this year.

He's one of the best dead people
in town.

Oh, that sounds interesting.

Maybe I'll sign up to be
a cadaver, too.

Great! Well, I better start
practicing for the dash.

- Care for a ride?
- Sure. Legs, sit this one out.

Hey, Dad,
you carry someone, too!

Santiago, may I carry you?

Me? Wow.
It would be my pleasure.

I've never played
a dead body before,

but I made an amazing Rizzo

at Almond Grove High's
production of Grease.

The newspaper called
my performance "serviceable."

That won't help you here.

This isn't some shallow
rendition of the '50s.

This is real life.
This is death.

I'm not sure you could
even be quiet for five seconds.

Easy. One, two, three,
four, five.

Hmm. I should
definitely train you.

All right, you can be
my Obi‐Dead Kenobi.

Oh, good.
You guys are here.

So, Uncle Brian is 220 pounds
of pure Alaskan stallion.

I'm 160 pounds of droopy pony.

Thus, I've got my body
all mapped out

and a solid plan
to meet family standards

by dash time.

Did you have to be nude?

Relax. I drew someone else's
penis in place of my own.

Step one: core.

Since you can't carry
without a strong core‐y,

I've gone ahead and downloaded
an app called abpp.

When it's not crashing my phone,
it's working my zone.

Step two: bladder.

You don't want to be taking
any bathroom breaks

during the dash,
so I'm gonna be upping my liqs‐‐

that's what I call my liquids‐‐

and stretching that blad.

That's what I call my bladdy,
which is what I call my bladder.

And step three: hands.

Most Tobins' hands are,
medically speaking,

more similar to claws.

Me, I got a pair
of soft‐and‐floppies

just like Mom's, so what I did
is bought Holdems.

High‐traction gloves
that guarantee superb grip.

One weekend seems like
the perfect amount of time

to make all of these ambitious
changes to your body.

Soup's on!
Not really soup,

but if you want
to cut up your hot dogs

and put 'em in water,
who am I to stop you?

Oh, hello, Ham.

Is it okay if I eat dinner
with you

or are you having a
private dinner, too?

In case anyone is wondering
what I'm talking about,

Ham had a private lunch
at school today without me

for the first time ever.

But maybe he'd like to tell me
now what it was.

- He would not.
- Ooh, you know,
I think I may have a lead

on the Cake Lady.

I really, really doubt it!

Okay. Calm down.

I am calm!

I am a very calm person
who does not want to talk

about the Feast Cake
or the Cake Lady

or what I did at lunch.

Seems like there's a lot
of topics

that are off‐limits.

Yeah, so maybe
we should just not talk.

- What's on TV?
- Diondra Tundra here

with Mayor Peppers,
doing a deep dive

- into this year's Feast Cake.
- Oh, no.

Our Cake Lady countdown clock
is ticking away.

‐ ‐Son, are you all right?

Do you need the barf basket?

Can the new Cake Lady

live up to last year's

unforgettable
"Thanksgiving Dinner

with All the Fixins Cake"?

- Nope!
- Ham, what is going on?

All right, fine.
I can't take it anymore.

She's me, okay?

- The new Cake Lady is me!
She's me!

She's me, she's me, she's me,
she's me, she's me. I'm her.

- Ham, you're the Cake Lady?
- Busted.

Wait, so that means
my Jackson Pollock birthday cake

- splattered
with candied pollock?
- Me.

The nasal cake for the Ear, Nose
and Throat Clinic's anniversary,

with
those golden raisin boogers?

Mm‐hmm. The Bundt cake for the
Little League championship game,

the upsetting
but ultimately very delicious

Death By Chocolate cake
for the funeral home.

- All of it, me.
- But how?

I do it at night.
I say my "sleep tights"

and give my bedbug warnings

and then I head down
to the kitchen

and Cake Lady till morn.

But, Ham, how could you
not have told me?

Did you just wake up one day
and think,

"Hmm, I guess I'm going
to become the Cake Lady

and not tell my sister
about it"?

No, I just...
I didn't tell anyone.

I found the Cake Lady's last
order still tacked to the tree

and I thought,
"I've always loved cake.

Maybe I could make one."

Oof. That is almost exactly how
I came to be in charge

of the town dump
for a brief time in the '90s.

So I tried making cakes,
because why not, right?

You got to live,
and it turned out

I was pretty good at it.

But the Feast Cake is
a whole nother beast... cake.

Well, surely you got
to have some ideas.

Uh, maybe we can workshop 'em.

Here's the list I made
in the library at lunch today.

Okay, it says "pie"
crossed out seven times

and then "cake."

Well, cake's a good start.

What about... plain cake?

Or‐‐ here's
a delicious cake idea‐‐

you could've told me,

your Alaskan twin,

aka best friend and...

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Uh, or what about a cake

shaped like a cupcake
but so big?

I'm just gonna say
what we're all thinking.

Dirt.
You can eat it if you have to.

I got to go
figure this out on my own.

Great. He'll just go do
something all by himself,

which is, well,
something I'm totally fine with.

Ooh, or what about a cake
shaped like a little cupcake

and everybody gets one?

Uh, that's
just regular cupcakes, babe.

Oh, yeah. You're right.
It is. Great call.

- Uh, is something wrong, Judy?

You finished that smoothie
17 minutes ago.

There's nothing left in there.

Something is very wrong.

Ham took up a new interest
without telling me.

Oh. I hope it's not kites.

To watch a man fly a kite
is just gross.

No, he's just baking.

But he's never shut me out
like this before.

Well, it sounds like Ham's got
his own thing going on,

and that's perfectly natural.

People outgrow
their dysfunctional

codependent sibling
relationships all the time.

We say "Alaskan twins."

Sure. Fine.
My point is,

Ham's individuating
and you have to set him free,

like a bird.

Or a lynx that you brought home

because it was cute
but then turned out to be

not that great of a pet.

I'm a firm believer
in letting everything go.

Friends, family, your boyfriend,

his lover.

But not his lover's boyfriend.

: Oh. Gregory makes
an amazing banana bread.

- It's so moist.
- Oh, yeah.

It's unspeakably moist.

It's almost damp.

I know it takes time

to break in new gloves,
but maybe a better name

for Holdems
might've been Razor Mittens.

- : Or Lil' Bleedies.
- Why don't you take 'em off

- if they're bothering you
so much?
- Bothering me?

No way. I actually feel better

when my hands hurt a lot,
believe it or not.

That was
just a primal battle scream

meant to pump us up.

You feeling pumped up,
my Beef man?

- Here, gimme th...
- Uh‐uh, Dad.

This is the kind
of stick‐tuitiveness

you can expect
to see from me on dash day.

Ooh! Ah! Eeh!

Oh, this pressure is insane!

The last Cake Lady is so lucky
she's in jail.

Oh, hello, Brother.
How goeseth the Feast Cake?

- Ugh. Not good.
- Oh, very well then, Hamuel.

Since this is your personal
private affair

and not both of ours, together,

I shall
take my leave of you now.

Um, okay. I'll just be down here
not making the Feast Cake.

Hm. Have a pleasant evening,
Mr. Tobin.

You have to set him free,
like a bird!

Or a lynx that you brought
home because it was cute,

but then turned out to be
not that great of a pet.

Oof. Ham's really crappin'
the cake pan down there, huh?

Yes, and it is his prerogative
to do so.

He is an Alaskan singleton
now, as am I.

Two individuals, living as two.

But you're Alaskan twins!

Yeah, well,
only in name these days.

Alyson said
I need to let him go.

But you hate letting things go!

I know! I still have
all my retainers.

Even my SpongeBob SquarePants
retainer:

SpongeMouth StraightTeeth!

Okay, so, maybe you don't have
to let him go.

I mean, I didn't get
to be the living legend

I am today all by myself.

Of course not.
You had an entire team

of managers, hair and makeup,
midwives, etcetera,

at every step along the way!

Yes, and that's exactly
the kind of encouragement

and support that Ham needs.

So maybe instead
of letting him go,

you just need to hold
onto him differently,

like, side‐hug him or something.

Ah. I'll side‐hug him
first thing in the morning.

Ham?

"I'm sorry. I can't do it.

"Gone to turn in my whisk
and let the town know

"that I've failed them. Ham.

"P.S. Do you have any idea wher
I might turn in my whisk?

P.P.S. Never mind. I have
to figure this out alone."

Okay, okay, okay,
there's the mayor. I'll just

go over to him
and hand him my whisk,

and say, "Here's my whisk."

And he'll say, "Okay.
Why are you handing me a whisk?"

And I'll say, "Because I'm not
baking a cake this year."

And he'll say, "Oh, okay.
Do you want your whisk back?"

And I'll say, "No. You keep
the whisk, Dear Mayor."

And we will take a picture
with me, him and the whisk.

And he will make me his deputy!

Ham, stop right there!

Alaskan twins
don't let each other

turn in their whisks.

Look, while my canvas is
improv, poetry,

theater, dance
and actual canvas...

Oh, and frankly,
I mean, look, let's just...

The world around me inspires me.

Your canvas is cake,
and inside you,

there's an amazing
not‐people cake.

But it would be crazy,
and frankly unsafe,

to expect you to give birth
to something that big

without the help
of a licensed midwife.

Judy,
are you a licensed midwife?

Some day, perhaps
for a brief time after college.

But what I'm saying is...

Requesting permission
to report for cake duty, sir.

Fall in, Private Icing. Fall in.

They say dead men tell no tales,
but this reminds me of a story.

Shh. Your body is of the earth.

Your limbs are still.
Your flesh is food.

Whoa! I honestly never...

Your mouth is shut.

Your head is not nodding.

Judy, is there
a reason I'm in my bathing suit?

Just to manage
my own expectations.

We're not going to a water park?

If you want to make a Feast Cake

that really embodies the spirit
of the early settlers,

then you need
to be an early settler,

in all that they endured.
Are you cold?

- Yes.
- Are you hungry?

I had some chips.

That's no good. Don't use that.

All that was, no longer is.

All that was, no longer is.

All that was, no longer is.

Think of a time
when you were hungry.

Uh, I wanted the food,
but I couldn't have the food.

Yes! And bring that to the now!

I want the food,
but I can't have the food!

- Keep going!
- I...

Yes, Ham. What?!

I am the food!

And what do you see?!

I see people, Judy!

Not not people.

Not not people.

I know what I need to do.

Okay great.
All that was, no longer is.

And etcetera. Got it.

Okay, I mean, we should probably
spend a lot more time on this,

but it's dark, and I don't want
to miss tuck‐in.

Dad only makes one round.

If you're not in bed,
he just keeps walking.

- My God, you've done it.
- Done what?

Oh, the cake! Yeah!

Yup, yup, yup,
the cake, the cake. Yup. Yup.

Can you help me
with my competitor wristband?

Uh, these little bleedies
still aren't quite broken in.

Okay. Ooh. Uh, Wolf?

What? What is it?

"Turn Holdems right side out
before wearing"?!

:
Oh, God. Does that mean...?

No! Get them off! Dad, get 'em.

Oh, no. I had too many liqs!

That's what I call liquids!

Son, I think something
just spilled in your pocket

from your penis
all over your pants.

That's pee... from my blad!

Come on, buddy. That's okay.

- Oh, God, your hands!
- I'm a monster!

A monster covered in urine!

And my abs hurt when I sob
because of that dumb abpp!

- Let's go, uh, win that trophy!

- And up!
- It's no use, Dad!

You were right not to want
to do this with me!

The only thing I'm good at
is letting you down.

You haven't let me down, Wolf.

- You've lifted me up!
- No, I haven't.

My hands, Dad. Did you forget?

Your hands are
a terrifying inspiration.

A hideous testament
to your passion.

- They are?
- After all these years

and all these wins, I had lost
the thrill of true hardship.

But now, seeing you out here

in your pee‐pee pants
with your bloody paws,

sobbing like a crazy baby
but still going,

you've made me proud
to be on Team Tobin again.

Thanks, Dad. Let's do this.

Nope, sorry, can't.
No way, no how.

Yes, you can! I've got too much
swagger to be a cadaver.

Yeah!
Okay! Now let's win that trophy!

Diondra is going to lose her
newscaster mind over this cake.

Do you think she'll call you
the "Bad Boy of Cake"

or the "Cake Whisperer"?

No. No, no, no, no!
The engine can't give out now!

Jean Claude Van damn it!

Ugh!
The countdown clock is probably

almost all counted down.
We'll never make it in time.

And the cake is too heavy for
the two of us to carry that far!

Ham, don't give up!

I think
I see the cadaver dashers!

- Help!
- Wait. Do you hear that?

- Judy?
- Judy?

Dad! Wolf!
We need hands over here!

Try again
for that trophy next year?

Dad, I promise you that my bod
will be so smokin' by then.

Moon, come on, we've got to go
help your brother and sister.

Man, he's good. See you later,
little Daniel Dead‐Lewis.

- Careful, careful.
- Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

- Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!
- Uh, you know what?

Maybe I'll help carry,
and you can just direct us?

You got it, Cake Lady.

- Five, four, three, two...
- Step back, everyone!

- Step back!
- The Feast Cake!
- There it is!

Hello, everyone.
It's me, Ham Tobin.

But you might know me better
as... the Cake Lady.

‐ ‐No way!

Yes, believe it.

And I'm here to reveal
to you my very first Feast Cake.

I hope you like it.

It's a people!

My eyes!

No! Don't look away!

But we eat not people
in this town!

I am confused.
So, are we not eating people,

or not not eating people now?

I'm fine either way.
Just someone let me know.

No, we don't eat people,

but we are afraid
that we used to eat them,

and that somehow,
we might eat them again.

It wasn't
until my sister Judy took me

into the woods for a non‐sexual

role‐playing exercise
that I finally realized.

The best thing you can do
with a fear is confront it.

Me facing my cake fear means
that we can all face our fears.

My fear that my ears will slide
right off my head in the shower?

Yes, uh‐huh, sure.
But also our biggest fear!

Our fear of the truth.

The early settlers
didn't eat not people.

What they ate, what we ate,
was people.

Ham Tobin is right.

We used to rely on each other
to be food,

but now, we rely on each other
to be friends.

Damn it, Peppers, you got me.

Cake Lady, would you
do us the honor

of cutting the first slice
of people?

I'd be honored to do that honor,
Your Honor.

It's okay.
It's just runny Jell‐O.

Mmm...

Mm‐mm‐mm.
Diondra Tundra here live

with the final Feast report,
where facing our fears

never tasted so good,
thanks to Lone Moose's new

William Cake‐speare,
Cake Lady Ham Tobin.

Well, imaginary best friend
Alani‐‐

Whoa!
Just coming out here to see

if any of the shingles
need replacing.

Out here talking
to yourself again?

- Hmm. Yeah.
- Aw, that's cool.

I‐I won't take up
too much of your time.

I just wanted to say
thanks for your help.

That's what Alaskan twins
are for.

Yeah, I don't know
what I'd do without you.

Probably die or, like,
maybe come up with

some other coping mechanism.

- Same. Do you have time
for our secret handshake?
- Always.

Flim, flam, Judy, Ham.

I am scallop, you are clam.

Underwater, out of sight,

Mollusks in the dark of night.

It's spooky.
It's spooky!

- Oh, hey.
- Hey, what?

- Night vision.
- Let's strut.

Brother‐sister‐brother‐sister‐
brother‐sister‐brother‐sister.

Clap, chihuahua.
Snap, clap chihuahua.

I said clap, chihuahua.
Snap, clap chihuahua.

- What?
- Wha...

I went to school
and took a look,

and this is how I read my book.

"Happy families are all alike.

Every unhappy family
is unhappy in its own..."

waaaay out!
Waaaay out!

Outhouse, outmouse,
out tailored blouse.