Original subtitles

- ♪ Look up there ♪ - ♪ What do you see? ♪

♪ Nature and stuff ♪

- ♪ Like a rock ♪ - ♪ And a tree ♪

♪ Oh, the Great North ♪

♪ Way up here, you can breathe the air ♪

♪ Catch some fish ♪

♪ Or gaze at a bear ♪

♪ Wow ♪

♪ Oh, the Great North ♪

♪ Here we live, oh, oh ♪

♪ Here we'll stay, oh, whoo ♪

♪ From longest night to longest day ♪

♪ In the Great North. ♪

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.

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.

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.

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.

♪ Here we are stuck together ♪

♪ Working till the break of day ♪

♪ Side by side, it feels so good ♪

♪ To feel this way ♪

♪ We're making something good ♪

♪ To greet the day ♪

♪ To greet the day. ♪

- 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.

♪ There's a jar full of teeth ♪

♪ It's been sitting out all week ♪

♪ And I wish I knew how many teeth were in it ♪

♪ So I'll look at it and I'll focus ♪

♪ Because if your guess is closest ♪

♪ Then you get to keep the jar, that's right, you win it ♪

♪ And there's nothing in the world ♪

♪ That I couldn't do ♪

♪ With that big old batch of fangs in my life ♪

♪ She'd be my wife ♪

♪ Oh, those teeth would complete me ♪

♪ I would kiss each one so sweetly ♪

♪ Oh, how many teeth can be inside that jar? ♪

>>>>oakislandtk www.opensubtitles.org