Original subtitles

Ugh, I hate when people do that. He clearly just wants someone

to ask what he's sighing about.

I mean, get to the point, Miss Thing.

I'm trying to restart "Miss Thing."

Well, it was fun while it lasted, I guess,

but I guess hard work and a lifetime of public service

means nothing to this town.

Mayor Webb does this every time his term is up.

He just mopes around until somebody begs him to run again.

Well, thank God for the Last Supper.

‘Cause when I'm no longer mayor,

this here booth's gonna be my home.

Oh, no, no, no, no, we cannot have

that Eeyore here all the time.

He will drive us crazy.

You know what? I'm gonna get ahead of this,

go over there and give him a little pep talk.

shave those face pubes, cry less,

move out of your mother's condo, kill yourself.

Mayor Webb, I just came over here to say we all want you

to run for reelection.

The town needs you, man.

Really? Aw, that's so nice.

I mean, I wasn't fishing or anything, but thank you

for your unprompted support.

Speaking of, my mother usually helps with my campaign,

but...

...she passed.

Oh, really? Oh, Mayor Webb, I'm so sorry.

No, no, it's totally fine.

I guess maybe I could help you?

Whoa, jackpot!

Hey, see you tomorrow, Ms. Campaign Manager.

Campaign manager?

Explain to me again why Mayor Webb

needs a campaign manager.

He's running unopposed.

Is he scared he might lose to Greenpoint's

favorite write-in candidate, "Farts"?

I know it's ridiculous, but I had no choice.

If he doesn't win, he's gonna be hanging around

the Last Supper constantly.

Plus, did you know his mother just passed away?

Oh, no. He must be devastated.

They're so, mm, weirdly close.

Weren't they married at some point?

I'm pretty sure that's just a rumor.

See, I love that nobody ever runs against Webb,

because I can't stand what elections do to people.

Arguments breaking out, Thanksgivings ruined,

the normally calming oases of Facebook and Twitter

becoming war zones.

I honestly wish every election was unopposed.

-What? -Yeah.

Just one guy-- or lady-- in every election.

It makes it easier on everybody. No choice necessary.

Wayne, I don't know how to tell you this, but that's fascism.

No way.

It's just one person who looks out for us,

and we do not question him, no matter what.

How can you vote and I can't?

Why are you helping that fool?

A dustpan with a face would be a better mayor.

Even the guy I usually vote for, Farts,

would make a better mayor.

Now here's a town in Texas that has a cute

little doggy for a mayor.

They used to be known for having a lake that caught on fire.

I mean, the lake is still on fire,

but now they got a dog mayor.

That's what you call smart PR.

What do you have against Webb?

That man's had a personal vendetta against me

since the moment he took office.

Okay, Miss Thing.

What? I heard that's coming back.

Why, just last week, that dumb-butt Webb

refused to waive a parking ticket

that I received for no reason.

There I was, just trying

to get myself a toasty beef sandwich.

The Quiznos parking lot was a zoo, as always,

so I parked in my usual spot, across the street.

-And they had the gall to ticket me.

So, naturally, once I'd obtained my fresh beef sandwich,

I marched on down to city hall

and gave the mayor a piece of my mind.

Betty, I can't cancel your ticket.

You're blocking the emergency room.

There's a sign and everything, not that it needs a sign.

Because it's a friggin' emergency room.

Oh, so, what-- now if you want to use that spot,

you have to drive an ambulance?

Everyone in town driving an ambulance?

What, no more cars?

Well, goodbye, Detroit. Have a nice life.

Congrats, China, you win.

And it's all thanks

to Mayor Carrol "Pube Face" Webb,

who you have chosen to work for.

I am done talking now.

-Storming off.

Here's my office. This is where the magic happens.

Oh, did you know I'm also an amateur magician?

Watch the quarter.

Ta-da.

Let's just go over what kind of help you're gonna need.

Knock, knock. A citizen has arrived.

What are you doing here?

Well, now that I have someone on the inside,

I've got some parking tickets that need to be shredded.

Betty, you can't park on the grass.

Oh, so now every inch of land has to be paved?

No green space in the whole city?

Think of the drainage issues.

This man will have us living in Waterworld.

Get used to the taste of your own filtered pee-pee,

ladies and gentlemen.

Get out of here, Mother.

Gladly. Storm and slam.

Look at that.

You see how nice politics can be when you run unopposed?

Now doesn't that feel good?

No one fighting about anything.

It's like a warm hug that says, "Shh, it's done already."

Ooh, that's another good slogan.

No one else is picking up on

the obvious authoritarian vibes here?

Just me? Cool, cool.

Hello, Greenpointers. I'm Jenny Hart.

I know her!

Hi, David. And I am proud to be the campaign manager

for Mayor Webb.

You all know him, you've seen him around.

And, now, I know he's running unopposed...

Or is he?

Dear Lord. Please do not tell me

you are running for mayor.

Oh, don't worry. I'm not.

But I am the campaign manager

for a very exciting new candidate.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you

your next mayor,

-Root Beer.

Oh, please, Mother. People are not gonna fall for...

Aw!

A dog mayor? That'll put us on the map.

He's wearing a cowboy hat.

Like a real American.

Maybe we'll get to be on the fourth hour

of The Today Show.

A dog mayor?

That's just what this town needs.

Root Beer licked my knee.

-Root Beer licked my knee. Aw.

Mother...

Mother. Why are you doing this to me?

I'm not doing it against you.

I'm doing it against that corduroy noodle of a mayor.

Ugh, where did you even get that dog?

What? This is my dog.

Come here, Root Beer.

Aw.

Oh, I didn't know your mom was into politics.

She's not. She is only into herself,

no matter how many lives are ruined in the process.

Our only hope now is that she loses steam

and moves onto one of her many other vendettas.

I am not losing steam.

Cancel my many other vendettas.

Well, good morning, sleepyhead.

Looks like your campaign's getting off to a late start.

Mother, it's 6:00 in the morning.

Oh, is it that late already?

I've had a busy morning putting together my staff.

Including the best social media team Greenpoint has to offer.

Sorry, Mom. We thought about it,

and we just really want a dog mayor.

Also, she's paying us a hundred dollars each.

You're paying all these people? Where is this money coming from?

The donations are rolling in.

Hey, listen, Betty. When y'all win,

you got to get the food inspector off my back.

My girls can't be expected to dance in hairnets.

Now city hall will stop bothering me

for stealing people's mail.

Thank you, Root Beer.

I need to have my house rezoned.

I want to open an American Ninja Warrior practice gym.

So you're just openly taking bribes?

-What the hell is going on out here?

Just my mother finding new and unique ways to ruin my life.

Okay, this right here is why I don't like two-party elections.

It's already bringing out the worst in people.

I see no other solution except that I have to go dig up

some dirt on this dog and disappear him ASAP.

One candidate, one choice, everyone happy, or else.

Jenny. Bad news flash.

A bunch of raccoons took over my office.

It's my fault.

I left a bunch of drinkable yogurts on the fax machine.

We got to run the campaign out of here now.

Oh, God.

All right, listen, we are in a fight now.

I am not gonna lose to her.

Don't you mean I'm not gonna lose to that dog?

Shut up.

No, I changed my mind.

I don't want you to shut up.

I want you to get up, stand up

And somehow transform yourself into a leader.

Now give me a sound-bite, give me a quotable.

My mother usually helps me with that,

but she passed.

That's a terrible sound-bite.

What is that in your hand?

-A two-piece chicken nuggets. -What the hell?

Do you order from a toddler's menu?

Think about the optics.

Whoa. Mom, this might be a bad time to tell you this,

‘cause it seems like you're already mad,

but I think we just made something

that's gonna make you mad.

-Try not to be more mad. Bye. -Consider this

a professional courtesy. Bye.

America. Patriatizium.

Greenpoint. Root Beer.

Root Beer has what it takes to lead Greenpoint.

He has vowed to change

our outdated parking laws on day one.

He will build dozens of more Quiznos.

We need a real American hero

to turn this crap town around.

Root Beer proudly served overseas

as a bomb-sniffing K-9.

And, unlike Mayor Webb,

Root Beer will recognize Martin Luther King Day.

What? I love MLK. Junior and Senior.

Real classy, Mother. Just spreading lies.

Satisfied smirk.

Thanks for agreeing to talk with me.

I hear you have some dirt on Root Beer.

Root Beer? Oh, yeah.

There is a lot of dirt on this dog.

That's what I'm talking about.

Well, I should say, there was a lot of dirt on him,

when he arrived at the shelter.

He's a hurricane survivor.

But he did give me this scar.

-How else was that little hero

gonna pull me out of my burning car?

-I'll tell you one thing, though.

That dog put a lot of kids in the hospital.

-Oop-- nope, sorry.

I should have said visited a lot of kids in the hospital.

I don't know why I said "put."

Oh, what is wrong with you, lady?

Like I said, I'm not so good with people.

Uh, you never said that.

Welp, thanks for your no help.

Pleasure's all mine.

Now I got to go put all these dogs down.

-Oh, no! -No, no, no, no, no.

I mean it's their nap time. I'm gonna read 'em this.

Good Lord.

You're getting powned by a dog.

Do you understand everyone in this town

is working for Root Beer?

All we have is just you, me and Wayne.

Guys,

-I quit. -What?

I tried to dig up dirt on Root Beer,

and all I found was heroic stories.

Do you know how many toddlers he has rescued from wells?

26, Jenny. 26!

He's the perfect leader.

He wags the wag and he barks the bark.

Does everyone forget what I've done for this town?

I was wagging and barking for years.

Remember when I played Sandy the dog

in our community theater production of Annie?

What happened to just wanting one candidate?

Nothing. But that one candidate needs to be Root Beer.

I think you should drop out,

and everyone should just accept Root Beer as their leader.

Look at this poster I made for our sovereign ruler.

Wayne, I'm starting to hear some of the subtle stuff

Violet was picking up on.

Just go take your supreme leader for a walk.

Ha-ha-ho, it would be an honor.

Whoo, looks like it's just you and me now, Jenny.

Yeah, I can already feel us bonding.

Now, after we lose,

we can take a little trip together.

There's a Renaissance faire in Boone

with our names on it.

Now, I know what you're thinking--

"I have nothing to wear"--

but worry not, milady.

You can don Mother's bar wench outfit.

It's pretty revealing.

-Stop,

you baby-handed mouse.

We are not going to the Renaissance faire

because we are not gonna lose this election.

We're going dirty.

-Aah!

Climate change.

Taxes.

Gas prices.

Long lines.

Traffic.

Inflation.

Time-lapse of an elephant decomposing.

ISIS.

Final goodbyes.

Root Beer.

What do those things have in common?

Do you really want to find out?

I'm Mayor "Bullseye" Webb.

And I approve this message.

That's why they call me...

Bullseye!

How the hell did you make that, Stephanie Spleelburg?

Let's just say I had some help

from your former social media team.

You little baby Judases.

Gram, you totally stiffed us.

And when we confronted you, you fired us.

So much for loyalty.

That commercial was way out of line.

See, this is why we need Root Beer

in charge of the media, Miss Thing.

Okay, he's completely wrong.

But he did nail that "Miss Thing."

I am telling you, it is back.

Good evening, Miss Things.

Well, we have finally arrived at election night.

Ooh, oh, whoa.

Root Beer the dog had a commanding lead,

but after a spate of horrific campaign events

and a recent barrage of attack ads,

experts are calling the election a toss-up.

Guys, this is almost over.

Now, can't you two lunatics just shake hands and move on?

Mother, like the dog you work for,

I did not roll over. Not this time.

You might not have rolled over,

but in the end, you'll be playing dead.

Wow, that could not have backfired more spectacularly.

Breaking news. With all precincts reporting,

we have a winner.

Greenpoint's next mayor will be...

...Root Beer! Ooh-wee!

Suck it, y'all!

Things are about to change around here.

As per Root Beer, all parking tickets are now null and void.

And starting right now, we're doing reverse weekends.

Two days on, five days off.

Party all week.

-Yes!

And stop signs are now "Hurry The Hell Up" signs!

And instead of giving tickets, cops are now Coinstar machines.

-And pennies are worth a dollar.

And dollars are worth a nickel.

Anything can be a coupon.

And anyone can fly any helicopter.

And if your name starts with a "B" and ends with "Y,"

guess what-- you get one full box of wine every day.

Also, we're bringing back milkmen,

but only if they're hot and willing.

And I'm the final say. On that and everything.

And, Wayne, you'll like this one.

No more elections.

Okay, shoot. I get it now.

Democracy's good.

Now, let's get to work on those statues. Root Beer?

Root Beer?

Oh, don't give me that judgy look of yours.

Sure, everybody loves you, but you don't know

what you're doing. You're a dog.

Yes, it is technically kidnapping.

But someone had to do something.

Look, I'm not gonna feel guilty about this.

We are doing

the right thing.

And don't give me those eyes about the car ride.

You had your head stuck out the window

and you were loving it.

Your snoot was going all over the place.

Just work with me, Root Beer.

Okay, we need to get you incognito.

The goal is somewhere between Joan Jett and Rick Springfield.

Just let me do my thing.

Where is the mayor-elect?

I made him this dog-sized sash.

The dog hasn't been seen in hours.

Where the hell are you, you dumb rat?

I found his leash.

That's certainly not a good sign.

Whoops, sorry. Ha. That's my leash.

Do not ask what it's for. It's for sex.

We're officially without a mayor.

That means all laws are suspended!

-Ooh!

Violet, have you seen your mother?

Yes, Wayne. My eyes were focused on my mom

while Brenda put on a dog collar

and both Randy's legs bent the wrong way.

You could have just said no, Vi.

Jenny, where are you?

I'm at the grocery store.

Wow, they have some really good deals

on ground turkey right now.

Jenny, don't you lie to me about turkey deals.

I know you took Root Beer.

And since you're a Hart woman,

I'm guessing you've already crossed state lines

and started dying your hair.

Actually, I am right at state lines,

and I am dying... Root Beer's hair.

So you're wrong on both counts. Ha! I win.

Jenny, come on. There's been too much mudslinging and lies.

It's truth time.

You're crazy. Your mom's crazy.

Now, just bring that dog back, and let's stop this chaos.

No. I am not giving her the satisfaction.

Stay still, Root Beer.

Then what are you gonna do?

I got it all worked out.

I'm gonna change my name to "Donna Romero."

Root Beer will become a Latino dog named "Chacho."

We'll move every three months,

and I'll communicate with you guys via coded Craigslist ads.

Perfect plan.

Well, before I say goodbye to you forever,

I just want to give you a little advice.

The only way you're gonna find peace is to figure out a way

not to let your mother get to you.

She's not ever gonna change, so don't let her change you.

Oh, well.

Might as well finish the look before we go home.

Uh, what happened?

Yeah, your mother's the only one in charge.

That's what happened.

Mother, Root Beer's back.

What are y'all talking about?

Root Beer's right here.

I don't even want to know.

Mother, this has gotten way out of hand.

I'm sorry for my part in it, but you need to step down ASAP.

Agreed. This job majorly sucks.

-Huh? -Everyone wants me to make good

on their bribes.

Stream of losers flowing in here,

-asking for handouts.

Plus, for reasons I do not understand,

the town is suddenly in chaos.

I think I know someone who can help.

Oh, you don't really want me to take over as assistant mayor.

Oh, please, please.

We do, Mayor Webb.

Yes, you're the best.

We need you so bad.

Is that the census taker, Carrol?

Hey! Is-is that your mother in there?

The one and only.

I thought... you said... she passed!

Yeah, passed on being my campaign manager.

What else could that possibly mean?

Oh, my God, listen to me.

You're the only person in this town

who likes filling out dumb forms and balancing stupid budgets.

So stop feeling sorry for yourself,

pull up your big boy corduroys, and just take the job!

I accept!

Thank God.

Here, take your boss for a walk.

He's your responsibility now.

I get to keep the mayor?

Carrol, did you draw my bath?

Better get on it, or I'll have no choice

but to grab the paddle!

Wives... I-I mean mothers, right?

Got to love 'em.

Well, I guess our relationship could be a lot more messed up.

It sure could.

All right, your bath

and sponge boy are ready, Miss Thing!

And "Miss Thing" is dead.

I'll have the hot meat sandwich, please.

I don't know what that is, ma'am.

Oh, sure you do.

You make it for me all the time.

Is Chrissy here? She'll make it.

No one named Chrissy works here.

Oh, sure, she does. Chrissy!

No Chrissy has ever worked here.

Chrissy'll sort this out.

Meanwhile, I'll just have a P'Zone.

We don't have that.

You're out of P'Zones?

That's not a product we make.

I think that's Pizza Hut.

Hand to God, Chrissy made me a P'Zone here

just last Saturday.

Ma'am, that had to have been

a completely different restaurant.

Geez, this place has really gone downhill

since Chrissy left.

Okay, I have a partial sandwich in my purse.

Could y'all just run it through your toasting conveyor belt

-for me? -No.

I don't understand why y'all's slogan

is "have it your way."

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH