Original subtitles

Who here can tell me what a school president does?

Bans ugly school uniforms.

Organizes school events for no apparent reason. Makes people call him El

Presidente.

A school president represents the students and initiatives ways to improve

school on their behalf.

The right answer is never funny.

What about making slogan buttons and bossing volunteers around?

That would be the campaign manager.

Ooh, sounds like a job I was born to do.

Now, if I only had a president to campaign manage.

What?

Me?

No! What do you think, guys?

R for president.

I second it. I third.

And fourth it.

What number do I text to cast my vote?

What do you say, Rebecca?

In so many words, I guess so.

That's the kind of energy this campaign needs.

Watching the time pass, can't wait to get out, live it out with my friends,

out what's new, don't question on who, and if that room is true, it's a whole

new scene, in the pages of my magazine.

president will be spectacular.

We'll have lunch five past right, the big loggers, and get out of gym forever

note.

And you have your next teen buzz article.

True, but I am a little nervous about running for school president. What's

to worry about? It's the school election.

Promise less homework and watch the votes roll in.

Hi, I'm Cody Herman, a man of the people.

And I want you to vote for me because I know what this school needs.

It needs...

The Herman.

Cody, we know each other.

Sure we do.

I was your peer editor at Team Buzz.

I organized your going away party.

Still not ringing any bells.

The girl who had a crush on you?

I never had a crush on you.

Right?

Anyway, at least I can count on your vote. I'm running in the election

Ooh, dark horse.

Well, uh, good luck, miss.

As if cookies win elections.

Lemon ginger with just the right amount of zest.

We'd better get baking.

Wilder's column is gamer gold.

You're too kind, gentle reader.

Wilder's column puts the X in extreme from...

Tony Hawk?

What's that, Tony Hawk?

Wilder should stop talking to his laptop and write his article.

Good idea.

You can channel Tony Hawk.

Ask him if he got the video of me doing a fakey 360 kickflip.

Wilder, just get off Buzz's feedback form and write your article.

Sure, DJ.

Wilder's column is okay?

Since Marty Sam?

Okay.

Dear Smarty Sam, in regards to your recent comment, I have to say that it's

good.

Booyah! That's telling him.

Done already?

Yep. You know, DJ usually has some sort of perk for the first person to finish

the article.

I heard this week it's tickets to go see Simple Plan.

But first, points off for hitting me in the head.

It's a tie.

But it won't be once you uncouple my article on music mashes and see that it

beats Amanda's expose on crinolines.

Though not, it takes skills to make people buy clothing that makes their

derriere look bigger.

Why don't you two just share this week's perk for finishing first?

I've heard of this sharing thing, but I've never actually tried it.

Here, you two will write Team Buzz's advice column this week.

Advice column?

What happened to Simple Plan?

I will never be first at anything again.

Yay! I've always wanted to give advice to needy strangers.

Hey, we vote a lot. It's time to the campaign trail.

I book you to speak to the football team, test club, and the urgency dance

troupe. But these pamphlets need me.

Pamphlets don't win elections.

Pizazz wins elections.

I got pizazz, and here it is in 5 ,000 words.

Orders don't want to read. They want to meet you, see you, like you.

Give them a 5 ,000 -word smile.

Here.

Put this on.

What for?

You're talking to the dance troupe.

Orders want to feel like you're one of them, and it wouldn't hurt to practice

your jazz run.

Lift, lift, and smile.

Dear Teen Buzz, what's the best way to break up with someone?

Easy. Hire a skywriter to write Later Loser.

Signed, Dr. Noah.

That's mean even by my standards.

Here's how you do it.

First, make sure your birthday isn't coming up. Needy guys give the best

presents. Then, break up with him in a place where he can't make a scene. I

suggest the library under the shh sign.

Oh, look. According to my wrist, I need to go.

Okay. I guess we just won't finish this article and we'll disappoint DJ.

And my father, who owns this magazine and has the power to ruin our careers?

Fine. Time to buckle down.

Let's do this.

Write this baby.

But first, another game of quarterback ball.

Scores.

It's this campaign schedule Michael made.

It's like a rock star tour. I bounce from venue to venue, people cheer, and

I'm gone. The only thing missing is the smoke machine.

Sounds awesome. I have always wanted to go on a rock and roll tour.

Mr. Shepard, don't be that guy.

Check. Michael hasn't scheduled time for me to talk about school issues.

He treats this election like a popularity contest.

which kind of goes against my article. Elections are not a popularity contest.

True, but maybe your campaign could use a little, uh... Ooh!

Spice! Hmm.

Uh, you know, to get them to, uh, listen to your ideas, you might have to get

their attention with a little, uh... Hot stuff.

Sorry, Mr. Shepard, but this candidate will not sell out.

Even if I am going to talk to the dance troupe, I will not wear a pink unitard

just to get their votes.

Hello, Mr. Shepard.

Here's my campaign schedule for your approval.

Thank you, Cody. I'll

just need about two hours to read this over.

Hi, Rebecca.

I heard your jazz run was pretty weak.

The dance troupe was much more impressed with my side shuffle.

Dear Smarty Sam, I see you have logged on to the Teen Buzz forum, yet have not

apologized.

Do so now, or I will spam you to infinity. Or until your inbox is full.

Dude.

Hey, DJ.

My article.

I'm finishing up right now.

Oh, hey, DJ. Could you hold? I've got you on the other line.

DJ! Walter, I see you're on Buzz's forum.

The homepage is bright orange.

You've left me no other choice but to deactivate your account until you finish

your article.

No fair. You shouldn't be able to see this. School is a DJ -free zone.

Why are you in a DJ -free zone?

Because I'm an editor, and wherever my journals are is my zone.

Vote for Cody, and I'll make this a DJ -free zone.

Dear Teen Buzz, how do I tell a girl I like her? Hold your fingers for the

basket. How's that going to work?

Enough with the basketball.

You put $400 worth of quarters and we haven't answered one question.

You're not taking this seriously.

Sure I am.

If I think this one, I beat my record.

BJ, expect us to hand in the column by tomorrow.

No problem.

I'll do half the questions and you'll do the other half.

And then we'll put them together.

It'll be like magic, and DJ won't even know the difference.

But Dateless and Dixbury will.

Bob, this is more heart -wrenching than the time my mom sold my Kelly Clarkson

bobblehead doll at a garage sale.

The pre -poll results are in, and you're dead last.

There's only two of us.

That makes me second.

Don't work your political spin on me. The Herman leads in all demographics.

Jocks, cool kids, nerds, even students who would normally vote for Rebecca

Harper. How can the Herman be winning by that much?

Doesn't anyone else find him annoying?

You call it annoying. The people call it inspiring razzle -dazzle. I call it

cheap political stunts, and I will not dip to that level. Well, check it out

first.

Thank you. Thank you. We're too much. Thank you. Thank you so much. That's

Herman. Nice to meet you. Remember, politics is the popular vote.

The Herman is going down.

Read it and weep. Pure advice gold.

Heartbroken in Hanover wrote,

First love dumped me for my twin sister's best friend's little brother's

babysitter. What do I do?

You answered, get over it.

That is not sensitive advice.

No, but it's firmly based in reality, unlike yours.

How's wear purple eyeshadow going to help this girl make the soccer team?

It's color karma.

Purple is lucky.

Oh, yeah, that makes total sense.

And I was going to say practice.

At least I didn't answer every question in three words.

Get over it.

Forget about it. Eat a sandwich.

To be fair, the last one was my advice to Skinny Pete from Peterborough.

Let's just hand this in to DJ.

Not unless you want DJ to fire us.

Splitting the questions didn't work.

We need to do this my way.

You're not serious.

Handcuffs? To force us to work together? Did you watch some sort of sitcom

cliche marathon on TV last night?

Yeah, and it worked there.

Well, I guess I should be grateful you didn't watch the slasher marathon.

I'd like to be the first to extend my condolences.

What? Well, you ran a good campaign, but the people have spoken.

Their hands have been shaken. The polls are in. The balloons have dropped.

The people haven't even voted yet.

Avoiding a crushing loss by withdrawing from the election was a solid political

move. Would you, uh, like to be my date to the victory party?

No.

And I haven't quit yet, and you haven't won.

Come on, Herman.

issues, policies, and more things that matter. None of it mattered. It's like

your campaign slogan says, politics is the popular vote.

Campaign slogan writer.

But I'm your slogan writer.

You're fired!

Super Hacker Wilder cannot be banned from Buzz's feedback forum.

Tab, backslash, A with a circle around it. Booty line, enter.

Now we're in.

You're busted.

Open me up. I'm scared.

Open the laptop, Wilder.

Are you future DJ?

No, I'm present DJ.

on my webcam. Remember? The one that you installed?

Curse me and my own tech savvy.

You entered a wilder free zone.

Sorry, DJ, but I need to email Smarty Sam.

You need to write your article.

If you try to enter Team Buzz's feedback form again, I will suspend you. Oh,

you're spending some wires like a movie set ninja?

Oh, you mean the city or death, say nothing, and daydream about the ultimate

sandwich. Yes.

Fine, DJ.

Ouch! Sorry, DJ.

We have to read you all the questions you gave Liam advice to.

Excuse me while I reach way over here.

That joke got old the first billionth time you did it.

Come on, Amanda, do the wave.

Why are you torturing me?

What did you expect?

You handcuffed yourself to a real -life prankster. I expected you to get tired

of it and do what I want you to do. As if I'd ever get tired of this.

Stop it! School president's candidate speech is starting in five minutes. Be

there. Time out.

But after the speeches, we're doing the chicken dance.

You know, if you can play this game.

Come on, Amanda.

We have to make funny faces at Rebecca while she says her speech.

Not until we finish writing this article.

books and comfy chairs.

Boring! That stuff doesn't win elections.

We're going for the comfy empty promises instead.

And I have more team buzz perks to give you, the students, if I'm elected Ernie

C. High president. Remember, fun freebies and more fun free stuff.

Vote Rebecca!

Thank you, Rebecca,

for that very enthusiastic speech.

have Cody Herman.

It's time for change.

It's time for real leadership.

It's time for new ideas.

And I have 5 ,000 words worth.

Those are my ideas.

Did Cody get those pamphlets out of the recycling bin?

No, his lackey did. Cody asked if they could use them.

you said yes?

Vote Cody Herman, because I care about our school.

You're going to give away my idea?

You weren't using them anymore. Besides, those pamphlets don't win you any

votes, so they won't win Cody any votes. In fact, he'll lose votes.

Say we just sit back and watch Cody sabotage his own campaign.

The Herman knows what this school needs.

Longer library hours before exam.

Healthier lunches in the cafeteria.

Less abrasive toilet paper in the bathroom.

Those are good.

Thinking back, I probably should have read the pamphlet before giving it to

opponent.

I just got beat by my own ideas.

We're not beat. Belly Talent totally trumps toilet paper.

Who wants Belly Talent t -shirts with genuine Belly Talent sweats?

Red Rover, Red Rover, I call Wilder over.

Dude,

that's so cheating.

Wilder, we're not playing Red Rover. We're trying to write our advice column.

Oh, yeah, advice. I need your help.

I wrote my problem down here.

Dear Team Buzz, I can't write my column unless I settle the score with Smarty

Sam, but I'm banned from the feedback form. What do I do?

Signed, Bewildered in Wilderville.

Dear Bewildered, give it up.

If you care about a loser's opinion, you become a loser.

It's good.

Darling Bewildered. Get someone else to contact Smarty Sam.

Someone like me. I'll have him groveling in 50 words or less.

Dude, both of your advice is sick.

The only way to choose is the flip. Got a coin?

Heads, I take Amanda's advice.

Tails, Noah's.

Teen buzz readers have coins.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

They're poor?

No. Let them flip to choose between our advice.

Like a he said, she said column? Exactly.

But what about me and Smarty Sam?

Make them stop.

How's that?

Dear Smarty Sam.

Okay.

Ta -da. I'm finished and ready to be picked off the wild article tree.

Pick like fruit. Get it?

but frown doesn't look like you get it.

I'm frowning because you wrote back to Smarty Sam.

Technically, I didn't do the typing. It doesn't matter, Wilder.

Huh.

I'll go pack my things.

Oh, but I'll leave my glow -in -the -dark mouse pad just for you.

Actually, I have better punishment than suspending you, making you read Smarty

Sam's reply.

Dear Wilder, your column makes knitting weekly seem extreme.

I've gotten better video game tips from a cereal box.

Game On is so wussy, my grandma reads it to put herself to sleep.

Now that is extreme feedback.

Extremely bad.

Exactly.

Oh, I'm so tired of saying this. I don't understand, Wilder.

It's simple. The ultimate insult for an extreme dude is okay.

Okay is Blastra.

This feedback is so extremely bad, it's wicked.

Finally, something my mom can put on her fridge.

How I won the election.

That's what my headline wouldn't have been if I hadn't lost.

My latest polls I drew up by one.

Someone reneged when I found out who it was.

Michael, it was me.

Rebecca, why?

Cody had the best ideas.

And under all that razzle -dazzle, he actually cared and didn't abandon the

issues like I did.

He could have had it all.

Recognition, respect, the key to the vending machine.

There's always homecoming king and queen.

Perfect.

I already have my crown.

Of course you do.

How did you think you'd have it here?

Here's our column, DJ.

Advice times two.

An Amanda and Noah answer to each question.

I love it. Yes.

Sometimes it's best not to ask.

So, do you want to make this a regular column or a special feature?

Can't decide.

Let's flip.