All language subtitles for The.Goldbergs.2013.S04E04.Crazy.Calls.1080p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-ViSUM_track3_[eng]

ADULT ADAM:
Back in the '80s,
the most terrifying place

in existence for any freshman
was the high-school cafeteria.

The table you chose defined
how you were labeled

and where you ranked
in the social hierarchy.

I don't see
any seats together.
What should we do?

Every man for himself.

If anyone asks,
I'm a skate rat now.

Ooh.

ADULT ADAM:
Classic Dave Kim.

Figuring out
where to sit, eh?

Yeah.
Ah, that's a sad dance
that I know all too well.

But lucky for you,
I'm a guidance counselor,

and I can guide you
to lunchroom success.

Um, maybe I could sit
with the preppies?

Come on, man.
You want to walk around
in boat shoes with no socks?

You want to invite that kind
of fungus in your life?

Okay. How about
the band geeks?

Do you even play
an instrument?
No, you don't.

So what makes you think
they're gonna just welcome you

into their unique
and beautiful fold?

Uh, maybe
the Goth kids?

The Goths?
They would eat you alive.

Seriously, I heard
they eat cats and stuff.

Come on!
I gotta sit somewhere!
Time's running out!

Agreed. And you're starting
to look real desperate,

and standing next to me
is not helping you.

Please, just go!
Mmm, okay.

ADULT ADAM:
I was officially tableless.

If I didn't find
a place to sit,

I'd be
a social pariah forever.

Hey, Goldberg,
come sit with us.

Just then the sportos
beckon me

to sit at the coolest table
in the cafeteria.

It was either a miracle
or a huge mistake.

Grab a chair, little man.

And the plate of waffle fries
is for sharing.

No offense to myself,
but I think you got
the wrong guy.

No way!

We all think it's awesome
that you're super into
movies, robots, He-Man.

Oh, so you're also
a He-head?

That's the name I've given
to die-hard He-Man fans.

That's cool.
It's also cool that, like,

the top of your head
smells so good.

Odd observation
from that distance,

but I do condition every day.

It shows, bro.
Nice.

Such luster.

Ah, balls!
She got to you!

No, man. We...
We like you for you.

God, my own mom
has to find me a table?

That's where my life is?

She gave us free waffle fries.
You get it.

She also yelled at us
and said that in time,
we'd come to love you.

Mom, I don't want
to hear any more!

Adam.

Mom,
you ruined my life!

Schmoo, you just
seemed so helpless
without a place to sit.

It's my job,
as your mama, to help.

Help?
That's the whole problem.

If you're gonna sub
at my school,

you have to start
respecting my boundaries.
Understand?

Boundaries.
Totally get it.

Do you?
Boundaries.

'Cause nothing up
to this point has led me
to believe you do.

I get boundaries, Adam.

You don't want me
to intervene or talk to you
while you're at school.

Good.
Until I see you struggle,

and then I come in
strong and hard.

Nope. Lost it.
Okay, okay.

We'll limit our interactions
to hallway snuggies...

Mom!
...and brief
Eskimo kisses.

Mom.
Grr. Fine.

I'll leave your little
kitten nose alone.

Thank you.
But at home,
all bets are off.

No!

� I'm twisted up inside

� But nonetheless
I feel the need to say

� I don't know the future

� But the past keeps getting
clearer every day �

ADULT ADAM:
It was October 12,
1980-something,

and my dad was coming home
to a familiar frustration.

Did anyone call
while I was out?

Yeah. I wrote it down
on the pad.

Flurt Burtman?
Who the hell's Flurt Burtman?

I don't know.
He was talking all fast,
'cause it was important.

Anyway,
call him back.
Call who back?

If it's important,
I need to know
the actual name.

I don't know.
I'm not invested,
because it wasn't for me.

What the hell's
this message? "PP"?

Oh, Barry wrote that.

My guess is he either
drank too much Mr. Pibb
or Pop Pop called?

Wait. My dad called?

He never uses the phone.

He always thinks
the Cubans are listening.

Oh, he calls
all the time.

He just says, "Tell the moron
I'll call him back."

Oh, so this is me giving you
those dozens of messages.

You know what?
This madness stops now.

ADULT ADAM:
My dad's solution...

The answering machine.

Before voicemail,
this bulky thing

was the best technology
the '80s had to offer.

Problem solved.

Holy crap! You got us
an answering machine?

Erica, come quick!

Dad did something
that doesn't suck!

Oh, my God!
An answering machine?

Stop, you morons.
It's not for you.

It's so I can finally
get my messages.

I'm doing
the outgoing message.

No way! I've been planning
for this my whole life.

(AS MR. T)
I don't want
no jibber-jabber, foo'!

Wait for the beep!

Stay in school,
and leave a message.

This is Mr. T,
by the way.
Get out of here.

(AS TONY MONTANA)
Say hello
to my little message.

This is Scarface,
by the way. Cocaine.

I'm leaving
the message.

There's a simple one
right here

in the instruction book.
No! It can't be you!

(NORMAL VOICE)
No! Don't read
the suggested script!

That's the worst option
of all.

Hello. You've reached
the answering machine

of the
Goldberg residence.

We either are unavailable
or unable

to get to the phone
at the moment,

but we would appreciate it
if you would leave

your name, telephone number,
business,

the person you're calling for,
and the time you called

after you hear the beep.

And we will be sure
to get back to you at our...

Come on! Everyone knows
how to do it.

I can't take it.
It's so long and explain-y.

Shut up!

Earliest convenience.

(CHUCKLES) Yeah.
I... I'm good with that.

ADULT ADAM:
As my dad got the win,

I was still a lone loser
without a table.

My only choice
was to accept my fate

of eating alone
under the bleachers.

That is, until I stumbled upon
my salvation.

Holy motherboard.

The high-school computer lab.

It had six state-of-the-art
Apple IIs,

each with double floppy drives
and a dot-matrix printer

that could ink a
whopping six lines per minute

on that weird paper
where you rip off the sides.

We're allowed
to be in here.
Okay.

Mr. Glascott says we can stay
the whole lunch period

as long as we don't
make crumbs,

which is why I bring
a thermos of soup every day.

Cool.

Whoa. Is that
Prince of Persia?

We've got it all...
Castle Wolfenstein,
Lode Runner,

Choplifter, and Ultima,
parts I, II, III, and IV.

You have part IV?
That's the ultimate "Ultima"!

You know your stuff.
I'm Adam, by the way.

I'm Mike Levy.
This is also Mike Levy.

You guys have
the same name?

Yeah, but Mike Z.
is painfully shy,

so it's not much
of an issue.

I feel your pain.
There's a senior also
named Adam Goldberg.

He's not happy
to have me around.

(CHUCKLES) Right on.

I'm actually pretty good
at Oregon Trail.

ADULT ADAM:
Even though I immediately
died of dysentery,

my mom was thrilled I found
a party to hitch my wagon to.

Meanwhile, Erica and Barry
were blazing their own trail.

ERICA:
Guess what we have.

The answers to all our
answering-machine problems...

BOTH: Crazy Calls.

I don't know what it is,
but it sounds wild.

It's a tape of professionally
recorded outgoing messages

that represent
many musical styles.

And it's advertised on TV,
so you know it's good.

BARRY: Prepare yourselves.

MAN: (ON STEREO)
� I'm glad you called,
but I'm not home

� But I'll be back
before too long

BOTH:
� Wait for the beep

� You gotta leave your name
you gotta leave your number

� Wait for the beep �

(BEEPING)
Al, don't join into
their nonsense.

Listen... We have
no answering-machine problems.

My message stays.

Please, just listen to reason.

The message you recorded
is so bad,

our friends refuse to call.

The light is blinking.
I must be doing
something right.

POP POP:
(ON ANSWERING MACHINE)
Hello. Is this Murray?

What? You got a robit
taking your messages now?

Ooh, my highfalutin' son
thinks he's better
than everyone.

I think it's Pop Pop.

Well, you're not.
You're a thief!

Don't think I forgot about
that $17 you stole from me.

Still with the $17!
I can't take this!

(TAPE FAST-FORWARDING)

My electric bill
was the same every month,

but all of a sudden,
it's $17 more.

Yeah, well, you do the math,
genius!

He's taking up
the whole tape!

(TAPE FAST-FORWARDING)

I know you were upset
about your wedding toast,

but I really thought you
preferred the company of men.

(TAPE FAST-FORWARDING)

You were an ugly baby.
There, I said it.

MURRAY: That's it!
Well, at least he's talking
to you. That's new.

Oh, we will talk
but good.

Just he and I, man to man.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Ah, you.
What do you want?

My dad paid me $20
to set this up for you

so you won't miss
his phone call.

Ah, so he'll pony up
20 bucks for you,

and still
I'm out my $17.

I don't know, man.
Do you want
the machine or not?

All right.
I'll take the robit,

but only because
I like free stuff.

ADULT ADAM:
As Erica did
my dad's dirty work,

me and my new pals were having
some good, clean fun.

And that, my friend,
is how you use Basic

to program
a real-life booby.

Whoa!

ADAM: So lifelike.

Scram! Me and this lady
are gonna study

for health class,
with our faces.

No way! We're allowed
to be here at lunch.

Mr. Glascott says.

You're a ballsy,
little nerd, aren't you?

Tell you what,
I'm gonna let it slide,

but only because there's
a broom closet for us
right down the hall.

Later, nerd losers.

Look at them
with their nerd thermoses.

GIRL: Like they're nerd
construction workers.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Excuse me.
What did you just say
about those nerd losers?

Uh, that they should
drink out of their
nerd thermoses?

Glascott's office now!

BEVERLY:
So, what kind of punishment
are we talking about here?

Suspension, expulsion,
solitary confinement?

Do we do that?
'Cause that's what I want.

Yeah. You two can
go back to class,

and try not to be so accurate
with your nerd insults
next time.

Oh, and stay out
of that broom closet.

Yeah, that's right.
Old Glascott knows what's up!

Why did you let them go?
They called my schmoo a nerd.

That's not on them.
That's more on your schmoo
for being one.

Hey, only I get to call
my schmoo a schmoo.

The point is,
Adam and his gang
of computer dorks

don't even eat
in the lunchroom.

That means they're not even
on the social ladder.

You've got to do something
about this.

If you don't help Adam,
then you have failed
as a mother.

But that is
my greatest nightmare.

You gotta help me.
Please.

I told him I'd respect
his boundaries.

Guide me.
It's what you're so good at.

I know you're playing me
for a fool,

but this fool
has low-grade depression.

So... I'll bite.

ADULT ADAM:
While my mom was plotting
to improve my social future,

Pop Pop, was getting an earful
about his past.

MURRAY: You want to know why
I slept with the lights on?

'Cause you took me to see
"Psycho" when I was nine!

You owe me $17
for a lifetime of showering
with the curtain wide open!

Oh, you want a message?
I'll give you a message.

I'll give you a big,
fat message in your
big, fat ears.

POP POP:
You think someone's gonna come
after you in the shower?

Believe me, you have nothing
anyone wants to see.

(BEEPING)
Fine.

You want to talk,
let's talk!

ADULT ADAM: And, so began
the great Goldberg
answering machine war

of 1980-something.

MURRAY:
And you were so God-awful

that none of my friends
ever wanted to come over
and play with me!

POP POP:
Friends? I had to
pay the boy next door

to be friends with you!

So, you owe me a nickel
for that, too.

ADULT ADAM: What began as
one simple call from Pop Pop

quickly spiraled into
an endless volley
of very hurtful rants.

MURRAY: There! I said it!

You're a crappy dad
and even a worse businessman!

POP POP:
You think I'm implying
you're a disappointment?

No, no. I'm saying it loud
and clear! Disappointment!

Again with
the farkakte machine.

I know. He's been tying up
the phone line,

and I can't get any
of my messages.

What? No.

I meant your dad and Pop Pop
might be doing serious damage
to their relationship.

Oh, please.
They're fine.

You are a trash heap
of a human being,

and even a worse father!

He meant that
with love, and...

Ah, crap.
This went bad fast.

ADULT ADAM:
It had been a week
since the great Goldberg

answering machine war,
and my sister was tired

of not getting
any of her messages.

ROBOTIC VOICE: Tape full.
(BEEPING)

My God! This thing between Dad
and Pop Pop has got to stop.

ROBOTIC VOICE:
Messages deleted.
(BEEPS)

ADULT ADAM: Acting on her
standard selfishness,

Erica decided to erase Pop Pop
and end the war.

Hey, I'm home!
Nobody bother me!

I need to check
my messages.

ROBOTIC VOICE:
No new messages.
(BEEPS)

Hey! Anyone call for me?

You know, like a telemarketer,
wrong number,

angry grandfather?

Nope.
Okay.

Good.
Yep.

Very good.
Guess there's no reason
to tie up the phone lines now.

Yep.
I mean,
no call from Pop Pop

means you don't have
to pay him the $17.

Yep, yep, yep.
You won.

I won.
Yep.

Big winner.
You won.

Murray wins.

And that is how you end
an answering machine war.

Well, I guess it is best
for your father's sanity.

Sure, sure,
that thing.

Also, I finally get to use
the phone again.

Hey! What do you think
you're doing, you moron?

Making a phone call.

Yeah. The machine
is expecting a call.

No one goes near this
or stands in this area. Out!

(RECEIVER CLICKS)

Okay. Why the hell
isn't he taking the win?

It's like he wants Pop Pop
to call and rant at him.

Crazy as it sounds,
I think your dad

actually liked chatting
with Pop Pop
through the machine.

And now
that it's done...

...he's sad.

That's nuts.
Dad doesn't get sad.

ROBOTIC VOICE:
No new messages.
(BEEPS)

ROBOTIC VOICE:
No new messages.
(BEEPS)

My God. He's sad.

ROBOTIC VOICE:
No new messages.
(BEEPS)

Fine.
You made your point.

We'll get them together
and end this,
once and for all.

ROBOTIC VOICE:
No new messages.

ADULT ADAM: My sister
was determined to end the war.

Meanwhile, my mom
set off a nuclear bomb
of embarrassment at school.

There's the guy.
Watch out.

It's the Fighting Quaker
of the Month.

How is this a thing?
What's happening to me?

What is happening is
you're being celebrated

for your popularity
amongst your fellow students.

And one of
the delightful spoils

is that you get to sit
at this special table.

It's for cool kids only.

First of all, I like eating
in the computer lab.

Also, my mom clearly
put you up to this.

(LAUGHS)
Popular and funny.

Whatever. I'm going back
to my computer game.

And I'm taking
this disaster with me.

Where is he going?
Why isn't he sitting
at his cool new table?

Did you screw the pooch
on this one, Andre?

No! Probably.

Look. If the kid
won't accept help

from his super-cool
guidance counselor,

then he's just
a lost cause.

ADULT ADAM:
But my mom
was never one to give up.

When it came
to her little schmoo,

she always had the drive
to succeed.

Oh, Beverly,
you're so "Krafty".

(LAUGHS)

Say cheese.

MAN: I think we found
the problem.

Looks like someone
wanted a little cheese
with their Apple.

Nailed it.
BALL: Oh, come on.

The sign clearly states
no food in here.

You kids know the rules.
You are banned
for lunch hours.

But where are we
supposed to go?

In the cafeteria
with the normals.

Yeah, I said it.

Come on.
I'll cut you a check.

No! You can't send us back
in the wild!

We've been domesticated.

Guys, guys, guys.

I think the silver lining here
is that Mike Z. talked.

You shut it!
Shut it, Goldberg!

You know, it's kind of funny
how the drive got cheese

just after you
joined our crew.

Mike, Mike, it's me.

I... I wouldn't
cheese the drive.

Well, me and Mike Levy
are kosher.
Way of life!

And Rog, Mink, and Alvie
are lactose-intolerant.

Come at me!
But every day,

you eat the same turkey
and cheese sandwich.

Get some!

That is the lunch
my mom always makes me.

Mom!

(CROWD GROANS)

Boy, Al, we are lucky
to get these seats.

Yep. Pure luck.

Oh, look who it is!

Hey, is that Pops and Father
over there?

Well, this is a very
unplanned coincidence.

Damn it.
Damn it.

Hey, now you two can talk
in person like normal humans.

Pop Pop,
let's trade seats.

That is a crap trade,
and you know it.

Mur, sit here.

I'm fine here on the end.
Thank you.

Hey, Bar, tell Murray to flag
down the soft pretzel guy.

Erica, tell Pops to tell Dad,
Pop Pop wants a pretzel.

Um, Pops, tell Dad that
Pop Pop would appreciate it
if he bought him a pretzel.

Murray,
buy your dad a pretzel.

Tell him to buy
his own damn pretzel!

No go, Erica.

Barry, Dad kindly declines
the pretzel purchasing.

Pop Pop, Dad said to get bent
and buy your own.

I wasn't asking
for a free pretzel.

Tell that ungrateful bastard
he still owes me $17.

He can take it
out of my tab.

Erica, Pop Pop said
Dad's a bastard,
and he wants a Tab.

Pops, Pop Pop wants
a diet soda.

Murray, will you
buy your dad a diet soda?

At the very least,
it'll calm him down.

Fine!

Excuse me. Let me get
a pretzel and a Tab
for the old guy on the end.

Here.
Here.

Here.
Here.

What the (BLEEP)
is this!

I don't drink ladies' soda.

Where's my pretzel?

It appears Dad
is eating it.

You give your father
a message,

and you tell him
every single word.

ADULT ADAM:
Yep. Dad and Pop Pop
were finally talking.

Only problem,
they were using their family

as their telephone
and answering machine.

That's right.

This woman cheesed
the drive, not us. Her!

Whoa!
That's a harsh accusation

against a faculty member
who's here one day a week.

It's true. She cheesed it.

It's her signature
culinary move.

Beverly, do you have
anything to say?

I vehemently deny
cheesing the drive

under cover of darkness
when no one was here.

She said "vehemently."
That's a big word.
So I have to believe her.

Fine. If she's
not gonna own up to it,

then I'd like to log
an official complaint
against this teacher, sir.

You mean your mom?

She's been harassing
one of the students.

You?
I don't see you writing!

Don't write it down, Andre.

Write it down, Andre!

Report the snuggies
and the kisses,

both butterfly
and Eskimo.

You Eskimo'd
on school grounds?

Ooh! I gotta write it.
I just have to.

School grounds or not,
I am your mother,

and I have the legal right
to snug, squish,

and kiss you like we're in
an igloo as much as I want.

According to the school
handbook, you really don't.

Oh, so it's almost as if
there are boundaries

that no one can cross.

Check and mate.
He's got you there, lady.

Adam, I just wanted you...

Bup, bup, bup!
Boundaries!

You expect me
to just sit...

Bup, bup! Boundaries!
I just want...

Just give...
Bup, bup, bup, bup!
Bup, bup, bup, bup!

I want... But I...
Bup, bup, bup! Bup!

I really think he wants you
to respect his...

I know what he wants!

You know,
I was actually happy
in the computer lab.

Those guys accepted me.

You always say
you want to help,

but you just end up
ruining everything.

ADULT ADAM:
Realizing she'd made
a mess of my social life,

my mom knew it was time
to clean things up.

Not so fast, Atkins. This is
a random locker search.

If it's random, why are you
targeting the guy

most likely to have a doobie
hidden in his locker behind
a Trapper Keeper?

Ah, nards.

Principal's office.
Now.

This is so unfair!

It is, which is why
I'll offer you a plea bargain.

You take the fall
for cheesing the drive,

and this all goes away.

I don't know
what you just said,

and maybe that's 'cause
I've been hitting
my Trapper Keeper,

but I'm in.

You also have to stop
making fun of my son.

Done. Who is he?

Adam.
Adam who?

You know, the freshman.
You call him a nerd loser.

That narrows it down
to like 40 dudes.

The one with the dimples
and the glasses.

He looks like a model.
He plays with computers.

Oh-oh!
That nerd loser.

Sure.
I'll leave him alone.

Hey, little bro.
How's it hangin'?

That's not my son.

Beat it, dork! Scram!

Ugh! I can't believe my arm
just touched a nerd.

Getting rid
of the answering machine?

Stupid piece of crap.
Caused nothing but problems.

Don't throw it away.

Pop Pop did call back,
but I erased the tape.

Why would you do that?

Because you were
hogging the phone,

talking to your dad
but not actually talking.

And then I realized
not talking is how you talk.

Look. That's why
we ambushed you at the game.

I thought maybe you guys
would like to talk for real,

but if you like
your machine better,
then I won't stop you.

You know me and my dad.
We never were big talkers.

Well...

Maybe it's time to try.

(DON HENLEY'S "THE HEART
OF THE MATTER" PLAYS)

You!
Yeah. I was gonna call,

but then I thought,
I don't know,
I'd just come over.

What for?
I brought you $17
worth of soft pretzels.

I wanted the money in cash.

But the game's on.

You could come in
and, uh, watch.

Sure.
I got nothing better to do.

Lucky for you boys, the real
culprit stepped forward.

The lab's all yours again.
Don't make crumbs.

(BOYS CHEERING)

Hey, sorry we blamed you
for cheesing the drive.

It's cool. I'm just glad
we're back where we belong.

ADULT ADAM:
From that point on,
I couldn't wait for lunchtime.

And it was all thanks
to someone who cared
a little too much.

Hey.
Heard the good news.

Stop. I know
you fixed this for me,

but wouldn't you say
framing a kid

kind of crosses
every boundary ever?

God, you're right.

I am horrible
with boundaries, boopie.

But I'll try to do better.

Well, I'll let
this one time slide.

But, to be clear,
the "no snuggling"
policy still stands.

ADULT ADAM: In that moment,
I realized that I had a mother

who would cross
any boundary for me.

Starting now.

ADULT ADAM: And that made me
the luckiest kid in the world.

There's too much salt
on the pretzels.

What are you talking about?
Salt makes the pretzel.

Salt makes you die.

ADULT ADAM:
'Cause, at the end of the day,
walls need to be broken,

and boundaries need
to be crossed...
Yeah!

...in order for love
to get through.

(SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY)

(DINGS)

BARRY: Hi.
You've reached the Goldbergs.

Leave a message.
(BEEPS)

Hey. I got a flat tire,
and I need...

Ha! It's not the answering
machine, you dumb idiot!

It's actually me... Barry.

(SIGHS)
It's me. I need Dad...

Gotcha again! It is
the answering machine.

Leave a message.
(BEEPS)

Damn it! I've got a flat tire,
and I need Dad...

No, it's actually me,
Barry, for real.

So, what's the deal?

Barry, I will kill you!
Put Dad on the...

But, seriously,
leave a message at the beep.

(BEEPS)

Dad, I've got a flat...

Oh, my God.
You're a dumb sack of crap.