All language subtitles for Bless the Harts s02e07_English

‐(chewing)
‐(indistinct chatter)

Lort, thank you for blessing us

with this portable bounty

as we eat Thanksgiving dinner

the way it was meant
to be eaten,

in line for Black Friday deals
at Mega Lo Mart.

Amen!

Did everyone get enough dinner
in their bags?

Protein's in the tote.

Sides in the rolling suitcase.

Gravy and stuffing
in the JanSport.

Wait, where is
the cranberry sauce?

I got it.

Let me... (sucks)
get it started for you.

(sucking)
Ah.

You know what?
I'm good.

Whew. I'm sweating bullets.

I should've gone with my gut

and worn a mesh football jersey
and pasties.

Well, here's something
to cool you down.

(singsongy):
I made gravy pops.

I got porkcicles,
turkey skin pops,

and, Vi, I do have
a green bean casserole pop,

but, keep in mind,
it's kinda gross.

(sighs)
Lord,

remember the last time

we had gravy pops
on Black Friday?

That was back
before I even knew y'all.

I had a pretty sweet part‐time
job driving a dairy truck,

and I narrowly escaped
a disaster of epic proportions.

BETTY:
Snore.

Get me my weighted body pillow,

'cause you are putting me
to sleep.

An actually epic story
is how I executed

the most flawless slip‐and‐fall

the United States of Hamerica
has ever seen.

Wait, are we
really doing this again?

Doing what?

Telling stories on Black Friday

about other Black Fridays.

It all started when...

No. Not listening.

I'm in the middle of
a groundbreaking murder podcast

called
The Husband Didn't Do It.

Oh, I see
what's happening here.

You're afraid if we reminisce,

you're gonna cry
like you did last year.

(quietly): You promised me that
you'd never bring that up again.

Everyone, we're telling
Black Friday stories over here,

so Violet might get
a little emotional!

Ugh, why is there
never a husband around

when you want to be killed?

♪♪ ♪♪

WAYNE:
Okay,

so where were we?

It was Black Friday Eve‐‐

which some people call
Thanksgiving‐‐

on a night just like tonight.

I was 18 years old,

and I was reeling
from my first‐ever heartbreak,

Anita Upchurch.

She told me I was too sensitive,

because, apparently,
"real men" don't cry

at dog food commercials.

Get it together, Wayne.

Stupid tear ducts.

She wanted a hero type.

But little did she know,

I was about to become one.

Uh‐oh. I feel like this is
gonna be a Wayne story

that's half memory and
half Michael Bay fever dream.

They're my memories!

I can spice them up
however I want.

Now, here's
exactly what happened.

(beeping)

The refrigeration
on my milk truck went out,

leaving me only 20 minutes
to deliver my creams,

butters and nogs
before they went bad.

(dramatic music playing)

(horn blares)

So there I was, going about 250
miles per hour down the highway.

Quit your yapping, Wayne.

Violet doesn't want to hear
your milk memories.

She wants to hear my story.

About my slip‐and‐fall.

Which needs no embellishment.

Oh, to be clear, I don't want
to hear anyone's story.

It was a hot and balmy night.

My décolletage was glistening
from the moist air.

There she is, the Paula Abdula
of Greenpoint.

And the newest member
of the Carolina Panther

cheerleading squad.

How'd the audition go?

You guys, I'm sure I didn't
get it.

Some of those girls have
danced on cruise ships.

Hush, Jenny, you're getting
the hell out of Greenpoint.

You'll spend a year or two
as a Panthers girl,

then go the J. Lo route:
seduce a music producer,

make a mint for all of us,
then star in an epic flop

with Ben Affleck
and come out even stronger.

And once you make the team,
I'm coming with,

'cause you're gonna need
an entourage.

You know, like that HBO show,
Arliss.

You guys, I'm not moving
to Charlotte.

Now, living in Charlotte
is not gonna be cheap.

Fortunately, I have got a plan.

Oh, Lord, please don't say
you're gonna do a slip‐and‐fall

and pretend to get hurt
for money.

♪♪ I'm gonna do
a slip‐and‐fall. ♪♪

Okay, everyone.

Now, before the doors open,
I have prepared

a whimsical acrostic
for the occasion: shopping.

The "S" stands for safety,
wherever you may browse.

The "H" stands for...

Oh, my God!

Move it or lose it.
(grunts)

Eat forehead, nerd.

‐All your garbage is mine now.
‐Oh, no.

‐What?
‐My plan just hit
its first major snag.

See that spicy
fleur‐de‐lis over there?

That man is Henri Tomber.

Hails from New Orleans.
He's a slip‐and‐fall detective.

They have those?

(sighs) He works for the
insurance company,

protecting stores
from phony claims.

I clashed with him
three years ago

at a Kroger in Randleman.

He sent me away for 20 days
of hard community service.

Him being here just made
my job a lot tougher.

But you know I got a perma‐boner
for a good challenge.

(grunts)

I for real fell!

Sir, are you okay? Ugh.

I'll get the paperwork
for you to start suing us.

HENRI:
Now, wait a minute.

Let me take a look here.

I understand you had
some kind of whoopsie‐doodle.

Ooh! Aah.

Why don't you tell Henri
all about it.

Oh, it hurts real bad,
my babies.

I fell on this barbecue sauce
that was left here negligently.

I may never walk again.

Hmm, barbecue sauce, you say?

I happen to know a little bit
about barbecue sauces.

You‐you do?

And this here sauce I'm tasting
is Screamin' Steve's

barbecue sauce,
which, if I'm not mistaken,

isn't sold within
15 miles of this here store.

Rookie mistake.
Hate to see it.

You sure did slip, boy.
Slipped up.

Take him away.

You have no idea
how good Henri is.

It's just like I always say:

"If you're gonna fake a tumbo,

beware the Gumbo Columbo."

Mother, just now is the first
time you've ever said that.

(phone rings)

Oh, my God,
a Charlotte area code.

I feel like I'm gonna throw up.

(breathing heavily)

Just pick it up, dumbass.

Hello?

Hi, Jennifer,
this is Austin McNutt

from the Carolina Panthers.

I'm calling to say

that unfortunately there were
a lot of girls who tried out...

‐so I have bad news.
‐I knew it.

Which is that you're gonna
have to move away...

‐(all gasp)
‐...because you got the job!

Wait, I got it?

Let me finish.
You got the job

of wiping away tears...

‐Oh.
‐What?
‐ ...of joy...

I think I'm back in?

...off the faces of the girls

who actually did make the team.

‐Okay, what now?
‐Which includes you!

I straight‐up hate this dude.

So congratulations,
or should I say condolences,

for having to come in and work
with my silly ass.

Did she get it or not?!

She got in. She totally got in.
I'm sorry.

I‐I just did so many poppers
last night.

(cheering, laughing)

All right!

I'm in!
High kick, air punch, high kick.

‐Oh, sorry.
‐Whoo! Good one, Jenny.

Take his stuff.

Hold on.
Gram, why did you tell me

this story was about
your slip‐and‐fall?

It's clearly the story
of Mom getting her dream job.

And, Mom, why have I never
heard about this?

Oh, it wasn't really a big deal.

Not a big deal?
Mom, that job was a huge deal.

An‐And speaking of
huge deal jobs,

my dairy truck situation
certainly

‐was not getting any easier.
‐Wait, no, don't.

WAYNE:
I was gonna make it
by the skin of my teeth,

as long as there were
no surprises.

But things rarely go
according to plan

in the fast‐paced world
of hauling perishables.

(quacks)

‐(cries out)
‐(tires screeching)

(exhales)

(all quacking)

A lot to unpack here.

You're definitely winning me
over with the periscope,

but I do need to
get back to Mom's thing.

Oh, my God, I got the job.
I'm an NFL cheerleader!

Oh, my God,
my mouth's getting dry.

I can't feel my hands. Are my
teeth loose? I'm so nauseous.

That's the sweet adrenaline rush
of knowing

you're better than
everyone else.

‐Mother, no.
‐Listen up, losers.

My daughter, Jenny Hart,

has just been accepted to

the Carolina Panthers
cheerleader squad.

So we're better than you now.

So pucker your smoochers

and start kissing our
boo‐heinies immediately.

Okay, Mom, that's enough.

There are two tiers
of people now: tier one, us,

tier two, y'all.

Now, let's shop!

With the whole town in a tizzy
over Jenny's news,

I could focus on my own plan.

Mother, did you just purposely
grab a cart

with a broken wheel?

The less you know
about my plan, the better.

Now, you may be wondering
what, exactly, my plan was.

No, we're not focusing
on your plan.

Mom, what happened next?

I'll tell you
what happened next.

Now that your mom
was a celebrity,

the vultures started circling.

And they all wanted something:

Jenny's smoking‐hot carcass.

Oh, I'm so proud of you, Jenny.
Can I get an autograph?

So you can turn around
and sell it on eBay?

Nice try, Norma.

When I grow up,
I want to be just like...

She's not loaning you money.
Scram!

Oof. I don't feel so good.

On behalf of Mega Lo Mart,

here's a bucket of
celebratory popcorn.

Plain, caramel,
and habanero ranch.

(retching)

You show him, Jenny.

You hear that, y'all
phony‐baloney hangers‐on‐ers?

You make us friggin' sick.

Actually, I haven't been
feeling good all day.

Jenny, can I say something?

No, no, no, no, no.
There is no way I'm pregnant.

No way, nuh‐uh.
There are things I am and things

I'm not‐‐ a cheerleader, yes;
pregnant, no.

(gasps)

(whimpering):
I'm pregnant.

Wait, so you had just
gotten your dream job,

and then you found out
you were pregnant with me?

You must have been freaking out.

What? (scoffs)

Freaking out with happiness
maybe.

Oh, this is the worst thing
that's ever happened to me!

My life is over.
My mom's gonna kill me.

I am dead. Dead!

What the freak am I gonna do
with a crapping baby?

Anyway, we love you.
We're real glad you're here.

Now let's talk about something
I wasn't glad was there:

those ducks.

Nailed the segue, dude.

They cost me
eight precious minutes.

And unless I could find
another way

to keep my creams cold,

that truck was headed
straight to Curdle Town

on the Sour Milk Expressway,

population: spoiled.

(tires screech)

‐♪♪ ♪♪
‐(all gasp)

I'm gonna need the contents
of all your Slusherito machines.

Oh, snap. You trying
to keep your creams cold?

You know it.

(chuckles):
You're crazy, man.

Wayne, I'm loving your story.
Zero notes.

But can we hear
what happened to Mom first?

‐And, Gram,
I don't have time for...
‐The pieces

were falling into place,
but Henri,

the Cajun Complication,
was hot on my tail.

Beatrice Jean Bryant.

Henri Bourbon Street Tomber.

Why am I not surprised
to see you here?

You wouldn't be
planning on taking

a little accidental tumbo,
would you?

Who, me? Oh, I'm just shopping.

Is that a crime now, Detective?

Now, let's just take a look
at your cart,

shall we, s'il vous plaît?

Rifle your calloused hands
through my goods all you want.

Bananas.
A thousand‐pack of marbles.

Motor oil.

That's a mighty slippery
assortment of items

you're shopping for.

But why don't I
do you a kindness

and hold these items
for you up front.

‐If you must.
‐Oh, I must certainly must.

BETTY: But what
he didn't know was...

Gram, I don't care.

Mom, what happened next?

(sighs)
What am I gonna do?

I just broke up
with that butthole Don,

and I was all ready
to start my life in Charlotte

as a Panthers girl,
not be a single mom.

Okay, just spitballing
right off the top of my head.

I heard
that you can leave a baby

at any fire station,
and they have to raise it.

Plus, bonus, that baby's
got a built‐in job for life.

I am not leaving a baby
at a fire station.

And do you think
that's how we get firemen?

You think a person
with two parents

would run
into a burning building?

Okay, well, we can't
tell anyone. I need to think.

Doo, doo‐doo‐doo.

Knock, knock.

Hey, Jenny. I'm so proud of you.

Look at us, y'all.

Two successful,
career‐oriented women.

Me, bravely inheriting
my family's seafood restaurant,

and you, a full‐fledged
football dancer.

Yep. Look at us.

Anyway, congratulations.

You and I beat the odds because,
you know, most of the girls

out here just get blessed
with child

right out of high school
and then they fall directly

into a life of stripping
and boom‐boom.

But not you and me, Jenny.

Doo, doo‐doo‐doo.
See you at the top.

And, Brenda,
I will pray for you.

So, how did Gram react
when you told her?

Well, I was waiting
for the perfect time.

You know, you don't want
to interrupt her

when she's mid‐grift.

BETTY:
By all appearances,

Henri had gotten the best of me.

But appearances
can be deceiving.

Stupid cart's fighting me

like a big‐bosomed lady
demanding her Mardi Gras beads.

Wobbly wheel, check.

Precariously stacked
soup pyramid, check.

Teetering panini press over
a "what you doing here" yogurt.

It's showtime.

(distorted shout)

‐(dinging)
‐(all gasp)

Ma'am, are you okay?

Oh, I must have slipped
on that yogurt.

I saw the whole thing.
It's that guy's fault.

Now, now, listen here.
She set me up.

She tricked me
into pushing that wobbly cart.

A‐And now she must've placed
that panini press precariously.

I say, she's faux‐hurt
from that yogurt.

Oh, my back.

I'm in an expensive amount
of pain.

(sighs):
God, I'm such a dumbass.

I had a chance
at something huge,

and I blew it in the most
cliché way imaginable.

I skipped all the fun J. Lo stuff
and went straight to Gigli.

You didn't blow anything.

You'll pop that sucker out,

get a Curves membership,
and get back

to Tight Butt Fly Girl City.

(sighs) Yeah, if my mom
doesn't kill me first.

(echoing): Jenny, she'll accept
it. She'll know what to do.

‐(heart beating)
‐Everything will be okay.

‐(baby crying)
‐Come on, work with Mama here.

Come on. Come on.

WOMAN:
No, Justin.

I told you to stop it. Ugh.

Why can't we just
talk about it, honey?

'Cause I hate you, Mom!

(panting):
I need some fresh air.

(alarm sounding)

We got a shoplifter!

Sure do! I think
that's Jenny Hart.

Oh, the girl who just got

the professional
cheerleading job?

And now she's caught
stealing something?

What'd she steal?

A baker's dozen pregnancy tests.

Negative or positive?

Positive, brother.

Attention, we've got

a pregnant shoplifter

‐by the name of Jenny Hart.
‐What?

Ho, ho. You wanted us
to think you was hurt,

but you popped up
like a baby in a king cake.

Only thing fatter
than Tuesday is your lies.

(gasps)
No!

So, not only did you find out
you were pregnant with me

at a Mega Lo Mart bathroom,
but the cherry

on this ambrosia salad is that
you immediately got arrested?

Well, don't forget,
I also had just pulled off

the most amazing, epic slip‐and‐
fall in Mega Lo Mart history.

But you were immediately busted.

Ow! Can I just finish my story?

I mean,
does it even matter what I...

WAYNE:
The mixture
of banana fluffernutter

and Sex on the Beach Slusheritos

was only going to buy me
so much time,

but I knew,
where there's a will,

there's a Wayne.

Don't cry, little buddy.

I'm getting you home safe.

(engine starts)

(shouts)

No! Not now.

Not after all of this.

It was gonna take a miracle
to pull this one off.

And then, sure enough,
one pulled up right next to me.

Looks like your milk truck
is past its expiration date.

It sure is. Oh, my God.

You're professional wrestler
turned movie star Bear Vulcano.

You drive a flower truck?

Course I do. I used to haul
weapons‐grade nitroglycerin,

but then I realized I don't have
to prove anything to anybody.

I like flowers and wrestling
and acting, in that order.

That is so cool,
Real Bear Vulcano.

Wait a minute. You got room
in there for a load of dairy?

Are peonies the perfect flower
for dads and grads?

(chuckles) Yeah.
We got the creams in on time.

That's it? I mean,
I love the Bear Vulcano cameo,

I just through there would be
an explosion or something.

(chuckles):
Oh, there was.

‐Who's this?
‐My ex.

She thinks I'm not a real man
because I'm too emotional.

Guess I'm not the big,
masculine hero she needs.

Your ex sounds like a real turd.

There's nothing more manly
than getting

in a no‐holds‐barred cage match
with your emotions.

I want to thank you,
Real Bear Vulcano.

No, thank you.

Any day I get to hand someone
a flower

and tell them
it's gonna be okay,

that's a win for me.

My flowers! The nitro!

Great, bravo. I love
how you brought it home.

Now, Mom, where were we?

Well, there's not much else
to tell.

I still didn't have the courage
to face Mother,

so I went and hid
in the back of the store.

(sighs)
Ugh, sweating for two.

‐Oh, sorry.
‐WAYNE: No worries.

Just restocking the nogs.

Hang on. You were
in the back of the store,

‐like, the dairy section?
‐Yeah, why?

(gasps)
No freaking way.

‐You okay, ma'am?
‐No, nothing's okay.

Everyone had such
high expectations for me,

and then I let them all down.

WAYNE:
Aw, who cares
what everyone thinks?

Being a hero
isn't about impressing people.

It's about being there
when someone needs you.

Yeah, now there's really
someone who needs me.

Hey.

I know what'll cheer you up.

JENNY:
Aw, a violet.

(chuckles)
Pretty.

Oh, my God, that was you.

You were the man
that gave me that flower.

We met before
we ever actually met?

How crazy is that?

VIOLET:
So dumb.

So, it turns out
Wayne actually named me?

Huh. Yeah, I guess
he sort of did.

That is so stupid.

How much dumber
could this dumb story get?

Well, it does get
a teeny bit dumber.

See, when I walked back
to the front of the store...

What's all this?

A showering of gifts
for the baby, my baby.

I got you these.

Jenny, I'm so sorry
I said all that stuff earlier.

If I had known,
I would have said it

behind your back, at church,

under the guise of asking people
to pray for you.

But I think you're gonna be
a great mom.

Aw, thanks, Louise.

I got you some baby bibs.

This one says "Goo Goo"
in the Google font.

What a humorous use of typeface.

These are Mega Lo Mart Dumpers.

They can't legally
be called diapers

'cause they contain
trace amounts of fiberglass,

which technically
makes them insulation.

That's very thoughtful.

Dance shoes?

I think these might be
a little big for the baby.

They are not for the baby,
dummy.

They are for you,
'cause being a mom

does not mean you got
to give up on your dreams.

Yeah, it's just a curveball.

Some milk guy told
me the same thing.

(all gasp)

Mother, I already know
what you're gonna say.

Okay? You're disappointed.

(shushes) You're right.
I am disappointed.

I'm disappointed
that you were afraid to tell me,

because I will always be
there for you,

no matter what.

Now, some of you are skimping
on your shower gifts.

This is my grandbaby
we're talking about.

Let's turn this shower
into a waterfall, y'all.

VIOLET:
Wow, they threw you an impromptu

Black Friday baby shower?

Man, the people in this town

really look out
for each other, don't they?

They sure do.

‐(air horn blowing)
‐Let's do it!

(excited shouting)

Someone crowd‐surf me
over to the headphones.

My tube top is slipping.

‐Someone's biting me.
‐I'm biting someone!

I found a tube top, babies!

MANAGER WEBB:
Whoa, whoa, man. Hey!

(glass shatters)

‐(meows)
‐(horn honks musically)