All language subtitles for In.the.Know.S01E02.Whose.House.720p.PCOK.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-FLUX_Eng

My fellow public servants,

I stand here before you
with great responsibility.

Some will say that
what I'm asking you to do

is impossible, but to them, I say--

And pardon my language--
Phooey.

This is our day, our hour, our moment

to grab the bull by its horns.

And later, of course, gently set him free.

We need to raise $60,000 in six hours.

I need each and every
one of you to step up.

Damn the man.
Save "In the Know."

It's pledge drive day!

Fuck yeah! Whose house?

Our house!

I said, whose house?

It's fine.

Whoo!

I have a feeling this is going to be

our most successful pledge drive yet.

Barb, you might be content as a hamster

in the wheel of late capitalism.

But I refuse to treat our listeners

like udders to be squeezed.

Orange.

That's fine, because
after your introduction,

Fabian will take over on air.

Have you lost your
center-left bourgeois mind?

Fabian's not on-air talent.

We're already most of the way
to our goal, thanks to one VIP.

He's dropping off his check
in person today.

And he specifically asked for Lauren

to give him a studio tour.

Oh, well, anything
for the almighty dollar.

Shall I give him a wanky massage as well?

Oil myself all up? Hmm?

How are you feeling, Fabian?

Ready to roll?

Remember, all you have to do
is talk up our wonderful gift

for sustaining members.

It's a small Bluetooth speaker
that clips onto your belt loop

with a carabiner.

Here, I wrote it down in case you--

Don't condescend to me.
I'm not your underling.

Of course not. We're a team.

Don't pretend there's no hierarchy

in this fucking fiefdom!

Fabian, please.

Part of why we need donations so urgently

is that $20,000 lactation station

you demanded we purchase even though

no one here breastfeeds.

Oh!

And honestly,
I worry that thing

has been bad for Sandy's mind.

Today marks yet another pledge drive.

And while I find this sort
of shilling distasteful,

our producer, Barb, crassly insists.

We'll be sharing some
of our favorite clips with you,

our beloved know-it-alls.

Let's kick things off
with a fascinating conversation

I had with the documentarian Ken Burns.

♪ Legendary Lauren ♪

Ken, as a teenager,
I'd go to the video rental,

and I would hide your films
in the DVD jackets

of pornography films
so that the local perverts

would get a history lesson.

There's a lot of people
who hide pornography

in our DVD jacket.

So there's a kind of reciprocity that

I think that you've kind
of appropriately brought up.

And now maybe those sex-watchers will

spend less time yanking their trash

and more time learning
about Sonny Rollins.

Well, Sonny Rollins was
called the Saxophone Colossus.

So there might be some
kind of synergy there.

Oh, Ken.

Oh, you dirty dog.

Remember, if you get nervous,
plant both feet on the ground

and breathe through your nose.

Barb.

I was part of the people's microphone

during Occupy Penn Station.

I amplified messages from the Acela Lounge

all the way to the
Duane Reade with the bathroom.

I think I can handle a pledge drive.

You're our gal.

Don't call me gal.

You're our person.

Jesus, fuck, Barb.

I am not your property.

Wow.

The kids are being hard on you today.

They're hard on me every day.

But I don't mind.

It just means they feel safe.

It's like I'm the guest
of honor at a roast that

goes on for my entire career.

You know, for even amateur historians,

the farther away you get
from an event, strangely,

sometimes paradoxically,
the closer you can get

to understanding it more fully.

That makes a great deal of sense.

My ex-partner Grania told me that she was

best able to love me
from a great distance,

both geographically and emotionally.

That's right.

It's got to be a little platonic,

and it's got to have some
distance between it, yeah.

Because if history touches you,

it makes her skin crawl.

Exactly.

And where exactly did you find

this dark-money malefactor anyway, Barb?

ExxonMobil?

The Russian oligarchy? Mm?

Barnes and Noble that
still carries J.K. Rowling?

He's the in-house counsel at Pata Lulu.

Ah, you must be Gene.

Hello.

It's really you.

Lauren Caspian?

Yes?

Gene Jacoby. Huge fan.

Is that right?

Hi, Gene.

I'm Barb, executive producer of the show.

Would you like
to give me the check now or--

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Slow down, Barb.

Did you not learn the art of introductions

in your Podunk Ohio town?

I'm from Ames, Iowa.

More like "aimless" Iowa.

Aimless Iowa?

Oh, God, that's some
Sarah Vowell-level shit.

Oh, come, Gene. This way.

I'm going to show you my personal minibar

of drinkable cold soups.

Oh.

- First time on air?

Oh, no, no, no.

I host a daily podcast,
"Black Lives Matter More."

Which, it isn't live.

But I mean--

It's not like I have to follow
Edward R. Murrow here.

I once self-financed a documentary

about my ex-wife's new husband, Glenn.

And I took pains to be evenhanded.

But in retrospect, certain sections are

just me making fun
of his botched LASIK surgery.

Okay.

That clip is ending,
and we're back in three, two--

Fabian, you're on.

Hello, and welcome to the "In the Know."

The more you know.

Oh, no.

I am Absolutely Fabian, filling in

for your usual
Laurencini Alfredo.

I'm your dad.

Today, we've got so much
to make you listen.

But enough of these things.

Because when you, today, here, right now,

you take home one gift, my babies, okay?

I'm your dad, and that gift is--

It's a--a small Bluetube--

Bluetube?

- Bluetooth.

A Bluetube speaker.

And it doesn't just sing,
ladies and gentlemen.

It can do a carabiner.

Yes, you heard that right.

Now let's get back to the stuff
you love with more Lawrence.

Goodbye, and stay Black.

That felt a little weird.

The fuck?

- ♪ Lauren ♪

Finn Wolfhard, your career began as a boy

of just nine years old
responding to Craigslist ads

for freelance acting gigs.

Are you grateful to still be alive?

I am, yeah.

I'm grateful that I didn't
answer any Craigslist ads

- that had me killed, for sure.
- Mm.

I've still never forgiven my ex-partner

for listing my nude body as "for sale"

under "furniture," subsection old brooms,

which makes no sense, does it?

Because Finn, is a broom
a piece of furniture?

No, I would say it's a cleaning supply.

That's exactly right.

Finn, I just want to have you on record

as saying that Lauren Caspian
is nobody's broom.

Uh, Lauren Caspian is no one's broom.

Oh, I love how playful you are on the air.

Interviews, to me,

- are like making love--
- Uh-huh.

But without all of the awful smells.

Huh. You were about to
show me your loose leaf teas.

Ah, yes.

I stick to the high-end chamomiles.

I once had a blood orange rooibos,

- and I completely lost my mind.
- Mm.

I had to take Narcan to level out.

Barb, what are you doing loitering here?

Yeah, I thought
the break room was VIPs only.

Wouldn't that be nice?

Chase, what's that?

When I found out it was pledge day,

I ran out and got a keg.

Chase, we're asking our
listeners to pledge donations.

Mr. Jacoby here is
our most generous donor.

Hey, I was a frat bro myself.

Sig Ep.

Sig Ep? Are you serious?

Wait--

Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof!

Oh, wow.

- Yeah!
- Whoo!

Ah, yes. That's good.

And that's enough.
Shall we continue?

But of course.

I must see where
the Caspian genius is hatched.

I've been shopping the film rights

of my life story for years.

I think you could make
a great young Lauren,

so I'd like to offer you the
chance to audition right now.

Let me set the scene.

You're 14-year-old me,
and you're asking Belinda,

the school nurse, to prom.

Do I have to do this?

Mm-hmm.

So Lauren, I understand
you've come to the infirmary

because you've been having
panic attacks and passing gas.

Yeah, I can't stop.

Oh, God, it won't stop.

Jesus, it won't stop!

Okay, can I--can I pause you for a second

and give you a little direction?

Mm-hmm.

I think the distress is right.

But young Lauren had a lot more charisma.

Okay, let's jump to the sex scene.

What?

Maybe we can come up with
a little mnemonic device

to help you reset, like BTS.

Breathe, Think, Speak.

I'm good.

BTS can also stand for Bluetooth Speaker.

So that might help you in two ways.

Yeah, I think it was just the last time

you said "three, two,"

and I expected you to say "one,"

and it threw me off.

But I'm--

I'm ready now.

Small Bluetooth speaker,
belt loop carabiner.

Perfect.

Real words in the right order.

And here we go.

Three, two--

Hello.

Welcome, again.

Ahh!

I'm sorry, that was my
throat and body screaming.

The time is now 30:40 in the FM,

so don't be shy.

The water's fine.

Let's hop on in and make pledge pie.

During our last break--
This is Babian, by the--

Babian?

That's not my name.

I'm a baby.

No, you're a grown person.

The mafia did kill JFK.

BTS.

BTS.

Be Tooth Strangler.

It is so small, yet the sound is large.

With a handy loop to crimp your wiener.

Belt! Belt!

Use this "squaribiner" to clam
your favorite wiener today.

What is happening?

It's okay. I've seen worse.

When?

YouTube compilations of monkey attacks.

Oh, God.

Now, when asked in an interview

if you could star in any movie
you wanted, what would it be,

your answer was, "'Jaws.'

"I'd like to be an ocean creature

with an appetite for ass."

Can you please elaborate?

What did you mean by that?

I don't know.

I think you can tease apart the subtext.

Any kind of public radio listener

could understand what
I was saying from that.

An appetite for ass.

That's lovely.

Whoo!

The call of the common loon
means we have a new pledge.

And the donor is entitled
to an "In the Know" T-shirt.

Gene, would you like to help us grab one

- to pack up and send out?
- Yeah.

And then maybe Gene would
like to take out the garbage

and put toner in the copy machine.

I just thought he might enjoy--

Come, Gene.
Let's get you a shirt.

We keep them in the lactation station.

What do you want?

We were just grabbing a T-shirt.

- Why?
- It's for a donor.

Who?

Gene, this is Sandy,
the studio's hobgoblin.

Ten bucks for the shirt.

Sandy, the T-shirt is a gift.

I-it's fine.

Got to respect an entrepreneurial spirit.

Here's $20, and you know what?

Keep the change.

Well, if we could fire him, we would.

But every time we do, he gets
picked up for prostitution.

Huh.

Evidently, he's a legal
alternative for necrophiliacs.

His body is 64 degrees.

Hmm?

♪ Legendary Lauren ♪

Norah Jones, as a girl,
you were given multiple solos

in your church choir.

Because even in the House of God,

you were the real star.

I didn't get all the solos.

I remember auditioning once for the part

of Mary in a church program.

And instead, I got the part of Joseph.

- Mm.
- I was upset,

'cause I really wanted the Mary solo.

Also, I was about two feet shorter

than the girl who got Mary.

And did you ever think
about taking matters

into your own hands
and pulling a Tonya Harding

with that unholy giantess?

I do think that her mom
was the choir director, so...

- Ugh!
- I'm not saying that's why.

The original nepo baby
was Mary on Christmas.

Yes.

Yo, Carl.

You ready to pledge?

What? Also, no.

Okay, I know today isn't
literally about frats.

But it's still the perfect opportunity

to traumatize our
sweet little livers as a fam.

I'm good.

How you doing, Fabian?

I can help you.

Suck on this tube till you hit foam.

Honestly, Fabian, that
might be a good idea.

This is not an endorsement of Greek life

or its rapey wolf culture.

Chug, chug, chug, chug!

Ah.

This office is so impressive.

Oh, you're the first person
who's reacted that way.

Look at this.

That's the blue ribbon
I got for fastest recovery

from pediatric bone spurs.

What a fun piece of memorabilia.

My God.

It's my childhood recorder.

Oh, my gosh.

My first interview was with my father.

I was five years old.

It's a simple question.

Why did Mommy leave?

God damn it, Lauren!

Put on your jacket.
We're going to school!

You're pivoting.

A child prodigy!

He never did answer the question.

Lauren,

I didn't come here today
for a studio tour.

I came here for you.

Are we about to kiss?

We could.

But I think I've got something better.

I'm starting a podcast network,

and I want you to host our flagship show.

Oh, wow.

Podcasts.

We'll be rolling in Casper money.

Gene, I'm experiencing a full body blush.

But I could never leave public radio.

I'm going to write a number down.

No, there's no point.

Gene, public radio is not a career,

it's a calling,

to disturb the comfortable,

to comfort the disturbed.

It's about giving voice to--

Oh, heavens to fucking Betsy.

Yeah.

Knock knock.

Does she always knock
and say, "Knock knock?"

She does. You do.

Gene, can I get you anything?

Coffee?

Maybe a pen if you need to sign anything.

Could you get us two 38-ounce Pom Boys?

Cold pressed pomegranate juice for men.

38 ounce?

- If that's too--
- No, no, no!

I'll be right back.

Hurry, Barbo.

We're thirsty.

And that, my friend, is how
you create a no crone zone.

I'm not even sure
they make a 38-ounce Pom.

In fact, I know they don't.

Asked for $10, but I got $20.

Asked for a bit, but I got plenty.

Hey, Sandy.

Who told you my name?

Look, I'm starting an office frat.

Want to be our first member?

Waive the dues, and it's a deal.

Hell yeah!

Let's go, girls.

Time to have a little fun.

Hard core.

It couldn't have been easy
living in the shadow

of your famous father,

Darth Vader himself,
James Earl Jones.

That's not my dad.

Are you sure?

No, my dad is Indiana Jones.

Ah, Harrison Ford.

And was it confusing to have a father

who would steal artifacts,
even in fictional form,

from developing nations?

I'm messing with you.

My dad was an Indian musician
named Ravi Shankar.

I mean, so they call him Indiana Jones

because he's Indian?

Oh, hateful and confusing.

No, I did--
I didn't say that.

You think you can handle a few calls?

I'm gonna crush this.

I talk every day.

To the mailman, Starbucks.

That's right.

You're just gonna talk,
just like to Starbucks.

No problem-o, Barl.

And we're on in three, two--

Let's go, motherfuckers.

Wow, and it's back.

Drivers, pledge your engines.

How did she get sober that fast?

- We have a caller.

Jaynar.

Am I pronouncing that correctly?

It's actually Shayna.

- Hi.
- I'm so sorry, Jaynar.

No, it's okay. It's Shayna.

I'm scared for you personally,
and I'm worried

you're putting the station in jeopardy.

Thanks so much, Jaynar.

Send that fatty a speaker
with one long Blacktooth.

It's great for women, pets, teens!

Give it to a young boy,
and they will scream.

Everyone must die, but, Bluetooth,

me love you long time.

Carabiner.

Next up, Carl!

What are you doing?

I was a problemo, Carl.

No. Dead air is a problemo.

Yeah, so, go get on the mic.

- I already introduced you.
- Oh.

Hello.

- Libations, please.

Whoo!

I'm going to live forever.

You go, girl.

It's strange because
we're around the same age,

but I must confess,

I have an odd desire
for you to be my mother.

Has anyone ever told you that before?

Never.

That is strange.

Mm. Follow-up.

If you were my mother,
how would you sleep train me?

Assume I'm already swaddled.

Oh. I would teach you
the 4-7-8 breathing technique.

Teach me right now, please.

As though you were my mother.

Okay, sweetie.

Now, now, breathe in for four counts.

Ready?

Two, three--

I ran out of lung capacity.

I don't think you're doing it right.

Isn't that nice?

It's smooth as hell.

And, look, we're just getting started.

Picture it.

You, me, and Malcolm Gladwell

loading up on veggie samosas
before we go out and slay.

I want to tell you something.

Podcast chicks are out of control, Laur.

It's like a women's march
straight to your fucking futon.

Gladwell has a lot of intercourse?

Are you kidding?

His dick's so dirty, when
he swam in the East River,

the river got sick.

But Gene, I'm actually
more of a sapiosexual,

attracted to ideas.

Well, here's an idea
to make your dangle tingle.

Public recognition.

Mm.

I haven't heard a pledge loon
in a long time.

- Why is that?
- I don't know.

"In the Know" is third-tier Public Radio.

- Oh.
- It's not your fault, though.

My uncle PJ, he used to say this,

and he used to say it all the time.

Without proper support,
even the most beautiful boob

just looks like a silly tit.

You know, I always wanted a guy I could

just talk brassieres with.

Lauren, you're the most beautiful boob

I have ever heard.

But your squad treats you
like an old broom.

Lauren Caspian is no one's broom.

I guess I'll say, knock knock.

Where'd you get them, Taiwan?

I did actually have to
take the PATH out to Jersey.

Boobs are like a keg,
but the beer is milk.

Hey.

Hey.

Oh, shit!

Oh!

- Hey!
- Dude.

Shit. Shit.

It's dragging me into a black hole!

Sandy! Sandy!

Ergo, it is not furniture,
but a cleaning supply.

What?

You need me to spell it out, Barb?

Today's the last--

Sandy's inside a machine
and might be dead.

I'm merging with the past.

Oh, my God.

What is--oh.

Sandy, stay calm.

It thinks my whole body's a tit!

Oh.

You're okay now.

It's over.

All right, beautiful moment.

Let's go, Laur.

Where are you going?

I'm going to be a host
at Amuse Bouche Media.

I'm leaving.

He's leaving. Lauren's out.

- What?
- Oh, come on.

You didn't see it coming?

Lauren fucking Caspian isn't gonna

waste away with you losers.

I'm not gonna waste away--

We don't have to call them losers.

Are you being serious right now?

Look at this group of people.

Look at this dreadful group of humans.

I mean, this guy looks
like a C-list mummy man.

You know, one of those guys
they threw in the pyramids

so the pharaoh would have company.

Easy, Gene.

This one over here is like if Lena Dunham

had a kid with Lena Dunham

and was raised by an au pair Lena Dunham.

No. Yeah.

I mean, it's uncanny, but it's mean.

Oh, come on!

Look at this guy.

Nerd.

Straight up.

Just cool it.

Give me a break.

This one looks like a
sad child who dressed up

in her father's ugly sweater.

No.

It actually belonged
to my deceased husband.

Was he shot by the fashion police?

That's my question.

Gene, enough!

I'm just having some fun.

No, this isn't fun!

I don't know how things work

in the world of luxury athleisure.

But here at NPR, having money doesn't mean

you get to be cruel.

But Lauren, these people suck.

Maybe they do.

But they're also my friends.

And I'm not gonna just stand here

and let you ridicule their dead
husband's horrible clothes.

Aw.

Come on.

No, I think it's time for you to leave.

You're probably late for an Indian lunch

with Malcolm Gladwell's dirty old penis.

Do you still want the check?

Yes, please.

Yeah.
Well, you're not gonna get it.

Fuck you. And fuck them.

Stop looking at me.

Weirdos.

And fuck whatever the hell
that lame-ass gift for donors

was supposed to be.

Oh, shoot.

It is a small
Bluetooth speaker

that clips onto your belt loop
with a carabiner,

you arrogant sack of shit!

Carl, turn up my mic. Let's go!

You got it.

Listen up, all you needle-dicked,

neoliberal, piss pants pricks.

I am done messing around!

Donate, and we will give you

a motherfucking small
Bluetooth speaker that

clips onto your belt loop
with a motherfucking carabiner.

It is the perfect size to
shove up your little buttholes.

But don't just take my word for it.

Pledge right now and see
for yourself, perverts!

Fabian out!

Holy shit.

I guess deep down, public radio listeners

are just a bunch of progressive pay pigs

begging to get dommed.

Who knew?

And how long will it take the ambulance

to get here?

Mm.

Voila.

Sandy, that's like
the "Mona Lisa" of wieners.

What's she smiling about?

Whose house?

Our house.

Gene's definitely going to sue us.

Sandy, no!