01x03 - The Bad News Bapples

[bunniefuu]

[jazz riff plays]

When you sentence this man
for his drunk driving,

I urge you to remember

the damage he's done to this community.

Physical, yes, but also emotional.

-I object.
-On what grounds?

On, uh…

On the grounds
that we're old golf buddies.

Sustained.

I think the most appropriate punishment

for a drunk driver who crashed his car
into a crowded soup kitchen is…

I sentence you to coach
a youth basketball team.

-[Sheila and Lincoln] What?
-Oh, hell yeah! [laughs]

[♪ "Wang Dang" by Bob Destiny playing]

[Lincoln] This is an injustice.

Nichols gets out of a DUI, he gets
to coach a bunch of lovable outcasts,

and he gets good PR.

Enough is enough.

Two can coach at that game,

meaning I will coach
my own ragtag kids' basketball team.

We got that.

Now, to coach these kids, I'm gonna need
someone who understands physical fitness,

or maybe someone crafty enough
to think up trick plays.

Who's good at tricks?

Of course, Barry Chandelier.

[dramatically] Ahem.

You know, Lincoln, I got more under my hat
than a little g*n named Dr. Problems.

I also got 30 years' experience
in fixin' children's athletics

and a knife named Little Stinker.

Let me help.

That's okay, Glem. Here's 200 bucks.
Just go have fun.

Hot damn! Let's go
before he changes his mind. Come on, g*ng!

[burst of dynamic music]

-You don't know anything about basketball.
-[crashing]

Name one NBA player right now. Hurry up.

Parles. Mr. Parles. The Eggman.
Plub… in. Plubbins.

Okay, so you know one guy,
but so does everyone.

Come on, let me coach.

I gotta get outta this office
with all its borin' law papers

and legal staplers.

Fine, but someone's gotta find
that horrible thing you bought.

What thing?

[distant sirens wailing]

Hey, Sheila Stans.

Remember when I said
I would do somethin' big

to put this place on the map?

Well, check out hashtag BabyBertram!
It's trending through the roof!

Sheila, did you kidnap a baby?
A baby named Bertram?

What? No.

Baby Bertram is a funny-talking robot toy
I got at the drugstore.

[deep voice] I'm Baby Bertram!

-And I say work is for the friggin' birds.
-[doll playing rock music]

-[brakes squealing]
-That is horrible.

[woman on loudspeaker]
Sheila Flambé, we've got you surrounded.

I did steal it, though.

-Oh, yeah.
-[Bertram] Oh, yeah.

[laughs] Bertram is wonderful.

-Where did you hide it?
-I don't remember!

-Oh-oh-oh! I'll find it, Unkie.
-Great. Bury it in the desert.

[Bertram] Bury me in, like, uh…
bikini models, Daddy-o.

[screams in delight] He's perfect.

[Nichols] All right, first things first.

I don't like you kids.

I only care about one thing. My career.

-Okay.
-[kids scoff]

-Come on.
-Yeah, right.

How am I supposed to coach you?

This kid's rude, this one's crude,
this one has a single mother,

and you've got
a whole cowboy-based persona.

-This is never gonna work.
-Howdy, partner!

[chuckles] You wish, kid.

I only partner
with sophisticated adult lawyers.

♪ Two different worlds ♪

-I would like one peewee basketball team.
-No narcs.

Ooh. That's a dilly of a pickle.

We don't have any left
because a local judge

keeps sentencing people with DUIs
to coach youth basketball.

You could wait until one of the
current ones gets injured driving drunk.

Sentencing them to coach children
has not been a deterrent.

So I'm left out of sports.

It's like being
a home school kid all over again.

Oh, you were homeschooled?

Yep. The whole home school experience.

Skipped three grades,
still scared of strangers and the sun.

-Watched Cruel Intentions for sex ed.
-[laughs]

-Who'd you take to prom? Your maid?
-No!

She didn't wanna ruin our friendship.

[laughs] Well, home school kids
don't have a team

because the government doesn't
legally recognize them as children.

So, if you actually want to coach them,
you could start one.

Mm. Coach the kids
who are such kooky misfits

that they can't even be on one
of the kooky misfit teams.

That's the stuff that gets you
on the cover of Barely Legal,

the magazine that covers lawyers' lives
outside the courtroom.

Coach Nichols,
you eat boogers for breakfast?

No! I eat food!

-[mocking laughter]
-♪ You doggone kids ♪

You kids are startin'
to crack my tough facade.

Soon.

All right, time to hunt a baby.
The most dangerous game.

[Bertram] I wish the copier machine were
a… a friggin' margarita machine or…

-Or somethin'.
-[laughs]

Good one, BB.

Let's see.

Baby Bertram was Sheila's date
to that wedding,

and Uncle Lincoln used him to practice
standing up to intimidating men.

-[Bertram] Baby needs his bottle.
-[gasps]

-[skittering]
-Of beer.

I'm a drunk baby.

Wait, is it moving?

[horror movie musical sting]

All right, ladies, which one of you
is pregnant with Glem's cash baby?

[chimes]

What in the bucket?

Hot clams. I'm Glem.
I'm a lawyer. Help me find my bounty.

About dang time this joint figured out
what people want.

-Let's boogie, baby face.
-Let's boogie, baby face.

-[whistle blares]
-Okay, home school team. Huddle up.

-[boy] Who is that man?
-[kids whispering]

Relax, Sheila. I got this.

It's safe to come out.
We won't teach you about evolution.

I'm your coach, Lincoln Gumb.
Look, I'm one of you.

[inspiring music playing]

When I say your name, raise your hand.
Squirrel Barley.

Hi, Coach. Can you give me
my various lifesaving injections?

Medical stuff
is Coach Sheila's department.

No take-backs. Next up, Tap Walden.

[gasps] Oh!

Would it not inconvenience
your esteemed personage

if I were to indulge in the recitation
of a verse with your permission?

Uh… uh…

Verily, at the end of, uh… thine practice.

Mildred Crumbles?

Mm, Sir Coach, did you know a bee
beats its wings 11,400 times a minute?

Yes!

And you both are named Chancely Johnson?

-[both] Yes'm.
-Are you guys brothers?

-Yes.
-No.

Lincoln, it's like these kids came
from the remainders table

at Planned Parenthood.

No, they're just a little offbeat.

-Like Nichols's team.
-[country music playing on speakers]

-♪ We're coming together… ♪
-That's it, now!

♪ Through the power of dance ♪

[groans]

Okay, so, I've already learned
the big movie lesson

that all that matters is having fun.

So Coach Sheila will handle
all the basketball stuff.

Now, uh… go have fun.

-[Chancely 1 wails]
-[Tap grunts]

Mm, Coaches, I threw up
in my beekeeping suit, as usual.

Also, my nose is bleeding.
Also, what happens when you die?

-Well, first your eyeballs...
-Water break.

[whistle blares]

Lincoln, I'll be right back.
I just got an incredible idea.

[Bertram laughing]

[coughing]

Uh, sounds like it's in, uh…

Glem's se… secret drawer.

[grunts]

Uh-uh-uh!

You didn't say the magic word.

-[gasps]
-Uh-uh-uh!

-Uh-uh...
-Please!

God dammit! I hate this Glem crap.

[Bertram] Where's the beef, honey?

-The beef is what's for dinner! Ha ha!
-[clattering]

This is how you guys have fun?

[door bangs open]

There's nothin' in the rule book
that said a dog can't play basketball.

[all wailing]

It is a sin for dogs
to wear people clothes.

Not since Vatican II.
Man, are you kids allergic to fun?

-[barks]
-[shrieks]

[blows whistle]

Okay, that's enough body fluid
for one day. Good job, everyone.

We're gonna give 'em heck at the game.

-This wasn't a game?
-Betrayer!

No, no. This was a fun practice.

Our fun game is tomorrow
against kids on a different team.

-Real schoolkids? Children of the desk?
-Yes. It'll be fun.

[buzzer sounds]

So glad they called this at the half.
[chuckles]

I've never seen them use a scoreboard
to show how many nosebleeds

the teams gave each other
instead of the score.

Well, thanks
for having your kids fake a couple.

Ah, it was no problem.

Anyway, I have some drunk driving to do.

At least this is just peewee basketball,

and no one actually cares
about winning or losing.

[rock music playing]

-[slot machine chiming]
-[Glem] Gah!

Nuts to you.

I've wasted enough of my time
and my hard-earned money gambling.

Time to pick up the pieces
of my broken life.

Nuts to you! I would never do that.

Relapse bonus!

Now this is pod racing.

[cackling]

Whoa, they made me my own Waluigi.

What's his name? Is it somethin' good?

It's-a me, Glaluilem!

Nope.

You're an embarrassment.
Father only loves a winner.

Insert more money to make me proud.

Excuse me, please. Who made this?

And how do they know
my father's dying words?

Oh, well.

-[cheerful music playing]
-[laughter]

[out-of-tune violin playing]

-What'll it be?
-Six giant cream corns and buttermilks.

You got it! Six homeschooler delights!

Hey, do you guys want some tokens
to play games?

[laughs] Good sir,
we have not journeyed hither

for the pursuit of videoed games.

Our sole purpose is the acquisition
of the milk and corn of human kindness.

Milk and corn!

[all chant] Milk and corn! Milk and corn!

Milk and corn!
Milk and corn! Milk and corn!

Milk and corn! Milk and corn!

Hello, dickhead. You look well.

How is your team doing?

We may have lost, but they had fun,
and that's really all that matters.

Man, I knew that before you did.
It's not fair.

Also, it turns out losing sucks
and isn't fun at all.

[crashing]

-[wailing]
-[Lincoln groans]

-[Nichols chuckles]
-[kids whimpering]

You have so much to learn, son.
I feel bad for you.

Stop having inner peace. We're enemies.

[burst of inspiring music]

Stop that! And what's with you
and that kid's mom?

You're married.

Oh, Lincoln. You're so lost.
Good luck with the season, bud.

You're the villain, not me!

Wait till we somehow meet
in the championship

and my kids show yours
the true meaning of pain.

I realize I sound like the villain.

Curses.

Slice-O the Pizza b*tch
is Baby Bertram's number-one home dog.

[hip-hop music plays]

These two party bots can even…

♪ Say hey-hey! ♪

[Bertram] ♪ Hey! ♪

…talk to each other.

Oh, great!
I can use this to track him down.

-Oh my God.
-[skittering and crashing]

-[Bertram] Bertram's a one-baby party.
-[screams]

What if one of you
brings a g*n onto the court?

We could sneak some baskets in
during the panic.

Coach Lincoln, my dad says
g*ns are only for protecting the bean farm

from the government.

Yeah, mine too. Uh, it's the same guy.

No, it's not. [scoffs]

If only one of you were,
like, fast or strong.

[Mildred] Mm, what about Horse Girl?

Horse Girl is stronger than my pa.
She delivered him unto the angels.

I told you guys,
no more imaginary friends on the team.

We already have Eric the Pigman,
Weeping Thomas, and Glaluilem.

[Mildred] Horse Girl is very real.

Wild horses raised her, and she wanders
the land near my family's compound.

[Lincoln] Raised by horses, eh?

Don't get much more homeschooled
than that.

[chiming]

Man alive, how long
have I been sittin' here?

I need to drain the proverbial p*nis.

[phone rings]

-What do you want?
-[woman] Where are you going, Glemjamin?

Emily Melderson?!

My prom date from high school?

Oh, I've got so many questions,
but I gotta pee first.

[giggles] You don't need to leave
to pee, silly boy.

Glem's Bounty has everything you need.

[water trickling]

Also, I don't blame you
for the car accident.

-I would.
-[hangs up]

[suspenseful music playing]

[music fades]

Gather round, team. We have a surprise.

Ooh-hoo-hoo!

Pheasant under glass?

Even better. I present to you
our new center, Horse Girl.

-[galloping]
-[screaming]

-Yeah!
-[neighing]

[grunting]

[whinnying]

-[grunts]
-[Lincoln yelps]

She's got the rage-filled power
of Ron Artest

with the fluid grace of Metta World Peace.

[chuckles] We have our ringer.

-♪ We're bound for glory… ♪
-[grunting]

-[neighing]
-♪ Yeah, we're bound for glory… ♪

-[cheering]
-Yeah!

-[snorting]
-♪ We're bound for victory ♪

♪ Bound for glory ♪

-Transcendent!
-[music fades]

I can't believe we found a powerful weirdo
to counteract the weak ones.

Maybe we can still make it to the finals
by some miracle.

They're calling it
the opposite of a miracle.

A plane carrying the top four
children's basketball teams in the city

has crashed with no survivors.

And in gambling news,

the crash leaves only two teams alive
to play for the championship.

Those of coach-slash-local-hero-
slash-lawyer Steve Nichols

and of coach-slash-local-zero-slash-
model-training's resident good boy,

Lincoln Gumb.

Ay, such a tragedy.

[magical music playing]

This damn fog machine.
Ah, she always malfunctioning.

Can you take down that picture of me
with the Vegas's Handsomest Lawyer trophy?

Turns out that was a radio station prank.

Drinks for everyone! My team just gave me
a Vegas's Handsomest Coach trophy.

What a life-changing experience,

that's also given my firm
a bunch of incredible PR!

[laughs]

And my wife is very into
having three ways with single moms.

-I love life!
-[kettle whistling]

[Nichols laughing]

Mr. O'Raviolio?

I think your fog machine's
acting up again.

Fog machine? Lincoln, I haven't had
a fog machine in-a 30 years!

[big band jazz music playing]

[man] My God!
He's been playing for four days straight.

He hasn't won a spin,
but he keeps feeding in more money.

Your bespoke slot machine idea's
created the perfect gaming device.

-Yay!
-Hear! Hear! Hurrah! Yes!

What have I done?

I can't justly release
a device this powerful to the world.

My only solace is that there was no way
to know I was working for villains.

Huzzah! The chemicals we dumped
by the preschool exploded,

just as I loudly hoped for.

[hype music playing]

Welcome to the Greater Las Vegas Area's
Peewee Basketball Championship.

-I am local character, Lunchmeat.
-And I am Mayor George Wallace.

Woo-hoo-hoo!

Boy, the feeling
inside this gym is electric!

We haven't seen drama like this

since the heyday
of Mr. Parles "The Eggman" Plubbins.

Now let's go down
to the court for tip-off.

All right, team. Remember what I told you.

Squirrel, you're allergic to rubber,
so don't hold the ball too long.

Tap, don't you wander off,

no matter how resplendent a bird
you glance upon this summer's morn.

And Chancelys, whatever you do,
do not look me in the eyes.

Okay? Break!

-[whistle blows]
-[applause]

[rock music playing]

-[whimpering]
-[Horse Girl neighs]

[grunting]

[crowd cheering]

[grunting]

[buzzer sounds]

[neighs]

-[screaming]
-[crowd gasping]

Well, there goes my ride home.

[applause]

[barks]

[inspiring music playing]

[slowed] Wow!

[dog yelps]

[eagle screeches]

[buzzer sounds]

-[crowd groan]
-[sighs]

[game music playing]

No! This ends now!

[game whines]

Don't k*ll me.

I've never been to France…

[slowing] …where the naked ladies da…

-[music fades]
-Dead.

You're free.

Live your purpose as you were meant to.

Free of my perfidy.

You as*h*le! I was playin' that!

But the game was evil.
It took $40,000 from you.

Yeah, but I liked that little Waluigi guy.

He reminded me of my Italian neighbors
who's always stealin' my bounty.

-But I…
-[game music playing]

Oh! Hakuna matata bonus!

[machine] Let's boogie, baby face.

All right, guys,
no need to get down on yourselves.

I have never seen such a horrible period,
and I am Lunchmeat, the gross man.

Like I was saying, keep your chins...

As mayor, I'm gonna tell the cops
to make sure these kids have bad lives.

Sir Coach, might you grant mine privilege

to recite a verse
to rally our forlorn spirits?

You know what? Yeah.

This feels like the part of the movie

where you use an under appreciated skill
to save the day.

[medieval music playing]

Apples, uh…

Uh…

Bapples… bapples…

[yelps] Oh no! What am I saying?

-[sobbing]
-[sighs]

[Sheila] Y'all are so right.
This team sucks. [laughs]

I'm startin' to think
God hates home school kids.

Okay, y'all, I gotta go
before they realize I'm talkin' to y'all.

Now, I want you to read chapter eight
while I'm at work,

and remember, if you need something,

you can always call random phone numbers
until someone helps you.

[moody music playing]

[all gasp]

Got room for one more?

Absolutely. You're up.

[grunts]

[groans]

[burbles]

Hey, man, it takes practice.
Come back tomorrow, and we'll try again.

Thanks.

By the way, do you think
when our moms die,

we'll see them naked
before their funerals?

-[all gasp]
-Wha… What?

Hey, sorry, kid.

I'm kind and all, but you gotta go.

[somber musical sting plays]

Kids, I'm sorry.

I thought they were the evil team,
and we were the lovable underdogs.

But that's wrong. We're not lovable.

[poignant music playing]

We're something else.

We're home school kids.

Those other kids grow up to be
car salesmen, restaurant managers,

and male nurses.

They'll have barbecues
and friends over to watch the game.

But not us.

We'll go to reptile shows
and Korean w*r reenactments,

and we'll never feel right in the world

because we were never allowed
to actually grow up in it.

So, no, we can't win
at basketball or life,

but there is something we can do.

We can go out there,
channel all the inner rage and hatred

that lurks in our homeschooled hearts,

and make those charismatic friend-havers

wish they'd never stepped
onto the court with us.

So what are you?

Regular kids

or home school monsters?

♪ Homeschool monsters
Homeschool monsters ♪

♪ Homeschool monsters ♪

-♪ Homeschool monsters… ♪
-[whistle blows]

[yells]

-[Chancely 1 snarls]
-[boy yells]

[roars]

-[girl screams]
-♪ Homeschool monsters ♪

♪ Homeschool monsters… ♪

-[screams]
-♪ Homeschool monsters ♪

♪ Homeschool monsters ♪

Yah!

[screaming]

[buzzer sounds]

[Lunchmeat] The darkest day
in peewee basketball history.

This game has been called early,
and Lincoln's team is banned

from youth sports
in the entire state of Nevada.

Okay, but does that count as a loss?

Actually, technically,
in all Vegas sports,

you can win by knockout, so no.

-But you should obviously be ashamed.
-We won!

[team cheering]

We never have to do sports again,
and the normals are scared of us!

I'm proud of you monsters.

Let's go get
some orange juice and white fish.

[all chant] Juice and fish!
Juice and fish!

Juice and fish! Yeah!

[kids yelp]

I'll destroy you for this.

[singsong] Aah, ha ha!
I undid your personal growth!

Oh, man! You did!

ba*ls! Hell ba*ls!

I guess I got a little, uh…

Extremely carried away
by the bloodlust of children's sports.

It's okay, b*tch. Everyone got obsessed
with somethin' this week.

-It was the theme.
-Yeah! [laughs]

Yeah! Even William was obsessed.

William is a man who made
a whole machine about my face.

It spoke with the voice of a dead girl,
and I went to the bathroom in it.

Sure. And just one question, Irene.

-What the hell?
-[Irene whimpers]

It's just a toy. It's… It's safe.

Toys are fun. Fun for children of any age.

-Ages eight to 80.
-[bleep]

-Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
-[music playing]

-[shrieks]
-Ha ha! Yeah!

-Surprise!
-[Irene panting]

I was controlling him
the whole time with my phone.

Torturing you is what
I got obsessed with this week.

Maybe next time, you'll think twice before
you drink one of Sheila's Mountain Dews.

-That was Glem.
-Oh!

-[Irene gulps]
-[laughs loudly]

Whoo! Sorry.

[moody jazz saxophone playing]

Strip Law acknowledges that homeschooling

is often the best solution
for perfectly normal kids.

But also, sometimes,
it's for weird freaks.

And twins!

[theme music playing]

Chirp.