Left. Left.
Left, right, left.
Left. Left.
Left, right, left.
Hut.
Present colors.
Hut. Hut. Hut.
Hut. Hut. Hut. Hut.
Raising halyards!
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
Chelsea, are you sure
you can't raise the flag while I go to my church retreat?
I haven't missed a raise in over two years.
Oh, I wish I could, but I can't.
You don't even know when it is yet?
Oh, I still can't.
Caroline?
Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't listening.
I was just wondering how Oprah and Stedman make it work
with such challenging schedules.
I can't leave unless I find someone.
Mm, I'll do it.
I got you covered.
Anybody else?
There you are, Mrs. Adler.
Fillmore is forming a kickball team
for the district league this year.
You're gonna be it's new coach.
I don't do sports.
Every teacher has to participate in an extra-curricular activity,
and you've already declined football, volleyball, soccer,
and for some reason checkers.
Checkers is a gateway game.
I'm sorry, but your number is up.
This sucks.
Competitive sports breed future date rapists.
This may as well be a giant roofie.
We got a thief.
Someone's been stealing cleaning supplies.
Oh, sugar.
I mean, shit.
'Cause I say that curse.
We need to get on this
and create an action agenda together.
Maybe at P.F. Chang's?
I'm just bringing you up to speed.
I got this. I just need to weed through
last week's security footage.
Oh, all right.
Maybe we can get some Chang's next time.
You guys wanna play kickball?
Yeah, I'm really good.
My mom says I'm the Greg Louganis of kickball.
Really?
Okay. Let's see what you got.
My mom says I have great follow through.
- Whoo-hoo! - That's one way to look at it.
Though slightly delusional.
Okay.
Deidre.
Try catching.
- Oh! - Are you okay?
I'm awesome.
How's the criminal investigation going?
Come here. You need to see the footage
from last Tuesday. Did you find the thief?
Oh, check this out, Toby. Come on.
Miss Cannon? I don't believe it.
Look at that.
Ready to load up the goods like hippie Santa Claus.
Wait for it.
What is that?
That's what hypocrisy tastes like.
She's vegan, right?
Yeah.
It's like watching a jackal eviscerate an ox.
That's weird, right?
Welcome to my world.
Mm.
Ooh. Sorry I'm late.
I had to run to my apartment and turn on my lava lamp
to make sure it was working right by the time I got home.
Feldman, this is serious.
This flag is a symbol of America
and it must be treated with the utmost respect.
If so much as a thread of this flag is desecrated,
it must to be burned immediately.
- Ho-ho, whoa. - If you're going to do this,
you need to treat it honorably.
- Do you understand me? - Hells yeah.
Remind me to buy bat food on my way home.
This can't be it.
Where's the Fillmore field?
You're on it, Top Gun.
Really?
This looks like a giant litter box.
If you're here to pick up your kid,
they've got another 15 minutes of practice.
I'm Marta Stryker.
I'm the kickball coach at Lakewood Elementary.
I came to scout our competition.
You drove 15 miles to scout a grade school kickball team?
No. I ran.
Is that your team?
They just started practicing.
Listen, our uniforms cost more than you make in a year.
We're undefeated the last seven seasons,
so why don't you do that litter of preemies a favor
and forfeit Friday's game?
Oh, my God, they're pathetic.
Whoa, hold up, Green Mile.
The kid on my team may not be "athletes"
or "coordinated" or "fully-functioning humans,"
but that doesn't give you the right to come over here
and take a 'roid dump on them.
Look, you dress like a teen runaway,
so I'm guessing you know what it's like
to have your dreams crushed,
but don't do that to your kids.
I was not a teen runaway.
I faked my own death
to find out who really cared about me.
We will not forfeit.
Last chance, Beetlejuice.
Read my lips.
- No forfeit. - Got it, I got it, I got it!
I'm just saying, not having a vegan-only microwave
could be seen as discrimination.
Have the chickens stopped screaming, Cecilia?
What?
No vegan microwave.
Ooh, looks like someone caught the crafting bug.
No, I haven't given up on life yet.
These are uniforms for my kickball team.
Ugh, they smell like fruit leather and stale urine.
I thought you hated competitive sports?
I do, but I'm also a champion for the underdog,
and that pituitary freak Marta needs a [bleep] punt.
Why don't you coach them in something
you're actually good at? Like brooding?
Or being an emotional time bomb?
I could make those kinds into champions
if it wasn't for the fact that their parents raised them
with delusional millennial self-esteem.
So I need to break them down and reprogram them
in order to make them a team.
Seems like someone's using these kids
to work through their own issues.
Do... do I seem like I have issues?
Hope you don't mind I salted it.
Good for me. Chocolate covered raisins?
Wait, wait.
There's... Miss Snap is going in.
Oh!
Ugh.
How deep is it in there?
Well, she got it out.
Wednesday's a bust.
This might take us all week.
- You think? - Yeah.
Mm.
Sweet and salty.
Sweet.
And on the 12th fold,
make sure the stars face skyward,
reminding us of this nation's great motto:
In God we trust.
- Got it? - Got it.
Okay, your turn.
Got it.
Oh.
So you're saying our parents have been lying to us
about how good we are?
- Yeah. - Well, my mom says
we're all winners for having spunk.
You aren't, and tell your mom
to stop using the word "spunk." It means something else now.
Our game with Lakefield is on Friday,
and you've got to take my word for it.
You currently have absolutely zero chances of winning
because you're terrible and you have no skills.
So let's just imagine what you're saying is true,
what do you suggest we do about it?
You get off your butts,
you stop living in a dream world,
and you learn how to play the game.
Bring it in. Come on.
All right, "go" on three.
One, two, three,
go!
You're supposed to say "go"
not go go.
Remember,
the flag cannot touch the ground.
Right.
All right, Quinn.
Let's see what you got.
Come on, buddy. Look alive, look alive.
Come on. Good, good work.
Nathan, incoming.
Just like that!
Yeah, hustle, hustle, hustle.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, hustle.
Oh, take your time, D.
Tag her, Quinn.
Yes!
Ooh, I made it!
I made it! I did it!
- I kicked it! - Yeah, buddy, yeah!
No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Don't do that.
Ready?
- Hut. - Hut.
- Hut. Hut. Hut. - Hut.
- Hut. Hut. - Hut.
- Hut. Hut! - Hut.
I'll just cancel my church retreat.
No, wait.
I can do better.
You may think I'm a mess,
but I'm a patriot too.
The country responsible for both Jerry and Cherry Garcia?
Sign me up.
A nation that drapes full strips of bacon
around the entire circumference of a pizza crust?
That's where I want to live.
A great democracy
where you can drive your truck to a stadium
and watch other trucks get crushed
by even bigger trucks?
Don't tread on thee.
Please?
Just give me another chance?
One more.
Hut. Hut.
Hut. Hut. Again.
Shoulders squared. Hut. Hut.
Chin up, ears back, feet forward...
- Hut. Hut. Hut. Hut. - Tight butt,
fingers tucked, lock your knees.
Hut. Again. Again.
Again!
That was good.
What're you doing? That's not part of it.
You protected the flag.
You're ready.
Wait. What?
- Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa. - It's 11:00 p.m.
Who's this guy?
Peas and rice.
Not Miss Watson.
That is so disappointing.
Wait a minute.
She's not leaving.
Let's fast forward a little bit.
She's cleaning.
I guess that's not really a problem.
No, that's helpful.
We did it.
We caught our thief.
That we did, partner.
All right, good job.
Okay.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. It's you, Toby.
- Mm. - Well, you can't tur...
- we're... turn that off. - No, no way, no way.
No, no, no, no.
Oh, please turn it off.
I'm not a man.
Okay, we gotta go! Whoo!
- Let's go, everybody! - Eye of the tiger, guys.
- Look badass. - Go, do your flip!
Go, let's go, let's go! Come on, everybody.
Line it up, line it up, line it up!
So your team ready to get buried like a cat turd?
You're a cat turd!
Wow, they're bigger than us.
I don't think we can beat them.
Hey, you need to get your heads in the game.
If they sense the slightest sweetness,
they will tape a ketchup soaked tampon
to the seat of your pants,
and their taunting posts on MySpace will haunt you
- for the rest of your life. - What's MySpace?
You need to face your enemy and fight
or they will call you Dumb Fatter,
which doesn't even make sense
'cause you're name is Deb Adler.
My name is Deb Adler! It's Deb Adler!
Where are you guys going?
You said we were terrible,
and you were right.
Hey, hey, hey, Iguanas, wait. Don't quit.
You were all so excited about playing kickball.
That was before we knew we sucked.
I can't believe our parents lied to us for so long.
No, you don't suck.
Guys, I'm sorry.
This isn't about you. Now, I know looking at me,
you think I have it all together,
but I've got some deep issues.
I'm a real mess on the inside.
Obviously.
Anyway.
Yes, I said that you were terrible
and you were, but you're not terrible anymore.
Quinn, you might have the reflexes of a toddler,
but you kick like a meth head
getting hauled into a squad car.
Nathan, when you started,
you were tripping over your own loafers,
but now you run like you've got a Roman candle in your crack.
And Deidre, you catch more balls out in that field
than Taylor Swift at a Hampton's barbecue.
You know what? Forget that.
Uh, you just... you catch really, really well.
I think you guys can really win this.
So what do you say?
Let's beat these guys!
- Iguanas! Iguanas!
Toby. Toby, hold up.
Don't look at me.
Hey, I got something I want you to see
- in the security office. - You don't need me.
You're the real deal, Frank.
Trust me.
You're gonna wanna see this.
Okay. What is it?
Okay.
And here we go.
What?
Oh...
- Mm, mm. - Oh, dear.
Okay, we're done.
Now...
I think we should erase these files
to make room on the hard drive.
I appreciate that.
Oh, and also...
uh, I think maybe we should continue monitoring things.
Just to be on the safe side.
I think that's a good idea.
Maybe order some Chang's.
I'd be down for that.
Present colors.
Oh, my God.
We don't have time for this crap.
Let's play ball!
Yes, come one, Iguanas!
- Iguanas! - Iguanas! Iguanas!
One thing I forgot to tell you,
nobody respects what we do.
Play ball!
"The Nutcracker Suite" by Tchaikovsky
They never even broke a sweat.
I think the tall girl has an Adam's apple.
Those uniforms were clearly tailored.
I wish we taught at a rich school.
Whoo!
I owe you guys an apology.
I bought into that whole "anything is possible" crap,
but it's not.
However, there is a silver-lining.
Knowing what you're not good at will push you
towards the things you're going to be great at.
Like memorizing facts about tortoises?
For now,
but maybe one day HTML coding
or Quest Fantasy literature writing
or improv comedy. You'll see.
In ten years, we'll all be laughing about this
- at Comic-Con. - Hey, hon, you ready?
Take it easy, Quinn.
- We got creamed, Mom. - That's okay.
You're still full of spunk.
Mom, you have to stop saying that.
Whoa!
Wow. Roller skates.
- She's good. - I...
Spider-woman.
Spanks for the memories.
Well, they get hot.
_