All language subtitles for T.M.F.UNCLE_S02-E06.The.Re-Collectors.Affair_DVDRip

[MAN SINGING]

BOY:
Your bag, sefior?

Your bag, sefior?
Carry your bag, sefior?

- Candy? Candy?
- Oh, go away.

- Candy? Candy? Candy?
- Go away. Don't be such a pest.

Candy?

Would you, uh, close the door, please?

[GUNSHOT]

[BELLHOP GRUNTS]

Would you be kind enough to give me
the police department, please? Mm-hm.

[VALETTI SINGING]

Hello? Police department?

My name is Gregori Valetti.

Well, what do you mean, so what?

I have just executed
Colonel Oscar Mannheim. Mm-hm.

He was working as a bellhop
in one of your lesser hotels.

No, no, ha, ha, no.
I won't tell you which one.

Yes, yes. Gregori Valetti.

I work for an organization
called the Pie-Collectors.

Perhaps you've heard of them, huh?

Oh. Oh, you have. Good. Ha.

Well, justice has been done once more. Mm.

Remember, the Pie-Collectors.

We hunt, we find, we kill.

[VALETTI SINGING]

[WOMAN SCREAMING]

- You too?
- Me too.

- And from the urgency of the summons--
- I thought I detected a towering rage.

And it started out
to be such a beautiful day.

Evangeline has some papers for you,
Mr. Nassau.

[SOLO LAUGHS]

[SOLO EXHALES]

Every time I change my name,
it means, uh, trouble.

WAVERLY: Mark Nassau, Mr. Solo.
From the Bahamas, of course.

A legitimate art collector who has agreed
to go into temporary retirement...

...while we use his name and reputation.

Passport, identity card...

...plane tickets, bills.
SOLO: Mm-hm.

Is it, uh, too much to ask what for?

We've placed an ad in the paper,
Mr. Solo, in your new name.

Yesterday's Home Carriers.

“Your looted masterpieces
reclaimed swiftly and efficiently.

Contact Mark Nassau,
[army in pasta, Home.

Signed, the Pie-Collectors.“

For 20 years, Mr. Solo, we've been hunting
a party of four Nazi war criminals...

...who disappeared in 1945
with $17 million worth of looted paintings.

Hunting, hunting, getting nowhere.

Now...

Well, you tell him, Evangeline.

Now, Mr. Solo,
the Home police have given us a lead.

They tell us that
a young woman named Lisa Donate...

...was recently approached
by a man named Gregori Valetti...

...who seems to have some sort of
tenuous connection with these four Nazis.

Tenuous connection, indeed.
He's hunting them down.

Valetti is working for a secret organization
called the Pie-Collectors.

They claim
they are re-collecting those paintings.

And some of the have in fact
been returned to their original owners...

...in exchange
for large payments of money.

Have you ever heard of
a man named Oscar Mannheim?

Or Rudolf Schultz?

Schultz. Mannheim.

Stirs a memory somewhere.

Well, they're two of the four Nazis
we've been looking for.

They were both murdered
by Gregori Valetti.

And in each instance, he called the police
and boasted of having executed them.

You said there were four. Uh, the others?

Well, one of them...

...Ieader of the party, Karl Wemepp...

He is the man we want most.

The other man, we don't know his name.

Anyway, with Schultz and Mannheim dead,
they're the only two left.

Surprising that the Pie-Collectors can find
these people and those paintings so easily...

...when we have tried for 20 years,
very hard but without success.

Yes, annoying, isn't it?

Of course,
we don't know now where Valetti is...

...but we do know that he contacted
Lisa Donate quite recently in Home.

So Home seems to be
a pretty good place to start.

It's my belief this ad of ours
will smoke out the Pie-Collectors.

They'll want to know
who's using their name so blatantly.

And if they know
where those Nazis are...

Well, you follow my reasoning,
Mr. Solo?

Yes, yes. I'm certain that Valetti's gun
will be pointing in the right direction.

I just must remember
not to be standing in front of it. Hm?

Mark Nassau.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[BOTH SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[CAR ENGINE STARTS]

HERAK:
Okay, Nassau. Into the car.

SOLO: Hey, what is this?
HERAK: Go on, get in.

DEMOS:
You know, I can't help wondering...

...just who you expected
to answer this ad of yours.

And whether your apparent naiveté
is natural or assumed. Ha, ha.

But we'll find out, won't we?

Uh, check those for me, will you?

You might just find
a customer or two among them.

Now, Mr. Nassau,
would you be good enough to tell me...

...the meaning
of this enigmatic advertisement?

During the war,
I lost a priceless Correggio.

Looted by the Nazis. I want it back.

I believe
the Pie-Collectors can get it for me.

And how did you come to hear of us?

I learned that certain other Iooted paintings
had been returned to their owners.

I figured the best way to find
the Pie-Collectors...

...was to tempt them to come to me.

And it worked, didn't it?

Yes, it did.

How keen is your palate, Mr. Nassau?

One of these wines is worthless.

The other is virtually priceless.

See if you can tell which is which.

I, uh, won't, if you don't mind.

I promised my dear old mother
that I wouldn't drink until I was 20.

You hurt my feelings.

That was not only discourteous,
it was extremely dangerous.

I'm sure it's no more dangerous
than your wine.

Oh, there are subtle! ways
of making a man talk.

Suppose you tell me who you really are.

PHELAN: Oh...
- Ha.

That was the cheap one.

This is...

...ah, Chateau Margaux, 1913.

Not more than 10 bottles
left in the entire world.

Huh.

A shame we have to deny ourselves
such luxuries.

Ah, all I really want, you see,
is my Correggio. I'm willing to pay for it.

Actually, I'd be
a rather good customer.

DEMOS:
And you're concealing nothing from us?

- No, I'm as innocent as an unborn child.
- And just as vulnerable.

You know, there was a time once...

...when one had to beat a man
to find out what he was hiding.

But these times are more civilized,
don't you think?

I'd prefer not to have that done,
if you don't mind.

You see,
I'm quite allergic to needles, Mister, uh...?

Ah. Demos. Claude Alphonso Demos.

And when you know me better...

...you'll also know
that I like to have my own way.

It's part of the philosophy I live by.

VALET“:
Back. ML Nassau. Back.

You see, Mr. Nassau, there's something
about your story that I don't like.

I must find out what it is.

- I told you I was a collector.
- And I'm a re-collector.

What wine would you think suitable to drink
during an inquisition?

[SOLO SIGHS]

- What is your favorite wine, Mr. Nassau?
- Someone else's.

[SARGEANT SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

You're just in time, sergeant.

- Who sent you?
- I followed this man, Valetti, eh?

So you see, nobody sent me. I came.

And saw and conquered.

- My thanks. I'll see you.
SARGEANT: Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.

[SARGEANT SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Ah, I was afraid of that.

If you would be so kind...

...I believe my chief
would like to speak to you.

Uh, Inspector Fiamma.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

May I visit you in jail, Mr. Demos?

I'll, uh, bring you a bottle
of California wine.

You were lucky my husband's men
arrived when they did.

If they had found out
who you really are...

I am a better hostess than mortician.

Ha. Well, you're very kind, Signora Fiamma.

I am disturbed, Mr. Solo,
that you did not find it necessary...

...to warn us of your interest
in these Pie-Collectors.

My orders were to cooperate
with the local police whenever necessary.

SOLO [ON INTERCOM]: It didn't seem that it was quite time...

...to bother the police with my worries.

- Was I wrong?
- Uh, perhaps. Perhaps not.

But I must ask you now
to lay your cards on the table.

Department F of the Ouestura,
which I have the honor to command...

...is devoting its entire time now
to this search for the Pie-Collectors.

We are prepared
to cooperate with you fully...

...provided, of course,
you return the compliment.

Mm-hm. But of course, inspector.

Have you had time
to search that wine cellar yet?

Ah, they are searching it now.
But I have very little hope.

- Mr. Solo.
- Oh, thank you, signora.

My husband's favorite vintage.

Mm.

SOLO [ON INTERCOM]: A lot of people
know about vintages, signora.

Your health.

Inspector, uh, I was wondering why
you didn't, uh pick me up at the post office.

When I collected those letters.

We intended to.
But we saw you were being watched.

It was a good lead,
and as you saw, it brought results.

We've been looking for that cellar
for along time.

SOLO [ON INTERCOM]: Well, you will apprise me...

...if you come across anything,
won't you?

FIAMMA [ON INTERCOM]: Of course, with pleasure.

[STATIC SWISHING]

Open Channel D, please. Urgent.

Yes?

MARGARET:
Uh, Mr. Kuryakin asking for D, urgent.

Channel D open, Section One here.

Who's in command of the Italian Ouestura,
Department F?

Department F? Department F was disbanded
six months ago.

Don't you fellows ever read the bulletins?

We're just making sure, sir.

Hold on, Mr. Kuryakin. Where are you?

We've taken a villa in Home.

Mr. Solo is being interrogated
by the nonexistent Department F.

How very unenterprising of him.

He used the code phrase
“a lot of people.“

Ah. Then he's worried. Good. What else?

I've located Lisa Donate.
She's coming to see us.

WAVERLY [ON RADIO]
Goad.

I'd better get Mr. Solo out of there before
something unpleasant happens to him.

No, no, no.

When Solo gets into trouble,
that's when he starts getting results.

He might get a very sick headache.

Relax, Mr. Kuryakin.

Mr. Solo is a very highly-trained man.

Anything more?

Nothing more. Signing off.

Well, I really must, uh, be going, inspector.
Could I have my letters back, please?

Um. Well, in a day or two.

When we have finished processing them.

That, uh, cooperation, remember?

A matter of protocol.

My superiors are sometimes quite fussy
about that sort of thing.

Ah, bravo, Solo.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[ALL MEN LAUGH]

Yes, I guess he's told us
all he's ever likely to.

Valetti, the basement.

I'll have Fiamma bring him down there.

Get rid of the body in the furnace.

It's strange that the Pie-Collectors are so
much better at tracking down the Nazis...

...than we are.
FIAMMA: Ha.

Well...

Oh, you will excuse me, Mr. Solo?

Mr. Solo, would you care to have
a glass of cognac?

You're very kind, thank you.

I think I can let you see
the secret tiles on the Pie-Collectors.

- Would you like that?
- Yes, I'd like that.

I keep them
in the strongroom in the basement.

Uh, shall we?

I mustn't, uh, be too long.
I have a possible trump card to play.

- A trump card?
- Yes, someone I have to meet.

He claims he knows
where those paintings are.

An informer, eh.

- But, uh--
- In here?

- Let's make it short and sweet, shall we?
- Uh, no, wait.

Suppose...

Suppose you bring this man to me.

If we interrogate him together--

- Just as soon as we're through here.
FIAMMA: No, that can wait.

Let's see that man first.

I'll send someone with you.

Sergeant?

Escort Mr. Solo where he wants to go.

And show him the way back.

With an informer.

So?

[SARGEANT SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

FIAMMA:
Ciao.

So soon?

No. We have a problem.

- Where is he?
- Don't worry.

It's all under control.

There is an informer running around
who knows where the paintings are hidden.

- But Solo is going to bring him right back.
- You feel. You let him go.

What? But, an informer.

We've got to find out who he is
and what he knows.

You feel! You absolute fool.

There was no informant. That was
just a trick to get out of the house.

You must have given the game away.

Demos.

Demos, please. Time.

There was no time to check with you.

Fiamma, you chose to disobey my orders.

But" But that--

I-- I didn't want to arouse his suspicions.

I think your time has come too.

Demos.

[GUNSHOT]

Even when you're playing a part,
it pains me to see you with another man.

And all for nothing.

Get him for me, darling.

Bring Mr. Solo to the cellar.

I will.

SOLO:
Sergeant.

This is where the informer is waiting.

[KNOCKING]

Of course, if it turned out
that you really are a policeman...

...I'd be in trouble, wouldn't I?

SARGEANT:
Signore?

[SARGEANT GRUNTS]

SOLO: They say that every Italian woman
loves a man in uniform, signorina.

A present for you.

[MUSIC PLAYING ON RECORD PLAYER]

ILLYA:
Just obeying orders.

Mr. Waverly told me to relax. Ah.

Oh, have, uh, you two met?

- Napoleon Solo. This is--
- Lisa Donate, I know.

ILLYA:
Our tenuous connection to Valetti.

Mm-hm. Well, suppose you tell me
just how tenuous.

Okay, I will.

Well, some time ago,
this man, Gregori Valetti...

...told me that he knew I was
the legal owner of a famous painting.

Velézquez's Castilian Woman.

It's very valuable.

But the Nazis looted it...

...from my grandfather's place in Home
during the war...

...and it just disappeared.

Valetti told me he could find it for me
if I gave him $100,000.

Did I have that kind of money?
I don't even have 50,000 lire.

That painting was the last
of what was once a very valuable estate.

You know, taxes, death duties.

SOLO:
Yes, I, uh, know.

So?

So I followed him to Madrid...

...hoping to persuade him
to find my painting at a price I could afford.

I thought a gun
might be a son of subtle argument.

But he got away. End of story.

Not quite.

We'll, uh, catch him again, I'm sure.

That might not be so easy.

When we placed the ad...

...we assumed that whoever came looking
for the replies...

...would be picked up for interrogation.

And so you were able
to plant some phony replies on them.

Well, aren't you clever?

We like to think so.

One of those phony replies
was this address.

Really quite simple.

Casting bread on the waters
to bring home the bacon.

[CREAKING]

An old, old house. Ghosts?

[FOOTSTEPS]

[MUSIC PLAYING ON RECORD PLAYER]

What the...?

Where the devil did you come from?

Mr. Kuryakin.
Forgive the unorthodox entry.

But in my business,
one needs a certain aptitude for caution.

You mind telling me what you want
before I throw you out?

You wrote me a letter
asking me to see you.

- I did?
- Mm-hm.

Ah, the advertisement in the Carriers.
That was yours?

- Yes, that was mine.
- Ah, then that's different, isn't it? Uh.

Won't you sit down, Mr...?

- Valetti. Gregori Valetti.
- Excellent.

You're just the man I want to see.
Sherry?

But you couldn't have
heard my name anywhere.

Oh, but I have.

You approached my fiancee
some while back. You remember?

About a missing Velazquez,
the Castilian Woman.

Your fiancée? Lisa Donate?

Exactly.

You wanted $100,000
for the recovery of the painting.

She doesn't have that kind of money,
but I do.

Now we're going to be married.

So when we saw the advertisement
in the paper...

...I wrote to you
giving you the address of this place.

- You see?
- How very fortuitous.

A moment.

Honey, are you decent?

Of course, for $100,000.
I'd expect some sort of guarantee.

I need only remind you of our reputation.

Well, I suppose that
will be good enough. Ah.

Oh, Mr. Valetti.
How nice to see you again.

Miss Donate.

I'm glad that you finally decided
to make use of our services.

- You still think you can find my painting?
- Oh, I know I can.

- One hundred thousand dollars?
- In advance.

Excuse me.

You know, it's a great deal of money.

But what's money for
if you can't spread it around now and then?

- Ha, darling, you're so good to me.
- No, that's all right, darling.

As long as it makes you happy.

After all, it's only money.

Uh, thank you, Mr. Kuryakin. Ha.

Shall we say a month,
uh, five or six weeks?

We shall be here.

I must admit it takes a special kind of talent
to spend $100,000 in 30 seconds flat.

Thank you for establishing our bona fide
for us.

Oh, don't try and fire me, Mr. Solo.

- They all wanna hang on, don't they?
- Well, in this case, it may be an advantage.

Lisa, believe it or not, is an an student.

And what would you tell Valetti
if he came back?

That I went on vacation?

Well, I must admit...

Uh-huh. Then, that's settled.

IIIya, I think you're going to have to stay
with her. She's going to need a bodyguard.

But of course he'll stay with me.
He's my fiancé.

And you?

Work to be done.

SOLO:
Are we going to scream?

Just one thing.

Tell me where I can find
that charming rogue 01a husband of yours.

Dead, Mr. Solo.

The price exacted by Demos
for letting you escape.

I'm sorry.

Demos, you, your late husband.

The Pie-Collectors?

Does that change your allegiance?

I want the man who killed my husband.

There is, uh, nothing more sterile
than vengeance, Signora Fiamma.

Sterility is all that is left for me now.

One question has always bothered me.

Why is it that the Pie-Collectors
announce their murders to the police?

Why do they wanna
draw attention to themselves?

We re-collect paintings, Mr. Solo.

In that process,
sometimes people are killed.

But our victims are war criminals...

...to whose deaths is attached
very little public resentment.

By drawing attention to the fact
that the victims are criminals themselves...

...Demos has always hoped
to attract less attention to his re-collecting.

That make sense.
Where, uh, do I find Demos?

In his wine cellar, always.

But you won't get it easily.
It's well defended.

If you have help,
I suggest you use it now.

No, no help.
I'm essentially a one-man operation.

Tell me about Karl Wemepp.

He's the head of the Nazi group
that originally stole those paintings.

We have been looking for him
for along time.

- And Gregori Valetti?
- A trained hunter.

The man we employ to do our killings.

SOLO:
Hm.

So we have two groups.

The Nazi deserters,
headed by Karl Wemepp...

...and the Pie-Collectors hunting them down,
headed by...?

Demos, who else?

You're very frank with me, signora.

I told you.

I want the man who is responsible
for the death of my husband.

Get Demos for me, Mr. Solo.

Kill him.

You suggested I might have trouble getting
into the wine cellar. I might need help.

Whenever you do need help...

...I will be waiting.

That's good.

[WHISPERS]
Arrivederci.

[CAT MEOWING]

[CAT MEOWS]

[GUNSHOTS]

- You all right?
- You're a lousy shot.

Yeah, I'm all right. I'll live.

- No, wait.
- I can get him.

Follow him, carefully.
Tell Valetti where he goes.

Well, the widow Fiamma
was certainly telling the truth...

...about the fact
that the cellar is well guarded.

Did you say the widow Fiamma?

Yes, for letting me escape...

...her husband was executed
by our wine-imbibing friend Demos.

Heel that she doesn't hold him
responsible for the murder.

Since I was indirectly the cause of it,
I think maybe she's gunning for me.

Something to think about.

Your friends
are always such complicated people.

She's a very attractive girl
and, I feel, extremely competent.

- Mr. Solo?
- No, thank you.

I'm always depressed when I see
competence reflected in a woman's face.

I feel a woman should be--

Well, an attractive woman
should be much more than just competent.

Well, she is, believe me.
A great deal more.

IIIya, you like puzzles.

Work on this for a little while:

Why is it that half of the police forces
of Europe, and our own organization...

...have been searching unsuccessfully
for the Nazis for 20 years?

And why have the Pie-Collectors
been successful?

They found the paintings, they found
Rudolf Schultz, found Oscar Mannheim...

...two of the men who stole them.

- How come?
- The answer is quite obvious, isn't it?

They know where to look.

Yes, it's obvious,
but how do they know where to look?

- That's what we have to find out, isn't it?
_l__

[TIRES SCREECHING]

What's that?

Get to the floor.

[GUNSHOT]

[GLASS BREAKING]

VALETTI:
Outside, quickly.

VALETTI:
Herak.

[GUNSHOTS]

[CRICKETS CHIRPING]

[GUNSHOTS]

[DO NATO SC REAMING]

VALET“:
Where are the others?

Get her out of here.

[BUSHES RUSTLING]

What's the best bet, the wine cellar?

Well, let's hope
that's where they've taken her.

- Let's hope we can get in there.
- Yeah.

Genevieve says she can take me there.

We can't be sure
that she's ready to help.

Well, that's the chance
we'll have to take.

She said Valetti is their executioner,
and he's got Lisa.

There they are now.

A pretty girl in danger,
it's all it needs to lure a man to his death.

DEMOS: If the world were not full of fools,
how would honest criminals make a living?

- Are you sure nobody's here?
GENEVIEVE: Nobody's here, Mr. Solo.

[SOLO LAUGHS]

I should have known, shouldn't I?

DEMOS:
Well done, my dear.

- Is he alone?
GENEVIEVE: He's alone.

I find your trust in women, Mr. Solo,
quite touching.

But for you, it's disastrous.

Where is your partner?

He's out there with your bullet in him.
He's hurt.

I wonder, should we believe that?

With this man, believe nothing.

Where's Lisa Donate?

That is none of your business now.

- Kill him.
- Wait.

Uh, aren't you afraid that I might
pass on my deductions to someone else...

...uh, who might in turn put the nonexistent
Pie-Collectors out of business?

Nonexistent?

Yes, it occurred to me how easy it would be
to locate those paintings...

...if you already knew where they were.

It also occurred to me...

...that you were the only one
who knew where Rudolf Schultz was...

...when everyone else
was looking for him.

And then Mannheim too.

Seemed to me to pose a puzzle.

And, uh, you have come up
with an answer?

No, but I've come up with
another question. Uh.

There were four Nazis involved
in the looting of the paintings.

Schultz, Mannheim...

Was Fiamma the third?

- And if 50--
- If so, Mr. Solo?

If so, then the fourth man,
Karl Wemepp...

...probably was knocking off his partners
to get their share of the loot.

And then selling the pictures,
or at least the lesser ones...

...back to the only people
who could legally buy them.

The original owners.

All in the name
of the discreetly-built-up Pie-Collectors.

Who never really existed, except in
Karl Wenrepp's carefully-promoted publicity.

An idea I find more intriguing
than plausible.

Oh, red herrings always are.

By attracting attention
to the Pie-Collectors...

...you distracted attention
from the Nazis everyone was looking for.

Mr. Solo, if there was ever
hope for you...

...you've just condemned yourself to die.

Yes, I was afraid of that.

At least I know I was right, though.

A little late, isn't it,
for much satisfaction?

Tell me where Lisa Donate is.

At least I'd die comfortably
if I knew she was in good hands.

And have you passed on this information?

Well, that's an answer
that you'll have to find out.

SOLO [ON INTERCOM]: And you'd better hurry.

Yes, I think I'd better had.

[FOOTSTEPS]

[BOTH MEN GRUNTING]

[GUNSHOT]

[VALETTI GRUNTS]

DEMOS:
Your time has run out, Mr. Solo.

[ALL COUGHING]

[GUNSHOTS]

SOLO:
Thanks for hurrying.

The sleep will do these two good.

[GUNSHOT]

SOLO:
What happened?

ILLYA:
What happened to Demos and the girl?

SOLO:
The door.

[CLATTERING]

[DO NATO G HUNTS]

The last time this weapon was used,
it killed the great chevalier Bayard.

You see, my dear, history lives on.

Only people die.

But how wonderful
to be killed with so historical a weapon.

- They are not worthy of it.
- You're wrong, my dear.

To protect all this,
no weapon could be more appropriate.

[DONATO GRUNTING]

An arquebus. Hm.

Just one shot, Hen Wemepp?

- Before you get that reloaded--
- I need only one shot, Mr. Solo.

How do you get this thing
to go back up again?

Don't wanna keep my friend wait--
Oh, yes.

Hi. How are you?

[DO NATO G HUNTS]

Oh, so this is the little lot
that you smuggled out of Germany. Hm?

What an imaginative way
to describe the world's finest art collection.

But you're an imaginative man,
aren't you, Mr. Solo?

Mm. Not really, just stubborn.

SOLO: You got Mannheim's share
of the loot, next you got Schultz's...

...finally, Fiamma.

Now you have all of it, haven't you?

You never did really intend
to give back the Castilian Woman, did you?

Is this it?

Mm-hm.

It is beautiful.

Yes.

Too beautiful for the vulgar.

Look around you.

Perugino's Damnation.

Rembrandt's Dutch Cottage.

Coneggio's Madonna.

And the Castilian Woman.

Some of the finest masterpieces
ever painted.

You think I'd let every uneducated Iout
drool over them?

A great painting dies a little,
step by step...

...with every uninformed glance
that falls upon it.

Did you know that?

If it is great, it has life.

And if it has life, it can die.

Did it ever occur to you, Wemepp...

...that a lot of normal people
like great paintings too?

And now they're mine.

- Stand away from that painting.
- No, I think I'm much safer here.

I don't think you'll fire that “blunderbus“
in this direction.

It's pointed at Miss Donate.

My life for hers, is that a fair trade?

No, it is not. The stakes are too high.

[GUNSHOTS]

Karl! Karl!

Karl, Karl.

Oh, Karl.

[8038]
Oh, my darling.

Karl, I've loved you so much.

You have no memory
for your late husband, signora?

GENEVIEVE:
Fiamma? He was never my husband.

A part to play, no more.

All my life, one man. Only one.

[8038]
And now he's gone.

No, he's not gone. It's just a sleep dart.

He'll be well enough soon to stand trial.

Well, it's all yours.

A million-dollar Castilian Woman.

Will she die a little if we watch awhile?

I think not.

[ENGLISH SDH]