All language subtitles for 2001 A Space Travesty.ENG

It began as a singularity,

the entire universe compressed
into a space the size of a proton.

Then the Big Bang...

blew it apart.

Matter, converted from energy,
swirled and compressed itself into stars

Red Giants...

and tiny white dwarfs.

Stars congealed into galaxies.

Massive nebulae
and timeless spiral clusters,

spinning faster and faster
into the endless void.

Black holes arose, swallowing matter.

Constellations filled the night sky.

Libra...

Stifficus.

Planets took form.

Moons arose...

Atoms formed molecules,
then molecules formed life

throughout the universe...

Alien creatures, hideous in form.

The earth took form.

Then God appeared.

And Gods voice was heard.

Shut up you stupid monkey...

And then a single celled organism

evolved into the highest form
of intellect known to God...

MAN.

It was one of those days you
never forget. I'd arrested Osmond Bin Laden

at a Lakers-Knicks game. Now I was back
in D. C. on the QT making my way asap

to the HQ when I heard the APB:
-All available units to big joes,

hostage situation, armed terrorists.

The police needed my negotiating skills,
perfected by years of volunteer service

with the pet rescue division. Coaxing cats
out of trees and gerbils out of holes,

made you smart about a lot of things.

This is the Washington police force.
There is no way out.

You have five minutes to give
yourselves up, and counting.

You're surrounded!
Throw down your arms! Now!

Come out! We've got ya!
-Yeah? And we've got burgers

and hostages and fries...
-I'm ordering you to give yourselves up!

And I'm ordering one car and one plane.

One plain what?
-One plain plane. With pilot.

I want those hostages! Now!
-One hostage coming up!

Those hostages were my new gerbils.
They needed marshal Dick Dix to free them.

Shit!

Dix! This is police business!
You have no jurisdiction here!

Now get lost!

Alright!

Well...

Let's play a little game of
Simon says, good...

Simon says: Get your hands on your
head and line up in front of me here...

hurry it up!

Let's go.

What are you? A bunch of fanatics?
You hate this county, you're mad

just because we don't play soccer here?
-But Mr. Simon, we are the hostages.

Who do you think you're talking to?
A dummy? These hard-working immigrants

are the backbone of this country!
They put the damn on the hover,

they put the railroad ties
over the great divine

and they did it with a smile buddy.
They weren't mad at anybody.

No. Don't lower yourselves to their level.
I'll take care of this.

I'll seek to it that they get a fair trial
and then we'll strung them up.

Fire the tear gas!

I'm gonna kill him! Dix!

Dix!

Let's get one thing clear.
This situation was not created by the police

but it was created by people
who are getting in the way of the police.

The police aren't there to create disorder.
The police are here to protect disorder.

You come back here!

There's nothing better
than a job delicately handled,

but now it was a time to meet
the big boss Secretary Osgood.

I loved my job.
Every day was different.

Every assignment was different. Everything
about the department was different.

Enough, enough, stop, stop.
-This is not respectful for the deceased.

To the untrained eye, this looked like
the normal bullpit of any old precinct.

But hidden deep within the bowels of this
house grave matters of state were at play.

Dix, come on in. Good to see you, my boy.
-Good to see you Mr. Secretary.

This is Cassandra Menage, Executive Officer
on Vegan. -How do you do?

She is in charge of Human and Alien affairs.
-Some kind of dating service?

She oversees our sensitive Alien operations!
-Well there's nothing sensitive about them.

All you need is to tighten up the borders.
-Dix, I'm talking about alien Aliens.

Alien, aliens.
You mean like from outer space?

Yes, Vegan is a lunar base,
just like Area 51, but shielded

from Earth by a reflective bubble,
and there are plenty of Aliens there.

Cassandra files classified reports
to the various international governments.

This latest one she delivered it in person.
If what she says is true,

the future of the planet is at stake.
-Now that could be serious.

I know it smells funny, but the President
of the United States has been kidnapped

and is being held captive on Vegan.
The man in the White House is a clone.

Just a minute, it says here the man
in the White House is a clown.

Clone.

Clone. That's what it says here.
-Yeah, I know. That's my report...

This isn't a joke, Dix.
-I know that Sir, but I saw the President

on television the other night.
-That wasn't the President.

She's right. We're all set for
Memory Recapture. Have a seat Marshal.

Cassandra, your brainwaves
will be transmitted to the screen,

so we'll be able to see
exactly what you saw and heard.

When you're ready,
I want you to tell us what happened.

Close your eyes,
relax and let your unconscious take over.

Let your mind go blank.

Dix.

Dix!

You need to watch the screen.

I'd gone to the Vegan mines to investigate
a grievance by one of the miners...

After a lot of turns and twists,
I realized I was completely lost.

My way was blocked by a cave-in.
Then I noticed light coming through

a crack in the wall.
I moved forward and found myself in a room

overlooking some kind of operating theatre.

A man was talking in an alien dialect,
so I switched the Auto-Trans to English

to see if I could recognize his voice,

but I couldn't.
-I will get that sillicon for you

if you will make me
leader of the new world.

By using DNA building blocks
I will create clones

of existing world leaders
who will follow our orders.

Activate the cloning machine,

and now for our latest clone creation.

A world leader admired by all.

And there he was, Groucho Marx.
But what happen next

was more frightening still.
-In Washington, the man in power,

the President, is a clone... our clone.
Now, let me...

introduce you to his predecessor,
the real President of the United States!

Now we got cloning control,
we will take your earth

and all it's silicon too,
then its hasta la vista.

Bastards!

And that's when I ran, as fast as I could.
-They took the President,

took his DNA and put an impostor
in the White House. Kidnapping,

robbery, and fraud. Breaking the law.
-Dix, I want you to go to Vegan

to make a routine inspection.
I'll arrange the clearances.

If the President is there,
find him and bring him back.

The implications here are very grave.
Any mistakes, even fumbles,

will be denied at this end.
You're acting on your own.

And when you both meet again on Vegan,
you've never seen each other before.

I've forgotten already.
-It'll take me longer than that...

Oh... that's so nice.
-Oh, thank you,

I always had a good memory, even as a boy.
-Well, Marshal.

Miss...
-Menage.

If you don't stop pulling your thing,
you're going to go blind, Richard!

But I like pulling on it, Mum!

Your son is rapidly loosing his sight.
And we don't know why, Ms. Dix.

Mum, meet my new girl friend.

Richard, you have to wear your glasses.

I have the outer most faith in you,
Marshal Dix, have a good flight.

Thank you Mr. Secretary,
but I think this must be broken.

I didn't have a lot of time.
I had to catch a plane to cape Kennedy,

then the shuttle to Vegan
and avoid any pressing delays.

The department was gonna to have to dive
in at the deep end,

because I was headed for the moon to maybe
save the President of the United States.

This should help beam me up.
I've got to get back to my ship.

Scotty, Bones, Mr. Spock,
where the hell are you?

Secretary Osgood was right when he told
me there were plenty of aliens on Vegan.

But he had forgotten
to tell me how butt ugly they were.

They were ugly from any direction.

The rules: Smuggling or assisting any Alien
back to Earth means immediate imprisonment.

Open your bag, please.
-Yo, is that Marshal Dix? It's ok.

He's police. Lieutenant Shitzu,
Vegan Security. Misswick. -Miss who?

Misswick. M. S. W. I. C.
Mother-Sucker-who's-in-charge.

Is this your bag?

I'm writing a book...
-Welcome to Vegan, Marshal Dix...

That's right isn't it?
Dix... as in more-than-one-dick?

Good to be someplace where your feet
will do what you tell them to do...

Attention! Sensors detected
an alien hiding in a human life-form.

Move down!

What's going on?
-That fool's a conversion.

Do you need holy water for that?
-When these brothers first came here,

we didn't know about their plan to use
conversions to take over the Earth.

Lucky for us, all our asses were saved,
due to the sounds of our modern life:

Arcade, TV, rap, hip-hop.
All that irritatin' shit.

High-pitch sound
makes these suckers explode.

Close the lid, babboom!

Good. Fangullo.

Mi scusi, mi dispiace.
I am capitain Valentino Di Pasquale.

I don't speak Alien.
-He ain't kickin' no jive-ass Alien lingo!

He jes' tryin' to show some love!
-What?

Mi dipacia, diabola. He try to speak-a
inna piccolo Ebonico. -Pickle what?

No disrespect, y'all up in this ice cream
and you don't even know the flavour!

You think he don't understand plain Inglish?

Please, my father was from Brooklolino...
-Yo man, did years in Vegas babe,

who can take the sun, yea.
Right back babe, yea.

That guy is right, Marshal,
this way, this way. Andiamo!

Our operation and research director,
Dr Pratt, will show you around.

The base commander couldn't be hear,
cuz' he's out playing golf.

Everything is alright!

Good, that means that nothing works.
-But he did ask me to escort you

to a reception here tonight.

Yeah, one stronzo alien less.

Dr Pratt?

Dr Pratt!

Yes, Lieutenant?
-Oh, you scared me again, you got me.

You keep on getting me each time,
I tell you. This is Marshal Dix.

Ah, yes, right on time.
I'll never understand these inspections.

What are we looking for this time?
-Routine...

Perhaps you may be interested
in my pi�ce de resistance.

Piece of what?
-A scale replica of the entire complex.

Here's the entrance to the mines...
the administration complex...

the spaceport... all the details...
Now... We are... here.

No, no, no, don't touch.
Its very delicate.

Doctor, the next time you're on Earth,
I'll show you

the Piper Club model I made.
-I'd certainly look forward to that.

Here's the report, Doctor Pratt.
-Thank you, gentlemen, my assistant,

Yetta Pussel.
-Gentlemen...

I took the liberty of requesting a copy
of the last routine inspection.

Now, all our research is carried out here.

Our study of silicon, for example.
Abundant on Earth, non-existent

on many other planets. For most Aliens
it's life supporting, like food to us.

Hence our ongoing conflict with them
and our tight security here.

Works real good on the old Johnson.
-Johnson... President Johnson?

There are no Presidents on Vegan.
I'm afraid we're being battered

by a mistaken sense of humor.
-Alright, my main man Marshal Dix.

Okay?
-Dr Uschi K�nstler,

Senior Base Science Officer.
-Doctor?

Yes. Of psychology,
parapsychology and solar proctology...

I also supervise genetic replication...

Clones.
-Are those clones?

No just plain old-fashioned rabbits.
But we've made major advances with sheep.

Molly for instance, was created only
yesterday, the exact age and likeness

of Dolly, her mother-in-law.
-Can you do that with human beings?

No, that is not allowed.
-It's strictly against international policy.

I should hope so.
It's against my policy, too.

I was in the Marines.
-Careful, that's the rapid-cloning switch.

You tamper with that,
and we'd be overrun

with all kinds of animals.
-The officer of Human Alien Affairs,

Miss Menage, will show you your quarters.
-I'm headed in that direction.

Maybe, the Marshal and I
can go down together and meet her.

I just met him. Yes, from what I can see,
he'll be absolutely fine...

Welcome to Vegan, Marshal Dix...
-I'm glad to be here.

Oh, the very person we wanted to see.
This is Marshal Dix.

Oh!

He is...

he is... here...

on a routine inspection.

Yes, I can see that...

Menage. Cassandra Menage.

The Marshal...

needs to be accommodated.
Marshal, you can...

let me down now.

Perhaps you can take care of his needs.

Does he have any needs left
to be taken care of?

Well, it was nice meeting you Marshal Dix.
-Thank you, me too.

Marshal, if you please.
I had checked into the room

I'd be sharing with Capitaine Di Pasquale.
Unpacked my stuff

and then sent Cassandra off to the library
to look for plans that might lead us

to the location of the cloning lab.
And now on with the dead crime-motive sketch

to the alien I had seen
on Osgood's recapture screen.

I was ready for a little lunar socializing
and snooping. Hey! What are you doing?

I'm your escort, I'm keeping tabs on you.
-Take your hand out of my pocket.

Keep tabs on somebody else.
-Hey champagne.

Apparently, some of these aliens
learned English by monitoring movies

on our tv transmission satellites.
They all sounded like Hollywood actors.

Even here everyone wants to be a star.
-I saw the Alien that was in the caves.

Yes, me too...

Two?
-Yea?

Ah, Marshal Dix, there you are.
-How do you do?

Commander Sir Cecil Humphrey Wickernuts.
My wife, Oona Hottenlocker-Wickernuts.

So you're from Washington.
I hope you'll put in a good word for us.

What's that?
-I found it on the floor.

Ah, it's Grop...
no, no, no it's Prong, yes... no...

You know what they say.
They all look alike.

We're throwing a party
tomorrow at the club. Do join us.

Miss Menage here will be singing, too.
-What a voice she has! True nightingale...

Thank you.
-Miss Menage,

enchant�. Excuse us, won't you.
There's something I'd like you to look at.

Excuse me.
-Of course.

So, Marshal Dix,
you gonna be my new roomate?

Molto bene, you see this is a good way

to know where your food has been first.

Excuse me.
-Please.

I thought you'd like to hear how your
Alien Courtesy Center's coming along.

It was your idea, you may remember.
Perhaps you'd like to come

and see my renderings.
-I'd be happy to...

All erections on Vegan are
rubber stamped by me, you know.

That must keep you busy...

Hey there, you ever done it monkey style.

Too bad, could have been a hairy ride.

Oh my God, my dress!

Do like, the music?

I love the sound of the flute.

Doctor Pratt, is this is yours...

Where did you get that?
-Fell on the floor.

Thank you...

Come this way.

Let's sit here shall we.
Miss Menage...

Waiter.

Excuse me.

I don't think these false
eyelashes become you.

Bon appetit.
-Merci.

Excuse me, Doctor Pratt, Captain Pasquale
is going to take me back to the apartment

in a few minutes, you can reach me there,
if you need me. Good night.

Good night, Dix.

Excuse me.
-Yeah.

Thanks. I thought I'd never get rid of him.
-Leave now, before he gets back.

Okay, I'll go. Thanks.

Miss Menage has gone back to her apartment.
She's got a headache.

Really, well, that's too bad.
-Oh, yes, real bad.

It is important in life to have two boxes.
One for food, and only one for fun.

As you can see, I am not only
a master of the buffet, I am a master...

of disguise. All kinds: look.

What?
-Oh, the final touch.

Now you don't gonna to believe your eyes.
Look my special magic maker.

You like it.
-Ah, very good. -I know.

Oh, sorry. Let me un-zip your face.

Oh, the telephone.

-Yes. -I'm at Pratt's. It's all clear.
-I got over there

faster than a speeding bullet,
if you know what I mean.

If any plans existed that could lead us to
the human cloning lab and the president,

I was sure this is were they would be.

My job was to get in get the plans

and get out as quickly
and as quietly as possible.

Cassandra, I'm in.
-Roger.

It's all clear down here.

Oh...

I saw lights flashing in your office.
And somebody was dancing the can-can.

Right. Let's have a look, shall we?

It's Pratt.
-I'm coming. I'm on my way.

What kind of man
would do something like that?

I know exactly what kind, Doctor K�nstler.

And I promise you,
he going to pay dearly for this...

very dearly.

Who is it?
-This is Dr Pratt.

I want a few words with you, Marshal.
-Yes.

I don't have all day, Dix.
Just open the door, will you?

I'll be a moment, Doctor Pratt.

Open the door!
-Just putting on my trousers,

just putting on my trousers.

Ah, just cleaning yourself up,
are you Marshal?

You are shaving, aren't you?
-Yes, I shave my whole face.

My wiskars grow pretty fast. I start
very early when have important function

to attend to, like the one this evening.
Come in, come in.

Oh, good to see you.
-Let go of my hand Dix!

What are you doing? You fool, let go of me.
What are you doing to me?

Look at me. What are you doing.
Dix you imbicile, stop it!

There is something I want you to know...
I know who you are

and I know why you're here...
But you will never going to find him!

The man behind the whole thing is
Dr Griffen Pratt. He has told me

he got the President prisoner,
even challenged me to go find him.

He's as guilty as jam lips
kissing a fruit tart. -Pratt.

We have to be very careful.
-Yea.

I'm going to change now.
See you later.

I think I'll skip this one.

You and Shitzu, keep an eye on Dr Pratt.
-Ok.

Please, Marshal Dix wants us to keep
an eye on Dr Pratt. Capito! Micione.

Pratt? Why doctor Pratt.
-I don't know.

But I do know what I better do right now.

Excuse me. Oh, what a line.

Your Majesties and Humble Beings.
Let's hear a warm Vegan welcome

for our star attraction:
Miss Cassandra Menage!

I didn't think anyone
could take my mind off of Pratt,

but suddenly there she was:
On stage,

a woman who could take
anyone's mind off of anything.

She had deep nurturing instincts and
strong family things that make her

an ideal mother for an child.
Cassandra was a nightingale.

The old saying,
wet birds never fly at night,

I think she could fly anytime
she wanted to.

There he was, Dr Griffin Pratt.
A man who could ruin

anyone's wet dream.
Suave, cool with all the moves

of a slick ballroom dancer.

It was time for Dr Pratt
to find out that he'd met his match,

his intellectual equal.
I was about to arrange that introduction.

Doctor Pratt... you said to me,
I know why you're here

and I know what you want. We'll there's
something I want you to know, so do I.

So do I?
-Yes, know why I'm here, know what I want.

We stand here facing each other
like Chief Ten Bears and Josey Wales.

Chief Ten Bears?
-He would say, There is iron in your words

that you know, as there is iron in my words
that I know. As there's iron in the words

that your living that you don't know it.
Turn back to Ten Bears before it's too late.

Chief Ten...?
-Ten Bears.

And the other one? -Josey Wales.
Who is he?

Clint Eastwood.
-Clint Eastwood...

you are a very convincing thinker, Marshal.
Let me get back to you. On this one.

Out of order, it's thirty minutes
I've been waiting here.

You man stand clear, stand clear.
-What is it? Another Alien Conversion?

Close enough...

What's the celebration about?
-You'd be giggy too, bro,

if you only dumped once a year.
-Where's Pasquale.

I hate aliens.

Why do they have eat fama beans, fangulo?

Okay fellas, now come on,
you've been over-served here.

Marshal, Marshal.
-Yes.

I have to speak to you.
-Is this some kind of performance?

He's a cyborg, it happens all the time,
I'll to put him back together tomorrow,

he's going to be just fine.
Come on, I need to talk to you.

Make yourself at home.
I'm gonna be right back.

Hello.

Something's going on.

I don't know who's behind it.
I don't know what they're doing,

or why they're doing it.
All I know is, I know,

I want you to know.

Well, I'm glad you told me.
-Marshal, I know exactly why you're here.

I can help you,

but therefore you have to trust me.

Did you know that a male lion

can mate forty-five times in three hours?

I don't have a lion.
I don't even have a dog.

One of the advantages of working undercover,
was that sometimes things got uncovered

that you didn't expect to get uncovered,
and you learned about things

that you didn't expect to learn about.
Whatever Dr Kunstler was trying to hide,

she sure wasn't doing a very good job.
-Anything you mind, Dick?

No, I'm not even thinking.

Doctor K�nstler! Get a grip!

That does it, it's time you went home.
-I am at home.

It's time I went home.
-Stay...

Don't you want to find out the rest?
-No, the stuff about the lion,

that was good enough for me.

There you are! At last you come!

My God, is that all you people
do up here in the evenings?

It is good for the lip, Marshal,
a nice, sweet, warm decaf,

non-fat latte,
a touch of mocha, no foam.

Do you want some?
-No, thank you.

I came by to see how Valentino was doing
after that dreadful thing at the club.

Pretty bad, huh?
-I also told him

about the President being a prisoner.
We need all the assistance we can get.

Yeah, but...
-The elephant is sitting on my lips.

I say nothing to Lieutenant Shitzu.
-I saw you leave the club with Dr K�nstler.

What happened?
-Oh... nothing!

Strange young lady.
Another wild goose chase.

I don't know about the wild goose, but the
chase looks like it was very exciting.

No, it is a little cold in here,
I think I'll have some of that hot coffee.

My God! Someones' stolen my zipper!

I thought I said no contact.
-I know sir.

But I am now convinced the President
is here and is being held prisoner.

The man behind it is Doctor Griffin Pratt.
-Are you sure? -I'm positive.

Send in the Galactic National Guard.
-Who is it?

No! That would sign
the President's death warrant.

You must handle this with Miss Menage.
Confront Pratt, threaten him, anything.

But work fast. The President's life
is at stake, to say nothing of our planet.

What this impostor will say at conference
in Paris on Friday, God only knows.

Momento. Don't you think for a minute
that Marshal Dix is doing nothing up here.

He's dealing with one of the most important
man of the American government.

This guy, lives in a big white house,
but I can't tell you who is him.

Cassandra?

Cassandra?

Wait a minute, you mean the President
is a prisoner here on Vegan?

How did you know?
-You just told us, man.

-Ah, fangulu, I did not. -Yes you did!
-I did? -Yes.

Doctor Griffin Pratt.
-I hope you don't think there's anything

you've missed the other night, Marshal.
-Just one thing, you, you're under arrest,

you have the right to remain silent...
-Before you say another word,

there's something I want you to know.
I was ordered to reconstitute the President.

Reconstitute? What does that mean?
-First...

drain all his body fluids...
-What's that? Some sort of enema?

No, no, no, drain all his blood.
Then reconstitute it into refined plasma,

ready to activate, the clone.
-Well... wouldn't that kill him?

Most certainly. -I thought so.
The thought of killing the President

has kept me up all night.
Well, to be perfectly honest,

I may have dozen off,
so at least half the night.

I don't know how I let this happen.
I feel like I was drugged or brain-washed

or whatever they did to me.
But your words about Chief Ten Bears

and Josey Eastwood... -Clint Eastwood.
Eastwood...

brought me to my senses
and I must undo the damage I've done!

I want to take you to the President and
help you get him out of here. But fast.

Faster than you think.
I just came from Cassandra's apartment.

She's been kidnapped.
-Kidnapped? Abducted?

Up till now it's a simple kidnapping.
She left a note on her door in glue.

See it says Help,
spelled backwards, H.E.L.P.

We'd better get moving. There may be
two lives we have to save.

This is the easiest way
to get to the President.

But don't touch that button.

Follow me...

Put this on, you'll be less conspicuous.

Mr. Dix, meet the President.

Mr. President, is that really you?

That depends on what you mean by is.

... are that really you?
-Of course it's me.

I keep telling these people
about my birthmark. Here, take a look.

I'm the only man with a birthmark like that.
Almost a perfect four-leaf clover.

It does look like a four-leaf clover.
-If that isn't sufficient,

then give me the name of someone
who plays the sax as good as this.

Mr. President, I'm convinced.
My name is Marshal Dix,

International Security Force.
I'm here to take you back to Washington

where you belong.
-Great. Yea.

Cassandra!

When did you get here?

Surely, you didn't think it was going
to be as easy as all that, did you, Dix?

Now, do you wish to become
a Rodman or a Rodham?

I see the President is getting upset.
Perhaps we should switch him

with Cassandra.
-Alright, that's he does it!

You're under arrest!
And so are these bozos, here.

You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say will be written down...

Seize them!

Such grace... Such property...

What a cunning stunt.

Any move and I'll ripe your faces off.

I was a sucker for that romantic talk.
This young woman

could not only sing like a dove,
she was blessed with a serene peace

that would have been at home
in a Tibetan monastery.

She had everything:
the delicate footwork of a ballet dancer,

the high-kicks of a Rockette.
Boy, did I love those high-kicks.

Very impressive. But now as they say,
it's your turn to bite the dust.

I'm glad you were here.
I feel safe with you.

Let's not talk about me. We gotta
get out of here. Follow her, Mr. President.

Captain Pasquale. See if you can locate
Lieutenant Shitzu and doctor Kunstler.

Meet us in front of the research center.
We're heading for Washington D.C.

and the White House
and bring your make-up case.

Who was this guy?
-Come on, all of you, Rupert up again,

come on Kubrick, pull yourself together,
up, that's it, good boys, good boys.

No, no, wait, let them go.

Di pasquale worked hard and fast
to disguise the President as Fidel Castro,

or ZZ Top, take your pick.
Anyway, it was the perfect way

to get to Washington.
-It's me, it's me.

Oh sorry. Step back. Please.
-I wonder if ZZ Top needs a sax player?

It was good to see Washington D.C. again,
but this was no time to sightsee.

In couple of days, that clone-clown
would be shooting his mouth off in Paris.

I'd contracted Secretary Osgood.
He came up with a water tight plan

to make the switch.
-Okay guys, time for me

to shake hands with little willie.

Marshal, did you bring an umbrella?
-No, just grab him before he takes aim.

Di Pasquale disguised the President
that nobody would think twice about.

A dirty old man.

Yes.

At the Three Tenors Gala Concert
in Paris this Friday night,

following the
International Heads of State Conference,

I will announce changes that will benefit

the future of our world forever.
-Good job. Well done, everyone.

Now all that remains is to get
our friend off to clone heaven.

We kept Earth to ourselves for far too long.
-What?

Hey, that's Doctor Pratt?
-Yea, yea, it's-a him!

We must be willing to reach out...

Please, there are forces at work here,
let's just forget about it and move on.

Now if someone will give me a hand
getting our imposter out of here...

Wait. This is moving a little too fast.
I think there are forces at work.

But I think that they're our own.
More than possible,

that we've been set up
to put clone in the White House...

And take the real President out.
-Right.

Why are you the President?
-Because of the birthmark!

When you're cloned,
your birthmark is cloned, too.

But I don't have a birthmark!
I had it removed three months ago.

Personal reasons. If you'll give me
a little help, I'll show you.

Oh, my God!
-Doctor K�nstler,

the birthmark should be on the side!
-You see where there used to be something,

but now there is no birthmark there now.
-There is a simple solution.

One dead president.
-So it's not just Doctor Pratt,

it's you, too.
-Very good, Dix.

Now that really is a job well done.
-Not well enough done, Mr. President.

Do you have anyone you can trust
who can get us to Paris? -Yes.

The President's plan was genuine
but his travel plans didn't fly.

Then suddenly our luck turned full circle
and we were airborn.

The job was to undo what I had
already undone. There was the president,

and he had a birthmark
on his left hip to prove it.

We had the real president

but he had removed the birthmark,
so we couldn't prove anything.

How it would be all worked out,
I didn't know, but I did know

that the President had to make
every effort to keep his pants on.

Thank you very much.
Thank you, thank you.

Bonjour, bonjour.

C, what is a four letter word for word?

Do you have reservation.
-I have reservations about being asked

about if we have reservations.
In America they have Indians,

they have reservations,
but no one asks if they have them.

What is that?
-That is a hockey cup.

Yea, we use it to play
sand hockey in the desert...

Do you have identification.
-Well, yea...

Ah, prince yaboty of Jabooty,
good to see you son,

take this, it's me Shitzu...

Good to see you. Oh my god.

Doctor Pratt wouldn't look under this.
-You look too conspicuous.

Me, how about you?
That arab accent sounds kind of German.

Ah, really, it is a rat trap...

Do you have an invitation?
-Yes, of coarse.

The artist formerly known as...

It is Prince, in disguise.
Excuse me Mr. Formally known as,

smile please.
Wait, you're not the artist

formely known as Prince.
The real artist is over here.

My God, it's the Pope. Come on Dix,
let's get out of here before he corners us.

They serve Italian dinner tonight.

I think I'll have the Toreodor.

Yabooty, yabooty, you camel,
pay me what you owe me.

Keep a low profile.
Did he call me a camel.

They wanted you to play a saxophone solo
after which intermission?

The White House itinerary said after
the first intermission that I would

appear magically on stage through a
trap-door. But we don't have a sax.

We will.
-Hey hello,

do you want to taste an ice-cream,
it's very, very good. Here, take it.

Or maybe you like vanillia,
vanillia is wonderful,

the best Italien ice flavor. Pistachio,
bonissimo. You like ice cream.

No.
-No, thank you very much.

Gelati, gelati, gelati!

Mon sax. Voleur.

Ice cream, gelat�, italiana, chocolato,
vanillia, gorgonzola...

Oh signore, congratulations.
This is a great ice cream, it....

Sir, you will have to move!
-Please. Let it go.

Shit!

I'm sorry Ms. President, I'm really sorry.
-No, no, it was only an accident.

You see, it was only an accident.
-Okay, we got this, go back to work.

Thanks for stopping by.
-I see our friends are here.

Do you want an ice cream.
-I think we'd better alert the police.

I think I better go check to find out
what's going on.

The gang's all here.

Oh, ice cream.

One is disguised as an ice cream vendor,
the other as a French police officer.

What, merde!
-Inspector Wazoo,

the President's life may be at stake.

We will search zi place from top to bottom.
Allons! Vite! Allons! Casse-toi!

We knew where they were at the hotel
in Washington, didn't we, Osgood?

You had to be there. You were busy
being the man in the moon. I was there.

They only can make the switch under
the stage at the trap-door lifts.

Let's take a look, shall we?
-Let's go get your saxophone

and check backstage.
-What did the Japanese delegation say?

Oh, you can't understand a word they say.
They said, would I enjoy sushi.

Well I said sure thing man,
send Suzi to my room.

Oh, I'm just kidding,
you could trust me baby.

Hey, this is no a rap concert.
I hate Opera.

Take this.
-Ditch the Arab disguises.

They're checking everyone.

Maybe there'll be some costumes
under the stage?

Are you okay?

Where are we?
-Under the stage. Do you think, the roof?

There must be something in here,

now you stay in that outfit,
so keep your face covered.

There must be something here for me.
So we won't look so much like a team.

That a good idea, Dix.

It's mostly woman's clothes in here.

Allo?

Allo?
-Oui, oui, oui... allo!

That's what I call a really
nice prop there Maestro.

Maestro, is it that you?
-Yea, yea, it's the Maestro?

Oh, I heard zis crash! Are you alright?

It was an accident.
I'm a-changing my robes,

as Pharaoh to the robe I use
for singing for farrow in the Aida.

Oh... pardon.

Oh la l�!

I told you they were not right.

You know this is probably zee wrong time.
But could you just

sing une petit note, a little note per...

Si, si.

Molto grande, molto grande,
molto grande, Clementine.

you gone and I lost forever,
molto grande, clementine.

Merci, I'm sorry, these are for yours.
-No, no, you keep them, as a memento,

they are not the right condom
for my beard.

Merci, I will cherish these.
-Arrividerci.

Merci.
-Pronto di salami. -Chow.

Pasta di fasa-ota.

What is this?
-The platform. Up and down, up and down.

What the hell is this?

Pardon, pardon. You 'ave piss?
-Well, I had one three hours ago.

Does that count?
-Show me your piss.

What?
-You need a big-stodge piss.

Backstage... Okay...

I think he said backstage pass...

Don't touch the control panel.

Zis is where everything is controlled.

No one will get pissed while I am here.

Fix the controls.

If it looks like
they're going to succeed,

kill the President...
the real one that is.

I want them found and seized.
-There is no one...

Ah, shut up you fool!
I got and a rest now

and then changing my costumes
for the second act. When I come back,

you had better have caught them
or else... schnip, clip, swish.

Capice?

You know the story about the women
in the doctors office. She says, I'm sick.

He says, well here, let me take
your temperature through your rectum.

What is a going on here.
I am an outrage.

Oh Maestro,
oh I have to thank you again for this.

You see I have kept it close to my heart.
-What are you talking about,

I didn't give you anything.
Besides my condoms are engraved

with my portrait and covered with fur.
These are counterfeit!

Now out of my way!
-Oh, counterfeit, Maestro.

Doctor Kunstler is one of them.
She's a superspy.

I told you she was a supp... suppository.

I knew she was in bed with Pratt.
-What? And she had me in her apartment.

She danced for me, rubbed her body
all over mine. Used her tongue.

The slut, a lap dance.
-Could have been... Lappland, Finland...

Then she told me about the lion.
They mate forty-five times in three hours.

How many times?
-You just keep your eyes on Kunstler.

She has order to kill the President.

She gets up on the tables.
He gets behind her.

Wardrobe! Wardrobe! Where is my costume?

I know it was here. I hung it myself.
-And I'll hang you myself,

if you don't find it.
-Luciano! They came to hear you sing,

not see your clothes.
-You think the French won't notice

if I'm on an Italian battlefield fighting
the Germans wearing American boxer shorts?

''Hey doctor, that's not my rectum.''
''Yea, that's ain't my thermometer either.''

Mr. President, we're ready for you now:

Well, I'm on.
-Good luck snookums.

no more birthmark games tonight,
just remember, you don't have one anymore,

but there's a clone and he does have it.
So you just keep your pants on tonight

and keep your fingers crossed that Osgood
won't remember what he thought

he saw in the hotel, thought he didn't
see what he thought he saw

in the hotel, I was right the first time.

First the condoms, now my costume.
And you still haven't found them.

Your robe.
-Sure. Skuzi.

Or rather, that he doesn't know
what he thought didn't see in the hotel.

he didn't see the birthmark and...

Monsieur le President.
Everything is chicked and ready.

blow your instrument with cuntfidence,
knowing that I am holding the fart.

Thank you, thank you, and now,
Ladies and Gentlemen,

it gives me great pleasure
to introduce our surprise guest.

So far so good.
-Don't be a pessimist.

I like the way he blows his horn
-My son like to tute too.

Let's go!

You alright?

Here, catch the saxophone.

So, now?
-I'll lower the trap door.

You get on it, go up and I'll bring
the clone down and put the arm on him.

What?

You messed up things for the last time.

Yes!

�a va merde!

'oo is 'oo?

We have here, two President.

Two of them, my gosh,
this could be an interns nightmare.

Two, identicule.

Identical, yes...
But are our memories the same?

Here's something I composed when
I was six years old. No one knows it.

So, now who is the real President?

Okay... How about this one?
I learned it yesterday.

Not so good, huh! There's your clone.
He remember everything about my life,

Until the time he was cloned
and nothing after that.

Right, there's your clone, Dr Pratt.
-You're the one who did this to me.

I'm going to destroy you. You hear me.

What...
-Lord, give me a sign.

You've got mail.

God says, let there be music,
on with the show.

So much for taking over the world!
-I just wanted to rid the world of idiots.

Look out!

Oh that's going to leave a mark.

The solution is, kill the President.

Holy shit baby.

Hasta Lavista baby.

Ladies and Gentlemen, This may have been
the greatest save of all time...

and the man responsible for this,

is from Interplanetary Security:
Marshal 'Dick' Dix.

Thank you, Mr. President.
-You're very welcome Marshal Dix

and the world thanks you.

Now I knew what it was like
to be a roman candle on the 4th of July.

But this hero stuff was not for me.
I was ready to get back on the beat,

hear the wail of sirens and my gun
and play with my handcuff

Yes, I was ready to plant my flag
back in Washington D.C.

where every congressmen has the
constitutional right to be a felon.

Good old America.

Here's your soup Sir.

Mmm, smells great.

Well, I want to drink a toast.

I want to drink a toast to you.

No to you. You've made the world
a safe place again.

Well your high kicks, help out
pretty good there, too, you know.

How are things on Vegan?
I hear you've gotten a promotion.

Yes, I'm responsible
for all new erections.

Congratulations,
I'm not a bit surprised.

I love spending my vacations here on earth.
This place is so peaceful...

the ocean... the music...
The product placements...

Are you alright?

Just picking my teeth.

There's something I need to tell you.
I see dead people.

What?
-I see dead people. Look.

David Bowie.

Our dessert specials today are silicon
hooter pie with whipped cream, for you.

We have silicon-lips ice cream, for you.
-And we've got guns,

big guns, for you.

Guns, big guns, those aren't guns...

This is a gun.

Oh, Marshal, you've made the world
a safe place again, again.

Your so wonderful,
you know you could be my father.

Oh, no, no. That concert was the
first time I was in France, ever.

Oh, Richard.

Subtitles: VICOMEDIA 11/2002