All language subtitles for 08.Tales from the Darkside S03E08 DVDRip x264

(theme music playing)

NARRATOR:
Man lives in the sunlit world

of what he believes
to be reality.

But... there is,

unseen by most, an underworld.

A place that is just as real

but not as brightly lit.

A dark side.

�

(doorbell rings)

Welcome to the Cantrell home,
Mr. Tabbitt,

where we hope to be the home of
the future mayor of Huntsville.

We want you to make yourself
right at home.

Honey, our guest of honor
has arrived.

Mr. Tabbitt!

I hope you're going to manage
my mayoral campaign.

You don't have
any cats?

Why, no,
no cats at all.

Does a mayor need cats?

I'm allergic to cats.

Oh, we have no pets.

We believe four-legged animals
are happier

on farms and in trees.

Julian,

perhaps Mr. Tabbitt is
craving a thirst quencher.

Ah.

This way, Tabbitt.

WOMAN:
Mr. Tabbitt,

you'll have to excuse us.

It's Thursday night and,
as you know,

help doesn't come in
on Thursdays.

Yeah. Uh, whiskey?

(sneezes)

Are you wearing wool?

Oh, uh, Valeria,
honey, is this wool?

Might be, sugar.

I'm allergic to wool.

(sneezes)

Oh, uh, well, then, uh,

you and I won't get
too huggy and kissy.

(chuckles)
How's that, huh?

(giggles)

Mr. Tabbitt, we are so sure
that Julian will be

the most outstanding mayor
that Huntsville has ever known.

I hear that no one can
get elected in this town

without your help.

Uh...

You look pretty,
baby shucks.

I look like a turtle.

Mr. Tabbitt, this is our
lovely turtle, Charlotte Rose.

Gentlemen, shall we?

Ah. Ah...

It's families
that win elections

in this town,
Mr. Cantrell.

A fine, upstanding,
normal family

is what people
like to see.

Gets 'em

where they eat.

Well, my family is as wholesome
as a whole loaf of white bread.

Isn't that right,
Valeria?

TABBITT: What about
you, little missy?

What will the voting
populace of Huntsville

want to know about you?

I love America.

Of course you do, darling.

A-And I really want to be

a baton twirler
for the Dallas Cowboys,

as soon as I get a figure
worthy of national television.

I been practicing, Daddy.

Oh.

� O beautiful

� For spacious skies

� For amber waves of...

Charlotte!

Wasn't I good?

Baton twirling has not been
known to inspire votes.

Charlotte, honey,
you were just lovely.

Now, sit down.

Exhibitionism is really
not in good taste, honey.

We must leave that--

we must leave that
to the daughters of men

who do not aspire
to be mayor of Huntsville.

(ethereal music plays)

The true talent of women of
our social standing is to blend

into the background
of life,

and support those
who were born to be

our leaders.

(ethereal music fades)

How did you do that,
Miz Cantrell?

What?

You positively glowed.

Why, thank you, sir.

Was that your wife

or was that
some special lightbulb?

(ethereal choir singing)

Uh...
Is there something

terribly wrong with your
poached salmon, Mr. Tabbitt?

I'm allergic to fish.

Do I hear music?

VALERIA:
How thoughtless of me.

I should have consulted you
before planning my menu.

Only thing I'm not allergic to
is fried chicken.

Well, I wish I had fried chicken
for you right now.

(shrieks)

Is that fried chicken
on your plate, Mr. Tabbitt?

Don't it look
like fried chicken?

It looks
like fried chicken to me!

And you, Miz Cantrell, were
lit up like a Christmas tree.

This is
not normal.

This is not a normal
family, Mr. Cantrell,

and I don't like it.

I don't like chicken coming
down from the ceiling.

I just don't like--
goo... good-bye!

JULIAN:
Tabbitt...

Mr. Tabbitt,
please don't go.

What about
my husband's campaign?

Mama, what's
wrong with you?

What in the devil
is going on, Valeria?

What is everybody
so all-fired excited about?

I wish a big chocolate cake

would fall
out of the ceiling right now,

and ice cream,

and a pair
of aqua stretch pants.

We will not discuss
last night, Charlotte,

and please, darling, be
careful with that makeup.

(phone rings)

Cantrells'.
Valeria speaking.

(indistinct talking over phone)
Hello, Mother.
How's the sniffles?

What?

Oh, my, you have
a little headache?

Well, would you like
me to call the doctor?

I'll be over directly.

You put your eyeshades
on and rest.

All right?

Bye-bye.

Mary Anne Whipple's mother
wears aqua stretch pants

and an orange satin blouse
that shows her cleavage.

Everyone has their own
path to walk on, honey,

and God gives people

questionable taste
in clothing sometimes

as a penance for buying
polyester in a previous life.

We Cantrells
do not judge.

Mary Anne says her mother
has three boyfriends.

They sleep over
sometimes,

in the same bedroom
as her mother.

There's only one bed
in that room.

Don't be a
tattletale.

Ruby Whipple has a right
to a private life,

and if I spoke to her,

I would caution her to keep
it as private as possible.

You'd never talk
to Mrs. Whipple,

but you'd let me be friends
with Mary Anne.

Mary Anne needs
you as a friend.

Ruby Whipple has enough friends.

Charlotte, what
are you doing?

Charlotte.

It's a project at school--
art class.

Egyptian-- we're supposed
to look like Cleopatra.

Yeah, uh, i-it's a contest,
and I just have to win.

I've never won
a contest.

Why don't you help me?

Don't you wish
I'd win?!

Mother...

Mother, I don't want to wear
these stupid clothes!

Make them go away!

Darling, I would
if I could!

Mother, I'm scared!

Darling, take a deep breath.

Now, hold Mama's hands.
(screams)

You're scaring me!

Make them go away!
Valeria.

Uh, Charlotte was just
telling me about a contest.

I was lying!

I just wanted to wear makeup!

(sobbing):
I was lying.

Please, Mother, make it stop!

Daddy.

(gasps)

You are traumatizing
the child.

Now, you said this was never
going to happen again.

I'm sorry, Julian, I, I...

I just don't know
how to explain it!

Well, you better find
someone who can.

(sobs)

MAN: Your daughter turned into
Cleopatra before your eyes,

a bucket of chicken came
down from the ceiling,

and your husband says
you glow like a firefly.

Um, are you a member
of this parish, Mrs. Cantrell?

Well, actually, no,

but I, I didn't think it was
a Methodist kind of problem.

Have you seen a... doctor?

I thought that a priest,

with a certain experience
in unearthly visitations,

might be able to help me.

Well, I-I just got out of
the seminary, Mrs. Cantrell.

Let me check
my book here.

Um, uh...

Uh, filed under "psycho"-- no.

Hmm, maybe "wacko."

(ethereal choir singing)

Good gadooshky.

Now you can see how difficult
it is to plan social functions.

Mother was right.

I should have been
a truck driver.

(sighs)

(chuckles)

Uh, okay, all right.

Um...

Mrs. Cantrell, let me
ask you a question.

Look me straight in the eye
as you answer.

Have you always been
a devout woman?

Never.

Never.

You never prayed?

Father...

I believe God respects
my ability

to run my house on earth,

and I respect God's ability
to run celestial matters.

(celestial choir singing)

Good gadooshky.

You, Mrs. Cantrell, are a saint.

St. Mrs. Cantrell.

If this is being a saint,
I... I don't want to be one.

You've stopped
glowing.

For the moment.

It comes and goes
without any warning.

God works in mysterious ways.

I'm ruining
my family's life!

I can't be a saint.

How can I be un-sainted?

(scoffs)
You're not serious.

What's the worst sin
a person can commit?

Mrs. Cantrell,
you wouldn't!

No, you've got to
help me, Father.

What is the worst sin?
I'm a priest.

I can't tell you
how to sin!

All right, then.

I'll figure it out myself.

Mrs. Cantrell,

what are you gonna do?

The Devil's work, I suppose.

What other choice do I have?

(chorus singing
jubilant heavenly melody)

(sighs)

Mother, do you have
to do this?

Well, doesn't it make
sense, honey,

that sainthood is something you
get from not sinning enough?

I suppose so.

Then I'll just have
to keep sinning

until I'm too wicked
to be a saint.

Who's this?

That's Buddha, baby.

Not a very attractive god,
but very calm.

I hate this.

Well, unless you want
a 60-watt lightbulb

for a mother
for the rest of your life,

I could use your support.

In the name of Buddha,

and Quan Yin,

and Rama-dama-ding-dong...

I pray to Bruce

every night
before I go to sleep.

But it might help if-if
you prayed to him, too.

Thank you, sweetheart.

I wish this
wasn't happening.

I know it is
very hard on you.

Oh, I love you, Mother.

Don't be a saint
too long.

I won't.

Goddamn it!

Valeria!

You swore!

I did!

I'll never
be mayor.

(phone rings)

Cantrells'.
Valeria speaking.

Mother, I am sick
and tired of you,

and your hypochondria,

and your calling me
every other minute!

Now, why don't you just
call information

and tell them about your crummy
little colds and your headaches.

The number is 411!

Oh!

Okay.

(clears throat)
Very well done,
my dear.

Uh, I'll check in
on her...

on the way to church.

Come on, peach fuzz.

Straighten up, Charlotte!

You look like hunchback.

Fine, Mama.

Be as mean
as you have to be.

And if you two dare
say a prayer for me

in that temple of deception,

I will personally starch
all your underwear!

O God, what will it take
for you to forsake me?

(harp glissando)

(heavenly chorus singing)

Ugh.

VALERIA:
20 dead and counting.

Well, nobody said
I had to do 'em in order.

How about some lemonade
and ginger snaps?

That's my T-shirt.

No, it's not, it's mine.

It is not.

That's my favorite T-shirt!

Mine now.

It's mine!

You can't steal my T-shirt!

It's my T-shirt.

Girls.

You're lying, Mother.

You're telling a big fat lie!

That's right.

(screams)

I hate you!

Just because you're a saint,
you think you can do anything?!

I hate you!

(sobs)
Aah!

Valeria, honey,

how about we go take
a long sleepless nap?

I'm much too busy
sinning, Julian!

Please!

I want a bigger swimming
pool, like the Joneses'.

I want a new fur coat,
like Harriet Sparks'.

I want a five-foot
video screen,

and I want
a new Cadillac!

And I always wanted to go
to bed with Robert Redford!

(heavenly chorus
singing jubilantly)

Oh, well, this is
great, Valeria.

Now we got the whole Holy
Roller chorus blasting us.

I'm doing the best
I can, Julian.

Well, what the hell
is coming next?

I only have
one sin left!

CHORUS:
� Hallelujah!

(chorus vocalizing brightly
over pipe organ accompaniment)

Hi, there,
you big sexy thing.

St. Mrs. Cantrell?

I bet every single hair
on your head is so happy

to be connected to such
a va-va-va-room face.

Uh, no, they fall out when
I'm nervous, actually, and--

No need to be nervous.

Good gadooshky!

(gasps)

Uh, Saint...

uh, Miss, Miss, Mrs. Ca...

Can... trell.

I'm a priest

and you're a saint,
and I don't think

you should be doing
what you're doing.

Help me to sin, Father.

I am so unhappy.

(screams)

Adultery with a man
of the cloth.

Surely, God would
un-saint me for that.

(gasps)

Not to mention what
he'd do to me.

No!

Why me, Lord?!

Why me?!

WOMAN: I was surprised
to get your phone call,

till you told me what
your problem was.

Oh...

nice decorating.

(dull tapping)

I like cheap plastic, myself.

I already figured out
your problem, honey.

You ain't been sinning
worth diddly-squat.

I've broken
every Commandment.

I haven't murdered
a person yet,

but there's old Mr. Hubbard,
whose plug I can pull.

He's been in a coma
for 12 years.

Murder ain't the worst
of it, honey.

Ah.

Don't bother, I'll
get it myself.

I find sinning so tedious,

tiresome, boring!

There ain't nothing better
than living on the edge of bad.

You just don't know
how to do it.

You can't say
I haven't sinned.

That's nonsense.

Nonsense, my rosy butt.

You tell me why you
been racing around

like a chicken
with its head cut off--

lying and stealing
and cussing

(laughing):
and seducing priests.

Not to mention
bowing to Buddha

and Bruce Springsteen.

You tell me why you don't
want to be a saint.

Because Julian wants to be mayor

and Charlotte wants
a normal mother.

And they're entitled to that.

I don't want to disappoint them.

That's your problem.

You've been sinning for the sake
of those you love, honey.

That don't count.

What?!

You want ol' Ruby to tell you
what the worst sin is?

I would be ever so grateful.

Pride.

That's the worst sin, honey.

Pride.

Now, tell me the truth,

ain't you just
a little bit pumped up

because numero uno up there
thinks you're the

cat's meow?

Yes, I am rather flattered.

Sure you are!

Now, let's start
taking advantage of it.

JULIAN:
Tarnation!

Valeria, honey,
where are you?

(laughs):
She's really flipped.

Hi, there.
You here to see the saint?

I, uh, happen to be
the saint's husband!

Who are you?
We'll get to know
each other later, big guy.

I'm busy now.

Are you ready,
Your Sainthood?

I'll put the sign out on
the front lawn, okay, Saint?

I want to die.

Valeria, I have
to put my foot down!

Julian, who are you
to tell a saint what to do?

(heavenly music plays)
RUBY:
Right!

You should be dusting
her wings, big guy.

If you wanted her to be excited
about living with a mayor,

how about you
showing some excitement

about living with a saint?

Right, Saintie?

VALERIA: God did
choose me, Julian.

He didn't choose you.

All set, now.

You just keep glowing,
Your Glowness,

and we'll make
us a fortune.

(doorbell chiming)

Don't you do it, Valeria.

Don't try and stop me, Julian.

CHARLOTTE:
Mama, please?

No more of your
"Mama, please," young lady.

I believe I have
a more important mission in life

than to listen to your weeny
whinings about being a mayor,

and your twirling
a baton.

I should be healing
the truly oppressed,

walking across the waters
for the world to see.

So you take your petty problems,

and you go stick your heads
in the toilet.

Well, you don't...

really mean that,
sugar plumps, do you?

CHARLOTTE:
You're just being mean,
'cause you don't want

to be a saint anymore,
right, Mama?

I am a saint.

(heavenly music fades)

My, my, my.

VALERIA: Why is it
so quiet in here?

I've lost my halo of light.

I can't not be a saint now;
I was gonna save the world.

Ruby, what's happening?

Well, what you
always wanted, honey--

your glow is gone.

And this time for good!

(heavenly music playing)

Oh, my.

Ruby...

you are glowing.

(laughs):
You're beautiful!

Holy shmoly!

Nobody told me doing good deeds
was gonna light me up.

My customers
ain't gonna like this at all!

(laughing)

(Ruby continues laughing)

RUBY: Ooh!

(Ruby laughing)

NARRATOR:
The dark side is always there.

Waiting for us to enter.

Waiting to enter us.

Until next time, try
to enjoy the daylight.