All language subtitles for Urban.Myths.S02E03_English

(HEAVY ROCK BLARES OUT)

(MUSIC STOPS)

Why are you walking towards me,
Mike?

No. It's like you're trying to fold
it with a TV in it.

You're such a clown. Mike, stand
still.

-Have you been looting?
-If we'd been
looting, why would it be in a
blanket?

Fingerprints.

It came through the window.
I know how looting works.

It came through THAT window.

(CRASHING FROM INSIDE)
Room 211.

Johnny Cash's room.
Exactly.

But it's rock musicians who throw
tellies out of hotel windows.

That's how they maintain they're
fabulously muscular abdomens.

Johnny Cash is country and western.
More of a thinker.

Songs about unsuccessful marriages
and late night rail travel.

He's been on the rampage. There were
sounds of an argument,

bad language and now,
he's barricaded himself in his room.

Barricaded?
Well, he's put the chain on.

JOHNNY: Aarrghhhhh!

-That's the trouser press.
-Did he not
get my welcoming card

saying he should come to me
with any concerns?

I included my extension number.

JOHNNY: NO!
Oooh!

Shortbread fingers. You got lucky
this time.

JOHNNY: Not again!

Should we call the police?
Definitely not.

The Evening Post will have us
for breakfast.

Cash, Bang, Wallop! That's the
headline I'd anticipate.

No. Anything short of manslaughter
we deal with in-house.

Mine!

Best get yourselves out of here.

Her days are numbered.

I think you'll find all days
are numbered.

Take a calendar for example.
Each month... Please stop.

I'm talking about our so-called
manageress.

Eight weeks into a 12-week trial
and she's got a major incident

with an overseas celebrity?
She's finished.

Oh, I think her plan is keep it all
hush-hush.

Well, you know what they say...
the best laid plans of mice and men.

I doubt there's much crossover.
Eh?

Plans of mice and men.
I doubt there's much crossover.

They want such different things.
Mike!

Why don't you go and see if Mr Cash
needs anything?

Like a skip...for example.

♪ Love is a burning thing

Mr Cash. Mr Cash.
Begging your pardon.

You seem to have accidentally
grabbed my tie.

Mr Cash, I just want to check
-your mini bar.
-You can't.

It's stuck in a bush.
Mike, I'll take it from here.

I can't actually leave
because...er...

Right.

♪ I fell into a ring of fire

♪ I fell into a burning ring of fire

Whilst in the midst of battle,
Lord Almighty fallen

-Where are his people?
-They've gone
on a day trip to Sherwood Forest.

-Of course.
-There's definitely
someone in there wi' him.

He's been screaming blue murder
-at 'em.
-Do something about the tie.

Oh, but I love her, Jean.

I know there's an age difference but
she says... Mike.

Go away.

♪ The ring of fire ♪

Mr Cash, it's Jean Sexton.
I'm the hotel manageress.

Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

For your information, that
is the nicest room in the hotel.

Doesn't even have a television.

Mr Cash, if you won't let me in, I'm
going to have to call the police.

I'm a country and western singer.

Their involvement would only fuel
the legend.

We need to make up your room.

There's no need to make it up.
It's already here.

You can't stay in there forever.

Eventually, you're going to run out
of painkillers.

(CHAIN RUSTLES ON DOOR)

To they that knocketh,
it shall be opened.

Hello. I'm Johnny Cash.

What have you written that with?

-Hot chocolate.
-That's a relief.

Shall I take that? Thank you.

I guess you'd better sit down.

There may be some vomit on that.

I'll wash my hands. Maybe you could
pass me the sink (?)

Oh, sure.

Ha! I'd offered you coffee but...

You don't have a kettle.
I have red wine...

if you don't mind drinking it out of
your cupped hands.

Not now I've got sick on them.

Oh, Mr Cash.
Whatever have you been up to?

I'm sorry, mam but I had to defend
myself.

Against who? Not Mike.

Mike?
(MAKES CHOKING NOISE)

Hell, no. Not him. He's just a jerk.

Well, there's no one else here.
Oh, he'll be back.

I'm afraid I can't predict when.

No one can.

We should get someone out to have
a look at your hand.

No, I don't believe
in that palm reading bullshit.

No, I don't mean someone to predict
when your attacker will return.

I mean someone to LOOK at your hand.

-A doctor.
-No, it's OK.

I...I have medication.

I saw the empty packets in the bin.

Well, you're quite a detective.

Say, do you know I was in Columbo
once?

Yes, I remember.

Mam, can I be completely honest
with you?

I know what you're going to say
but you weren't bad.

-You're a singer not an actor.
-No.

Columbo wasn't what I was gonna be
completely honest about.

-Oh.
-The truth is, I've experienced
darkness in my life.

Yeah. An addiction to painkillers.

Surely you need to experience pain
in order to write melancholy songs.

You speak of sooth, mam.

You can call me Jean.

I'm John.

Tell me, do you sing, Jean?

Not any more.
I used to sing in a choir.

Yeah, and you shall give.

We all shall.

Anyway, I've wrestled with pain.

Pain in all its grim manifestations.

What brought about such terrible
torment?

-I had an eye infection.
-Yes, that can
really smart.

So I got some pills to take
the pain away.

And well, that felt good.

Have you heard of Optrex?
I just didn't want any more pain.

You should try sitting
on an upturned wastepaper bin

while a sad, but slightly rambling,
story unfolds.

Jean, forgive me. Here. Please take
my pillow.

Anyway, I beat that addiction...

with the help of the Good Lord.

Amen! Sorry.

I'm, by instinct, a joiner-inner.

But hang on a minute,
if you've beaten the addiction,

why was the bin full of...?
Beat it I did...

And then, well I guess it was about
two years ago...

..I went for what you might call
a life-changing walk.

The air that day seemed to smell
like the early times.

I looked at creation all around me
and I saw that it was good.

But who can say how or when
the Evil One will manifest himself?

♪ I found him by the railroad track
this morning ♪

Hold on a minute. Were you in
Africa?

I guess I'd better start
at the beginning.

I'm going to tell you
a somewhat distressing story.

Will it involve you throwing
anything out of the window?

Only my personal dignity.
I'm all ears.

My home is in Tennessee. I live
in a place called The House of Cash.

Oh. Is it a bureau de change?

It's a theme park.
What sort of theme park?

It's me themed.

Oh. The House of Cash. I get it.

Maybe theme park's the wrong word.

It's more of a museum - a museum
about me.

A me-seum.

-If you like.
-You live in a museum
dedicated to yourself?

I guess we all do.

Wise words?

In a ways, I populated the
surrounding land with a menagerie

including a couple of ostriches.

Male and female.

I cared for them as Noah cared
for his adopted creatures.

You mean in extremely cramped
-conditions?
-Hell, no!

They wandered free.

Sometimes, I'd happen across them
making love in a clearing.

-What was that like?
-Disgusting.

Then came that awful winter.

Oh, I tried to give 'em shelter

but they were the meanest, most
uncooperative critters, I ever knew.

Have you ever employed English
teenagers?

Whoa. We had this girl from Derby
worked here...

She used to sit there, take her
shoes off and then sit...

It grew colder. The ostrich is
a desert bird

and well, love can only keep you warm
for so long, Jean.

I know. I've been camping.

I found her frozen solid.

I won't deny it.
I cried like a child.

♪ Goodbye, little darling...

But the meat was tender.

-What about her partner?
-We could not
locate that bird.

♪ Although we have to part...

I tried everything I could think of.

♪ You're always in my heart

♪ Goodbye, little darling, goodbye

♪ Goodbye, little darling, goodbye ♪

I really thought he'd come looking
for her

but I guess he knew she'd gone to a
better place.

Your stomach, you mean.

Then spring came.

I was out taking a solitary walk.

The air was crisp as fine linen.

It felt good to be alive.

My personal problems behind me.

(RUSTLING)

Then, suddenly, there he stood.

Manifesting great rage and hungry
for revenge.

Waldo...

I always figured we'd meet again.

Waldo?

(TOILET FLUSHES)

That was his name.

And you spoke to him?

Did Eve not speak with the serpent?

Yes, but... I'm not saying that
turned out well.

I'm just saying there's a president.

(HISSES)

Look, I'm sorry for your loss.

But this land is my land
and you're on it.

And I'm the boss.

Now, cease this leaping. You're an
ostrich, Waldo.

You lost your battle with gravity
generations ago.

Whoa! I see there's no reasoning
with you on this occasion.

I shall walk again tomorrow.

Guess that'll give you 24 hours
to reconsider your position.

(HISSES)

Firm but fair.
How did Waldo take it?

Oh, he continued to bluster
so I moved on.

I don't like to play hard ball
with the bereaved.

But his manner was hostile and I had
to draw a line.

So the next day, I walked again.

With a big stick.

To draw the line?
In a manner of speaking.

Yey, though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death

I will fear no evil for thou art
with me,

Thy rod and thy staff,
they comfort me.

You were going to hit him with it.

If the occasion arose.

I returned to the path I had walked
the previous day.

(HISSES)

Waldo, I did not come here seeking
conflict.

But I will strike thee down if you
come any...

Ompf!

(HISSES)

My next blow will finish you, Waldo.

I'll eat you like I ate
your beloved.

♪ I hurt myself today

♪ To see if I still feel... ♪

Don't condemn me with your stare,
Jean.

I'll show you what a vengeful ostrich
is capable of.

Oh, sorry. When things got scary
last night,

I put on the hotel's non-slip bath
mat as a protective shield.

Would that I'd been wearing it that
fateful day in Tennessee.

(GASPS)

After Waldo fled into the
undergrowth,

I had to hold the wound together
to stop my intestines falling out.

Like I was clutching a
busted grocery bag full of sausages.

That flightless bastard broke two
of my ribs as well.

If I hadn't been wearing a sturdy
leather belt,

I wouldn't be here today.
It doesn't bear thinking about.

But did you have to tell him
you'd eaten his partner?

It must have been hard for him to
comprehend.

I did mention he's an ostrich.

Yes. But who knows what they do
and don't understand.

Well, he understood the international
language of the big stick.

Anyways, the pain was intense
and well, I just couldn't take it.

Oh. I see.

Waldo got his dark revenge. He turned
me back into a junkie.

-That's annoying.
-I'm a pillhead,
Jean.

I wash 'em down with a bottle of red
wine and I am at peace.

Well, I was until last night.

-He has returned.
-Who?

I woke in the early hours and there
he stood

pecking at the complimentary
fruit bowl. Biding his time.

Not Waldo. But, how did he get past
reception?

They wouldn't have recognised him.
Ostriches look pretty much alike.

Fearing another attack, I tore the
vertical ironing board from the wall.

-It's a trouser press.
-And used it as
a shield. He fought like a demon.

You've made a right mess
of this shoe horn.

It occurred to me if I could shove it
into his anus

I might be able to rupture his
spleen.

-Any luck?
-I gained entrance but just
as I was about to commence

my scooping motion, he suddenly
wiggled like a hula dancer,

spun around and took it from me with
his razor-sharp beak.

He fears nothing. Including
bacteria.

What I don't understand is how did
he manage to get in...?

Jon, take multiple painkillers with
copious amounts of wine...

Are there side effects?
None whatsoever.

That's lucky (!)
What are you
driving at, Jean?

You just hear about people on drugs
having hallucinations.

-You know, seeing things.
-You're
wrong, Jean. He was as real as...

(PHONE) Erm... I believe it's
underneath the mediocre landscape.

If you don't like this, why didn't
you throw it out of the window?

I respect art.
Even at its most pedestrian.

Hello.

Hello, Kirsty.

Thanks. Your road manager is here.
He's on his way up.

-Is he with Waldo?
-No.

I think
Kirsty would have mentioned it.

How long you been running
the place, Jean?

I've only got this job on a
three-month trial.

I'll find out next month if they're
keeping me.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Hm. I guess I haven't helped.

John, I got here as fast as I could.

Didn't you get a hotel pen and one
of those little notepads?

Am I still wearing my hat?
I hope so.

It's what Robin Hood used to wear.
(SIGHS) It's pretty.

I was gonna get you one but they
-don't do them in black.
-Oh, J-J...

this is Jean.
She's showed me kindness.

God bless you, Jean.

Would you like a Johnny Cash
souvenir plectrum?

I didn't do it for personal gain.

Take it, Jean.
I won't think less of you.

Thank you.
I used to play the guitar.

This might inspire me to take it up
again.

What have you done to yourself?
It was here in this room.

We fought like Lucifer
and the Archangel Michael.

I'm confused now.

You smashed the room up because you
-were on pills and wine.
-Hell, no.

Waldo came. Looking for blood.

Waldo? As in the ostrich Waldo?
You betcha.

-But where is he now?
-Humpf.
The bird has flown.

I'm no ornithologist but I'm pretty
sure ostriches are incapable...

-How did he get here?
-He didn't say.
He might have been on our plane.

An ostrich on a plane.

It's taken him a while
but he finally found a Plan B.

But wouldn't we have seen him
on the plane?

-Maybe he was in coach.
-Are you sure
about this, John?

It could have been another Ostrich.
I don't know anything anymore.

John...

..probably best
you don't mention this to anyone.

You think I'd be ostracised?

(MOUTHS)

You're not yourself. You're...
I've lost my way, J-J.

I must accept that. I can't go on
burying my head in the sand.

(MOUTHS)

(PHONE)

Hello. OK. They'll be right down.

The ambulance is here. He's parked
at the back.

-It's more private.
-Come on, John.
Let's get that hand fixed.

If they right hand offendeth thee,
cut it off.

We're not going NHS.

I guess I did a bad thing, Jean.

This room was due for a refurb.

No, I was talking about my Columbo.
No, that was a fab episode.

Honest. I love where you point where
you think all the killers are.

That was my idea. The director said
it was too much.

Ooh.

-Come with me, Jean.
-Jean's got
a hotel to run.

-I've got you now.
-I need you.

Just for a little while.

♪ He heard that lonesome whistle blow

Mr Cash. Mr Cash.

I'm from the Nottingham Evening
Post.

We were told there'd been
-an incident.
-Told by who?

Mr Cash has badly wounded his
hand...

falling over a...erm...

an extension cable rail. You know
those...things.

Yes, I fell into a turning ring
of wire.

And I believe I may have bled to
death had it not been for the actions

of the hotel manageress, Jean Sexton.

Make sure you get the name right.

She's best hotel administrator
I've ever met.

She's handled everything
-to perfection.
-Sorry, Miss.

We really need to get Mr Cash
to the hospital.

♪ I'm so lonesome, I could cry ♪

JOHNNY AND JEAN: # Swing low sweet
chariot...

♪ Comin' for to carry me home

♪ Swing low, sweet chariot

♪ Comin' for to carry me home ♪

(PLAYS RIFF)

subtitles by Deluxe
E-mail sky.subtitles@sky.uk

♪ Swing low...

♪ ..sweet chariot

♪ Comin' for to carry me home

♪ Swing lo-ow-ow, sweet chariot

♪ Comin' for to carry me home

♪ Well, now, they're comin' for
to carry me home ♪

Every loose end has got to be
tied up.

Makes you crazy.

That's a crying shame. It really is.

A man with your talent.
Real killers loose out there.

And they got you chasing smoke.