All language subtitles for The.Regime.S01E01.WEB.x264-TORRENTGALAXY

(grand, intense music playing)

(plucky music playing)

(tires screeching)

- (horn honks)
- (music intensifies)

♪

♪

(music softens)

(grunting)

- What's wrong with him?
- Nothing.

Just gave him something
to calm him down.

But when it wears off,
he's not dangerous, is he?

- Oh, that's your problem now.
- Fuck. (sighs)

Alright,
bring him in.

Come on, she's about
to give her speech.

♪

What's your name
again, Corporal?

- corporal: Zubak.
- Huh, hard vowels.

Regurgitative, that.

- What's your
Christian name?
- (Zubak coughs)

- Herbert
- Herbert?

Herbert Zubak,
just trips off
the tongue.

- (Herbert coughs)
- Pardon the mess.

Fuckin' builders.

Suppose I could just
shoot them all,

if you have any tips.

nurse:
Hello, my dear.

manager:
Don't worry about
the ammonia smell.

They're sanitizing
for the third time
in as many months.

What the fuck you think
this is, an open house?

Go and find
your team downstairs.

The tall, scary woman
is Susan Goin,
Minister of Finance.

The short, furry man
is Dr. Kershaw,

the Chancellor's
personal physician.

Put his jacket on.

(light, tense music playing)

Christ, he's a plow horse.
This one won't last a week.

Okay, sit.

Alright.
Hello in there.

Are you with us?

I should tell you,
I vehemently opposed
your selection.

You and your
trigger finger made

quite a fucking
mess for us.

But the Chancellor
insisted,

so, um, here you are.

And he's
signed everything,
has he, Agnes?

- Yeah, yeah, earlier.
- Good. Good!

So, where to begin?

I suppose
moisture, yes?

- Sorry?
- Can you listen, please?

How much do you know?

Sorry, are you
hearing me?

Eh, I only know
I'm reassigned.

Right...
(exhales) Fuck.

Well, the situation is,
we have a problem.

- Namely, spores.
- Spores.

- Spores?
- Stachybotrys atra.

- Mycotoxins.
- Mm, quite dangerous allergens.

Dr. Kershaw:
The Chancellor spotted them.

She was a physician
herself once, remember?

Agnes:
Mm-hmm.

But it is a very
serious concern.

Very much so.

But we're containing
the problem, of course.

Yes. Yeah.
Well, no, no, no, no, no.

We're working on containing
the problem as such.

Hence the renovation
of the palace,

tearing out the guts,
scraping it clean, hm, so on.

But you understand
the gravity of the problem,
Corporal Zubak, yes?

And you comprehend
that the problem is real

for the Chancellor?

She's in danger?

Well... quite
great danger, yes.

But, uh, no,
we're sorting it.

So you'll have a chat
with the Chancellor, yes?

- Ready?
- Now?

Now, yes, good.
Come on, then.

Never breathe
in her direction.

Stay calm.
Don't vomit.

(anticipatory music playing)

Enter.

Corporal Zubak,
Madam Chancellor.

Yes.
Thank you, Susan.

Sorry for all
the security measures.

Are you alright?

Yes, Chief.

Are you sure?

They can be
so overcautious
on my behalf.

And don't worry
about these people.

They're just
setting up.

So you're
from Westgate, I hear.

- Yes, Chief.
- Land of the sugar beet.
Stunning place.

Not so much, Chief.

And your parents?

They are dead.

Mine too.
Leave us.

Sit.

(door opens)

(door closes)

(sighs)
Now, I don't wish
to be indelicate,

but do you know why
I selected you for this job?

- N-No, Chief.
- I wanted a Site Five boy.

No, no, don't be ashamed.

They behaved like animals,
those protesters.

You soldiers just reacted.

I was right to send
you boys down that mine,

in spite of what
my critics say.

Not nice what
they're calling you,

Butchers of Site Five.

But it's alright.
I know the truth.

There's a good man
in there who deserves love.

Thank you, Chief.

Do you know
it's the oddest thing?
I feel like we've met before.

Like a déjà vu thing
or something.

Or like we met
in a dream.

Have we?

I don't think so, Chief.

Hm.

So, they've explained
the job, then?

Herbert Zubak:
Uh, no, Chief.

Well, fine.

Better they haven't.

Trust me,
the so-called experts

know less than
the common shits
like us.

Up. Right.

This is a hygrometer.
It measures humidity
in the air.

It helps you to tell me
if there's mold nearby.

We'll need you
to follow me everywhere

and take measurements,
do you understand?

- Yes, I think so, Chief.
- Good.

I'd say we're just
about meant for each other,

wouldn't you?

Let's have you
leave now.

Thank you.

Now, Corporal...

a graceful mind.

You must strive
to have a graceful mind.

Yes, I will try, Chief.
Thank you.

Yeah.

Susan Goin:
Good, that should be all then.

Oh, no, no, no, no.
We don't do that.

I-In fact,
you must quite
strongly dissuade

anyone from hand contact
with the Chancellor.

- Do you understand?
This is very important.
- (quietly) Yes...

Hm, well, lucky
fucking break, Butcher.

Agnes:
Let's go.

(plucky music playing)

They say
cleansin' the palace
may take years.

God help us.

Well, here we are.
Your new home.

You'll start first
thing in the morning.

Tonight,
you'll memorize
the floor plan

and a schedule
for tomorrow.

♪

I'll have someone
get your things.

Have you got things?

Hey, you.

I've cared for this
slag heap my whole life,

so don't go soilin' it.

And invest
in some moisturizer

'cause the dehumidifiers
turn your skin to
a mummy's asshole.

(gagging)

(retching)

(heavy breathing)

♪

- (turns volume up)
- Seven years ago tomorrow,

we defeated
Chancellor Edward Keplinger

and his bandit radicals
in a free and fair election.

It is this victory
that we celebrate.

When I became your Chancellor,
I did so with a heavy heart.

I knew the hard work
of smashing the failed state

would devour my time,

and would prevent me
from being next to you,

with your hand in mine.

(on TV) But just know,

you fill me with all
the love I'll ever need.

And so, I bless you all.

And I bless our love, always.

(upbeat, orchestral
theme music playing)

♪

(theme concludes)

(light snoring)

(phone ringing)

- Hello?
- Susan (over phone):
Get up.

You have 20 minutes.

- Happy Victory Day, Butcher.
- (Susan hangs up)

(grunts)

(heavy breathing)

- (door opens)
- Agnes: Happy Victory Day,
Herbie.

Let's go.

- Did you get
the floor plan down?
- Uh, I think so, yes.

She hates doubt.
Do you need a mop,
you prick?

Go and find
your section crew.

Breathing.
If she passes ya,
hold it in.

If she talks to you,
cover your mouth.

Hit your mints often.

If she smells mold,

tell her you
smell it too.

- How'd she do?
- She said the sausage
looked like a baboon's cock.

- (Agnes sighs)
- Mind if the cooks eat it?

Fine, yeah.
Don't let the guards see.

- Mm.
- What's her mood?

Uh, five out of 10.

- With a 10 being good?
- Does it matter if it's five?

Come and stand
against this wall.

Come on.

Hey, it's
dead simple.

You walk with her,
and you measure
the relative humidity.

What does
this number mean?

(whispers) It means
"Don't ask questions
and look sharp,

or you'll end up
like the last one."

(hygrometer beeps)

(door opens)

(Herbert clears throat)

Open the door,
and walk in front of me.

- How are we?
- Herbert: Very good, Chief.

No, my dear,
how's our moisture?

Um, it's, uh, 31%.

Glasshouse first
with Mr. Laskin,

head of security service.

Today, you'll encounter
a soup terrine of worms

known as the bureaucracy.

Prepare yourself.

Happy Victory Day, Madam.

(ambient nature sounds)

It's, uh, 41%.

Here's our intelligence
on this glorious morning:

My sources
in the planning office

suspect Finance Minister Goin's
patience is running thin,

waiting for you to finalize
the cobalt partnership

with the U.S.

Should you choose
to proceed with the deal,

I'm told the Americans
may require additional
reassurance

due to the Site Five...
unseemliness.

(insects buzzing)

On Palace intel, then.

Some chatter downstairs
about your appetite.

And, oh, a reminder,
your husband's sitting
with "Vogue" today.

I assume
we should surveil?

- (sighs)
- Madam.

- Feeling better today?
- Yes, Chief.

(beeps)

Your mind is
more graceful?

I think so, yes.

I wonder,
where were we
last night?

I'm sorry?

That place we met,
where was it?

Last night?

Yes, my love.
Our dream.

Don't you remember?

Sugar beets.

Yes, that's right.
Sugar beets.

Lovely,
weren't they?

(light, plucky music playing)

- (phone dings)
- She's on her way up.

- speaker 1: Dress?
- speaker 2: Green.

- Had to be green, didn't it?
- You're scared of a fabric dye?

You really are
a mewling vulva, Mr. Schiff.

Well, what do you expect?

She hasn't so much
as glanced at me
in months.

Well, consider
yourself fortunate.

The right hand
gets the smack.

You notice how she's
cooling on her favorite,

Our Lady
of the Shrinking GDP?

Jealousy is bred
in self-doubt,
Mr. Singer.

(chuckles)

- (hygrometer beeps)
- (all groaning)

It's like a dog
using a calculator.

(hygrometer beeps)

Well,
see her in, Butcher.

Mints, everyone.
Short breaths, mouths closed.

- minister 1:
Happy Victory Day, Madam.
- (applause)

minister 2:
Happy Victory Day, Ma'am.

minister 3:
Happy Victory Day, Madam.

Let's get on with it,
please, yes?

These need to be briefer,

these briefings.

Oh, ravishing.

The--
I mean, the flowers
are... ravishing.

(sighs) Right. Yes.
So, the Texans.

- BioCon.
- Minister Schiff: Uh, yes.

Uh, R-Richard Kaiser,
the CEO, will be

at your table tonight,
with his wife.

And as you know,
it would be ideal

if we could move towards
closing the cobalt deal.

You think
I'm dragging my heels,
is that it, Susan?

- No, no, Madam.
No, of course not.
- Well, you do think it.

- Say it plainly.
- Well, as you know, Madam,

we are in dire need
of investment.

And, well, I-I
needn't remind you

that you once
fully endorsed
this deal.

Well, perhaps
my thinking's changed, hm?

Is that alright with you?
It doesn't tread on your
little tootsies, does it?

No, but with
our economic
indices slowing,

we do need to find some other--

Elena Vernham:
It's the fucking optics.

Like I'm a fucking
kept woman.

Granting cobalt mining rights

to a foreign power.
I look fucking weak.

Singer:
I agree, ma'am.

We've always messaged

greater national
self-sufficiency,

and letting America
use our resources

for their Teslas
and laptops,

well, it's hardly
that, now is it?

With respect
to Mr. Singer's
comms expertise,

- the people want growth.
- Elena: Oh!

And you know what
the people want,
do you, Susan?

You can hear them grunting
from your country house?

Madam, set aside
the facts and figures.

The real issue is,
the sooner we close this deal,

the sooner
we can truly invest
in our top priorities.

Like making
this palace safe,

making the air
around you safe,

making you safe.

(sighs)

Yes.

Well...

let's see what happens.

♪

(hygrometer beeps)

In front.

Front, front,
in front of me now.

Not too close,
keep your distance.

(tense string music playing)

Be careful in here.

Make sure he keeps
his paws to himself.

(Elena sighs)

Moisture.

- (Elena sighs)
- Herbert: Twenty-one percent.

♪

Elena:
Here.

Trite flowers
for Victory Day.

(clears throat)

(sighs)
Look, Daddy,

I'm not going to feel foolish
for having a celebration,

if that's what
you're thinking.

I know you
always hated parties,
but I don't, so, fine.

And, uh, every girl likes
an excuse to dress up.

They love it out there.

Yes, they love me,

much more than
they ever loved you.

Yeah, perhaps that's why
I won the Chancellorship

and you never came near it.

Ever thought of that?
Some silly old husk.

Oh, you've got spots now.

That's new.

(slight chuckle)
Leopard changing
its spots.

Get it? Very funny.

Hilarious. Right.

Is that it?
Are we done?
Yes?

Good.

Happy, happy.

One more
deep breath, please.

(coughs) Oh, dear, no,
it's worse this week.

Humidity's
spiking again.
I knew it.

- Try and relax, Madam.
- No, I knew it, I knew it.

I can't relax,
can I, when there's
mold everywhere.

Madam, as you are aware,
with the AAT deficiency

that you've inherited
from your father,

you are at high risk
of lung disease.

But I can assure you,
we are doing everything--

(grunting) Not enough.

I can still smell
rotten air in every
fucking room!

- Ah, my pills, my pills!
- Later.

Before the banquet.

- (Elena breathing heavily)
- Oxygen at 90%, under pressure.

(through chamber mic)
Crank it up!

(chamber whirring)

Elena's husband:
We love the magazine,
of course,

and we love America.

Always been a very
strong bond there.

interviewer:
Oh, absolutely.

husband:
I'm French myself,
although my home is

wherever Elena is.
(chuckles)

But we're always happy
to partner with our
NATO friends

who share
our love of freedom.

- interviewer:
Right, the subject of freedom?
- By all means.

Amnesty International
says your wife's government

conducts "intensive physical
and electronic surveillance

of private citizens."

Sounds a bit chewy
for a fashion mag, huh?

Uh, no, no.
It's true, we do
take very seriously

the spread of disinformation.

- So in that sense--
- Right, but in terms of the--

But surveillance?
No, God no.

But you admit there is
some close observation.

husband:
As there is
in your country,

but no, true democracy
doesn't happen overnight.

And we are closer now
than we've ever been.

And as for
the reports of unrest...

- Ah, yes.
- ...in the, in the mines?

The Site Five trouble.

(over laptop) That was
an isolated incident,

a-a-a single cobalt mine where
things got a little peppery.

But, um, if I may,
uh, I would like
to steer us back

to my national poetry NGO,
which with--

- (stops video)
- (Elena sighs)

(child grunting)

You're making them
fight, sweetheart?

- Yes.
- Good.

- (knocking on door)
- Enter.

The entrée
for the Victory
dinner, ma'am.

We're done,
thank you.

Oh, um, no, no.

No, no salmon.
No, salmon's meek.

No. No, we need
robust food.

Meat, uh, no game.
Lamb. Yeah, something.

Oh, you'll figure it out.
Um, Oskar, stop doing that.

Go along with your
mother now, angel,

and take your
epilepsy pills, mm.

(Elena clears throat)

(light, tense music playing)

How do I look?

Uh, perfect.

Another banquet.
(sighs)

God, it's exhausting.

Wearing my face
for these people,

smiling at their lies,
slurping on consommé.

I'd like to pour it
on their fucking skulls.

Me too, Chief.

You'd like that,
would you?

Very much, Chief.

Hm.

Well, you'll stick
with me tonight, yeah?

Keep the humidity in check,

and their filthy air
away from me, yes?

I will do
everything you want.

Good...
You're a good man.

Hm.

Good boy.

(door opens, closes)

(jazz music playing at banquet)

- (indistinct chatter)
- Honk.

Knock it off.
You did put
dehumidifiers

under all
these tables,
didn't you?

Yes, Mein Fuhrer.

House call later,
once the boy's asleep?

Not tonight, doc.
There's too much
bloody clean up.

- As you like it, puss.
- (chuckles)
Stop calling me that.

(softly) Hey...
When she arrives,

give her the number, discreetly.

And if she
has a crisis,

escort her
to that hallway
there.

There'll be fresh
oxygen machines waiting,

- but be fucking discreet.
- Okay.

Susan: Mr. Kaiser,
Emil's our country's
top businessman.

You can trust him.

Our cobalt pit
infrastructure

will soon be near
top industry standards.

Richard Kaiser:
Uh-huh, and would
Mr. Bartos call

the massacre
at Site Five

"top industry standards"?

Look,
that was all overblown.

- Just some bad apples.
- Twelve deaths?

Can we just improve
the visuals, please?

Can we not have
the White House
reading about

murdered pit diggers in
"The Washington Post"?

Susan:
Of course.

So, go on, then.

- Why did you do it?
- What?

There's no use
hiding it from me.

I'll find it out
soon enough.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Well, some
say the miners
at Site Five

weren't rioting
at all, ya know?

They were fed up
with the poisoned air

and the dirty water,

so they raised
their voices.

And you Army boys

just panicked
and opened fire.

I wonder, though,
did you panic

or did you enjoy it?

Hm?

- (applause)
- (guests cheering)

Emil Bartos:
My victorious friends,

cast your minds back
seven years ago to the rot
in our nation's heart.

We were
a broken people.

Of course, we know
who broke us.

- (guests booing)
- The former Chancellor,
Edward Keplinger.

- (booing)
- The Rat.

And his crony cabal
of neo-Marxist thieves.

He made us
feel hopeless.

- guest: Mm-hmm.
- That was until
we saw her face.

The young doctor from Rinnburg,
with the brilliant eyes.

She took the tiny party
her father founded

and transformed it
into a monster.

- She trounced Keplinger!
- (guests cheering)

Ran him off
to his country home

where he licks
his wounds still.

So, join me, all, our new
American friends too,

a toast to Elena Vernham,
to the Chancellor!

guests:
To the Chancellor!

(band playing
"If You Leave Me Now"
by Chicago)

singers:
♪ La, la, la, la ♪

(cheering)

(sings)
♪ If you leave me now ♪

♪ You'll take away
the biggest part of me ♪

♪ Ooh-ooh-hoo, no,
baby, please don't go ♪

Wonderful to see
you all looking
so magnificent.

♪ If you leave me now ♪

♪ You'll take away
the very heart of me ♪

You will,
I'll be heartbroken.

♪ Ooh-ooh-hoo, no,
baby, please don't go ♪

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh ♪

No!
I just want
you to stay.

And so does
Nicky, my husband,

Nicholas Vernham, everybody.

singers:
♪ Ooh ♪

♪ A love like ours is
love that's hard to find ♪

singers:
♪ Ooh ♪

Elena:
♪ How could we let
it slip away? ♪

How could we ever?
You're so precious to me.

singers:
♪ Ooh ♪

♪ We've come too far
to leave it all behind ♪

We have.
We must carry on forever.

How could we
end it all this way?

When tomorrow comes,
and we'll both regret...

♪ The things we said today ♪

Don't you leave me now.

Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you.

- (guests applauding, cheering)
- Oh, thank you so much!

(whistling)

Oh, do look.
That's sweet.

Oh, Nicky, look, darling,
they're standing up.

Oh, God, I think
I'm going to cry.

- Goodness.
- That was lovely.

Oh, is that alright?
Honestly, are you sure?

Now, come on,
deep breaths.

- Susan: Wonderful, Madam.
- Oh, thank you,
thank you, Susan.

Thank you.
How wonderful.

Hello,
thank you.

- My goodness, Mr. Kaiser.
- Mrs. Kaiser.

- Pleasure.
- No, no touching, Sir.

Excuse me, excuse me.
That's-- That--

Such a pleasure
to meet you,
Mr. Kaiser.

And your
darling wife,
Mrs. Kaiser.

- Hello.
- Charmed.

- Please, let's sit. We must.
- It's about 40% humidity.

That will be all.
Thank you so much.

- Humidity?
- (chuckles) No.

It's just
a stupid joke, really.

Should we have
brought raincoats?

- (table laughs)
- Ah, no.

Richard:
Oh, I'm so sorry.

Uh, my wife and I
don't eat meat,

only fish.

Oh, please forgive
our staff's mistake.

Deborah Kaiser:
How did you
and the Chancellor meet?

Nicholas Vernham:
Oh, um, we met
in medical school in Paris.

- Deborah: Oh!
- Uh, I had, um, a wife
and a baby at the time,

but, um, Elena
is very persuasive.

- (Nicholas chuckles)
- Mm-hmm, I can imagine.

Nicholas:
Alas, she went home
to pursue politics,

so I went back
to my wife and kid.

And then, um,
she thought that marriage
would help her campaign,

so she asked me
to propose, which I did.

- (deep breath)
- And, um, I left my family
in Paris for good

and, uh, haven't
seen them since.

And thus, here we are,
happily ever after.

(chuckles)
Well, we do love Paris.

Will you excuse me
for a moment, please?

May I speak
with you?

(distant chattering)

(hygrometer beeps)

Go here, please.
Go, go there.

Go on, go on.
That's it.
Go on in there.

- (grunts)
- Look at me, please.

- (grunts)
- You happy now?
Yes, are you?

They think
I'm a lunatic now.

You've handed them
all the leverage.

Do you know,
I am out there
by myself hustling,

providing for my country,

and you've made me
look ridiculous

in front of the Americans.

I am not ridiculous.

I am very much
not ridiculous,

- you stupid cunt.
- I'm sorry.

Next time,
turn your gun
on yourself.

(grunts)

Stick it in your mouth,
you graceless fucking cow.

(tense music playing)

- (guests chattering)
- (music fades out)

So... we should talk.

- But let's eat first, I think.
- Oh, no. Sure.

I, uh, talked to a few
of your folks earlier,
but--

Well, you're not
talking to my folks
now, are you?

You're talking to me.

(chuckles)
And I heard

- you were playing hardball,
which is fine.
- Oh.

But what are you
concerned about, hm?

Bit of worker unrest,
some wonky machinery?

Hm? It's marginalia.
Look at what we are.

We are a young,
Central European
republic

ready to embrace
a modern corporate
governance.

We're ready to grow,
with you.

- Hm.
- Here's the important part.

We love America.
We love our friendship.

And we'd love nothing more
than to tighten those bonds.

We have the cobalt.

You pay for the pits
and the refineries.

It's a perfect partnership.

Or you can hold
China's cock

while they piss
all over your shoes

and hold you hostage
to their corrupt
supply lines.

(Elena chuckles)

Alright, then.

30% stake
in mining rights
as agreed.

Good...
Let's do that then.

But I would like
your assurance
of our ability

to get to 51.

- 51%.
- Which would, of course, be

de rigueur
in a deal structure
like this.

To advance
to a majority stake.

Well, that's how it's
always done, don't worry.

Sorry, just to be clear,

so if I wanted then
to do something
with our cobalt,

I'd have to ask
your permission?

It won't be
a problem.

We'll be more than fair.

(light, tense music playing)

It's at 31.

Not him.

Wait here.

(indistinct, muffled chatter)

(sighs)
Agnes managed
to keep you whole.

I would've sent
the zoo some
fresh lion food.

So, you're no longer
the Chancellor's
personal water diviner.

You are now
the night moisture sentry
for the residence floor.

Do you know
what that means?

- No.
- It means that you wave
your fucking gizmo

around these halls
from midnight to 6 a.m.,

and you never see
the Chancellor's
face again.

Enjoy it,
Butcher.

(solemn music playing)

I wa--
I was trying to help.

Like you helped
at Site Five.

Hm.

♪

♪

Just kill yourself.

Westgate trash.

(hushed) Just kill yourself!
Kill, kill, kill, kill yourself!

Useless beef.

Just kill yourself.
Kill yourself!

Fuck, fuck, fuck,
fuck, fuck, fuck!

(loud bang)

(tense, mysterious
music playing)

(groans)

♪

(person breathing heavily)

- (ominous music playing)
- Shh.

Shh.

It's alright.
Shh.

It's, it's alright.

(suspenseful music playing)

Yes, I know.

I know you're scared.

We can both
be scared, mm?

Yes, we'll...
we'll get through
this together.

- Nicholas: What's going--
- We come from the same place,

you and I,

and that's why we'll be
thick as thieves, my love.

Herbert:
Chief!

- (dramatic music playing)
- (alarm sounds)

(Elena screaming)

(grunting)

(alarm blaring)

(grunting) Dead, dead, dead,
dead, dead, dead, dead!

(yells)

Elena: (screams)
I-I breathed him!
I breathed him!

I breathed him!
I breathed him!

Out, out, out, out!
Oh, I breathed him!
I breathed him!

- In the chair.
- (Elena screaming)

- I breathed him, I breathed him!
- Give me your hands,
give me your hands.

Elena:
Help me! Help me!
Get out! Out!

Help me! Help me!
Help. Help me.

Give your arm,
give your arm.

- (heavy breathing)
- (Herbert shushing)

(machine beeping)

(music fades out)

- (bells tolling)
- (birds chirping)

What are you
doing here?

They needed more
scrubby hands

for the great
microbe hunt.

- Miss me, puss?
- Stop calling me that.

What are people
hearing outside?

Only what
the state news
tells them.

"The Chancellor is enjoying
a well-deserved holiday

- in the mountains."
- (scoffs)

Yeah, the mountains
of fucking madness.

Ah, two weeks
without a public
appearance.

People must know
something's up.

- How's the boy?
- Yeah, he's fine, yeah.

Keeps asking
where "she" is.

Where is
the old girl?

Lord knows.
Nobody's seen
her except--

(light, cheery music playing)

(scanner whirring)

(music intensifies)

(door opens)

This will help
your body to fight.

It's sunflower,
like my mother
used to make.

It hates poison.

(knocking at door)

Sir?

- Yeah, uh, I'd like to see her.
- Is she expecting you?

I'm her husband.

Is she expecting you?

One expects their husband
to enter a room.

- It's alright, my love.
- (door shuts)

- My love.
- Hello, Nicky.

I've missed you,
Lenny.

Minister Goin
and Dr. Kershaw

wanted to share a plan
for the short term.

Perhaps it wouldn't
hurt to chat?

He's got spots now.

Sorry, dear?

Elena: More spots.
Have you seen?

Who has, m-my love?

Him, downstairs.

- On his face.
- Ah, but it--

I-It's been
a year now, my love.

I-I'm sure
it's normal.

No... that's what
cosmetics are for.

I should not have
to spot the spots.

- (pensive music playing)
- Lenny... do you suppose...

- maybe it's time
to let him go?
- S--

Stop it.

I have.
Just s-stop that.

(speaking French)

(speaking French)

(sighs)

Oh, tell them I'll
meet them at noon.

(deep breath)

♪

(inhales, exhales)

♪

(hygrometer beeps)

♪

♪

Susan:
Madam Chancellor,
you look well,

and we hope you're
recuperating briskly.

It's been
quite a shock.

- Dr. Kershaw: Very much so.
- Susan: Terrible, terrible
few weeks.

Dr. Kershaw:
What happened
was unthinkable.

A fluke,
some lunatic.

A former
cobalt miner

turned builder,
we've learned.

Very ill in the head.

But every measure
is being taken to ensure

that nothing
of this nature
ever happens again.

Dr. Kershaw:
Absolutely not.
Never again.

Madam, (sighs)

there's no use
dancing around it.

The palace,
at present,

is simply unfit
for your habitation.

The data is
incontrovertible.

Here's the bind.

We can't risk further
security breaches,

- and so the renovation
has to be put on hold.
- No question.

Susan:
Which means, of course--

The toxicity you detected

in the walls would remain.

You'd be trapped
in a petri dish.

Meaning
a relocation
of sorts

to the countryside,
uh, pending your approval.

Of course,
while you recuperate,

certain government
functions would still

need to operate here.

And so, myself
and a select staff

would remain in the capital
to oversee those functions.

Vital tasks only,
such as finishing
the cobalt deal.

Madam,

we weren't able
to save your father

- from his failing lungs...
- Oh.

...but it's not
too late to save you.

Thank you both.

You may go.

Rest well, Madam.

Corporal, sit.

(Herbert grunts)

No... Come here.
Sit beside me.

Do you know
why you're here?

No.

You're here
because you
are nobody,

do you understand?

I don't mean that
as an insult.

I only mean it
as a fact.

You are not...
anybody.

And that means
I can trust you, yes?

Yes, Chief.

Now, you are
the only one

who can tell me
what the nobodies want.

Look at me.

You love me,
don't you?

- Yes.
- Can you say it?

I love you.

Yes.

Now if you love me...

tell me honestly...

what would you like...
to happen... next?

Tell me.

You were in
my dream last night,

and I was in yours.

And you told me
to crush them,

anyone who makes
you weak.

They've cut our
balls off, Chief.

And now they are
laughing at us

because you dance
for foreign cash

like a sick fucking
bear at the circus.

And that's what
everybody's saying
out there.

You don't hear it,
but that's what they
are saying, trust me.

America treats us
as if we are their
fucking colony.

So, what do they do?

They rain piss
on us all day.

They want you to fail.

And so does
your finance bitch.

And so does
your fat pig doctor

telling you you are sick.

You are sick?
That's bullshit!

Something,
yes, it's true.

Something
in this building
is killing you,

but it's not this shit,
it's not this shit.

It's them!

They want you c--
Look at me.

And they want you crippled

because you have something
they will never, ever have.

A fucking dream.

(dramatic drum music playing)

I'd love to smash
their fucking faces
forever.

A graceful mind.

♪

One, two, three, four,
I declare a thumb war.

Fight, fight, fight,
fight, fight, fight,
fight, fight.

No, no, no!
That's a tactic!

(gasps)
That was a tactic!

Nicky,
did you see that?
Let's try again.

Look me in the eye.
I'm about to win.

One, two, three, four,
I declare a thumb war.

Fight, fight, fight!
Got you!

Okay, best of three.
One, two, three, four.

Fight, fight, fight.
(laughs)

No, no.
You are terrible!

(sighs)

♪

(sighs)

My friends...
a few weeks ago,

one of my government's
top ministers,

along with key members
of my household retinue,

conspired with
a foreign-backed
fifth column

to assassinate me
while I slept.

Get off me!
Get off me!

Elena:
For the past year,
these individuals

have weakened our economy,

our government,
and even my immune system,

aided by meddling
foreign regimes.

Which is why, today,

I am issuing
an executive order

to repay our debts,
turn away American investors,

and rid this country
of its sick dependence
on NATO's teat.

My husband and I

have been deeply touched
by the outpouring

of love and support
we've seen across
the nation this week.

This is
the true spirit
of our people.

You are
the beating heart.

You are the soul
of everything.

You are the well
from which I draw

strength to vanquish
our enemies.

I will not let
you be sucked

into the decadence
and toxicity of America

and its surrogates
around the globe.

For years,
we have suffered

so they could build
the global order
in their image.

They've provided material aid
to corrupt regimes abroad.

They committed
and abetted mass murder,

and they've waged
their crony capitalist war

in every corner of the planet.

They have told the rest of us,
"Play ball, sit up straight,

do as we tell you,
and pay the toll."

(sighs)
It's time to say enough.

We will no longer be a party
to their legacy of brutality.

We will no longer
suffer for their greed.

It is time to show
America and the world

precisely what we are worth.

(dramatic music playing)

I bless you all,
and I bless our love,
always.

(light, plucky music playing)

♪