All language subtitles for The Regime - 01x01 - Victory Day.TGx+SuccessfulCrab+AMZN-NTb+MAX-NTb.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

_

- 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.

Alright, bring him in.

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

What's your name again, Corporal?

- Zubak.
- Huh, hard vowels.

Regurgitative, that.

What's your Christian name?

- Herbert.
- Herbert?

Herbert Zubak, just
trips off the tongue.

Pardon the mess.

Fuckin' builders.

Suppose I could just shoot them all,

if you have any tips.

Hello, my dear.

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.

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... Fuck.

Well, the situation
is, we have a problem.

- Namely, spores.
- Spores.

- Spores?
- Stachybotrys atra.

- Mycotoxins.
- Mm, quite dangerous allergens.

The Chancellor spotted them.

She was a physician
herself once, remember?

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.
- Yes...

Hm, well, lucky fucking break, Butcher.

Let's go.

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.

_

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.

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.

- Synced and corrected by naFraC -
- www.addic7ed.com -

- Hello?
- Get up.

You have 20 minutes.

Happy Victory Day, Butcher.

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.

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?

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

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

Open the door, and walk in front of me.

- How are we?
- 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.

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.

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?

Madam.

- Feeling better today?
- Yes, Chief.

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?

She's on her way up.

- Dress?
- 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.

It's like a dog using a calculator.

Well, see her in, Butcher.

Mints, everyone. Short
breaths, mouths closed.

Happy Victory Day, Madam.

Happy Victory Day, Ma'am.

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.

Right. Yes. So, the Texans.

- BioCon.
- 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...

It's the fucking optics.

Like I'm a fucking kept woman.

Granting cobalt mining rights

to a foreign power. I look fucking weak.

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.
- 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.

Yes.

Well...

let's see what happens.

In front.

Front, front, in front of me now.

Not too close, keep your distance.

Be careful in here.

Make sure he keeps his paws to himself.

Moisture.

Twenty-one percent.

Here.

Trite flowers for Victory Day.

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.

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.

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...

Not enough.

I can still smell rotten
air in every fucking room!

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

Before the banquet.

Oxygen at 90%, under pressure.

Crank it up!

We love the magazine, of course,

and we love America.

Always been a very strong bond there.

Oh, absolutely.

I'm French myself, although my home is

wherever Elena is.

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

who share our love of freedom.

- 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.

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.

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...

You're making them fight, sweetheart?

- Yes.
- Good.

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.

How do I look?

Uh, perfect.

Another banquet.

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.

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.
- Stop calling me that.

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.

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

You can trust him.

Our cobalt pit infrastructure

will soon be near top
industry standards.

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"?

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?

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.

The former Chancellor, Edward Keplinger.

The Rat.

And his crony cabal
of neo-Marxist thieves.

He made us feel hopeless.

- 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!

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!

To the Chancellor!

♪ La, la, la, la ♪

♪ 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.

♪ Ooh ♪

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

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ How could we let it slip away? ♪

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

♪ 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.

Oh, thank you so much!

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.

- 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?
- No.

It's just a stupid joke, really.

Should we have brought raincoats?

Ah, no.

Oh, I'm so sorry.
Uh, my wife and I don't eat meat,

only fish.

Oh, please forgive our staff's mistake.

How did you and the Chancellor meet?

Oh, um, we
met in medical school in Paris.

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

but, um, Elena is very persuasive.

Mm-hmm, I can imagine.

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.

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.

Well, we do love Paris.

Will you excuse me for a moment, please?

May I speak with you?

Go here, please. Go, go there.

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

Look at me, please.

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.

Stick it in your mouth,
you graceless fucking cow.

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.

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.

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.

It's at 31.

Not him.

Wait here.

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.

I wa... I was trying to help.

Like you helped at Site Five.

Hm.

Just kill yourself.

Westgate trash.

Just kill yourself!
Kill, kill, kill, kill yourself!

Useless beef.

Just kill yourself. Kill yourself!

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

Shh.

Shh.

It's alright. Shh.

It's, it's alright.

Yes, I know.

I know you're scared.

We can both be scared, mm?

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

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

you and I,

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

Chief!

Dead, dead,
dead, dead, dead, dead, dead!

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.

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

Help me! Help me! Get out! Out!

Help me! Help me! Help. Help me.

Give your arm, give your arm.

_

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."

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...

This will help your body to fight.

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

It hates poison.

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.

- 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?

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.

Lenny... do you suppose...

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

Stop it.

I have. Just s-stop that.

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

Madam Chancellor, you look well,

and we hope you're recuperating briskly.

It's been quite a shock.

- Very much so.
- Terrible, terrible few weeks.

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.

Absolutely not. Never again.

Madam,

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

No, no. You are terrible!

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!

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."

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.

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

- Synced and corrected by naFraC -
- www.addic7ed.com -