All language subtitles for The Suite Life on Deck s02e17 Rollin With The Holmsies.eng

Man, I love london.

Would you stop?
She's never going to date you.

I was talking about
the city.

But I'd love to take a tour
of the other london too.

Sorry to rain
on your parade,

but she's very picky about
the guys that she dates.

- You gotta be rich.
- I'm rich.

You gotta be tall.

I'm rich.

Well, it looks like
that guy's both.

So how do you clean
your moat?

We use that white
round thingy on the side

that turns the water blue.

We use that too--

ever since our alligator
ate the moat boy.

Hi, guys.
Have you met the lord?

Well, once I ran
my bike into a tree,

and I saw this bright white
light and I wasn't quite sure

- if it was the lord--
- ohhhhh!

Not that lord.
This lord.

Lord hartley wicket.
He's 25th in line for the throne.

Oh, that happens all the time
when they have the buffet.

You can use the employee throne
back here, if you like.

There's a sign
about washing your hands, but it's just a suggestion.

So what would you like?

- From you? Nothing.
- Ugh.

Well, enough chit-chat
with the unwashed masses.

I'll pick you up
after my football match.

Oooh, I like football--
shoulder pads and makeup.

So, uh, what do you play?
"Uptight" end?

I'm not talking about that
wimpy offspring of rugby

you colonists
call football. I'm talking about

what you yanks
call soccer.

Whatever.
Look, everybody knows

that the best sport is hoops.

- Mm-hmm.
- Really?

I'm quite a good hoops
player myself.

Maybe we should play
a little two on two.

You guys against me
and my boarding-school chum

snively snodgrass.

- Well, you're on.

This is so exciting!
The ugly Americans versus the englanders.

- You're American.
- Not for tax purposes.

♪ Oh ay oh, oh ay oh ♪

♪ come along with me ♪

♪ and let's head out to see ♪

♪ what this world has ♪

♪ for you and for me now ♪

♪ whichever way
the wind blows ♪

- ♪ we say... ♪
- ♪ hey-ho, let's go! ♪

- ♪ oh ay oh ♪
- ♪ this boat's rocking ♪

- ♪ oh ay oh ♪
- ♪ ain't no stopping us now ♪

♪ 'cause we're living
the suite life ♪

- ♪ oh ay oh ♪
- ♪ this boat's rocking ♪

- ♪ oh ay oh ♪
- ♪ rocking the whole world round ♪

♪ and we're living
the suite life now ♪

♪ hey ho! Oh ay oh ♪

♪ let's go! ♪

I wish Cody
would hurry up.

There's so many
incredible things I want to see in london.

Cheerio, old chums.

Why are you dressed like
my grandmother's loveseat?

I thought we'd stop by
the Sherlock Holmes exhibition.

I am the President of the Boston
chapter of his fanclub--

the Sherlock holmies.

No offense,
but you sure-lock stupid.

How long is
this going to take? I want to go

to Buckingham Palace and see
the changing of the guard.

Relax, the queue
is moving.

See?

While you stand in the "q,"
I gotta go "p."

Oh, save my spot.

Or don't.
I really don't care.

Man, these guys sure
dress up to watch a basketball game.

Oh dear, by "hoops"

you obviously thought
I meant that silly game

played by
freakishly tall men in baggy bloomers.

Any gentleman
would have known

that I meant
a rousing game of croquet.

Well, they're obviously
not gentlemen.

London, why are you
hanging out with this fool?

Because there are only 24 people
between him and the throne.

If there's
a really big earthquake at Buckingham Palace,

♪ I'm the queen! ♪

- london?
- Ooh, coming!

Come on, Marcus,
let's beat these brit brats.

Hey, gimme one of those
hammer thingies.

It's called a mallet.

Hey, Mr. moseby,
what are you doing here?

Oh, I'm a huge mallet head.

You said it, not me.

It means I love croquet.

Good! Can you
tell us how to play?

Oh, it's simple!
The object of the game is to pass the ball

through a prescribed circuit
of 12 hoops and then strike the center peg.

Now if you wish to take
a half-bisque, you must wait

for a formal acknowledgment
from your opponent.

You know, a wave, a wink,
perhaps a tip of the cap.

Stop!
Hammer time.

Do I get extra points

for knocking that hat
off that old lady?

That was the queen.

- ( Queen shouts )
- Oooh!

Dang, she's got
an arm on her.

Nice throw, Lizzie!

Look! Sir Arthur
conan Doyle's chair.

Just picture him sitting there,
creating Holmes' nemesis--

the evil James moriarty.

And his wastepaper basket.

Just imagine the crumpled
pieces of brilliance that were thrown in there.

You want me to take
a picture of you next to it?

The garbage can?
No, I'm good.

Hey, sorry I'm late.

But I found a place that sells
pies with meat in them!

I mean, is it a meal?
Is it a dessert?

Do I care?
No!

Oh my gosh!

Sir Arthur conan Doyle's
first draft

of "the hound
of the baskervilles"!

On loan from the queen's
private library.

You know,
that book happens to be priceless.

So try not to fog up
the glass with your American hot-dog breath!

I'll have you know that's
british meat-pie breath.

No, he's right.
Still a little hot dog mixed in there from breakfast.

Good nose.

I think I got
the hang of this.

Ow!

Hey, good hit.

That's a matter of opinion.

Oh, crumpet girl!
One crumpet, if you please.

- Oh, thanks!
- Ah--

that cost me £1.

Ah, it'll cost
me a pound too, but it's worth it.

- Oooh, you should get one!
- I--

hey, he hit my ball!
He can't do that.

Yes, he can.
It's called a roquet.

Well, it's not
"rokay" with me.

- Hey!

Wicky, wicky,
he's my man!

So seriously,
stay away from him.

- Well played, lord wicket.
- Thank you, snively.

High-four?

They can't even
high-five right.

Yes, we can,

but we prefer to use
the fifth digit

to do this.

Well, you got beat
like a dusty rug on a clothesline.

This is even more
humiliating than the time

my pants fell down
when I was performing at Madison square garden.

20,000 people saw
your underwear?

If only I had remembered
to wear some.

Oh dear.

Well, don't worry,

there's time to catch up
in round two tomorrow.

- Except we stink.
- To high heaven.

But I can tutor you.

I was once
a croquet prodigy.

I was at the junior
championships

when there was
a tragic accident.

It was a steamy August day
in darien, Connecticut.

I put my cheek to the ground
so I could see the cut of the grass

when my partner Spencer
mistook my shaved head

for a ball.

It is oddly small
and shiny.

I was legally dead
for seven minutes!

But at least we won
the point.

I got you a present
from the gift shop.

Aww, thank you.
That is so sweet.

Uh, not you.

It's a houndstooth
bikini.

Wow, no mystery why you
want me to wear that.

Everybody stay calm.
No cause for alarm.

We--

sorry about that.
Just a temporary power outage.

That was no power outage.

Someone stole the book!

- All right, everyone relax.

Ray emit-majors,
inspector, Scotland yard.

And Cody Martin,

president,
Boston holmies.

Right, just as soon
as you've been cleared by the bobbies,

you are free to leave.

Yeah.
Come on.

Go ahead.

Stop it, stop it!

You're dusting
for fingerprints with haddonite white?

Anthracene would show up
much better on the glass.

I think I know
what I'm doing.

I've been with Scotland yard
for 25 years,

whereas you're just a kid
dressed like a loveseat.

Cody, get back in line!

Just a jiff.
The ladies can be so impatient.

With you?
I cannot imagine why.

- Come on!
- Wait.

- Give me your tweezers.
- I don't have tweezers.

I do!

Hey, if I don't pluck these
caterpillars every couple hours,

they just go pffft!

Just hand them over.

Aha!
A clothing fiber.

With this I can deduce that
the culprit is wearing...

Tweed!

They're all wearing tweed.
The entire country wears tweed.

Even the doggies
wear tweed.

Why don't you do
all of england a favor

and go visit France?

And you!
You let those kids back in again,

you'll be cleaning up
after the queen's puppies.

You'll be on doody duty.

Did you guys hear
how loud that door was?

Yes, it's a loud door.
Whoo-hoo!

- Let's go.
- Wait.

We can't leave.

I now know that
the book is still inside that exhibition hall.

How could you be so sure?

Elementary,
my dear Woody.

When the lights
went out,

- what did you hear?
- Screaming,

mostly mine.

Right.
What you did not hear

was the sound of a heavy door
opening and closing.

Therefore the thief must
have hidden the book inside that exhibition hall

intending to retrieve it later.
We have to get back in there.

Wait, give me
your magnifying glass.

Why, do you see a clue?

No, but you need to get one.
Read my lips,

let's go!

Now if a ball has been
removed from the game

under the misapprehension
that it has been pegged out,

all play is deemed
not to have occurred

and all points scored
are canceled.

Ahhh!

Wake up!

In approximately six hours

you have to face wicket
and snodgrass again. Remember them?

Yeah, how can I forget?
One of them stole my girlfriend.

London's not your girlfriend.
She barely knows your name.

So?
She barely knows her own name.

Which is one of the things
I love about her.

Mr. moseby,
don't you know any trick shots

that would guarantee
we'd win the game?

There is one.

Oh, but it's far
too risky for amateurs!

Done right, you put a tremendous
amount of spin on the ball

and you can run all of the hoops
in a single stroke.

But if you miscalculate
by even a centimeter...

You will crush every bone
in your foot.

- What's it called?
- The bone crusher.

Cool.
Let's see it.

All right, make sure

you place your foot no more
than a blade's width of grass

away from the ball,
putting the weight on the proximal phalanges.

Not the distal phalanges--
proximal phalanges.

Then you rotate
your body 60°-- not 59!

60! Then as
the mallet comes back,

you release the hip joint,

creating a tremendous
amount of torque

and as the mallet
makes contact--

owwwww!

Big Ben, that hurts!

Okay, throw a rock in the bushes
to distract the Bobby

so we can
sneak in there.

Got it.

- Ow!

Okay, the first thing
we need to look for is--

something to drink.
These chips are salty!

Oooh.

Stop!
That's poison.

Suddenly not so thirsty.

Don't put that
on the podium.

Not only is that
the crime scene,

but it's also a lovely
piece of cabinetry.

Wow, look at
that scrollwork.

It's hand beveled.

You know so much
about so many things

that I don't care about.

Okay, the lights were
only out for four seconds.

So the thief couldn't
have gotten that far.

I'll close my eyes to simulate
darkness and you time me.

Got it.

One, two, three, four.

The book is
in the bookcase.

No, the police already
searched the bookcase.

That just leaves this bust
of sir Arthur conan Doyle.

So the book
must be hidden

in what was obviously
a worthless hollow fake!

Ooops.
Nothing in that head.

Nothing in this one
either.

You two again?

Uh, I can explain.

That you broke in here,
got your greasy fries

all over the evidence
and destroyed a statue?

You have to admit--
he's one heck of a Detective.

Run!

Blue ball kisses off the yellow
and through the hoop.

Oh dear, he's about
to make another shot.

Put on your helmets
and hide your children.

- Yeah yeah yeah.
- What did I say about touching me, snively?

Sorry!

- Oh, yes!
- Oh, well played, Zachary.

Why, thank you,
marcusary.

Ignore them, snively.
We're still way ahead

and this is an easy shot.

Hey, watch this.

Loser!

Great shot, wicky!
Look how far it went.

It's out of bounds!

I must take her
back to my village.

We're badly in need
of a new idiot.

Did you hear what he said
about my london?

Hey hey hey hey!
I'm pretty sure if you hit a lord,

he's allowed to
chop off your head.

Let's just beat him.

How can we?
We're way behind.

I don't even think
it's possible.

Anything is possible.

This is croquet.

Step aside.

He's not!

He can't.
He is!

Yes!
That's my boy!

I taught him that move.

Big Ben, that hurts!

I taught him that one too.

Well, looks like
another unsolvable british mystery...

Like Jack the ripper,

or why we boil our meat.

Hey, not so fast.

That goes with me back
to the evidence locker.

- I don't think so.
- You two!

Constable,
detain these twits.

Uh, no!
I know who stole the priceless book.

You two solve the crime?

Please!
How absurd.

Is... it?

Yeah, is... it?

Are you trying to look
through a lamb chop?

We'll ask
the questions here!

For starters...
Got any mint jelly?

I got your text!
We're getting a private tour of Buckingham Palace?

- How did you swing that?
- I haven't yet.

But I'm sure to get
an invite

once I recover
the queen's missing book.

I'm about to crack
this case wide open.

Really, when are you
gonna give this up?

Yes, please, when?

As soon as I explain
to everyone

why you are the thief.

Him?
Why, he's an inspector from Scotland yard.

- I saw his badge.
- Fake! He's an imposter.

Why, he's not even british.

You dare question
my nationality?

I do!
I do dare.

Last night you were
complaining about how Woody

was making a mess
with his "fries."

Well, he was.
We brits are very fastidious.

But a brit would
call them chips.

Never fries.
I submit that you are belgian,

the same belgian
who has outbid me online

for conan Doyle's bedpan.

Belgian?
That's preposterous. My name is Ray emit-majors.

So you say.

But if you unscramble
those letters,

it spells James moriarty.

Your real name!

No!
Don't help, Watson.

James moriarty was Holmes'
arch-nemesis.

You are Belgium's number one
Sherlock Holmes collector

jean-claude benoit,
a.K.A. Waffleman221.

Well, I hate to poke holes
in your daft theory,

but I don't have the book.
Poke poke poke!

Poke all you want.

But look at this stain
on Woody's shirt.

The proof
is in the pudding.

Actually that is pudding.

Oh, no no, not that stain.

The wood stain

transferred
from your fingernails when you "escorted" us out.

The same wood stain used

to finish this
handcrafted podium,

which you've
rigged to hold...

The missing book.

Sacre bleu!

And I thought my plan
was pure genius.

No, my boyfriend
is the genius.

Ah well, at least
I don't have to speak

in a ridiculous
accent anymore.

Okay, last shot,
but we're only one point back.

So one easy hit
through the hoop, into the peg and we win.

Yes, then london
will drop lord loser

and she and I will
ride off into the sunset.

On the way can you drop
me off at the hospital?

Miss... miss miss!

Hey hey!

What? I'm merely trying
to get the attention of the crumpet girl.

Thank you.

Another mystery solved
by the Boston holmies.

In your face,
Seattle holmies.

Uh, he's getting away!

- Stop that thief!

Back off or the book
gets it in the spine!

We won!

Oh, Marcus,
that was brilliant!

Boys, I am
so proud of you.

Now if you like,
there is room for you on the American croquet team.

Truth be told,
there's room for everybody.

Because it's just me
and two guys named Spencer in Connecticut.

Oh, here's london
with my victory hug.

Marcus, you're a hero!

Yeah, I guess.

Okay, wrinkling
the rich girl. Yeah.

London, why are you
hugging this loser?

Because he's my friend.
And snively told me what you said.

By the way, your village
already has an idiot--

it's you!

I'll put you
on the croquet team too, my friend.

Good show!
I just radioed headquarters.

The queen has been informed
that you saved her book

and she's invited you for tea.

Oh, am I allowed to bring
a special guest?

What am I gonna wear?

Again, not you.

All right, come on.

This is gonna be
the best day of my life!

And it's only
going to get better. After we meet the queen,

it's off to the porcelain museum
to see Churchill's bathtub.

Oh, good.
It's been a long day.

I gotta clean up.
Let's go.

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