Original subtitles

People ask, where do you get your ideas?

Right here.

Oh, this is my magician's toy shop.

I'm Ray Bradbury, and this is...

Have you got a room?

My wife and I?

Yeah.

Thought I might get lucky.

You too.

Smartass.

Nothing doing? No.

Bad luck to bury someone in the dark.

Where did you dig that one?

It's true.

It's true as the fact that Mr. Walter Smarty Pants Bean landed us in

USA without a roof over our heads.

There must be a room free now.

What do you mean?

The guy in the hearse doesn't need it.

You watch your mouth, mocking the dead.

Don't know where it could end.

In bed, I hope. I am beat.

The last room.

You were lucky.

And no stairs to climb. Couldn't be better.

I'll take these, ma 'am. Thank you.

Are you all right, dear?

What on earth is going on?

I am leaving, checking out. Get my bill. Mr. Whitmore, why?

Not why.

Why? It should have been a why.

What a waste.

Follow me.

Oh, my dear.

I feel it coming.

Tonight we will have no fifth place of repose. Keep it a rest, Leota. We'll

a place, no problem.

That's three no problems so far, Walter.

You lack patience, Leota.

For Walter Bean, a problem posed is a problem solved.

What a lucky girl you were, Leota.

To find Mr.

Right. Oh, sorry.

Mr. Always Right.

Mr. Meal Ticket.

Don't forget that.

Mr. Five Buck Limit.

Even when you were Salesman of the Year, 1981.

This will be the one you want to bet.

Yoda, we're in.

The room only just fell vacant. You were lucky.

I usually am.

It's only bad luck if you broke it, Yoda.

You haven't been here with someone else, have you? Follow me.

Here we are.

Great joke, Walter.

Guilty, ma 'am.

Oh, you and him, huh?

Leota, I didn't... You're too dumb.

First prize for observation.

He knows, I know, and you are about to know I'm not moving into any room with

any dead things.

Leota. Ma 'am, you don't mean... What, that there's a dead body under there?

Says so, doesn't it? Give me a break, Leota. This is crazy even for you.

I won't sleep in any room with any corpse.

Honey, get him out of here.

Tell her, will you?

Tell me. I didn't know.

Tombstone, Mrs. Bean, of the finest black marble. What is this, a sales

Belongs to Mr. Wetmore. The name carved in that finest black marble is white.

Certainly, that's the man's name for whom the stone was carved.

And he is dead.

See there? Dead and buried. Right here.

It even smells like a cemetery.

Mr. Wetmore, former tenant of this room.

He died, too?

was an apprentice to a marble cutter. Oh, dear me, he's even left his hammer

chisel. Was that his funeral we saw tonight? No.

He discouraged himself.

What kind of an affliction is that? He made a mistake.

We all do, excepting Walter here.

White is the name here spelled wrong.

Should be with a Y, not an I. White.

Oh, Mr. Whitmore, he gave up.

Inferiority complex.

Careful. That is an expression my husband does not understand.

Walter, what are you commencing?

I am unpacking.

We're not staying.

Mr. Whitmore used to get very upset when he made errors. How refreshing.

Everything had to be just right.

He got a letter once.

Whitmore, spelled with two T's.

Put it right back in the mailbox side. No such person living here.

Like Mr.

White. Right.

I've got some men coming with a dolly who'll remove it first thing in the

morning. You won't mind sleepyheading one night with it, will you? Of course

not.

The little lady gets some funny ideas sometimes.

See, Leota?

No dead men.

Thirty bucks, right? Yeah.

I don't believe this.

Thanks, Mr. Bean. Have a good night.

This is a haunt.

Ma 'am.

Walter, like all practical jokers, you have a lousy sense of humor.

This is not funny. It is nothing. It's something left in a perfectly okay room.

A piece of marble with a word on it.

I'm as surprised as you are to find it here, but it's not going to ruin my

night.

Now, 200 miles to travel tomorrow, and then that pitch to Howard.

So please shut up. I am going to sleep.

As usual.

I wouldn't bank on that.

Mr. Whitmore, not looking for your room back again, are you? No.

I left my hammer and chisel. I was so upset.

Yeah, I have them.

Right here.

I'm getting rid of the stone in the morning.

Terrible waste.

A beautiful piece of marble.

A couple took your room just after you left, Mrs... Mr. Bean.

Well, at least it isn't going to waste.

It'll be open in time.

Certainly, madam. Just opposite the railway station.

Open till midnight.

Thank you.

Your husband, is he okay?

Oh, yes, thank you. He'll be fine. We just ran out of his medicine.

You know something?

I don't think he likes waste either. Who?

Mr. Bean?

You know him?

Not Mr. Bean.

He?

Capital H.

Okay, Leora, you're not coming to bed. I get the message, but please put out the

damn light.

None of the three of us.

Three?

We'll get any sleep tonight.

I don't believe you anymore.

That meant the two of us.

Oh, man, Walter.

You know that tombstone really upsets me. But you don't. You can't be

Be quiet.

Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It is dark.

Good night.

Night.

It's only me, dear.

How do you feel?

Good evening, ma 'am.

Hi.

Is it okay if I cut some flowers?

Oh, I'm sure the landlord won't mind.

It's good to see them appreciated and put to use.

Oh, don't mind me. I'm just waiting for someone.

Thanks.

Why is the light still on?

What's going on?

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadows of danger,

yet I... What are you doing there?

No, sir.

I shall not step on your grave.

What in heaven's name do you think you're doing?

No man's going to rest easy with strangers sleeping right on top of them,

Walter.

I just made amends with him, that's all. Flowered his bed so he wouldn't lie

around rubbing his bones together late tonight.

Foolish woman.

Walter.

Wake up. Wake up. What's wrong?

It's Mr. White.

He's starting to haunt us.

I'll go to sleep, darling. It's true.

Listen to him.

You hear?

You hear?

Shut up so I can hear.

Don't tip over the flowers. Shut up.

You are the stupidest woman. That's the man downstairs.

That's what I mean.

Mr. White.

No, not Mr. White. We have neighbors down under.

Listen.

That's the man's wife.

She's probably telling him not to look at another man's wife.

Both of them probably drunk.

You're lying.

It's a haunt, I tell you.

That dead man, Mr. White, hates us for moving in with him.

Listen. Too drunk for having a fight.

He's stirring in his coffin.

He's really mad at us, Walter.

If we don't get out of here tonight, we'll both be dead by tomorrow.

I really am scared.

Those footsteps didn't come up any stairs.

They came up right through here.

Walter, he's forced his way out of his tube.

And he's trapped at the arrow, Barry.

This is a three -story building. We have neighbors downstairs who are having a

fight. And we have neighbors upstairs who have just come in.

No. You don't understand.

Come on.

What are you doing?

We are going upstairs to meet them folks. Then we're going downstairs to

that drunkard his wife to shut up.

And you can tell them why we have to prove who they are.

Hello?

Hello?

There aren't any neighbors.

Maybe it was the landlord storing something.

Nothing living locked up here, Walter.

Hello?

Let me out! Let me out! Why, Mrs. B?

She thought she heard something.

Good ears.

It was a damn cat.

I was doing my rounds, heard a noise up here, and she came shooting out.

Hey, maybe that's what set her off.

Jesus. My teddy bears.

My cat. They're serious.

Yoda.

Your husband... Walter?

The cat and the ventilator.

The theater near you.

You have been warned.

Stop it, Walter.

Do you want to check downstairs now?

I'm not going down into that grave.

Sorry. Sorry.

My name is Mr. Fritmore.

Bean. Walter Bean. I went away.

Yes. And now I'm back. I have just had the most astonishing stroke of luck.

Is my poontong still here?

Oh, yes.

Yes, it is.

Hello again, ma 'am. Hi.

The flowers.

What a lovely idea.

Thanks.

I have got a dolly downstairs, and if you don't mind, I will take the

out of here at this very moment. It won't take a minute. Great. Glad to be

of the damn thing. Wheel her up.

Fine.

Okay, Mr. Parks, come on up.

Hey, it's Mr. White again.

Come on in.

In here.

There she is.

The most amazing thing.

A short while ago, I was lost, defeated, dejected.

Then a miracle happened.

A miracle?

Oh, yes.

Just half an hour since I heard, quite by chance, of a Mr. White who had just

died. A Mr. White, mind you, who spout his... spout his name with an I instead

of a Y.

I have just contacted his wife, and she is delighted that a tombstone is already

prepared. I just have to add the epitaph.

Mr. White, not cold more than 30 minutes and spelling his name with an I. Just

think of it.

I'm so happy.

Give it up, Leota, you're lost.

Morning. Morning.

The day shift?

You got it.

Did the landlord tell you that I paid in advance?

Yes, he did, and thank you, sir.

Room key.

Thank you.

Yes, ma 'am. You know the man who was in that room?

Uh -huh.

I've been checked out.

Right.

I always advise the bereaved to see how the stone will look in its final resting

place.

Is this satisfactory, Mrs. White?

Yes, it is.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

You mean rat?

What you going to do that for?

Luck, I guess.

Luck.