Original subtitles

People ask, where do you get your ideas?

Well, right here.

All this is my Martian landscape.

Somewhere in this room is an African veldt.

Just beyond, perhaps, is a small Illinois town where I grew up. And I'm

surrounded on every side by my magician's toy shop.

I'll never starve here.

I just look around, find what I need, and begin.

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

Well then, right now, what shall

it be?

Out of all this, what do I choose to make the story?

I never know where the next one will take me.

The trip?

Exactly one half exhilaration, exactly one half terror.

I am Matilda Hanks.

This is my castle.

I have waited amongst my clocks and pictures for many years.

I'll not give in.

Oh, no.

One day he'll come.

But this is my castle.

I've all my ammunition here.

Oh, he'll come, but he's no charm.

I'll not give in, oh no.

are coming into my house.

Now, just hold on there.

What are you doing?

Who are these people?

Are you delivering?

I didn't order anything.

You're not bringing something here.

Did you hear what I said?

If you want to talk to me, well, you can talk.

But in the meantime, you don't mind if I pour myself tea?

I would have offered you some if you'd been more polite.

But you come in here, high and mighty, with never a buy or leave.

You think you own the place.

There.

You've made me lose count.

Now, start again.

Tell me the things you've got to tell me.

I'll pay attention.

But no smarts.

And stop staring at me with that funny look in your eyes.

Good Lord, it gives me the heebie -jeebies.

Now, about that wicker basket and those

four men.

You don't need them to carry that. Why, it's light as thistles.

Where have I seen a wicker like that before?

Oh, yes.

It was when Mrs. Dwyer passed away next door.

So that's what you're up to.

Right.

You just sit there till my Emily comes home.

She'll take care of you, young man.

She'll shoo you out so soon, you...

Let me tell you about Emily.

My fair, sweet child.

I remember the day her mother died.

Twenty years ago, leaving Emily to me.

Who ever heard of people dying for good reason?

That's why I get so angry with you and your wicker.

You ain't told me. What's it got to do with your life?

Papa? Why don't you settle down?

Marry. Raise a family.

I like laughing and singing and playing.

I'm not the marrying kind.

But I can't find a man with my philosophy, Papa.

What philosophy is that?

That death is ridiculous.

But, Papa, just once I did find a man with my philosophy.

Oh, my darling.

Just once.

But what can we do?

Fight. Kick it below the belt.

Don't believe in it.

Oh, and that man.

He liked laughing and singing.

And I'm starting my own philosophy here and now.

Why, Philly, the people only live a couple of years and then get shoved like

seeds in a hole that nothing sprouts.

What good do they do?

Lie there a million years, helping no one.

Most of them fine, nice, decent people.

Or at least trying to be.

But more than you, my dearest papa, and more than dearest mama.

I lost my darling.

But you weren't listening, Papa.

You just faded away like a photograph left out in the sun.

Stay after he was told.

It would have denied my foolishness.

I lost my darling.

He stole him.

He took him.

That thief stole him away.

He did.

He did. He did.

I never got married.

I was afraid of living with a man 20 or 30 years and then having him up and die

on me.

It would have shaken my convictions like a house of cards.

I shunned the world.

I screamed at people so much as mentioned death.

How do you know all those things?

If you think you can talk me into that silly wicker basket, you're off your

trolley.

You lay hands on me and I'll...

Don't simper like a sick dog.

I'm too old to be made love to.

That's all twisted dry like an old tube of paint and left behind in the years.

Young man.

You are refused.

Because I'm all of a piece I add up.

I've been fighting you all my life.

I won't give in now. This is my castle, my fortress. All my ammunition is here.

I've been getting ready for you for years. You haven't a chance.

Are you just going to sit there, young man?

Don't you move from that chair.

Don't you come creeping around me. I'm just going to close my eyes for a

There.

There.

You aren't getting up out of that chair, are you?

Better not.

I'll keep one eye open for you.

Yes, indeed I will.

Indeed I will.

Oh, Beverly.

So deep.

Oh, no.

Underwater on.

Who's that moving about in the dark with my eyes closed?

Who's that kissing my cheek?

Emily?

What did you say?

Are you leaving so soon, young man?

Had to give up, didn't you?

Couldn't convince me.

No, I'm stubborn as a mule.

Never get me out of this house, so don't bother coming back to try.

And you can stop looking like the cat that got the canary.

And get that crazy wicker basket out of here.

Just a minute.

If you steal my books, my... my pictures, my... my books!

What have you got in there?

No, no, you don't!

Men with a maggoty ideas.

Never mind about the wicked.

Doesn't matter so long as they leave me alone.

Oh, here comes Emily.

About time, too.

Pale and wan, she looks.

Walking so slowly.

I wonder why.

Oh, she looks worried. She clearly does.

Poor girl.

I'll make some tea.

Emily!

Emily, I've been waiting for you.

It was the stupidest man here with a wicker basket trying to sell me

didn't want.

I'm so glad you're home. It'll make it all cosier again.

Emily, what's wrong?

Stop staring like that.

Here.

Out for you.

There.

Now, sit this. Sit this, child.

Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt

Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt

Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt

Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt

Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt Tilde. Aunt

Aunt Tilde.

Aunt Tilde. Aunt T

The next rapist.

That sneak thief.

That dark -eyed, dark thief. He stole it. He did. He ran off.

He did, he did, he did.

Child.

Just part of me's here, but it'll have to do for a bit. I'll fit my hat and

clothes. I'm not wrong yet.

What are you going to do, Aunt Tilde?

Do? Get my body back, of course.

Oh, my God!

Stop!

Stop whatever you're doing! Stop!

Where is it, huh?

Where?

Where is it?

It's... That which you robbed and stole.

You were a relative of the deceased.

No, she's me.

She's me.

Can you stop him? Stop.

I'm sorry.

You haven't begun to be sorry. Stand aside, sir, I say.

No, no, you wouldn't want to see.

Has he started? Has he begun already?

You, you in there, stop.

Stop, I say.

I do not wish to use force, madam.

Neither do I.

Possibly be a new word.

How much have you done already?

Dear God, I've been drawn and quartered. Not mine.

You want your sister back?

No.

I say this just once and no more.

That pound of flesh is mine.

I claim it, and if you don't hand it back... What will you do, madam?

Then I will loiter about your premises.

I will howl and scream.

I will tell the world you are body snatchers.

Gravestone robbers.

Death stealers. Your establishment will no longer comfort, but will set people

ill at ease.

Too much wind here at midnight.

Too many strange sounds.

Terrible sights of walking mist.

Movable feasts of fog and rain.

Moans and sighs.

The trees walking on the air.

Right then.

Any objections?

Madam, the body is yours.

All in one thing.

Soon back up.

You hear?

Jump to it.

All in.

Nice and neat.

A fine needle and thread.

Put me where I can get into me.

Come on, look alive.

Careful, careful.

I'm glass.

I'll break.

Steady.

Now take a deep breath.

In, in.

Now exhale down.

Toes. Feet.

Ankles.

Take hold.

Knees and thighs.

Attention. Take hold.

Oh, God.

Fingers. Hands.

Arms. Grab.

Fix and finish in face.

Heart.

Beat.

Lung.

Suck.

It has been a long fight, and I have won.

I am empress of my castle.

Emily is back in college and comes, if somewhat nervously, to visit.

My fine paintings and clocks sell well.

Perhaps because I am the most curious antique of all.

People come to stare as well as to buy.

And if people ask politely, I just undo this

and show them the marks where that crazy funeral autopsy man

sewed me right back up again.

Not bad sewing from men.

Not bad sewing for a man.