All language subtitles for Dr.Sanders.Sleep.Cure.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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- Thank you
for purchasing this tape,

crafted to aid you
with sleeping disorders

and ensure a restful night.

If you are listening to this,

it means you have exhausted
your usual methods.

Counting sheep, meditation,
and masturbation.

This is insomnia.

Insomnia is a serious
concern that if neglected,

can lead to emotional distress,
mental and physical decline,

various forms of
madness, and even death.

So, what makes this
treatment method special?

It's all about you.

In your dreams, you can
be whoever you wish,

be your own hero.

Now, feel your
eyelids grow heavy,

and let the rhythm of my voice

serenade you into a
state of pure relaxation.

And soon enough, you'll
awaken rejuvenated,

and filled with
positive vitality.

Now, attune your
inner vibrations

to the serenity of silence.

Often, all it takes to
gracefully drift into sleep

is soothing, relaxing music.

Are you prepared? Or perhaps
you're already snoring.

Just kidding.

Here we go.

♪ Moments in silence
when lose their meaning ♪

♪ All disappearing, unheard ♪

♪ Even in silence,
let's go on believing ♪

- There.

The orchestra is playing.

I'm sure that will
make it easier.

- I don't know.

- Oh, come on!

You'll be able to fool everyone.

- But I don't want
to fool anyone.

- Dr. Fabricius said that you
need to get out at one point,

and I agree with him.

- I wish I hadn't come.

- Oh, nonsense!

Oh, there.

That's the song
you like so much.

Oh, come on in before it's over.

- Welcome back, Miss Bea.

- Miss Bea.

We have sorely missed you.

I have your old table
reserved, if you would.

Some champagne to start with?

- Yes, please

Relax, Bea.

- Look at them.

They all know.

They all long for
something to happen.

- Nothing will happen.

- I'm sorry, I can't.

- Fight it.

Bea, fight it.

- Perhaps it was too early,

but you've shown
immense improvements
during the last month.

- You're fooling the both of us.

- Oh, come now!

In time, you will
learn to control it.

- I don't want to control it.

I want to be free at last.

Doctor...

Be honest with me.

Can you cure me?

- To be honest...

I'm not even sure
your problem lies

within the capabilities
of psychiatry.

- Are you finally ready
to call this problem

by its proper name?

A curse.

- I'm confident all you
need is a good, long rest.

Why not leave town for a while?

- It irritates you, doesn't it?

Gives you a headache.

Can't wait for me to go.

- It's just...

I've never been much
of a music lover.

- Spare me the explanation.

I will go.

Perhaps we'll meet.

Perhaps.

"Nora dear,

I know now that this
torment will never end.

I brought this on myself,
and I would need to end it.

Don't look for me.
You won't find me.

Let this curse die with me."

Yes?

- Sorry, miss.

An unscheduled stop.

We appear to be snowbound.

- For how long?

- I really don't know, Miss.

It may take a while.

- Look, I have a request.

- Of course, Miss.

- This letter...

Could you post it
somewhere very far?

At the terminus.

- Yes, of course, but why?

- What is this place?

- It used to be a very
popular ski resort.

- A hotel?

- Yeah, many years ago.

I really don't know how
they manage now though.

Do you know that new,
posh resort up the road

one hour away from here?

With all the nightclubs
and concert halls,

luring the rich people.

I really don't know.

But, but, but...

But you're not planning
to get off here, Miss?

- This might be my
final destination.

- But, the darkness!
And the snow, Miss!

- Miss?

- May I also see today's paper?

Seems to be interesting.

- Anything else, Miss?

- Perhaps some more wine.

What the heck...

Bring me the whole bottle.

- Is Miss quite sure?

It's getting rather late.

- Ooh, la la.

Afraid you'll have
to carry me to bed?

- Really, Miss?

Comedy music?

- Look, I'm sorry.

I can't control it.

Honestly, I meant no offense.

- None taken, I'm sure.

- Hello?

Excuse me.

Sir?

Do you hear it?

- Do you?

- I hear nothing, Miss.

- Exactly.

Silence.

But how can that be?

- Why shouldn't that be?

- I had forgotten
how beautiful it is.

I haven't heard it for a year.

- I'm glad that you enjoy it.

It's all I ever hear.

- How I envy you.

But what do you mean?

- A bomb, in Guernica.

- You were fighting in Spain?

- Should have killed
me, but didn't.

Took my hearing though.

- You...

You're deaf?

- As a stone, Miss.

- But how could you...

- I get that a lot.

It's not very
difficult to read lips

once you've had time to train.

- So, you don't hear?

- Absolutely nothing.

- But how can it be
that in your vicinity...

- What?

- My name is Miss Clement.

Perhaps you've heard of me.

I'm afraid I made headlines
on several locations.

- Oh, yes. Miss Clement.

The heiress to the
Clement millions.

The girl who spooked
the horses at Ascot.

- Animals don't like me.

"The devil's mistress."

Ever since-

- Ever since the
composer, Ronier, your...

- You can say it.

My abusive lover.

- He was killed, wasn't he?

- Yes.

- Shot.

By you.

- It was ruled
self-defense. I thought...

I thought I was free.

But since that date,

as if his blood infected
me with his devilish music,

it became his curse
and my punishment.

Who are you?

- No one, really.

My dreams of being a violinist
shattered in Guernica.

- What's your name?

- I'm Damian.

- I'm Bea.

I don't know how this
is possible, but...

But with you, I feel free of
this endless Dance Macabre.

- I would love to
hear that music...

- But I can't let you go.

I need you to give
me silence, forever.

- I'd gladly share it with you.

- Are you staying here?

- In the cheapest room.

- Would you...

Stay with me tonight?

- If you want me to.

- I want you to.

It's dark.

Your eyes are closed.

How easy it makes that.

Damian...

I love you.

I love you.

I'm yours forever.

You give me silence,
I give you my love.

You've saved me.

Nora!

- Bea!

- And when the
gentleman arrives,

show him here immediately.

I have his tickets.

- Yes, of course.

- What?

Bea...

- Yes.

Yes, it's true.

- But how? Since when?

- Since I've met Damian.

- Who is he?

And why this mysterious telegram

to take the first train
and meet you here?

I didn't even know you were
planning to visit this resort.

- I wrote you a stupid
letter last night.

- What letter?

- Oh, it's probably
still in mail,

but everything has
changed since yesterday.

Nora...

I'm so in love.

- I'm happy for you,
of course, but...

What do you know about this man?

- Only one thing.

He took Ronier's
cursed music from me.

Forever.

- And where is this
mysterious stranger then?

He should be here any minute.

- I wanted to be at this
concert so very much..

Now that I can really
enjoy music again.

- Yes! To hear Fritz
Kreisler himself play,

its worthy, the long trip.

- And he was ready
to accompany me,

even though he won't
be to enjoy it.

- Why not?

Who cannot enjoy it?

Oh, it begins!

- I'm sorry Miss Clement.

It somehow slipped my mind.

- Yes?

- Was the gentleman you are
expecting called Mr. Damian?

- Yes, he is.

- I'm so sorry, but he won't
be able to join you tonight.

- Oh, I'm so sorry, Bea dear.

- How do you know that?

- He called the
theater a while ago,

and I happen to
answer the telephone.

- But what do you
mean he called you?

- He asked me to
give you a message.

It was rather strangely,
"Thank you for the music."

- Enjoy the concert, ladies.

- But it can be right...

- I'm sure he'll
meet us afterwards.

- No, no. That he called here.

- He couldn't have.

Nora, you see, he's...

- Still awake?

Don't worry, I shall soon
put you to your rest.

Silence doesn't
work for everyone.

Often, one needs a reassuring
background of familiar setting

to help you feel
sheltered and safe.

What setting do you most enjoy?

Is it the laughter of
children on a summer beach?

Is it a litter of
kittens mewing happily?

Is it watching a fun, old
horror film at midnight?

Ah, that's it.

Let's make it a
vintage horror flick,

with all the familiar tropes.

Witches, demons, and
damsels in distress.

Perhaps you are a dashing
young hero with curly hair,

saving her from the
clutches of evil.

- "I wish to
God that I were wrong.

I wish that these were just
foolish fancies of an old man."

- I hope this row
doesn't bother you, sir.

Everybody just wants
to get drunk tonight.

It's this awful shooting
star in the skies.

- Oh...

My dear.

I was young once.

Let them enjoy life,
while they can.

- Need another?

- Well...

I'm afraid I'm running
short on coins.

- What if it was on the house?

- Now, my dear, why
would you do that?

- They say you are
the town's astronomer.

- Astronomer,
astrologer, alchemist.

But what use is that to you?

- Perhaps you can
tell me my future.

- Oh, my dear.

Sadly, a fortune
teller, I am not.

- Men come here to drink,
to fight, to make love.

I haven't seen one
who comes to write.

- Some secrets are
too heavy a burden

to carry them to your grave.

- Secrets?

Care to share?

- Alas, I cannot.

Not yet.

- You!

- Hey, that's enough!

You will not get
rid of me so easily.

Now, drink your wine,

while I get rid of
these troublemakers.

- Yeah!

- No swords in the tavern!

Get out! Everybody!

That's enough! The
tavern is closed!

Get out! Off with you!

You, you, you, you. Out!

And you, you in the
Russian Army, get out!

Out, now!

- Ooh, surely, I can stay?

- Not tonight, darling.

I don't feel so well.

- "Life's fleeting
brevity is sacrificed

to its crushing vanity."

Ah...

Would you care to
join me in that drink?

- Oh, I feel a little off color.

Now, good sir,
share your secrets.

- Shared secrets
are a double burden.

And words can be more
dangerous than soft.

- Fret not.

I kick men thrice my size from
this very tavern every night.

Words do not scare me.

- You're new here
in town, aren't you?

- Been keeping that inn
for the past year now.

Never seen you here before.

- Never been here before.

However, it was my grandfather

who frequented this
tavern in his day,

and it was he who
told me a story

that made me come here tonight.

- About this very tavern?

- Mhm.

- Go on, good sir.

Make my blood curdle.

- It happened when my
grandfather was a young man.

75 years ago, one eve,
very much like this,

the maid locked
up for the night.

Now, she was no wallflower,

but a strong-willed
woman, much like yourself,

and like yourself, she
lived above this tavern.

- Me likes her already.

- When she had locked
up, she fed the poultry,

and returned to wait
for her husband.

But this was to be
like no other night,

for this was the night of
the appearance of the comet.

- Best stay back.

Stay back, I tell ye!

I shan't take no tomfoolery now!

No!

Please, no!

- Do not, sir, end there.

How do you know such things?

- A random passerby heard
the tavern wench's screams.

- Your grandfather?

- Is this where you live, Agnes?

Above the tavern?

I do.

- Lock your chamber door.

Do not open it for
anyone, or anything.

I should stand guard till morn,

till your husband gets back.

- Kind sir, those demons...

- I don't know what they were,

but they were surely not demons.

Go.

Agnes!

Agnes!

- She was found
dead in her chamber

with her unborn child
cut from her belly.

- Is that the chamber
that I occupy?

Oh, Lord, protect us, no.

Who were they?

- None knows.

But these creatures
were never seen again.

And yet, my grandfather never
stopped looking for them.

And now it is time for
me to assume his work.

- Now?

But why, after all these years?

Is it because of
the shooting star?

- You're right, my child.

This comet returns
every 75 years.

- And with it, the demons?

- I thought they might, but
the comet is almost gone,

and they're nowhere to be seen.

- But why did they
want the child?

- Have you ever wondered
why this tavern is called

the Badburn Inn?

- I have, but to none
seems to know that.

- I do.

Before this cabin was built,

this was the spot where they
used to burn the witches.

- You're having me on, sir.

- One night, one and
a half centuries ago,

a particularly malignant witch

was burned at the
stake in this spot.

Now, she was said
to have consorted

with a Prince of Darkness,
who got her with child.

- She was with child?

- But this was no
ordinary human child.

The witnesses saw it
glow in her belly,

like a furnace from hell.

So, this witch was captured
and condemned to burn.

- Thus it is decreed
that thou, Minerva,

who has consorted
with the devil,

shall be purged by fire,

and thine ashes shall
be cast upon the sea.

The flames that doth engulf
thee shall stand as a warning

to all who dare to tread
the path to darkness.

- Give us a kiss...

- Let
these flames...

- Will you?

- Cleanse our community.

Purifying it...

- You know you want to.

- From the stain
of vile witchcraft,

May we emerge from this
trial stronger, united,

and more vigilant
than ever before.

There is no limit
to thine evil witch.

Hast thou aught to say,

ere we commit you
to the trust of God?

No fire destroys the
child of the Master.

One day, when the star returns,

this child shall be born,

and he shall wreak
havoc upon the world

as no child has before!

- What art thou waiting, man?

Do thine duty!

Do it, now!

- So, these demons might
not be demons at all?

- I've come to
think they are not.

I think they are trying
to undo a disaster.

But this child might one
day unleash upon the world.

The child that's
destined to born here

in the year of a comet.

- So, do you think
that these creatures

might come from the future?

- I have a reason
to believe that.

This is the only real evidence

of a story I told you
ever taking place.

- Now, I understand why
you have been observing me

the whole evening.

But, fear not.

These demons will have
to leave empty handed.

- How's that, my child?

- I'm barren.

My womb will never bear a child.

And I'm the only
woman in this house.

- Perhaps then, I can
put my mind at ease.

- I'm sure you can.

- In that case, fair maiden...

There is no reason for me to
protect you from any demons.

- Did you hope there would be?

- I hoped to God I was wrong.

And...

It appears I was.

- Have a safe night, sir!

But I'm not...

Now, off with you.

I have a tavern to open.

- Can I come back tonight?

- You can come, until
I get tired of you.

That might take a while.

- Come on, we still have time.

Time for a quick one?

- Shite!

- This dream was
sponsored by NAPocalypse.

♪ Keep that NAPocalypse ♪

♪ Sleep at your fingertips ♪

♪ Run, run, run ♪

- When the
world wreaks havoc,

NAPocalypse ends it all.

Still awake?

Don't worry.

Imagine yourself in a
most beautiful garden,

hidden in the far
away mountains,

where every flower
is like a dream.

Their sweet fragrance
makes your head dizzy.

You just want to lay
down on the fresh petals,

and purr like a kitten.

And in the middle of that
magic garden, there's a well.

Its cool waters have a taste
of kiss from your first love,

of youth and beauty.

- Mind you, this isn't the
Grand Hotel or anything.

We're just a
wayward village inn.

We haven't had a
visitor for, whew...

The best part of 10 years.

So mind you, the
food is probably not
what you're used to.

- Smells just fine.

- Imagine that.

A young woman,
traveling all alone.

- Women do travel alone.

After all, it is the 1900s.

- Yes, but you're not
from these parts, are you?

- No, I'm from Prussia.

- Fancy that.

Can you say something
in Prussian?

- What should I say?

- Well, how about...

"It's so beautiful
here in the mountains."

- Oh, lovely.

So, you'll be taking the
morning coach to the south?

- Yes.

- And will your family
be meeting you there?

- I don't have any family.

- Oh, dear.

How can that be?

- Well, if you must know,

my father died and
left me some money.

So, I decided to travel.

- You should go to the castle.

- I should do what?

- Go to the castle, tonight.

If you hurry now, you'll
be back before sunset.

- I feel rather tired,

so I might head
to bed very soon.

- Do you like art?
Old master paintings?

- Of course.

- There you go.

The Count has a unique
collection of portraits.

All the ladies of the
castle that ever lived.

They say that they're
the most beautiful ladies

that have ever been captured
on paintings in the world.

- Really?

- Mm.

- And the Count...

He's so charming,
and very cultured.

He always welcomes visitors,
especially pretty ladies.

- I really don't
feel like walking.

- Oh, it's just 10 minutes walk.

You go straight out,

and you walk through
the meadow of flowers.

Just imagine!

All that beauty.

The low sun paints
the meadow with gold.

You slide your fingers
over the sleepy flowers,

sending off swarms
of butterflies.

Maybe you pick a bunch.

The smell of lavender
and summer sunset.

The wind ruffling
your lovely hair.

And then, the castle,
with a special garden.

Just imagine.

- Oh, I must have...

- You were just
daydreaming, dear.

- But it felt so real.

- It's just in your imagination.

Maybe it's the hunger.

Eat your lovely porridge.

- Imagine that.

A young woman, traveling alone.

We haven't had a visitor here

for the best part
of 10 years now.

You must find us
terribly old fashioned.

- I am merely passing through.

- Aren't we all, my dear?

And yet, tempted to stay.

- To stay?

- You haven't seen our garden.

It's the most remarkable garden.

- I really think
I should be going.

- And here we are!

Our gallery of beauties.

All the ladies of the castle,

dating back more than 400 years.

- That's truly amazing.

- I tell you, you
would be amazed.

- This is the most remarkable
collection I have ever seen.

Who painted these?

- My ancestors.

The men in our family
have the talent

of capturing female beauty.

- But they all look so sad.

- Oh, no.

They have found peace
in our secret garden.

- But who would paint
an empty chair? Why?

- Oh, this is my painting.

It's not finished yet.

I never quite found
the perfect sitter.

Would you see yourself
sitting in that chair?

- Me?

- Yes. Imagine
yourself sitting there.

- I think I really
should be going.

- Humor me.

Imagine yourself in
a perfect garden,

where nothing ever bothers you,

where time stands still, where
you'll find eternal peace.

Our garden is a
very special one.

It has a fountain
of eternal youth.

As long as a maiden
end as it willingly...

The fountain will never run dry.

- Am I imagining this?

- No, I am.

Oh...

The fountain runs again.

- How
did the fresh streams

of that magical
fountain make you feel?

I am quite sure you
feel unburdened.

Your heart lighter,

but your eyelids even
heavier than before.

You feel the weight of
a happy, fulfilled life.

Like a sweet burden of love
that everyone feels for you,

because you are worth it.

Let me teach you a good trick

to make your brain
purring sleepily,

like a kitten playing
with a new toy.

Imagine yourself speaking

and even thinking in
a strange language.

Imagine yourself
being very, very old,

and looking back at
your younger days,

and all the adventures
of your youth.

- Oh...

- Marzanna!

Oh.

- Welcome to the
B-side of the sleep cure tape,

and thank you for being with us

to enjoy Dr.
Sander's Sleep Cure,

guaranteed to put you to rest.

♪ Sleep well ♪

- Approved
by Mr. Sandman.

Let's celebrate
this moment together

by remembering the most
beautiful moments of our life.

Let me take a guess.

It's being in love!

Perhaps even confessing your
feelings to your chosen one,

making your intentions
known to her, him, them.

Try to capture the essence of
that single fleeting moment

when he, she, they said "yes".

Hold on to it, relive it.

Over and over and over.

- Hello. No one is
available to take your call.

Please leave a message
after the tone.

- Good evening.

Detective Sander here again.

I wanted to personally confirm

that you are no longer
considered a suspect

in the investigation.

It has been proven that you
were indeed in St. Petersburg

until February 10th.

However, your husband
was last seen on the 6th,

when he received a
registered package.

We investigated the package,

and discovered that it
was in fact sent by you

from an auction house
in St. Petersburg.

The item was allegedly a
expensive antique mirror

that belonged to none other
than Rasputin, the warlock.

We weren't aware
that your husband

had an interest in antiques,

but that's beside the point.

We're doing everything we
can to find him quickly.

Don't lose hope.

- Until the silver tarnishes,

may the chains keep you bound.

Oh, by the way, darling...

There is someone behind you.

- Ah, the sweet
memories that allow us to sleep.

Still awake?

Don't worry.

Sleep is at your fingertips.

Everything you've ever dreamt of

is at the reach of your hand.

Love, happiness, money.

Let's try some number counting,
but not just any numbers.

Imagine you're counting the
winning numbers of a lottery

you've always yearned to win.

In your current state
of lucid dreaming,

you are one with the universe.

You are tapped into the
universal well of knowledge.

Now is the time to
manifest the numbers

that win the next sweepstake.

Say them in your mind,
and see them come true.

And go!

- 3.

- 2.

- 21.

- 25.

- 17.

- 45.

- Oh, fuck off.

- 56.

61.

83.

- So, I repeat...

Today's winning numbers are...

2, 25, 45, 56, 61, and 83.

Those of you who got
all six numbers right,

the universe will provide
with six months supply

of the frequencies
between 311 and 392 hertz.

The same reward will today
be bestowed upon those

whose efficiency factor for
the week is higher than 180.

Please receive.

Well, what about
those who have failed

in their duties
before our universe?

The bottom margin for the
week has been set at 92.5.

That means if your efficiency
factor shows below that,

there will be a punishment
in store for you.

The unachieving citizens
will be deprived

of the frequencies between
415 and 554.5 hertz

for two weeks.

Let that loving punishment
motivate you to do your duty

before our universe.

Be ready to relinquish.

- I told you so.

Why can't you contribute
like all of us do?

How come I'm able to
maintain a hundred,

and you can't even
drag yourself up 92.5!

Look what you've done now!

Now you've upset the baby!

My mom warned me about you.

That you were gonna turn out
a good-for-nothing layabout!

Am I supposed to keep
the family going?

Oh, perhaps I should
go back to my parents!

At least they're
proper citizens!

My dad has done 175
point weeks in his day!

That's something you
wouldn't dream of, would it?

- Thank you, fuckin' universe.

- Truly...

Is there a sweeter sound
than the laughter of a child?

Well, yes.

The sweet sound of snoring.

And that's where we're
headed, to a land of dreams.

You're listening to Dr.
Sanders Sleep Cure sessions,

scientifically proven to
end your life of insomnia.

Imagine this tape as your
golden ticket to dreamland.

The VIP pass to a red carpet

of Academy Award
ceremony of sleep.

We're not just talking
about any old sleep,

we're talking about
a sleep so deep,

even your dreams need
a GPS to find you.

Truly.

This is the Slumber Nirvana,

with its endless Garden of Eden.

- God damn.

There's something in my boot.

- What? Like a pebble?

- More like a...

Bullet.

Yeah.

Two millimeter Kolibri.

- Oh.

- Not enough to kill a man,

sure enough to be
a pain in the...

Boot.

- Do you wanna
pause for a moment?

- Why?

- To remove the bullet.

- It takes more than
a Kolibri to stop me.

Nah.

We need to reach the
Ministry before it gets dark.

- Do you suppose there's
someone there though?

The whole place looks
rather abandoned.

- There's always
someone at the Ministry.

Wait...

- What?

- The bloody thing has grown.

- The Ministry?

- The bullet.

Bloody hell!

I think it's four
millimeters now.

Oh, no.

Eight millimeters.

A good thing I got
it out in time, huh?

- That's weird.

- Weirder things happen in war.

- I mean, it might
sound stupid, but...

Can it be that we're both dead?

- That's what occurred to me.

And I think I might
have killed you.

- I
probably killed you.

And for that, I'm truly sorry.

It was nothing personal, I...

I only carried out a couple
of bombing raids before.

- Water under the bridge.

- I think I was shot down.

And then it all becomes a blur.

Perhaps I'll have the
answer at the Ministry.

- They better.

- Is that it?

- Oh, yeah. There it is.

Good old Ministry.

Seems to have taken
quite a beating.

- Was it there a minute ago?

- What was that?

- Just someone meeting
a horrible end.

Did it scare you?

- No.

I've heard worse
screams in this war.

Stop it! Stop it!

I don't like it! Stop!

- Ah, there you are.

- Actually, this scares me more.

- What?

- The silence.

- Why?

- I've heard it once before.

- When?

- A few years back.

- Where?

- The noisiest of all places.

The Grand Casino of Monte Carlo.

- Why were you there?

- It was an
intelligence assignment.

Monaco was officially neutral,

and so it was
teeming with spies.

I was sent to rendezvous
with an agent,

and then I saw them.

Four people, just staring at me.

And there was this silence.

And then they were gone.

As if nothing had happened.

- I say!

You there.

The Ministry is closed,

if that's where you
think you're going,

- Uh, we heard an awful scream.

- Yes, you were supposed to.

You do realize
you're dead, right?

- We do.

This must be hell.

- Why must it?

- Because he killed
me, and I killed him.

So, we must suffer.

- Catholic, eh?

- Well, you did not kill him.

- So, I'm not a murderer?

- Not so fast.

You...

Killed four people when
you bombed Monte Carlo,

and accidentally hit the casino.

- Oh.

I'm sorry.

- As are they, I'm sure.

- But he still killed me, right?

- No...

I did.

- You're not a soldier.

- With this.

All it took was one signature.

I never left my desk.

- So, it appears I didn't
kill you after all, right?

- Oh, dear chap, this
one can't be killed.

- Every soldier can be killed.

- This one just dresses
up as a soldier.

I think you should go.

You give me a headache.

- Dresses up? Who is he?

- You better not look at him.

- Don't turn around.

He just feasts on your fear.

Go.

A good riddance.

- You said "it". Who was he?

- A scavenger.

Nothing but a
lowly delivery boy.

- Delivering?

- Those I have killed, so
they could kill me in return.

- I'm not gonna kill you, sir.

- No.

Eventually, they all will.

You all will.

I guess I deserve it.

- So, when did he, "it",
bring you your last victim?

- 40 years ago.

- And how long did it
take for him to kill you?

- 40 years.

He killed me five minutes ago.

You heard my scream.

- So, this really is hell?

- Mm, I don't like that word.

I prefer to think of this
place as a kind of extinct Eden

in its expired, barren beauty.

Well, I suppose
we better go then.

- To the Ministry?

- Yes, where else?

- You said you killed me, but
I can't seem to recall you.

- Ah.

We never met face to face.

You were just statistics.

Whereabouts did that happen?

- It's all a bit blurry
at the moment, isn't it?

You were a POW,

and I was the
administrative clerk

in a place called Auschwitz.

It will all come back to you.

We have all the
time in the world.

- I'm
speaking very softly,

because it has been
scientifically proven

that 99.8% of those having
listened to this tape so far,

are enjoying the sleep
with the purity of 97.6%.

And wake soon, having their
energy restored by 96.5%.

Oh, that bittersweet moment

we need to say
goodbye to our dreams,

to these miniature and
unique fairy tales,

where we find ourselves
as heroes or villains,

cast in the most
magnificent situations.

Oh, sweet sleep.

Stay, stay for another second,

just for a fleeting second.

- Woo!

- Ahh!

- Oh, fuck!

- No!

No swearing.

Please, I hate swearing.

- I'm sorry, Number One. Sorry.

- So?

Anything?

- Ah, f-f...

Forgive me, I've been...

I've been so busy attending the-

- Kardashian's wedding feast?

- No, no, no, no, no.

The maiden voyage of Titanic.

You know, the ship? The iceberg?

1912, 1,517 deaths.

- Yes, yes.

That's fine, that's fine.

But what about this one?

- Uh, I, I, I...

- Please, tell me
you have a plan.

- Yes, yes, of course, I...

He will be hit by that car.

- By that one there?

- Yes. Yes, sir.

- Well, let's confirm
that, shall we?

So, Number something
something....

- 5-0-8-4-7-8-4-

- Yeah.

Tells me you are about to
assist him with this one here?

- Do I look like I
have the extra time?

I need to be in Vienna.

I'm dealing with
priority matters only.

Need to rewrite all
of Salieri's work

to that other chap
who killed him.

- But what-

- The less talented one, Mozart.

Apparently, it was decided that

he was now killed by Salieri.

I mean, why?

- We are not to question.

- Of course not, Number One.

- But what about that one?

- What about him?

- Years ahead of him.

- Can he kill this one?

- This one is not mine.

- He's mine.

- And you let him...

Run down to...

What? One second?

Good luck with that.

- Yes.

Well, the question now is,

can your man hit his man?

- Yes, please.

- Hit him?

- With his car.

- Well, we thought if your man
would now step on the gas...

Psh!

- You're joking, right?

This is a 1974 Saab, not a
Bugatti Veyron.

- Yes, I was afraid of that.

- It's a hundred
feet away!

- All right.

- You might as well ask whether
this pigeon could explode

with the power of a megaton.

- You're enjoying
it, aren't you?

- Yes, we've got it, thank
you, but the point is,

we are all going to be
stuck in here for eternity

if this man isn't
dead in one second.

- But how's his health?

- Regrettably perfect.

- Any live wires above?

Or explosives in his pocket?

None?

- I'm afraid we'll have to
turn to higher authorities.

Number Two might
be able to help us.

- Oh, please, Number One, no!

- I'm not going to spend an
eternity on this shitty street

because of you!

Number Two will
definitely report you,

but it's your own neglect.

- Shit!

- No, please! No cursing.

Thank you. You may go.

- Oh, no.

I want to see this.

- One.

Others.

- I wish you wouldn't
always reek of war.

- Who else do you
suppose is qualified?

- Yes, I know, we are sorry
to disturb you in your work,

but we are facing
a bit of a problem.

- I say you do.

Who's responsible
for this cook up?

Remind me to report you.

- We'll deal with the
disciplinary issues later.

Can you make this right?

- For your information,

I am charged with an
A-level alteration.

What level is this chap? Z?

- So, who's your subject?

- It's classified, but...

It's Hitler.

- What? Uncle Adolf?

- I was at his 100th birthday,
when I took Eva Braun.

- Her too.

- Oh, dear!

- Do they still
have time to publish

their wonderful memoirs?

"Love wins all."

- Not a chance.

- Aw!

I so enjoyed the
watercolor exhibition

they did with Churchill.

- I'm sorry, and you would be?

- Oh, just a passerby.

Not involved in this blunder.

- So, you will have to deal
with this, Mr. Handjob,

on your own.

I'm quite sure you
know who to turn to.

Gotta fly.

- Did he mean.

- No, no, no, he wouldn't!

- That's it!

It is time to call in...

The Fixer.

- Oh. Oh, no.

- Isn't that a bit too hasty?

I mean, when that
Hiroshima schoolgirl

run down to one second,

he took out the whole city.

- Yes, and remember that
toothless crone a while back,

who even knew her?

Was it really necessary to
sink the whole Atlantis?

- Well, you should
have considered that

before you left young
master Henchop unattended.

Now, it is down to The Fixer.

- Number One!

Long time, no see!

- Not long enough.

Sadly, this meeting
is unavoidable.

- So, who do we have here?

Huh?

Uh huh, uh huh.

So, you want me to fix this?

- We need you to.

However, I would hope
you could do this

without causing a
global catastrophe

that requires the whole of
history to be rewritten.

- Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh.

- Let me see.

- Volcano? Tsunami?

- Thank you, I'm sure The
Fixer can manage on his own.

- No, but
it's a good thought.

- Is there any way you could
extinguish Mr. Henchop here

without causing us
all due overtime?

- I don't know.

Depends how badly
you want him gone.

- No need for
theatricals, please.

- Hmm.

There's a nuclear power
plant two miles from here.

- Here we go!

- I can make it explode.

- Mm, that will not
do. Not do at all.

- I see half a million dead.

- You're just eager for
more fireworks, aren't you?

- Well...

- Couldn't you give him a
heart failure or something?

- You know, I can only
change objects, not people.

That's your task.

- Well, we all made
blunders in the past.

- Pfft, not me.

- You as well.

- What? When?

- I hate to bring
this up, but...

- Well...

- If you don't agree to
find a peaceful solution,

I'm afraid I'll
have to tell on you.

- Pfft! I've got immunity.

Your reports are futile.

- I don't mean a daily report.

I mean, on the Day of Reckoning.

- You mean...

To Him?

Yes, to Him.

- About?

- About one poor
Jew, 2000 years ago.

- Ah, don't go there.

- Who was the casualty,

when our Fixer here was too
eager to extinguish a thief.

- All right, all right!

I admit that death led
to an unexpected outcome,

but I would be glad if we
could all just forget about it.

- Well then?

- Got it!

About two miles above us,
there's a small meteorite,

dashing down towards us
at 15 miles per second.

Just a fist sized rock.

It'll land in less than a second

on an empty field southeast.

No one will ever know about it.

- But?

- But halfway down,
there's a weather balloon.

It barely misses.

Now, if I go back one second,

and make the wind blow
the balloon off its course

just three feet,

the meteorite will
crash into it.

This will break the
meteorite into two parts.

One chip, the size of halfpenny,
will be thrown this way.

It will land right there.

Now, taking into account the
velocity of mister, mister...

- Can you just tell us,
will it definitely hit him?

- Like a bullet,
right in his forehead.

- Without causing
any more damage?

- No, no, no damage.

- Thank you.

- Well, it seems you've
had a narrow escape.

- Thank you, Number One.

Thank you, Fixer.

- My pleasure.

- Your pleasure is exactly
what I'm afraid of.

Well, that's it, everyone.

Back to work!

- It was fun.

- Hm, cutie.

- What the fuck is that?

- Well...

It seems a meteorite
has just hit

the nuclear power plant.

Sorry.

- Please leave
a message after the tone.

- Dr. Sander,
are you coming in anytime soon?

Your first insomnia patient

has been waiting
for a while now.

- Just give me a second!

- Thank
you for choosing

Dr. Sander's Sleep Cure.

Be sure to rewind, please.

- Doctor, you've gotta help
me, I can't stay awake.

I have these dreams where I'm
someone else during the day,

during the night,
school, in the car...

Doctor?

Doctor Sander?

- Quiet, please, quiet!

Thank you.

It has come to our notion

that the current
number of characters

in Dr. Sander's nightmares
may not be sufficient

to secure our place in the
Guinness Book of Records.

- That's not possible!

He must be joking.

- Bad news, bad news.

- Therefore, a decision
is on the horizon.

Shall we increase the
number of characters,

aiming to surpass
the current record?

Doctors, if you
endorse this motion,

signify it with a "yes".

- Yes.

- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Mhm.
- Yes.

- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes!

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Mm, yes.

- Yes.
- Yes!

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Yes.

- Uh, yes.

- No.

- What?

- Just kidding.

Yes!

- Motion passed unanimously!

Doctors, congratulations.

We have a new
Guinness World Record.

♪ I want to be your breakfast ♪

♪ I want to be your brunch. ♪

♪ And I lay myself
down for your lunch ♪

♪ I'll be your morning coffee ♪

♪ Sugar or saccharine ♪

♪ Evenings your Xanax,
mornings Benzedrine ♪

♪ No escape, I'm your fixation ♪

♪ Haunting you, your
sweet hallucination ♪

♪ In summer, your
sunburn fever ♪

♪ Winter, your
frostbite's pain ♪

♪ Whenever you blink,
hey there, I am again ♪

♪ I'm both your
brake and pedal ♪

♪ A cure and a diagnosis ♪

♪ I'm both your
underweight and overdose ♪

♪ Nightly, your
sleeping potion ♪

♪ Daily, your dopamine ♪

♪ I'm your hangover
and your aspirin ♪

♪ I'm devoted to be
your favorite sin ♪

♪ Your flu and COVID ♪

♪ Your full 20 and bathtub gin ♪

♪ I'll be your every cravings ♪

♪ Infinite smorgasbord ♪

♪ Come take a bite, and
you'll run back for more ♪

♪ All your nightmares, all
your dreams come true ♪

♪ I'll make them real, 'cause
I will stick with you ♪

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