All language subtitles for 83 - Allo Allo S9e04 - The Fishmonger Float

The strain of this terrible war
is getting worse.

I have been presumed dead,
blown up in a windmill,

taken prisoner as a love slave
by the communist resistance,

shot in the bum by a hunter, and, while posing
as a waxwork at the town museum,

touched up by Lieutenant Gruber.

The Germans now know that I am alive
and I have explained my absence

by telling them that after the explosion
at the windmill, I temporarily lost my memory.

I was going to tell you something else,
but I've forgotten what it is.

Never mind, I will think of it later.

- Oh, Rene.
- Oh, Yvette.

At last we are alone.

Hold me, kiss me.

Oh, it seems so very long.

What does?

Since we last had time for each other.

Oh, without you my life is so empty.

I will do my very best
to fill your emptiness.

Good, let us go behind the henhouse at once.

No, no, no, patience, Yvette.

The time now is not right.

But I will meet you tonight upstairs in the broom
cupboard when the clock strikes 12:00.

Oh Rene, until then,

every second will seem like a day,
every minute will seem like a year.

At that rate, by midnight
you will be well over 102.

Oh, Rene.

Rene!

What are you doing with
that serving girl in your arms?

You stupid woman.

- Can you not see...
- Stop!

For a change, I would like her to explain.

Me?

Oh, well...

I was crossing the room
when I... oh yes,

I... I fell over this leg of the chair,
and I would have fallen

if Rene had not caught me
in his strong arms.

No, no, my dear, sweet child,
you must not lie for me.

I did not want to tell you this,
but I have had a minor spasm.

Not a spasm!

It has passed, and will not
be mentioned again.

Suffice to say that I must make
the most of my time left to me here.

Oh, sit down, Rene.

Oh, yes.

I am so sorry.

I always forget how frail you are, and
am only reminded when you come to bed.

I forgive you, Edith.

But please, please, do not jump
to conclusions in future.

Now, Yvette, you go and lie down,
and get over the shock.

Yes, Rene.

Are you sure you are all right, Rene?

Since you officially came back from the dead,
you have been behaving rather strangely.

Well, I have had a traumatic few days.

Rene!

And I think they are going
to get even more traumatic.

I must speak with you, urgently.

Listen very carefully,

I shall say this only once.

Acting on information
received from British intelligence,

my girls and I have managed to obtain

top secret German plans for the defense
of France, when the allies invade.

How did you manage that?!

We waylaid the courier from Berlin, and while
my girls kept him busy in a haystack,

I photographed the plans in his briefcase.

I have the microfilm here.

A coup like this could turn the tide.

I know.

Now, we must send the microfilm
by carrier pigeon to England.

But first we must radio to London.

Oh, can it not wait till later?

Oh, but what could be
more important than this?

Well, it is just that mamma
and Monsieur LeClerc

have only just made it up after their row.

I did not want to disturb them,
they are like a pair of lovebirds.

Get out, you two-timing rat!

Lovebirds?

More like fighting cocks.

Let us get up there before
they demolish the attic.

Get out!

Stop that, you silly old bat.

Oh, mamma, what is happening?

Ask him, the unfaithful wretch.

He has cheated on me again.

I found this letter in his suitcase.

Listen.

"My lips burn for yours.

I cannot wait for you

to swing once more from the chandelier,

dressed only in your top hat and socks."

I cannot read the signature.

What sort of man are you?

Certainly not shy.

I am the sort that got the letter in 1927.

He admits it, the lecher.

And what sort of woman
would write such things?

Mamma, this is your signature.

That is what I have been trying to tell her.

Oh, so you were the one.

I still have the topper, and the socks.

Fat lot of good that is,
we have no chandelier.

We cannot waste time like this.

Monsieur LeClerc, go and get one of
the homing pigeons from Rene's henhouse,

and meet us in the square.

Now we must radio to London.

The knobs, the flashing knobs!

Shut up.

'Allo, London, this is Blue Tit calling.
Over.

What is your message?
Over.

We have the plans you asked for.

We are sending them
by homing pigeon immediately.

Over.

Well done, Blue Tit.

And here is a personal message,
recorded last night,

by Mr. Churchill for Nighthawk,
hero of the resistance.

These words could go down in history.

Well done, Ronald.

Ronald?

Good moaning.

Good moaning.

What are you deeing with that podgeon?

We are sending vital information to London.

That is a rosky bosness.

I will stand leakout for you,
in case you are spitted by the nitzis.

The pigeon is ready.

Fly bravely and swiftly, my little pigeon.

Why are you talking to the pigeon, Edith?

He cannot understand you.

He will sense the encouragement in my voice.

Are there any Germans about?

Not a nitzi in suit.

We are ready to lunch.

Then goodbye, pigeon.

- There he goes.
- Straight for England.

That is not the way to England.

He seems to be circling.

And coming back towards us.

He does not appear
to wint to goo to Ongland.

Perhaps you could show
this stupid bird a map.

We will try again.

Drat.

Which homing pigeon
did you get from the henhouse?

The one that lives in Nouvion.

You silly old fool.

How are we going to get
the defense plans to London now?

There seems to have been
an almighty kick-up.

This week is the annual fishmonger's
parade to the coast.

We will enter a float, to which my girls
will attach propellers and engines.

And if we succeed,
Churchill will jump for joy.

No doubt causing a rush of trussmakers
to number 10 Downing Street.

We will try the pigeon one more time.

Oh, no wonder it will not leave.

It has a baby.

Now you know why I never wanted children.

The Colonel and Lieutenant Gruber
are here, General!

Send them in.

Yes, General.

The General will see you now!

Heil Hitler.

Heil Hitler.
Sit down.

I will not beat about the bush.

The war is going very badly.

Certain generals are blaming Hitler,
and plotting to assassinate him.

Disgraceful!

Who would do such a thing?

I would.

Ah, well, that does put a different
complexion on the matter.

It is a relief to know that I can trust you.

For you are going to help me
in the assassination.

Perhaps I could be excused?

I'm a married man.

If anything goes wrong, you will have
a proud widow to whom I shall write.

And if anything happens to you, Gruber?

I should like to be buried with Hubert.

Which regiment is he in?

He is my little tank.

Oh, yes, of course.

Now, I intend to deliver the portrait
of the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies

to the Fuhrer in a frame
packed with explosives.

When Hitler examines the picture,
he will be blown to bits.

But we do not have the painting, General.

We will have a forgery made.

I have been examining
the local police records

and it seems that the old man at the cafe,
Ernest LeClerc, is a convicted forger.

I have sent for him.

He will make a copy for us.

But, General, he has nothing to copy.

I have here, a photograph of you
holding the painting, Gruber.

As a further help, I've arranged
with Private Helga Geerhart,

to pose as the fallen madonna for us.

General, it is an ingenious plan, but how
can you ensure it is the Fuhrer who is blown up?

Someone will have to be present to detonate
the frame when Hitler receives it.

Will they not be killed too?

There is that risk.

But whoever succeeds will have almost
every man in the German army behind him.

Quite a prospect.

This is the float we used
the last time Nouvion

won the annual fishmonger's
parade to the coast.

Incredible how, after all this time,
the pong of success still lingers.

I had to dress as a lumpfish.

I remember it well.
I was only 16.

And to think, I waved
this parade float farewell,

never knowing that my wife-to-be
was the small lumpyfish in the back.

I do not know if I can
still get into the costume.

Do not worry, there is
plenty to choose from.

They are here in this box.

Rene, you can be Neptune on his throne.

And someone...

Will have to be Venus Unadorned
rising from the sea in this giant clam.

There is only one woman in Nouvion who has
the right qualities to act the part of Venus.

Oh, I am sorry, but unadorned I would
have nowhere to hide a gun.

I meant Madame Edith.

Oh, thank you, Monsieur Alphonse.

I accept.

Of course, I shall have a piece
of cheesecloth modestly draped.

But, Edith, Venus was the goddess of beauty.

I know.

And when I arise, almost unadorned,
from the clam shell,

it will take the spectators' breath away.

The mere thought makes
my ticker go all dicky.

Madame Edith, would you like
to try the shell for size now?

Of course.

Excuse me.

Monsieur, would you give me a hand?

The spring mechanism
seems to have rusted.

Lie down inside, Madame Edith,
let us see if you fit it.

It is just like the ones
we serve, only bigger.

I'll go and get a tire lever.

Let me out!

Hang on, Venus.

The forgery is going nicely.

I must say, Helga, you're very
convincing as the fallen madonna.

Have you done it before?

No, General.

But I did once play the Virgin Mary
in a school nativity play.

Somehow I don't think that would
have been quite so convincing.

Touch more pink there, Monsieur LeClerc.

The face and dress are very realistic, but
what's that big blank space in the middle?

I do not wish to discomfort Private Geerhart
any more than is necessary.

She will uncover for a short time,
only for the painting of the boobies.

Thank you, General.

It is rather embarrassing
with you all watching.

Do not worry, Helga.

We are not the slightest bit
interested in the painting of privates.

I am ready now to do the boobies.

Very well.

You may uncover yourself briefly.

Perhaps you would all
turn away for a moment.

All except the forger.

Let us know if you need another look.

I think one was enough.

This is the missing left booby from
the painting of the Fallen Madonna.

We must cash it in
to escape to South America.

We will not go far on one booby, Herr Flick.

The two waitresses from the cafe

ply their trade as ladies of the night
underneath the lamppost in the square.

We will kidnap them and steal their clothes.

Then using one of their keys, we will
gain entry to the cafe and search it.

A brilliant plan, Herr Flick!

A long one, but brilliant.

We will try on some suitable wigs.

I will be the tall brunette
with the good legs.

You can be the short one
with the big bum.

Do I look like a tart?

No.

More the result of a mating
between a yeti and a chihuahua.

This is the mark I prototype of
the frame that will be around

the portrait of the Fallen Madonna
when we deliver it to the Fuhrer.

It looks very authentic, General.

Our scientists are at this moment working
on a foolproof way of detonating the frame.

Naturally, they know
nothing of our intentions.

But for the purposes of this test,
I will use a simple radio beam

to blow the explosives.

Are you sure it is safe
to do this here, General?

We do not want to blow up
the whole chateau.

Oh, relax, relax.

The scientists assure me that
the explosion will be localized.

The dummy of Hitler will be blown to pieces,

but everything else in the room
will be left untouched.

Stand by.

Goodbye, Adolf.

Hello there.

My, aren't you a cute one?

How kind.

I have no money, but,
I am young and good looking.

I, too, have no money, and I am young
and better looking, so buzz off!

Oh, the nerve of some people.

Anyone would think we looked cheap.

Good evening, tarts.

Oh, Herr Flick!

This is a surprise.

How would you like a good time with a couple
of debonair curb crawlers about town?

Certainly.
Where are they?

I was referring to
Von Smallhausen and myself.

Have you money?

Pots of it.

Get into the car.

I will go in the back of the car.

So I've heard.

No, you can have Von Smallhausen.

He's more your size.

This is a strange place to bring us to.

Is it your secret headquarters, Herr Flick?

You will soon find out.

Open the door, Von Smallhausen.

Come inside, my dears.

We have a little surprise for you.

In our line of business,
most surprises are little.

Any more Peter Lorre impersonations,

and you will find yourself working
in the Gestapo hat factory.

Take off your clothes.

What?
Here?

Of course.

Is there nowhere more private,
like... a tool cabinet?

This will do.
Begin the undressing.

First you must produce the necessary.

What?

The money, Von Smallhausen.

Oh, yes, of course, the money.

I've never done it in a garage before.

No, we could get very dirty in here.

What kept you so long, Rene?

I have got through 10 chapters of "War and Peace,"
waiting for you to come to bed.

I was just making myself a little snack.

Garlic sausage and pickled cucumbers.

It seems such ages since
we had any time together.

I am a passionate woman, Rene, I have
appetites that need to be satisfied.

Here, have a pickled cucumber.

Sometimes you seem so distant.

Take me in your arms, Rene,
kiss me, cuddle me.

I will just finish my garlic sausage.

Now.

What is the matter, Edith?

Nothing.

I seem to have gone off the boil.

Oh, and I had just got up steam.

Ah, well, perhaps another night.

Are you all right?

Quickly, untie my hands.

We must get back to the cafe.

They even stole our handbags.

We've been played for suckers.

When Herr Flick said he wanted
to tie us up in our underwear,

I did not think he had this in mind.

Quiet, Von Smallhausen.

The door is locked, Herr Flick.

Check your handbag.

Those girls must have a key somewhere.

Hurry, these heels are killing me.

I have the key, Herr Flick.

And I have the torch from the car.

Let us go inside and begin
our search for the painting.

Lock the door, Von Smallhausen.

Yes, Herr Flick.

- And produce your torch.
- Yes, Herr Flick.

We will look upstairs first.

If you have any problems, flash me.

With your torch, dunderhead.

I will take the front.

You search the back.

Someone is coming.

We must hide.
Quick.

Rene...

Now where has he gone...

Oh, no, not another spasm.

I must see if he is all right.

Now for Yvette.

I am here, my darling.

Rene!
You faithless swine.

What are you doing in that
broom cupboard with that tart?

You stupid woman.

Can you not see that this is...

Herr Flick of the Gestapo?

Oh, so it is.

Oh, I am sorry, Herr Flick.

But I did not recognize you
in a skirt and fishnet stockings.

Well, you should have.

So should you.

But what were you doing
in the broom cupboard with him?

Really, Edith, is that not obvious?

No.

Well it was like this, you see.

Yes?

Well, I was in bed, trying to get off
to sleep next to you, my darling,

when I heard a noise on the landing.

Thinking that it might be burglars,
I came out to apprehend them,

and happened to find Herr Flick in
the broom cupboard disguised as a tart.

You expect me to believe that explanation?

Any other explanation would be unthinkable.

Silence, peasants.

Von Smallhausen?

Yes, Herr Flick?

You may come out now.

Herr Flick, may I ask what is going on?

No.

May I ask?

Shut up, Von Smallhausen.

You will find the portrait
of the Fallen Madonna

with the Big Boobies
for me or you will be shot.

Do you understand?

Yes, Herr Flick.

Otherwise, I shall be in every cupboard
you open until I find it myself.

Come, Von Smallhausen.

It is locked.

Well, how are we going to get inside?

Look!

The window to Rene and
Madame Edith's room is open.

I will climb in and come down
and open the door.

Give me a leg up.

Oh, Rene, I think I will go and get
a glass of water before we go back to bed.

Yes do that, dearest.

I still feel very shaky.

It was a shock to find you
in the cupboard with Herr Flick.

It came as something
of a surprise to me as well.

Yvette!

My God, what are you doing here?

And why are you dressed
as a car mechanic?

Oh, Rene, I've had a terrible night.

Hold me.

Are you mad?

Edith will be back here any moment.

That is her now.
Quick, you must hide.

Here, get in the wardrobe.

I'm sorry I missed our rendezvous
in the broom cupboard.

Yes, so am I.

No, no, please.

Just get inside, please.

For god's sake.

Oh my god, lipstick.
Edith will kill me.

Rene.

Oh no.

Rene, I...

Now where has he gone?

Oh, I see it all now.

He has sneaked out for an illicit
relationship with someone.

Oh, the villain.

I will catch him this time.

I will get dressed, and follow him.

Ah! Rene!

What are you doing in the wardrobe
with that serving girl?

With lipstick all over your face?

And why is she dressed as a car mechanic?

You stupid woman.

That is the second time
tonight you have done this.

And what explanation have you got?

I am not made of explanations.

In a marriage, there must be some trust.

He is right.
I am overreacting.

I must be calm and think things out.

I have thought things out.

You...

Oh, no!