All language subtitles for 2017.Oscar.Nominated.Short.Films.Animation.2017.720p.WEB-DL.700MB.MkvCage

Puoi farcela

Mantieniti!!

Dammi la mano !

Non ci arrivo!

No!!

Che faccio ora?!

Qui!

- OK ! il 4 Settembre, take two
� una lunga strada verso casa.

- Hey, coming in at the
top of the charts this week

it's a new band...

- Come on...

- One day, in a little village
close to where I used to live,

but far from me today,
a little girl was born.

She was called vaysha.

A beautiful little girl,
said the villagers.

Her mother looked
at her with adoration.

How could this mother,
leaning over the cradle,

imagine that her little girl's
eyes would see things this way?

Little vaysha had been born

with a left eye
that only saw the past

and a right eye
that only saw the future.

When little vaysha
grew up and began to talk,

she explained
that she saw the sky like this.

And even though
her eyes were open,

like those
of any sighted person,

it was as though
vaysha was blind.

"Vaysha the blind girl."

This was how
everyone came to call her.

Everyone was convinced
that vaysha's eyes

were the result of black magic.

A gaggle of old medicine women

paraded into the
house to identify the spell

and attempt to heal the
little girl of this affliction.

Drink the
extract of blue thistle

for 40 days
before the sun rises.

Place the gallbladder
of a buzzard on the left eye,

the heart of a rooster
on the right eye,

an oscillated peacock feather

and the tongue of
a horned viper on both.

The old woman whispered
that nothing would work

unless a way was
found to reunite her eyes

and bring her
back to this world.

All attempts to restore
her normal vision failed.

In the courtyard, she
advanced with outstretched arms,

and bumped into the cherry tree.

She toppled pots in the shed.

Ripe cherries
or the pots to gather them -

these did not exist for her.

In her eyes,
the present did not exist.

Vaysha grew up.

She became
a beautiful young woman.

The fact that she had
one green eye and one brown eye

only added to her beauty.

One day, a young man
came to ask for her hand.

When she laid her eyes on him,
this is what she saw.

- My goodness, what has

...his hair is all white.

Poor dear. My goodness,
he smells like dirt.

His shirt is not
tucked in his pants,

his knees are all scraped.

His time has come and
he's asking me to marry him.

I could be his mother.
It must be a joke.

- The same story was
repeated with each suitor.

Vaysha was
unable to find any man

who could unite her sight.

She rarely left the house.

In her eyes,
the present did not exist.

Even at night,

while vaysha slept,
she could not truly rest.

She had nightmares.

Like a serpent's tongue,
her dreams would split in two.

On one side, she saw
herself as a little girl;

and on the other,
she saw herself already dead.

Sometimes the difference
between the two eyes was slight,

only a few hours apart.

For the left eye,
the sun had just risen.

The right eye was
already seeing the moon shine.

But other times,

her left eye only showed
her an abyss and a great void,

like that
which preceded creation,

while her right eye could only
perceive ruins and disaster,

after what could
have been an apocalypse.

It was difficult for vaysha
to live with her disability.

This is why one day,
out of desperation,

she had the idea of tearing
out an eye with her own hands.

But she didn't know which one.

If she chose
to remove her left eye,

that would mean that she would
live forever in the future.

And the future...

And the future, it scared her.

It was dark and depressing.

However,
if she removed her right eye,

she could live in the past,

which is always more
certain and reassuring.

But how to live with
parents who are young children?

Vaysha could not be happy,

neither in the past
nor in the future.

This story is a hopeless story,

because we cannot find
anything in this world

capable of
reuniting these two views.

And now, dear audience,

close your right eye.

How sad if, with your left eye,

you could no longer
see any film or any story,

only the blank page
preceding the story.

Woe to you.

And now close your left eye.

If you still
do not see the film,

because it is already erased

and the images have
become dust and white ash...

Woe to me.

Do we look at the world

with the eyes
of vaysha the blind?

I received a
Christmas card this morning.

It didn't come with the
regular mail for some reason.

That was a bit strange.

It was also strange that it was
addressed from my friend techno.

It read: "Hey rob,
if you are reading this, that

means I'm dead.

I just want to say thanks.

I'll see you soon.

Go get drunk on me.

Techno."

Techno stypes.

What a guy he was.

He always said he'd
never make it to forty.

A year and a half earlier,
i was on a plane to China,

I was on my way to see techno.

He was at the military
hospital in Guangzhou,

waiting for a new liver.

His father sent me with two
clear instructions: One - gotta

get techno to stop drinking,
at least long enough

to receive a liver transplant.

And two - get him
back home to Vancouver.

Get techno to stop drinking...

That's not gonna be easy.

Cos that's what techno
really liked to do...

Was drink.

And smoke.

And fight.

He was in no condition to fight.

He was sick.

He was really sick.

He was crippled from a car
accident when he was seventeen,

but that's not how
he lost his big toe.

He lost that in a
motorbike accident.

Yeah, he was broken alright.

What was he
fighting for anyways?

And what was he
still doing in China?

I first met techno
in the fall of 1978.

My first memory of techno
was, we were playing soccer

on this field, and, the ball
was coming right to me.

Right when I was about to jump
for it, this kid jumped right in

front of me and he
jumped higher than

I'd ever seen
anybody jump before.

And he chested the ball,
sorta trapped it, and then he

kicked it, from about
halfway across the field,

and I'm pretty sure
he scored....

Another time, there was this
sports day at school,

and I remember he
casually picked up this ball,

and he chucked it,
right across the field.

And I remember going up after
him, and thinking 'oh I could do

that', and I chucked the ball
as hard as I could, and it only

went halfway across the field.

For the next little while, i
went to that school on the

weekends and practised throwing
balls, to see if I could throw

it across the field, and i
never got anywhere near it.

But I'll tell you one thing.

Techno was fast.

Techno was the fastest
human I'd ever seen.

When he ran, he just took off.

There's no way you
could ever catch him.

And so there I was, I couldn't
really Chuck a ball too far,

and I didn't really play hockey,

and I didn't really play
soccer either.

All I did, all the
time, was I used to draw.

And that's the one thing i
could do that techno couldn't

really do, and so, we
became friends after that.

One day techno said, 'hey, do
you wanna go shoot some balls

around after school?' And I said
'yeah, ok.' In the middle of us

playing around, techno went
berserk, he proceeded to break

about 20 windows at the school.

We were walking home, and we got
picked up by a squad car, and I

remember thinking i
really didn't like to be

in the back of a squad car.

I looked over, and
techno thought it was great.

And that kind of
explains the difference

between the two of us.

And we were only like twelve
years old, and he used to tell

us these stories about fucking
his girlfriend, and I remember I

didn't even have pubic hair yet
like that's how young we were.

I guess that's the thing with
him, it seemed like he could

always just pull it off.

Whether he was
diving off a cliff,

or riding his skateboard
through traffic...

It just seemed like he
could always just pull it off.

Techno's daredevil heroics
were the stuff of legend

to us regular teenagers.

To befriend techno was to board
a thrill ride of some sort.

Techno pushed the limits of
whatever situation he was in.

The greater the danger,
the greater the thrill.

He loved to steal.

Cars, bikes,
electronics, he didn't care.

He always had some
sort of scam on the go.

And was always
covering it with lies.

The stealing eventually got
him in trouble with some of the

senior students in high school.

That was bad news.

Then he started
stealing from his friends.

Then nobody could trust him.

It was around this time, that
techno started hanging around

with a bunch of dickheads
wearing alligator shirts with

the collars turned up.

I didn't really care
much for these guys, but,

I have to admit, they
were getting lots of pussy.

One evening, techno phoned me up
and asked me if I wanted to go

to a party at the other end of
town, with his dickhead buddies.

I declined.

It was the summer
of our graduation.

We were seventeen.

Techno was completely
in control, and completely

out of control at the same time.

An emergency crew showed up
to the scene of the accident...

And techno was
nowhere to be seen.

After some time they
found him in a bush...

Fifty yards away
from the crash site.

He was busted up pretty good,
he nearly lost a leg

and there was some
significant brain trauma.

He drifted in and out of
consciousness long enough

to wave goodbye to me.

I was on my way to the airport.

I was off to
calgary to become a realtor.

Techno had a very
long recovery and his

friends gradually
stopped visiting.

He'd burned a lot of Bridges
right before the accident.

It must've been very lonely
sitting in the hospital for the

better part of two years,

wondering where all
your friends are.

But recover he did.

His speech was different, slower
and slurred, and he had a limp.

I'd come by and visit him
whenever I was in town...

This is right around the time
he started to drink regularly.

One day techno
announced that his

insurance settlement
had came in.

This time he wasn't lying.

One and a half million dollars
it took the lawyers ten years

to settle his case.

There were many points in
techno's life where you could

say, 'this was the beginning
of all his troubles', the car

accident was surely one of these
points, the day his settlement

came in was another.

And that's when Jennifer
entered the scene.

She was a damn drunk.

When she was done with him
he too would be a damn drunk.

Techno was a funny millionaire.

He dressed and
acted like a skid.

He smoked dog
ends off the street.

His drink of
choice was pear cider.

Techno asked me to be
the best man at his wedding.

I refused.

His wife poured spaghetti on
his head and burned his eyelids

with cigarette butts.

I'm not sure where this happens
on the timeline, but one day

techno was riding his motorbike.

As he was looking back
to merge onto the highway,

he ran into the merge sign.

The sign clipped the toe
pedal right off his motorbike

and took his big toe
right along with it.

This would add an
even more pronounced limp

to his walk...

More time passed.

One day I went out to the bay
where he lived to visit him.

I pulled over.

As he bent down to lean
into the window I noticed he had

a really yellow complexion.

Apparently, he was given
bad blood from the hospital

and contracted hepatitis c.

He would eventually
sue the hospital for

another 600 thousand dollars.

By this time
techno was very rich.

He always had an odd assortment
of hangers-on available

to do odd jobs for him.

There was Freddy the freeloader,
dump truck, Teddy two fingers,

and dogbreath...

This guy was a piece of work.

Most of them were crackheads.

Techno could stay
up for days on end,

Polish off dozens
of pear cider in one sitting.

He'd get drunk and get on the
horn, and call everyone he knew

and invite them to parties
at his buddy's warehouse.

He claimed celebrities
would be in attendance,

like that
douchebag from nickelback.

No-one I ever knew
went to these parties.

Techno knew his
days were numbered.

He carried on as if
he just didn't care.

According to him,
he had been right on the edge.

He wanted to live.

He loved life in fact,
he just had so much pain.

Pain in his legs, he said
the hep c was terribly painful,

he was always vomiting.

He loved to drink, and
claimed this was the only thing

that relieved his pain.

The combination of drinking and
the hep c wore out his liver,

in pretty short order.

The Canadian transplant
society refused to put him on

the ten year waiting
list for a new liver

unless he stopped drinking.

In ten years
he'd be dead anyways.

Catch-22.

Later...

I was in China.

I received an email from
techno's mother saying that he

too was in China, and
perhaps I could go see him?

As it turned out, he wasn't
far away from where I was.

He was there
with his second wife.

What was techno doing in China?

Techno met Vince in some
unlikely place

in Vancouver, in a pub.

Vince was in the business of
organising transplant services

for those in need.

Techno was on his last legs.

These services did
not come cheap however...

A quarter of a
million dollars up front.

He promised that
techno would be back home

in six weeks with a new liver.

We met him at the white
swan restaurant in Guangzhou.

He didn't look too good.

He was totally sketched out.

I found it strange at dinner
when techno ordered a cocktail,

that it met no
resistance from his wife.

They both assured me that his
old liver was shot anyways,

and that he'd be
receiving a new one soon.

That all seemed
perfectly logical to me,

and I also ordered a cocktail.

It was a perfectly festive
evening...Techno's drinking soon

erupted into utter chaos,
just like it always did.

He was making things more
difficult, in spite of us all

there trying to help him.

We left secure in the knowledge
that techno would soon be back

home with a new liver.

Months passed...

I got word techno was still
in China, still waiting for a

liver, except now
the situation had spun

completely out of control.

His wife left
him there by himself,

he started drinking again.

It really didn't
look like techno

was gonna make it home alive.

I met with techno's father,
we cooked up this plan to try to

get techno back home
one way or the other.

I phoned him up and I said
'look, I'm gonna come out there

and we're gonna try and
get you back home again,'

and all he said was

'well hurry the fuck up.'

I really didn't want to
go back to China...

So there I am on the airplane.

I could see the
sprawling mass of Guangzhou

appear out of the haze.

And as the plane approached
the runway, the real work

was just about to begin.

I passed through
customs and entered

the main concourse
of the airport.

There was a little
girl there named flora,

holding my name on a card.

We exchanged greetings and
she went off to look for techno.

After a while techno appeared.

He shook my hand.

His expression was something
like 'thanks for coming here

man', mine was 'now let's get
you the fuck outta here.'

back at the military
hospital, I met dr Lee.

He explained to me that
it was imperative that

techno quit drinking.

The sooner he quit, the sooner
he was able to receive a new

liver, it was that simple.

And also, if I could get rid
of that damn cat in his room.

I turned to techno...

'Ok, where is it?'

he knew exactly
what I was talking about.

He produced a bottle of baijo,
he was mixing it with gatorade.

'All of it' I said.

It took a while, but eventually
he gathered up all his various

stashes of liquor
hidden around his room.

Satisfied, I dumped it all out
in the toilet,

he didn't like that very much.

On the way out I grabbed the cat
and released it in the courtyard

in the rear of the building.

And then I checked into the
hotel next to the hospital.

I set up my computer and scanner
and got busy on my second book.

The next day I went to go
visit techno in his room.

He was in the middle
of his daily routine.

He was sitting on
the side of his bed

vomiting into a trash bin.

Flora was there,
fussing with his hair and

straightening out his shirt.

I busied myself with something.

I noticed the cat had
somehow returned to the room.

I removed it again.

Techno was hooked up
to an intravenous drip for

the rest of the morning.

We watched an
episode of Seinfeld...

I'm not sure what was in that
drip, but it surely kept him

alive all these months.

Techno rarely got going until
mid-afternoon, and then we would

set out on our little adventure.

This was usually something
simple like going for lunch.

He had the hospital address
written on a piece of paper and

set in plastic.

This was tied around his
neck with a piece of string.

It said something like: 'If
you find me, please return me to

'dot dot dot'.'
Simple but effective.

He had a collection of business
cards from local restaurants

he'd show to taxi drivers.

On this particular day, we were
going to the German restaurant.

He of course
immediately ordered a cocktail,

which I had to confiscate.

I always felt like a fuckin
cop when I was with that guy.

It was normal for him to shut
down for a while after lunch.

This he did
with much discomfort.

After about an hour he'd bum
a smoke of some poor Chinese

fellow and then we would get
back to the hospital and he'd go

for a nap back in his room and
I'd continue working on my book

back at the hotel.

At night I'd come by for another
generous dose of Seinfeld.

This routine would
repeat itself like clockwork.

A week later my
wife arrived, thank god.

I was already going nuts.

Back at the hospital, i
continued to remove the cat from

techno's room every day, 'what
the fuck.' Techno didn't know

what was going on either.

I brought techno
food every morning.

He'd look at it and grimace and
say something like 'ah I can't

eat that kind of lettuce' or
'i can't eat bananas without

sprinkles on it' or
something retarded like that.

And so it went...

First it was Seinfeld, then
friends, then we discovered

my name is Earl.

Other than that,
there wasn't much to mark

the passing of time.

Techno had his good
days, and his bad days.

He'd looked forward
to a special meal for days.

Techno's immune system was so
low, a piece of fish that was

slightly off or some other
funky food would put him down

for a week or two.

That was sad when
techno got sick like that.

One day we were in his room
watching TV and he got up and

hobbled to the
bathroom with the iv pole.

When he got out he said 'look,
i dragged the iv pole to the

bathroom and I wasn't even
hooked up to it.' We laughed

until we cried.

I think we were cracking up.

Just then the door opened
and a hand dropped the cat

back in the room.

Things were getting
tense back in Vancouver.

Techno and his
father were having a

bitter dispute about money.

I saw techno cry that day,
I'd never seen that before.

Thank god flora was there to put
her arm around him, cos I didn't

know what the hell to do.

I was making great
progress with my book.

I had no distractions in China.

Sometimes techno would come
and visit me in the hotel room.

After a while
he'd say something like

'i gotta go take my pill' or 'i
gotta go get something from my

room.' I'd give him
about five minutes and then

I'd go chasing after him.

I hated being a cop, but i
was actually pretty good at it.

It wasn't hard to figure
out what techno was up to.

God.

And then more time passed.

Except now,
it was the three of us.

Three foreigners in China.

We each brought something to
the table, but techno was the

undisputed leader cos
he had the hospital address tied

around his neck.

Without that, we'd all be sunk.

Occasionally a liver would come
in that matched techno's blood

type, we were careful
not to get our hopes up.

We weren't supposed to know this
but, the sad truth was techno

was waiting for a liver
from some guy on death row.

I asked techno what he thought
about some poor fellow dying

so that he could live.

'I don't care.'
Techno's favourite answer.

Eventually a liver did come in.

A real quality one too.

Apparently, a fellow in his
early twenties was about to be

executed and he had the
same blood type as techno.

We couldn't help but
get our hopes up this time.

Everything happened
really quickly after that.

Techno was prepped for surgery
in the morning and then we

wheeled him to the other
building where they perform the

transplant surgeries.

I remember looking at a pile
of rubbish in the corner of the

elevator and thinking
how filthy this hospital was.

I'd never seen techno so scared.

The transplant ward had flickery
lights and holes in the ceiling,

and then they wheeled him
off through the double doors

and he was gone.

Kung and I walked
back to the hotel.

That dumb cat darted out
in front of us on the way back.

We were called back
to return to the hospital.

Dr Lee wanted to
show us techno's old liver

for some reason.

This infamous liver that's been
the source of so much grief, I

had to take a look at it.

A couple of days later we saw
techno in the isolation ward.

He was behind glass
with some other patients.

He had tubes running down his
mouth and he was hooked up to

all sorts of machines.

After a few more days,
he had moved into his own room.

We had to wear hospital gowns,

masks to avoid him
getting an infection.

He jumped out of bed and shook
my hand, he was clearly pleased.

And then he went over to
the TV and started adjusting

the angle on it.

The nurses were
chasing him around the room.

He must've been high on drugs or
something cos he sure regretted

doing that later.

Rejection was a big
issue at this time.

It was amazing to see the
transformation in him,

and it happened so
quickly as well.

First his eyeballs became white,

and then his
thinking became clear again.

Before the surgery it seemed
like he was always bogged down.

It was an
awesome thing to watch.

But, he still
couldn't leave his room.

He had beaten the odds.

One day I was in his
room, he was sleeping.

He was chewing,
and putting handfuls of air

in his mouth and chewing.

He woke up and said 'ah man,
i was having this great dream

about food.' I asked him on
another occasion 'what does it

feel like to have a new liver?'
He said 'it feels, it feels like

somebody removed a frozen
lasagne out of my chest and

replaced it with another frozen
lasagne.' Now it was time to

plan the exit strategy,
but first we had to

pay off the hospital.

For some reason the
hospital only took cash.

Techno's father
had to organise a massive

western union transfer.

It was a big fuck up.

Western union didn't
wanna transfer that much money.

It took all day, but in the
end we had a big bag full of

one hundred renminbi notes.

It was a stack of
notes over two feet long.

Me and two little
Asian girls were my backup.

We returned to techno's room.

First we wanted to take a
look at the piles of money,

I could see techno's
eyes light up.

For a moment I had second
thoughts about leaving all that

money in his room.

The next day was another
split second timing day.

I had to collect the
money from techno's room.

He was barking orders and being
rude to everyone, I stopped

talking to him for a few hours.

I had plenty of
other stuff I had to do.

First I had to
go pay off dr Lee,

then I had to rush
over and pay the hospital.

Everything went perfectly
smooth, except one of the stacks

of bills was short a
one hundred renminbi note.

I made the difference with my
own money, then I rushed back.

Dr Lee had to explain how all
the anti-rejection drugs had to

be taken, all of
which was in mandarin.

Then I had to rush back and
collect techno, who was having a

smoke by the lobby.

He had a surgical mask pulled
down, he was wearing his black

cowboy hat and his white suit,
which was two sizes too big.

I told him about the missing
note and he said 'yeah I know,

cos I took it.'

long pause...

I was steaming.

'Let me get this straight,
you stole a hundred renminbi,

of your own money?'
Grabbed his cigarette, snuffed

it out on the ground and then
we headed to the airport.

First I had to see kung off,
and then techno and I had to

get a plane to Hong Kong.

And this is where the
story gets really fucked up.

I'd over-stayed my
visa by a couple months,

that's a big deal in China.

This caused all sorts of
alarm bells to start ringing.

Then they took
us to a holding room,

we were about to
miss our connecting flight

there was no way techno was
not going home on that flight,

so I turned to him and I said
'you go, and I'll meet you

in Hong Kong.' And that's
the second time I saw fear

in techno's eyes.

He nodded and then I had this
image in my head of him limping

away from me towards the gate.

Meanwhile, back in the holding
office another guy showed up.

He said he needed money, he
made a space between his fingers

about an inch and a half deep.

Hell, I had a wad about 50
inches deep the day before.

He had someone escort me to
a couple of atms and they

shook me down for about
seven hundred us dollars.

He was actually
a pretty nice guy.

I was about one
hour behind techno.

This is the first time
techno was unsupervised

since he arrived in China.

We were too close to
home to blow it now.

I arrived in Hong Kong and
immediately scanned every bar

and smoking room
all the way to the gate.

I finally caught up to him at
gate one hundred and something.

He didn't look so good.

In fact, he never really
looked good again after that.

He walked all the
way from gate five.

I don't know why he
didn't get a wheelchair.

At one point he sat down on a
bench that said 'wet paint.'

he had black marks going across
the back of his white suit.

We boarded the
flight to Vancouver.

He had a business class
ticket and I was in coach,

what the fuck?

I could see the top of his
cowboy hat through the curtains.

I called the flight attendant
aside and I said 'my friend

cannot drink
under any circumstances.

He's also very persuasive,
so don't be fooled.'

I was totally acting
like a cop again.

And at one point, techno
came back to coach

and sat next to me
on the flight.

He seemed so calm and
happy to be going home.

I hadn't seen techno
this happy for a long time.

With all the commotion
happening that day,

I can't remember if he took
his anti-rejection pills.

He was supposed
to take them twice.

This next part of the
story is a little hard to tell.

It seemed like we had finally
got home after this huge ordeal,

and I handed
techno off to his folks.

I sorta thought I needed
some time away from techno

for a while.

That night, techno made a turn
for the worse, and went into

pure rejection mode,
and began to turn yellow again.

He was rushed to the
Vancouver general hospital.

Over the course of
time his situation went

from bad to worse.

I couldn't believe it
when I heard the news

that techno had died.

Techno was convinced
that nothing could kill him.

The truth is, is that by this
time, there really wasn't much

keeping techno alive.

His ashes were gonna be
distributed out at the cliff

where he used to dive
off of at lighthouse park.

His father said a few words
and distributed his ashes.

Just then a big gust of wind
came and picked up that big

cloud of ash and blew it towards
this group that was about a

hundred yards downwind from us,
and they completely got dusted

with techno's ashes.

And his dad said,
kinda comically,

'son, even in death you're
still giving me troubles.'

Max

Max?

Max?

Max!

Max?!

Mmh...It's him!

Today's my
birthday and I'm treating myself

to a trip to the seaside,
as I do every year.

I love sitting down
to a meal of fresh grilled fish

with a little glass
of white wine,

overlooking the wide empty
beaches of the north coast.

Rats! There's that crackpot
from the retirement home again.

She came for me this morning.
She called me "mom."

She's clearly out to lunch.

"She'll take you to the seaside,
madame Jacqueline,

don't you worry!" They
told me at the retirement home.

Well, I do worry!

She's quite terrifying with
her big staring eyes

like a Halibut!

I can take the train on my own;
I'm not a child!

And I don't fancy
traveling with a lunatic.

That chicken reminds me
of a story.

The day my poppa brought
home a chicken.

He had chopped off its head

but the creature refused to die.

Far from being resentful, it
took quite a shine to my father,

who ended adopting it.

The creature followed him
everywhere, like a dog,

even to the factory. He was
the star of the neighborhood.

What was its name again?

Anyway, one day the cat got him.

My father was inconsolable.

He shut himself in the kitchen

and chopped the heads off
chickens for two days straight,

hoping the miracle
would happen again.

I can't wait to see the sea.

I used to bring my little girl
with me back in the day.

Oh, I'd love some fish!

I'll have to remember
to ask my grandmother

for her recipe for Dover sole.

The lunatic!

She found me!

What a nuisance she is!

My head?!

Oh, no! What have I done
with my head?

- Mom, what's wrong?

There she goes
again, calling me "mom!"

Honestly!

My head!

- Mom...

How are you doing?

- I'm fine, dear.

I'm just fine.

Marcus: What... what the?!

No�: Er, ugh, major

Marcus: What is that?

No�: What are we gonna do?

Marcus: I haven't come two
million klicks eating steak

pills to get kicked out
just arriving ok? Let's go!

No�: Wait
it could be dangerous!

Marcus: Don't worry,
we're just gonna talk.

No�: Ow, I don't like
it when you get political.

Marcus: Gentlemen, would you
be kind enough to vacate the

premises so we may properly
finish our mission of creating

a new peaceful era
for the human race.

No�: Simpler, major, simpler!

They don't
seem to understand

Marcus: Us here, you get out!

Marcus: Move or I'll
kick your sick alien ass out!!

Noe: Ah major?

Marcus: It's crazy how much
time you lose with formalities!