All language subtitles for 35 - Touche

Good evening, amigos:

I fear the day of the
illiterate swordsman has passed.

They seem to be spending
so much time writing,

that they are neglecting
the really important work,

skewering opponents.

It's a very unhealthy
state of affairs.

Take this gentleman,
for example. Listen.

He couldn't possibly
win a duel,

yet, he can write
60 words a minute.

Now, here is someone who
can neither duel nor write,

but can speak volumes,

and insists on doing so.

Back early today,
Mr. Fleming?

Yeah. I took about a hundred
yard walk into the woods

with my young
friend here,

shot the lid
off a can

and decided
I needed a drink.

Smartest decision
I've made this year.

Otto, I'd like
a bourbon sour,

one of those triple-action
specials you do so well.

What about you?

The same, please.

Oh, boy.

What time did I stop
drinking last night?

I'm not sure.

You left here at 2:00
in the morning,

but you were carrying
a full bottle by the neck.

Did I talk a lot?

Let's just say
that you talked.

Well, I don't see why I should be
bending your ear with my troubles.

Say, I only met
you yesterday.

It was about her,
wasn't it? My wife?

Yes, you talked
about her quite a bit,

but that wasn't
topic "A."

You kept saying that
you wanted to kill a man.

I mean, you went
to some length about it.

Did I?

I told you about my wife,
how she cheats on me.

She makes up to every man she
meets except her own husband.

Well, you were fairly
graphic about it, Bill.

I can't say that you
skipped many details.

You know, thinking
about it academically...

Academically
in a moose's eye!

I must have had a hole in my head the
size of an apple the day I married her.

A cute, little free-wheelin'
22-year-old cupcake,

and me, just passed 50
Saturday before.

Sure, I could kill Baxter, if
you really, really want to know...

Thank you, Otto.

Thank you.

Look, it's none
of my business,

but, why this exclusive
grievance against Baxter?

From what you've told me,
he's not exactly the only one.

Let's say that he's
the reigning favorite

and the only one in the pack
that I used to consider a friend.

That makes a
difference, you know.

A man my age and the two of
them carrying on like monkeys.

'Course I could kill him, the
only trouble is he won't fight.

That would never
do at all. I mean,

your fists would be considered
lethal weapons in a court of law.

You were a professional
fighter once.

How did you know that?

I read an article about you
just a few weeks ago

in Hunting and
Sportsman's Annual:

Oh, that.

Why try to shrug it off, Bill?

Look, I was as
impressed as the editors.

Let me give you the simple rundown
as they had it in the magazine.

"Bill Fleming, ex-lumberjack,
professional prizefighter,

"prospector, war hero,
lumber tycoon

"and millionaire. "

Not necessarily
in that order.

Look, here's to you. I won't
pretend I wasn't impressed.

Go ahead.
Enjoy yourself.

Otto, how
about a refill?

I was ahead of you
this time, Mr. Fleming.

That's the way to do it.
Thanks.

Now just what is that
supposed to be?

It's for plucking olives
from martinis, Bill.

No self-respecting saloon
would be without one.

No, I was thinking of
that same article I read.

It said that you've managed to
put together the finest private

collection of dueling
weapons in California.

Oh, yes.

That's just icing
on the cake,

you know, a wig
for a bald personality,

if you get
what I mean.

I was collecting the stuff
because I was trying to keep

that popular sportsman legend
still alive, you know.

The house is hung with them
like cooked spaghetti.

They dangle
everywhere.

Believe me, right now I wouldn't
trade you a good fish knife

for the whole lot of them.

I was trying to be
somebody or something

that I never am
going to be.

But that Baxter...

Cocky rooster never
worked a day in his life,

never fought his way
out of a paper towel.

He didn't need
a phony prop like that.

And there he is with Laura now,
in my house, the two of them,

as cozy as
lice in a locket.

Bill?

Hmm?

Did you ever think of...
Do you ever think of

challenging Baxter to...

To a duel?

What?

I know this sounds...

'Course, as I said before,
I'm only speaking academically.

Academically I've learned, you
know, since I've been talking to you

smart, young fellows,

it means you're wrapping
a bomb in a package

that'll look like
two pounds of fudge.

All right, let's just say then that the
whole thing, you know, it fascinates me.

Why?

You talked last night and again today
how you'd like to kill this Baxter

and, in a technical sense,
not murder him.

Am I close to the truth?

Close to it? You're
sitting right on top of it.

As much as I hate Baxter, I
like the gas chamber even less.

All I want to do is belt him
in the mouth about three times,

wring his neck, and then throw him
through a tightly locked window.

Bill, you're a throw-back to
the days of the old wild west,

but for an
ex-professional fighter,

I'm afraid that wouldn't be
the most strategic approach.

As I told you before, I'll be taking
my bar examination in the spring,

so I'm more fascinated by the legal and
the personal aspects of your situation.

But what's dueling
got to do with it?

I'm getting to that.

I'm trying to tell you
that under California law,

they still grant special
consideration to anyone who damages

or, for that matter,

kills another
person in a duel.

You see, there are all
sorts of odd provisions

remaining on the statutes
from the days of Spanish rule.

Did you know that?

I don't know my left ear
from Yosemite National Park,

but that doesn't mean
I'm not willing to learn.

Actually, what I'm talking about is
pretty well covered in Section 33478

of the civil code.

You see, it still remains
in the minds of most of us

that a duel represents
an affair of honor,

so that the conditions in your
own case, they couldn't be better.

I mean, you've said
before that your...

You've said before that your
wife's affair with Baxter is on

what you might somewhat call a
semi-public scale, haven't you?

If you mean they've done
everything but sell tickets, yeah.

And that plus the fact that Baxter was for
a brief time one of your closest friends?

Listen, I can tell you
this right now.

The average jury would
vote you three cheers

and a bottle of your favorite brandy
if you killed Baxter in a duel.

If I were able to represent you
I could guarantee an acquittal.

Not that we're talking
seriously, of course.

We're only speculating.

No, no, no, hold on a minute,
will you? I'm gonna think.

No, it's ridiculous.
It'll never work.

A man who won't fight with his hands
hasn't much belly for any other things.

I know Baxter.

I'd go down there and he'd
just stand and smile at me.

He'd say, "Hello, Bill,
help yourself. "

Make me feel like an
assassin or an idiot.

A man can be made
to fight with swords.

Not Baxter.
You don't know Baxter.

Any man, Bill,
if you goad him enough,

stick him enough.

Just keep it up
is what I mean, until...

Well, if he has a weapon at hand,
he's going to defend himself.

Any kind of a creature will
fight under certain circumstances,

a saint, a worm or...

Or your Mr. Baxter.

How academic
are you being now?

Well, how academic
would you like me to be?

You live in
California, don't you?

Sure. Just across the border
about 300 miles from here.

And it's country like this,
isn't it?

Yeah. Big. Stick a pig and
nobody would ever hear him holler.

You want a drink?
Huh?

You want
another drink?

No. No, I don't think so.

I can't afford to
get drunk today.

Oh, hello.

Why back so soon?

Isn't the hunting
any good up there?

The hunting was
lousy up there.

But I think it's gonna
get better from now on.

Get up on your feet.

Come on, now. Let's not spoil
the pleasant evening, old boy.

Are you drunk, dear?
Drunk as usual?

Not as usual. This time,
a little differently.

Something new
has been added.

Drunk or sober, dear, no man can impersonate
The Three Musketeers by himself.

This is not going to be
a solo performance.

I repeat my invitation.
Get up on your feet!

What's this
supposed to be?

A parlor game to
end all parlor games.

I'm going to kill you.

Oh, sure, Bill.
Yes, Bill.

Do you mind if I finish
my martini first?

This is pretty strong
for kid stuff, isn't it?

Get up, Baxter.
Get up.

Honestly, Bill.

Laura, I think maybe you better
fix our boy a nice soothing drink

or else help him get his
head under the shower.

Now look, Bill, all jokes
aside now, fun is fun.

Yeah, so they tell me, especially
when the husband's away.

If you had the guts of a
mouse, you'd pick up that saber.

And not make me stick
you like a side of beef.

You know something? He could be
just foolish enough to believe this.

I don't want to spoil
anybody's party,

but maybe you better
just call the cops.

Stop it! Are you
out of your mind?

Maybe I am. Maybe I am just
enough to get this job done right.

Stop it!

Bill, listen!

Laura, Laura, talk to him!

I don't think
he's fooling.

I don't think
he's fooling at all.

They're only skin wounds.
You're just as healthy as I am.

And you know as much about
swords as I do. Anybody does!

Now, pick it up and fight!

Can't we talk
about it, Bill?

Talk about what? You're better off
fighting than you are bleeding to death.

I'm gonna
stick you again!

Oh, no, you don't!
Stand up and fight!

Hi, Dan. I kind of
figured you'd be here.

What happened to you?

Nothing much happened to me.
I killed a man, that's all.

I figured you boys would
be entitled to know.

You killed a man?

I don't believe that.

You're not drunk,
are you, Bill?

I'm not drunk at all. I
just killed a man in a duel.

In a duel? Now I
know you're drunk.

Look, this happens to be
nineteen hundred and...

Nineteen hundred and doomsday,
especially for Phil Baxter.

I ran a saber through his
belly about 20 minutes ago.

Baxter?

You mean you came
back here early from...

Go ahead and say it, Dan.
Don't worry about my feelings.

I came back early and
I found him with Laura.

It's not a surprise
to you, is it?

I mean, it wasn't
any secret, was it?

No, Bill, I guess not.

As a matter of fact, I don't think
anybody will blame you too much.

Now, as a cop, I
shouldn't be saying that.

As a friend, well, there
isn't much I can do except

call the chief
and get him out of bed.

I know, Dan.
It's your job.

A saber, Bill?

Well, you can bet it
wasn't a Scout knife.

You've seen that stuff
I have up at the house.

Baxter, did he
have a chance?

He had a saber. He had
the same chance I had, Dan.

Wouldn't you say?

Like I said, I gotta call
the chief and the coroner.

They'll want to go out
to your house right away.

One another thing, about
your wife. Is she all right?

Depends on what
you call all right.

If you mean did
I do anything to her,

the answer is "no. "

Maybe I should have.
Maybe I even wanted to,

but I've never been
any good with women.

The chief is never gonna
believe this, I'm telling you.

After all the times you, me
and him went fishing together.

Oh, another thing, Bill,
a friendly tip.

It might be smart to call
your lawyer on that other phone

before you do any more
talking to me or anybody else.

I got you.

Chief Brewster, please.

I don't pretend to make any
excuse for what happened.

If I told you I
had any noble motive

other than satisfying my anger
and my humiliation, I'd be lying.

It's, well...

Just a case of I came home that
night when they didn't expect me

and I found the two
of them together,

and what happened after that,
I've told you time and again.

How long had you
known Philip Baxter?

Not too long.
About a year and a half.

I didn't know
much about his affairs,

and there was a time there when I
considered him a pretty close friend.

And then I began
to hear things.

And I realized that it wasn't
any secret to a lot of people

that my wife and Baxter
were carrying on together.

All I wanted to do was punch
his nose or break his neck.

Did you attempt to punch Philip
Baxter the night he was killed?

No, sir.
Why not?

Well, nothing would have
pleased him more.

See, I was a professional
fighter in my younger days.

And, well,
I outweighed him 40 pounds.

How do you believe it would have
pleased him if you had hit him?

Well, the same way
it would please little guys

that don't weigh more
than a pair of wet socks

that used to throw
punches at Jack Dempsey,

just in the hopes that the
champ would clobber them one

and they could
drag him into court.

Baxter knew I had money. And he wanted
that as much as he wanted my wife.

I see.

Now, Mr. Fleming,
I must ask you again,

if in this duel you fought with
him, Philip Baxter was equally armed?

Baxter had exactly
the same weapon I did.

Thank you.

It's good to have
real friends.

Mr. Fleming?
Yes.

Mr. Fleming, the judge would like
to see you inside with Mr. Faber.

Now? Now, if you
don't mind, sir.

Sit down.

Now, frankly, gentlemen,
I feel that this jury,

sentimental as their
approach might have been,

was entitled to return
a verdict of not guilty.

I think that my instructions to
them reflected my own feelings.

Do you agree,
George?

Oh, completely, sir.

Good. Now, we'll get on
with the matter at hand.

Now, just as Bill was the beneficiary of
the liberal provisions of the civil code

in reference to duels,

I feel that I must in all
conscience give due consideration

to another provision
of Section 33478.

And I'll quote,

"If any person slays or
permanently disables another person

"in a duel
in this state,

"the person must provide
for the widow or wife

"of the person slain or permanently
disabled, and for the children

"in such a manner
and at such a cost,

"either by aggregate
compensation in damages to each,

"or by a monthly, quarterly, or annual
allowance to be determined by the court. "

Having anticipated this, I can tell you
both that the deceased, Philip Baxter,

was a widower.

But he is survived by a son.

Now bearing in mind the substantial
wealth of the successful duelist,

I have already decided to award
the son an aggregate compensation

in the amount of $100,000,

plus a monthly allowance
of $1,000 per month for life.

Well, isn't that
terribly steep?

For a man's life?
What do you think, Bill?

To be rid of Baxter
and a free man myself,

it's cheap
at half the price.

I'll go in with you, Bill.

No, never mind.

Just gonna throw
a few things in the bag.

You can drive me
back to that hotel.

I'm not sure if I heard
someone, darling.

Music is so loud.

Well, hello,
dear. Welcome.

I thought I heard you
stumbling around outside.

Can I make you a drink?

We have company.

You expect me
to be surprised?

Yes, dear.

Naturally, I never
mentioned to you before

that I was
Philip Baxter Jr.

After all,
that would've...

Well, that would've
spoiled the fun.

My feeling is that, well, we
should put the past behind us, Bill,

and since I'm going to be your
guest for the next 50 years or so,

well,

would you mind
if I called you "Dad"?

This is not quite
the end of our story.

One duel later,
Junior was dead

and Fleming was in prison.

I believe I see a very
rich and pompous land owner

approaching with another
one minute proclamation.

I shall return anon.

I'm quite excited.

I have here
the very latest model.

It has tremendous
commercial possibilities.

You see, this one
writes underwater.

Now, if we can just get
the bankers to approve.

Next week we shall be
back with another story.

Until then,

good night.

Subtitles: PaNdOrA