All language subtitles for Freaky Stories - 1x04 - Take This Job and Love It!_Legendas01.ENG

¶ [SPOOKY THEME
MUSIC THROUGHOUT] ¶

¶¶

MAURICE: Larry?
Larry, where are you?

Larry! Come on out. Lar-ry!!!

Larry where are you...Larry.

Larry, Larry!

You've got to start the show?

Can't you read? I'm on strike.

Good. Now start the show.

That's it. You,
like everyone else,

thinks Larry will
always be here.

What are you talking about?

Forget strike...

That's better.

I quit!

What? No you can't, you can't!

Oh yeah. I'm outta here.

Oh No! Larry!

[FARTS]

Would you cut that out.

I'm sorry. It happens
when ever I get tense.

Well, relax, loosen up.
Will ya?

Okay -- this is
your host, Larry,

introducing our first...
and my last...

[BELCH]

Freaky Story.
You're gonna love it.

Would you cut that out!

HIGH SCHOOLER LORI:
This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of
a friend of mine. Josh.

You know, the really
cute guy who sits

next to me in chemistry.

All Josh really cares
about is his car.

It's not even that special.
But he's always fixing

and tinkering with it.

He never looks up.

Once, when I was walking by,

for the tenth or twelfth
time that hour,

he asked me to hand
him a ratchet wrench.

I'm pretty sure he
recognized my hand.

Anyway, that car of his
costs him a fortune.

Which is why, I guess, Josh
ended up taking that job

at the pizza joint.

There was this notice up on
the school bulletin board.

The pizza parlour was
looking for a new driver.

Had to have his own wheels.

So Josh met the owner
for an interview.

Which mostly consisted of the
guy tossing a pizza

while asking Josh if he could
begin right away.

Since Sidney, the last
delivery kid went out with

a pizza and never came back.

Josh asked about the pay,
which he learned was

minimum wage, and tips.

Unless of course, a
pizza took longer than

thirty minutes to deliver.

Then the cost of the pizza
came out of his pocket.

He could live with that,
so Josh got a hat,

and a uniform shirt,
with his name on it.

Around ten thirty, the boss
said he had to leave,

but that he's made up
a couple of pizzas.

Josh could pop them in the
oven and drop them off

on his way home.

So there was Josh, his first
night on the job,

sitting in the pizza joint
waiting for the clock

to hit eleven.

At five to, the phone rang.
It was a girl.

Kind of sexy voice, asking
for a couple of pizzas.

No problem. He'd be there in
thirty minutes or it was free.

Josh baked the pizzas,
closed the restaurant

and headed for his car.

And he still had fifteen
minutes to make

a seven minute trip.

But suddenly,

[SCREEECH-CLUNK]

The car limped to a stop.

Josh jumped out, flipped up
the hood, and tinkered until,

he got the engine
to crank up again.

He raced the rest of the way.

But it had been more
than thirty minutes!

Josh knocked on the door
of a big dark house.

A very pretty girl came
to the door.

Poor Josh, he was so
embarrassed.

He apologized for being
late, and begged her not

to tell his boss.

The girl just laughed,

and told him she'd
pay for the pizzas,

so why didn't he just
come in and wait till

she found her purse. She
asked Josh if he was hungry.

She thought maybe
he'd like to join her

for some of that pizza.

Well, Josh figured it was
okay, since he was on

his own time now, and he
was kind of hungry.

She asked Josh to get some
soft drinks from the fridge

in the basement, and she
handed him a candle.

So he went down
these creaky old stairs,

and when he got to the bottom,

he tripped and the
candle went out.

Josh, took out his pocket
flashlight, and shone it

around the gray,
wet dripping walls.

No fridge. But there was a
door. And he opened it.

Inside was a coat rack.

And on each hook was
a Pizza shirt,

just like his.

Each with a different
name on it.

The closest one said "Sidney".

He turned to go, and
standing in the doorway

was the girl holding the
largest sharpest pizza cutter

he'd ever seen.

She just smiled
at him and said,

"How many slices can
I make you".

[SCREAMS]

[TIRES SCREECH]

This is a true story.

Happened to a friend
of a friend of mine.

Josh, who turns white as a
ghost whenever I ask him

if he'd like to go out for
a pizza some time.

He's so cute.

Good evening ladies and germs.

You know, a funny thing
happened on my way

to the diner today.
[LAUGHS]

A slug came up and,
asked me for five dollars

for a cup of slime?"

I said, "slime doesn't
cost 5 dollars

it only costs a dollar."

He said, "Yeah but,
I'm a big tipper."

[LAUGHS]

[COUGHS]

But seriously.

[LARRY CLEARS HIS THROAT]

I, er, Hi Larry ...
I didn't know you

were still here.

Man oh man, he must
want my job...real bad.

He can't even tell a...

Anyway, here's our next...

Freaky Story.

It's one... It's one
of my favorites...

BOTH: Aaaaaaaeeeee!!!!!

MARGIE: This is a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine.

And I'd like to get a lot
more friendly with him,

if you get my drift.

His name's Al. Big Al.

Pecs like watermelons,

biceps like papayas,
quads like cantaloupes.

Al's one yummy fruit salad.

Makes a good living too.
Installs carpets.

So what's his flaw?

His cigar. Always stuck
in his face.

One day, Al goes to install
some nylon-poli shag

in this house, where the lady,
a kind of prissy old thing,

sees Al's cigar and
lets him know,

she doesn't want to see that
thing inside her house.

And what a home it was.

Beautiful furniture, lots of
fancy pictures,

antiques all over the place,
and hanging from the ceiling,

a real fancy bird cage that
belonged in a museum...

like some kind of wire palace.

Oh, yeah, there was a
bird in it, a little canary

the lady called Queenie.

Well, Al clears out the
furniture into the other room.

But when he goes to
move the bird cage,

the lady says

Queenie stays. That cage
isn't on the floor

and besides, she says,

Queenie likes
to observe people.

Well, Al hauls in the carpet
and starts laying it out.

Now, there's no one in the
room, except him and Queenie.

So he starts talking
to the bird.

Now, the bird's not talking
back, except for a little

tweet now and then, but Al
is feeling some kind of...

what do you call it?

Affinity.

Now, here's where the cigar
comes into the story.

When the lady says she's got
to go out to buy bird food,

Al sees his chance to
get a couple of chomps

on his cigar stub.

So there he is,
chompin' on the cigar,

chit-chattin' with Queenie

and installing the
nylon-poli shag,

stretching and banging the
carpet onto the tacks

along the baseboards.

On it goes,
Chomp-chomp. Gab-gab.

Bang-bang. Chomp-chomp.

Gab-gab. Bang-bang.

After a while,

Al got to thinking
Queenie was kind of sad,

being locked in her cage.

So he opened the door and
Queenie flew out.

Al sat back against the wall,
rolled the cigar butt

around in his mouth and
watched his little

feathered pal have the
time of her life...

until he heard the key
in the door.

Al stashed the cigar
butt in his pocket

and tried to get
Queenie back into her cage.

But that bird would
have no part of it.

When the lady came back,

Al tried to stand
between her and the cage

so she wouldn't
notice it was empty.

But wouldn't you know it, the
bird comes in and lands

right on Al's shoulder.

All he could do was
paste on a weak,

namby- pamby kinda grin.

But the lady, she
just laughs and laughs.

Because, she tells Al, she
always lets Queenie

out of the cage. Well, this
is a big relief to Al,

who goes back to work.

And now, with all that
time he wasted playing

with the bird, he was
way behind schedule.

So he just worked faster.

In what seemed like no time,

Al was standing in the
doorway, calling the lady

to inspect the
beautiful job he did.

And when she came to stand
beside him, she pointed

to the center of the
floor where there

was a bump in the carpet.

"What in the world is that?"

Now, Al knows that when
he shoved the cigar

into his pocket,

it must have fallen out and
got caught under the carpet.

But he's not about to confess
he was chomping on his cigar.

So he says,
"Little air pocket."

And he takes out his mallet

and whacks the air pocket flat.

So Al gets the work order
signed and is out the door

like a shot.

And while he's
getting into his truck,

he's stuffing the work
order into his pocket,

and there it is. His cigar.

And then it hits him.

If he's got the cigar stub,
what was under the rug?

And just then, the lady comes
running out of the house,

screaming, "Queenie! Queenie!
Where's my little Queenie?"

And that was a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine, Al,

who's grown to a flabby
three hundred pounds

since he quit
installing carpets.

Oh man, oh man, this job
hunting is bulogna.

The interviews, man
they're killing me.

Oh, sorry, Mr. Money Man,
business is not for me.

Uh-uh...

'cause I got show
business in my blood.

¶¶

Maestro.

¶ I GOTTA DANCE MY DANCE
AND SING MY SONG. ¶

¶ I GOTTA ENTERTAIN YOU
ALL NIGHT LONG. ¶

¶ I GOTTA WARBLE AND CROON
A HAPPY OLD TUNE ¶

¶ AND TWINKLE MY TOES
SO HERE'S HOW IT GOES. ¶

¶ [TAP DANCING] ¶

Get the feet! Get the feet!

¶ [TAP DANCING] ¶

[LAUGHS]

How embarrassing.

Well good bye, everybody.

I'm sure they'll find
someone to take my place...

Oh ya and...

Roll the next story.

[LAUGHS]

JIMMY'S BUD:
This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine...

Jimmy was the best. When it
came to getting a story,

Jimmy was a photo journalist
in a class by himself...

a stringer for the tabloids.

He could put together a
story like no one else.

One day, Jimmy got a lead on a
bunch of UFO nuts out in the

New Mexico desert, at
this "Area 51" place.

They're saying that a UFO
crashed there back in '47

and that the Army had the
spaceship and the aliens

locked away on ice.

That night, Jimmy was
scoping out "Area 51";

a few square miles of scrub
desert, with some tumble down

Quonset huts and a couple
of weather beaten

airplane hangars.

The whole pile of worthless
real estate was surrounded

by a gleaming, stainless
steel chain-link

and barbed-wire
fence, and cameras.

To a guy like Jimmy, where a
Keep Out sign is a welcome mat

-- a set-up like this was
an engraved invitation.

He broke out his gear, found
a dry gully, hid the car

under a pile of tumble
weeds and set out on foot.

Then he used his alligator
clips to bypass

the deadly electrified
fence. Piece o' cake!

The hangar where the space
stuff was stashed was

a couple hundred yards
from the fence.

From a distance, it
looked like a breeze

would knock it over.

But up close -
solid as a rock.

A titanium re-enforced rock.

So he slipped his
skeleton key into the lock.

The door swung open
and he was in.

He quietly shut the door
and surveyed the inside

of the hangar as he adjusted
the night vision goggles.

There were things
there in the hangar.

It was difficult to make out
the strange shapes

through the goggles.

These things were obviously
a product of a superior

alien technology.

The pictures would be
worth a fortune.

He kept snapping away.

The infrared film would pick
up all of the detail....

Suddenly --

[SIREN BLARES]

Jimmy must have
tripped an alarm --

or maybe they found the car!

Quickly, he rewound
and unloaded the film

and hid it in the
cuff of his pants.

Then reloaded
and kept shooting.

That's how the MP's found him.

They ripped the film
outta the camera,

and marched Jimmy
to the guard house.

But if they arrested him, it
would mean them telling

something about this
place to the local cops.

So they let Jimmy go.

He jumped in the car and
hightailed it out of there.

Now Jimmy, not being
one to waste time,

was on the phone as he drove.

He'd whipped the editors of
the tabloids into a frenzy

for his exclusive pictures of
the alien spacecraft.

He pulled into the
paper's parking lot,

presented the editor with the
precious film canister

and collected a very heavy
suitcase full of green stuff.

They ran the canister to the
photolab where it was scanned

into the paper's
mainframe computer.

Then it was e- mailed to
the print department

and two hours later,
newspapers hit the streets

all across the country.

One small problem.

No one had actually bothered
to look at Jimmy's pictures

before they were printed.

Jimmy never even actually saw
what he was photographing.

So you can imagine the uproar
when Jimmy's pictures of

an alien spaceship
turned out to be the

Army's new Top
Secret Potato Peeler.

Of course, Jimmy was fired.

So a few months later,
Jimmy was working

as a Private Detective.

He was tailing this
businessman and his girlfriend

through the museum, taking
pictures for the guy's wife

to use in her divorce case.

Jimmy was snapping and
when he backed up

to get a better view.

He bumped into a
big display case.

He turned, and that's when
he came face to face

with an old "friend".

It was the Alien and
it's Spaceship:

From Roswell, New Mexico.

Hidden away in plain sight

where no one
would ever find it.

Hey. It's a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine, Jimmy.

Turns out the spaceship had
been right there, in the

museum since about 1947. But
Jimmy can't tell anyone...

Who would believe him..?

And now, as the new host
of Freaky Stories,

I am proud to
introduce to you...

How could they
possibly hire you???

Well, they said, that if
I can control myself --

you know what happens
when I get tense --

Oh and what makes you tense?

Well you know someone
staring at me or something.

Right.

And now, for our
next Freaky Story...

This next story is one
of the freakiest...

[RASPBERRY SOUND]

Excuse me...

Hey, that wasn't me!

Okay, where was I?
Oh, okay, this...

[RASPBERRY SOUND]

I swear! I'm not doing that!

[RASPBERRY SOUND]

Now that was me!

Thank you! Roll the next one.

I'm still the fairest story
introducer of them all.

Heh-heh-heh-heh...

Oh Maurice!

GAS STATION OWNER:
This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine, Moody.

Owns the Moody's Motel.

Can't miss it. Big sign says,

"Moody's Motel - Home of
Moody's Miracle Blunder Bed."

Last Saturday night, Len, a
big friendly moose of a guy,

wheeled into the motel parking
lot. He was dead tired and

wanted nothing more than a
good night's sleep.

Len rang the office buzzer
and woke up Moody.

"Are you nuts?" boomed
Moody, "It's 2 A.M!"

Len pasted on a smile and
introduced himself as

the last of a dying breed of
salesman travelling across

this great country.

"It's fifty bucks for a room."

Len couldn't help asking about
Moody's Miracle Blunder Beds,

were they included in
the room charge?

Moody nodded and cracking a
smug smile he answered,

"Everything at
Moody's is included.

I guarantee it'll be a sleep
you'll never forget."

With that, Len strutted out
the door with a room key.

Len set his appointment book
exactly how he liked it

on the night stand so
he could check it

first thing in the morning.

Then, he searched for the
bed's massage control

but couldn't find it anywhere.

This had better be a Miracle
Blunder Bed, Len thought.

And it better be working.

He picked up the phone and
tried to get Moody.

But there was no answer.

Frustrated, he flopped down
on the mattress.

Just then, he heard a faint,
weird, almost mechanical,

rubbing sound.

Len thought it was the distant
roar of the highway

or maybe ringing in his ears
from listening to too much

of that New Country radio.

Then he felt something
at his fingertips.

He ripped back the bed covers
and saw that the mattress

was moving.

Must be touch activated.

Len grinned, as he
slipped into the

inviting Miracle Blunder Bed.

It felt like a
thousand busy fingers

were massaging his body.

All his aches and pains
from knocking on doors

just slipped away.

Its soothing fingers,
just dragged him into

a deep dreamy sleep.

Until 10:00 the next
morning, when he woke up.

Len sprang out of the
bed feeling like

he could sell anything.

I could surely sell Moody's
Miracle Blunder Beds...

hundreds of 'em... thousands!

He burst out of the room
and sprinted to

the motel office babbling
something about

the deal of a lifetime.

Len begged Moody to tell him
who manufactured his beds.

"I could sell them to every
motel in the country...

in the whole world!"

Moody shrugged, "I make them
myself for my motel and

I'm not interested in selling
them to anybody else."

But Len kept pressing and
pressing until the motel owner

slammed the door
in Len's face.

Len was crushed and
he drove away.

But before too long, he
realized he had forgotten

his treasured appointment
book back at the motel.

Len knew one thing, he
could try to live without

Moody's Miracle Blunder
Beds but he couldn't live

without his appointment book.

So he hung a U-turn
and headed back.

Len found his book on the
floor between the bed

and the night stand.

As he reached for it, he
noticed the mattress move.

It kinda freaked him out
because he hadn't touched

the bed to activate
its massage fingers.

He picked up his
appointment book,

then noticed a small hole
in the side of

the bulging mattress.

Of course, thought Len, the
Miracle Blunder Bed's

secret massage mechanism.

If I can get a look at that
mechanism, who needs Moody?

Len put his eye up
to the hole,

but it was too small to see
what was moving inside.

So he poked his finger in to
make it bigger.

Just then, the mattress ripped
open, spilling thousands

of cockroaches all over
him! Cockroaches!

No magic anything.
Just roaches.

Len ran from the
room covered with bugs.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of
a friend of mine, Len,

who's still selling
encyclopedias,

but now travels in an RV.

And yes, he makes his own bed.

Ladies and gentlemen, the
producers will announce

the name of our
permanent host next week.

Thank you.

Hey, boss, you can't do this!
I need this job!

Okay please...

Please don't let me go.
Ple-e-e-e-a-se...

I'll do anything you want.

I'll... I'll sweep the floor.

I'll carry your bags.
I'm on my knees here.

I'll do anything!

...Anything

... well not quite anything

I'm begging you. Pleading...

I need this job!
[SOBS]

Hey, Was that acting, or what?

Let's face it with talent like
mine, who needs a real job?

[SNICKERS]
See ya next week...

I hope.