All language subtitles for Freaky Stories - 2x01 - Dog from Mexico+Mortician’s Daughter Pigeon Dave Hair Today, Gone…_Legendas01.ENG

¶¶¶

LARRY: Testing. Testing.
One, two, three.

Testing.

MAURICE:
Okay, bring up the lights.

LARRY:
Cue the music.

MAURICE: Here he is, your
host with the most...

The most what?

LARRY:
Just introduce me.

MAURICE:
Okay, okay.

Here he is, your
host with the most...

something or other.

Larry!

Hey, there everybody!

Whoa!
Oh!

Oh, now I get it.

The host with the most
bumps on his head.

Time for our
first Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Daniel.

Okay, so he's not my
friend, he's my brother.

Daniel and his
family, which includes me,

Mom, and Dad, went on a trip
to Mexico for Spring Break.

We were having a really good
time until one morning when

Mom thought the family
should go souvenir shopping.

We went to the local market
place and in no time we

bought everything in
sight - a sombrero,

a sarape, maracas and every
kind of trinket stamped

"Made in Mexico".

But on the way
back to the hotel,

Daniel realized that
he lost his brand new

good-luck-charm necklace.

He was standing in the road,
screaming his head off.

Dad calmed him down and told
us boys to just go back

and look for it.

Daniel and me walked down
the road looking behind

trash bins and things,
and guess what we found.

Behind an old packing
case, there was this scrawny

little puppy gnawing
away on Daniel's missing

good-luck-charm.

We called mom and
dad to come and look.

Dad said that the
animal must be some kind of

Chihuahua or something.

And I've got to admit
he was kind of cute.

Daniel was crazy
about the little guy,

even though our parents
thought he was kind of

weird looking.

So I backed off.

It would be Daniel's pet,
weird-looking as he was.

I mean the dog, not
Daniel, who's weird

in his own way.

So anyway, our Dad
looked around for its owner,

and couldn't find him, so
he decided to let Daniel

keep the dog.

They fed him,
gave him a bath,

and named him George.

George and Daniel
were like this

for the rest of the vacation.

And when it was
time to fly home,

Daniel assumed that
George was coming with him.

But Dad said 'no',
which set off

the mother of all
temper tantrums.

Daniel never screamed
that long or that hard ever.

Finally, Mom
and Dad caved in.

Moms and dads usually do.

So when we all got home -
"all" included George,

our newest family member
Daniel totally flipped out.

George was the coolest pet
that any of us ever saw.

Heck! Daniel even let
him share his food,

his bed and his bath.

He was way more fun
than a rubber duck.

I mean, can a
rubber duck fetch?

George could.

And what about
sitting up and begging,

rolling over and stuff?

No rubber duck
could do that.

But George, he was
a quick learner.

Of course George slept
in Daniel's bed mostly.

But sometimes he'd
get to sleep with me.

Even with Mom and
Dad, sometimes.

George got to
be "one of us".

And so, one day, Daniel said
that he was taking George

to school for 'Show and Tell'.

Mom didn't think this
was a very good idea

"Well the little pup'll
be scared to death,"

she said.

But Daniel
started to scream.

So Mom said 'Okay,' not
wanting to experience

another mother
of a tantrum...

since she would fold
in the end anyway.

Daniel crammed the dog into
his schoolbag and ran

to meet the bus.

A couple of hours
later the phone rang.

It was the principal.

He wanted to see Mom and Dad
in his office right away.

They jumped in the car
and raced to school.

"Uh... Is something
wrong?" asked Dad.

"What's Daniel
done this time?"

The Principal led
them down the hall

to the Science Room.

"I'm afraid there's
a little problem",

said Mr. Lamprey,
the Science Teacher.

"Tell me. Where did
you get your 'pet'?"

Mom and Dad exchanged glances.

What could be wrong,
they wondered.

Mr. Lamprey, the
Science Teacher,

told them, "Your pet
isn't from around here...

You might say that
it's a tropical breed...

And stranger still, George
isn't even a dog at all..."

Mr. Lamprey took
a deep breath.

He told them -
being real careful,

trying not to shock them -
that George was really...

"A GIANT SEWER RAT!!!"

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

And do you know anyone
who wants to buy a pet?

Real cheap.

While Larry's getting
his head taken care of,

here's another story.

Can you believe how
dumb that guy is?

You gotta be a
real nitwit...

LARRY: Maurice.
Oh, Maurice.

Yes Larry?

Ha Ha.

See that?

Missed me.

This is a true story.

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

Lulu Mortez.

My employer's daughter.

My employer is a mortician,
which is why life is

difficult for Lulu.

Growing up in a
huge creepy house,

a parking lot full of
hearses as your playground,

the basement
crammed with coffins,

over-sized
refrigerators and of course,

the dead.

And being a
mortician's daughter,

it's quite hard to throw
a really fun sleep-over.

It broke her dear mother's
heart to see the other girls

going off on their first
real dates while Lulu stayed

at home
greeting the bereaved.

So Mrs. Mortez decided
to make her daughter

the biggest, most elaborate
Sweet Sixteen Party

this town had ever seen.

But alas, the nastiest
girl in school was

Ashley Ashcroft.

Her sixteenth birthday had
been a rather posh affair at

the local country club.

And Ashley swore she would
stop at nothing before she'd

let some formaldehyde
stinking freak out-do her.

But Mrs. Mortez
did herself proud.

Instead of the usual coffin
on the raised platform,

there was a
three piece band.

The carnations were
replaced with roses.

And instead of sad sobs,
the tinkling of a raspberry

punch fountain
wafted through the room.

But in the end, it was
still a funeral parlour.

Guests were
terrified to enter alone.

Each girl put her gift on a
table in the main hall and

then creeped timidly
into the reception area.

Mr. and Mrs. Mortez were
not even there to see their

daughter's imminent
crushing disappointment.

One Mr.Parsegian, an atomic
research technician had

sadly passed away that
morning and his cremation

could not be delayed.

So Lulu's doting parents
and I were in the basement

stoking the furnace
when the nasty Ashley

finally arrived.

Ashley was late, because she
had discovered the smallest

of blemishes just
below her right cheek.

The sweet sixteen party
was already a humiliating

disaster when Ashley
wafted in like an ill-wind.

She hugged Lulu and insisted
they play a little game of

Double Dare.

"Everyone at the really fun
parties play it," she said.

"It'll be a blast!"

Ashley's first
victim, Lesley,

pulled a slip of paper from
the hat and was forced to

reveal the name of the boy
she most recently kissed

or be forever remembered
as a scaredy-cat,

party-pooper.

Then it was Lulu's turn.

Lulu put on her blindfold
and stuck her hand into the

vile concoction Ashley
smuggled into the party in a

crusty Mason jar.

Her hand went in
with a squish.

The main ingredients,
which Ashley had personally

prepared, were half-set
jelly and tapioca pudding

with a rotten egg
added for obvious effect.

Peeled grapes
slithered at the top.

And there were a few
unfortunate earth worms

near the bottom.

Ashley waited with
baited breath to hear the

inevitable scream, and
see the humiliation as Lulu

raced out of her own
Sweet Sixteen Party.

Lulu stirred her hand
round and round the slimy

substance, and pulled out
a long slithery thing and

asked, "Is this a
really dead eel or what?"

Ashley screamed and
nearly went into a fit.

Mr. and Mrs. Mortez and
I scrambled up from the

basement, I deposited the
container of what remained

of Mr. Parsegian
on the front table.

When Ashley saw
the gold-plated urn,

she knew she could
still spoil the party.

By the time I told Mr. and
Mrs. Mortez where I had put

Mr. Parsegian,
it was too late.

You see, when
Ashley arrived home,

she looked inside and
wondered what the price of

volcanic ash mud
packs were these days.

Hmmm...maybe it
would cure her blemish.

She added water and
applied liberally.

Ashley had Mr. Parsegian
plastered all over her face.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, Ashley is still
just as mean as ever.

But her skin is
truly radiant.

Get that thing outta here!

Thank you.

Ah. For our next Freaky Story -

Oof!

Ha Ha Ha.
Bingo!

Here's our next
Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

But like, how friendly can
you be with a guy who likes

to spend all his free time
sitting on his roof playing

with his telescope.

Which is why the guy
deserved the name

"Pigeon Dave".

Take the night Pigeon
Dave was on his roof,

staring at the stars
through his telescope,

like always.

Suddenly he saw this UFO.

Or so he thought.

Dave went bonkers
and called the cops.

"Hello, police," he
said, "I want to report an

unidentified flying object".

Well, yeah.
Right.

Uh, but the cop had to
come over and check it out,

because a
report is a report.

And so he climbed onto
Pigeon Dave's roof and fell.

Benny the cop was
hanging from the ledge,

hollering.

Pigeon Dave couldn't
find the UFO

so he was hollering too.

Pigeon Dave finally hoisted
old scaredy-cat Benny

onto the roof.

Fortunately, Benny was
thankful so he didn't arrest

Dave for calling
in a false alarm.

The next night, Pigeon
Dave went right back to peek

through his dumb
old telescope again.

This time, no matter
how hard he tried,

he couldn't find
stars anywhere.

But when Pigeon Dave was
finally able to focus,

he was looking at an
apartment across town.

And what Pigeon Dave
saw was one scary sight.

No, not the big fat guy
disco dancing by himself

in his window.

Down one, and to the right.

No, not the lady with the
mud pack and the curlers

gargling into her sink.

To the left!

There.

Pigeon Dave focused on a
window where the shades were

pulled down tight.

But behind the shades he
saw a shadowy silhouette.

And the shadow on the
shade was doing something

very strange.

What looked like an arm
holding something long and

pointy was coming down
over and over again

on somebody's head.

Now, Pigeon Dave was sure he
saw somebody being stabbed!!

Well, Pigeon Dave
had to call the cops.

And wouldn't you know it!

Benny took the call.

And he agreed to meet
Dave at the building.

When Benny pulled up, he
tried to look mean to show

he'd better not be
tricked this time.

Pigeon Dave told him to
look up and see for himself.

Benny looked up at
a window, and said,

"I admit the
guy's a lousy dancer,

but that ain't a
reason to arrest him."

Dave told him, "No, no,
you're looking at the

wrong window."

He pointed to the silhouette
of the arm going up and

down, and up and down.

And suddenly it stopped.

"We're too late," says Dave.

They rushed up to
the apartment door.

And that's when they heard
a grunting moaning sound.

Over and over
again, a pained,

awful groaning.

Benny said, "Step back.

This is police
business now".

And with that, he
sprung into action.

Taking three steps back,
Benny lowered one shoulder,

sized up the
door, and took off.

And WHAMO!

He bounced
right off the door.

At which point Pigeon
Dave turned the knob

and opened the door.

Inside, Gus Velour,
the big-time mobster,

was working out
in his home gym.

Every time Big Gus
lifted his legs,

the weight machine
came down on his chest.

And every time it did,
Big Gus let out this grunt.

Big Gus was not exactly
thrilled to see Benny

without a warrant.

He got off his machine and
threw his towel past the

sprawled out Benny.

Well, Benny was forced
to apologize to Big Gus,

for barging in
without an invitation,

suspecting there was a
dead body in the place.

Big Gus just stood over
him, dripping sweat onto

Benny's face.

For the second
time in two nights,

Pigeon Dave had gotten
Benny all embarrassed.

After Benny finally got
calmed down and stopped

threatening to put Pigeon
Dave in the clink and throw

away the key, Pigeon Dave
went back home and climbed

onto his roof.

He took one last look
through his trusty spyglass.

There was Big Gus Velour
looking straight at him.

And Big Gus had this
weird evil grin on his face.

And he even
winked at Pigeon Dave.

Winked and laughed...an
eerie maniacal laugh that

echoed across the roof tops.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Pigeon Dave.

Who decided that
instead of calling the cops,

he'd just call it quits.

Ahem. Our next story
is a hairy tale...

Which neither of us has.

Ahhhhhh.

I'm just trying to help.

You helped enough today.

Come on let's
get outta here.

So what'd you do
with the microphone?

Oh it was dangerous up there,
so I put it on the floor.

Right.
Whoooaaa!

[Woman with Russian accent:]
This is true story.

It happened to
friend of friend of mine,

Max, a little kid who loves
my stuffed cabbage --

which we serve in school
cafeteria on Tuesdays.

He is scrawny little guy
with glasses thicker than

phone book.

But he is how-you-say..."wiz
kid" in chemistry.

He blows up lab
three times already,

and he's only fourteen.

One day Max saw Rhonda.

The chemistry genius was
quick to develop sudden

interest in biology.

Rhonda had
blonde from a bottle,

green contact lenses,
expensive dental work,

and the brains of a...

well, this was her third
time trying to pass

Mr. Chiapetta's class.

But Max didn't care.

He was in love.

Max was only fourteen, but
Rhonda was a "sophisticated"

older woman.

She was almost sixteen.

Some men like older women
which is good thing for me.

Rhonda was dating
boys who had cars,

part-time jobs,
and they shaved.

Now, Max gets carsick
just thinking about cars,

and his parents thought a
job would interfere with his

schoolwork - Max might
get a 98 instead of a 100.

What else would
impress Rhonda?

Hair.
Manly facial hair.

Max sat in front of
mirror every morning,

but couldn't get even a
single whisker to pop out

of his skin.

So he tried
drawing mustache on,

but his mother took
back the eyeliner pencil,

and threatened to
send him for counseling.

So Max created a
chemical formula.

As soon as he mixed it up,
hair started growing on the

inside of test tube.

So Max splashed
some on cue ball.

Instant hair!

He poured some on the floor.

Instant shag carpeting!

All he had to do was
smear it on himself.

Using special gloves so that
he wouldn't get hairy palms,

put a drop of
formula on his finger,

then spread it to
his upper lip and...

well, nothing happened.

Max figured, maybe a little
more of the formula

will do it.

So he used two
times as much,

but Max's upper lip was
still bald as my papa's

shiny head.

He was getting desperate.

He smeared on more and more.

Slathered it on
in thick globs.

But when he looked at his
face in old chrome kettle,

there was not one
single new hair to be seen.

So Max gave up and
went for a stroll.

He suddenly realized he
forgot to account for the

porousness of human
skin in his formula.

You know, how it
sucks stuff up.

Maybe that is why he didn't
see the car that slammed on

the brakes as he
crossed the street.

And who should be in car but
Rhonda and her latest date,

the captain of
football team!

"Look what you did.

You almost
scratched the paint!"

Max who was scared to death,
threw his hands in front of

his face.

And that's when he felt it.

Hair!

The formula worked!

Then Max snarled at Randy.

That's right, snarled.

And Randy ran away!

Max wondered why he snarled.

But no time to
worry about that,

because there stood
the love of his life.

Max walked up to Rhonda, who
was screaming with fright.

"It's okay".

"It's me.
I'm fine."

But then, he saw in
car mirror why Rhonda

was screaming.

You see, it took a while
for the formula to work,

but it worked good,
a little too good.

Max, the chemistry genius,
turned himself into a

WEREWOLF!

[howls]

Like I said, this
was a true story.

It happened to friend
of friend of mine.

Max.

Who still doesn't have
an after school job,

but now he's moonlighting.

Hey, here's Larry's Old Bag.

Our mail bag.

Yeah, let's see
what we got here.

Okay, Ahem.

Oh, it's from
Hector from Edmonton.

Yeah, no let's see...

Dear Larry; last month I
wrote you about my problem.

Hmm...

Oh I remember.

Hector's a termite who
was allergic to wood.

You told me to get that
sticky shelf paper

that looks like wood.

Problem is, all that glue on
the back of the sticky paper

caused a gastro
intestinal blockage.

Maurice -
What's on your face?

Um, nothing.

Did a viewer send
me a chocolate cake?

Uh. No.
[belch]

Oh. Devil's Food!
I love Devil's Food!

Come here, you.

¶¶¶