All language subtitles for Freaky Stories - 2x02 - Murray and the Rats Safe At Home The Gift Maple Syrup_Legendas01.ENG

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LARRY:
Hey. This is an exciting show.

You see, Maurice wants to
bring you some really

special stuff.

He says he's got the
Abominable Snowman.

He said he went
to the coldest,

bleakest, Northest part of
Canada's Yukon Territory.

Maurice even got a
satellite hookup.

So, right after
tonight's first story,

we're gonna bring you
Maurice and Sasquatch.

The one without the
fur will be Maurice.

So, here we go.

Our first Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Murray, the landlord at my
old apartment in the Pittman

Building on Twelfth Street?

Actually, everybody
called it the Pit,

'cause it was such
a disgusting hole.

But it didn't matter to
me, 'cause I'm a travelling

salesman -- a hole to
call my own is all I need.

Besides, the worst part of
living in the Pit wasn't how

disgusting it was, it was
having to put up with Murray.

Murray the Moocher
was a real prize.

For instance, when Murray
came to collect the rent,

it would always
be at mealtime.

He would stick around
and mooch his dinner.

Or when he'd help someone
take in their groceries he'd

always mooch a
few cans and boxes.

And if anyone complained
about a leak water pipe,

Murray would charge
them extra for having

a second shower.

In fact, the last time
Murray paid to repair

anything in the
building was 1972,

when he bought an eye piece
for his doorway so he could

see when the building
inspectors were coming.

Now one thing I'll say for
Murray, most landlords don't

like you having
pets, but at the Pit,

the "pets" came free
with the apartment.

You guessed it -- Murray's
apartments all had rats.

And we're not talking
furry little cartoon mice.

We're talking rats the
size of Checker cabs,

with all the attitude and
charm of Attila the Hun.

Now, like I said, I'm
a travelling salesman.

So one particular month,
the company gives me this

perfume to unload.

Well, actually, it was
supposed to be perfume,

but they'd
tested it on rats,

and did it stink, the smell
of this stuff drove the rats

crazy!

They couldn't stand it!

The company was stuck
with 5,000 cases,

so I figured, "Hey!

Why not sell it
as rat spray?"

With Murray, I've got
a ready-made customer

in my own building.

One whiff of this stuff,
and it's good-bye rats,

hello potential
rent increases.

So I go down to see Murray.

It was the first time I'd
ever been to his basement

apartment.

Oh ho, looking around,
I wasn't eager

for a return trip.

It was filthy!

Anyway, I went into my
pitch about the rat spray,

but all Murray says is: "I
didn't pay for them to come

here, so why should I
pay for them to leave?"

But old Mr. Crandall, who's
always hanging around in the

hallway, he
overheard our conversation,

and decides to
order a bottle.

And he tells
Mrs. Thomas in 5E,

and she tells Mr.
Gillings in 2A...

and before you know it, I'd
sold out my entire inventory

to every tenant
in the building!

Murray, of
course, is loving this.

Without having
to spend a dime,

he's gonna get a
rat-free building.

And he can charge
double the rent!

Pretty soon, everybody's
spraying every nook and

cranny of their apartments.

Me included.

It smelled kinda
like old sweat socks,

but the rats -- they
couldn't STAND it.

They were running
around everywhere,

trying to get
away from the smell.

Within minutes the whole
building was as rat-free

as a cat convention.

The perfume really worked!

But where had
all the rats gone?

The one place that
hadn't been sprayed?

Murray's apartment!

A bunch of us went down there,

and it was crawling with
hundreds and hundreds of

sharp-toothed,
squeaky, foul-smelling rats!

There was nowhere
else for them to go.

They were eating
everything in sight --

food, furniture, everything!

And in the corner,
there was Murray,

cowering like a baby.

Then we saw what was -- for
Murray -- the most horrific

thing of all: the rats had
eaten all the rent money

Murray had been collecting
for years...which was hidden

in the bottom
of cereal boxes,

where robbers wouldn't look.

But rats just
LOVE cereal boxes!

That was a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Murray, who now insists
on everyone paying

their rent...
in coins.

Hi, there, from the Yukon.

I have Sasquatch in sight
and I'll show him to you as

soon as we get the
cameras defrosted enough

to move 'em.

So, back to you, Larry.

While we're waiting, let's
have our next Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Jenny was never
afraid of anything.

Even as a kid you couldn't
get a scare out of her.

Not with spiders.

Not with snakes.

Not with nothing.

Billy Crichuck once snuck a
dead bat into her rain boots

at school...

She dissected it
for extra credit.

At Halloween the kids'd bet
each other how many seconds

they could stand on
creepy Mrs. Wheeler's porch.

Jenny won with an
hour and a half.

Nothing could shake her....

That is until last
summer when that maniac

got on the loose.

Just looking at the "Wanted"
poster and you knew the guy

was a classic psycho.

Dirty trench coat.

One crutch, broken
glasses and a wool cap.

Mrs. Potter'd turned off her
kitchen light one night to

find him staring right back
at her through the window.

Henrietta Grimsby from
twelfth grade looked in her

rearview mirror at the
drive-in and saw him sitting

in the back seat.

So when Jenny's parents
insisted she couldn't stay

alone while they flew off
to Aunt Mabel's wedding

in Kapitski...

Jenny had other ideas.

The biology final was only
four weeks away and there

was work to be done on
her elongated grub study.

Jenny looked forward
to a quiet weekend.

Just her and the grubs...

And Duke, of course.

Oh... Didn't I mention
the family dog?

One hundred and eighty
pounds of serious canine.

I mean, the girl
wasn't completely stupid.

She studied for
a little while,

locked the door and
hit the sack early,

with Duke on the
floor beside her.

But then there was
a banging noise.

Then a series of dull thuds.

Jenny's heart beat
hard in her chest,

her breathing shallow and
quick as she stared blindly

round her pitch black room.

Jenny pulled her foot out
from under the covers and

was searching for her slippers
on the floor below...

When she felt the gentlest
of licking on the tips of

her toes.

Duke was
sleeping under the bed.

He'd be barking his head off
if there was some maniac in

the house right?

So Jenny just
said, "Good dog."

Rolled over and
went back to sleep.

Minutes later she was
sitting straight up in bed,

terrified.

This time the noise was
more like a scraping.

And a grunting.

And a kind of slobbering
coming from deep in the

belly of the house.

Again her foot
searched for the slippers.

And again a reassuring lick
or two convinced Jenny that

all was well.

The third time Jenny
woke up she was nearly

paralyzed with fear.

The sound was a cry.

A long, mournful, wailing.

Like something
from the dead.

Like a mad man.

Jenny tried to calm down.

It was probably the wind.

Or maybe she'd
left the TV on.

She knew she had
to go downstairs.

But it was all she could do
to pull her feet out from

under the covers and swing
them off the side of the bed.

Again there was a
gentle licking.

Duke was still there.

So Jenny made her way to the
door and down the stairs and

into the deserted kitchen.

Moonlight streamed through
the window throwing shadows

across the tile and
up the walls and

over the cellar door.

Uh, the cellar door.

Whatever was making that
horrible noise was there,

down in the basement.

So Jenny swallowed hard.

Reached for the doorknob.

Pulled the door open and
tried not to shudder as she

flicked on the
one little bulb.

There was Duke all
sad and howling,

tail between his legs,
empty packets of hamburger

scattered around and an
ashamed kind of look

on his face.

That's what all
that noise had been.

The slobbering and
scraping and howling.

The dog had been locked
in the basement and -

then it hit her.

How could the dog be
locked in the basement?

He'd been licking her
feet the whole night.

Then Jenny looked out the
window and there he was,

running away from the
house dirty trench coat,

broken glasses, one
crutch and a wool cap.

He looked back over his
shoulder and shouted to

Jenny "I can lick too".

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

[screams]

Oh Jenny was all right.

She screamed and fainted
and woke up with the dog

really licking her feet this
time...and she realized

dogs do lick different
than humans.

They slobber less.

Come in, Maurice.

Just like I promised...

the Abominable Snowman.

That's nothing
but a teddy bear!

No, no...it's the monster,
only he's far away so,

you know, he looks small.

You said it'd
look like Sasquatch.

Back to you, Larry.

Do You think Maurice
could be scamming us?

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine.

'Kay, so Megan's not
exactly a friend...

I'm kind of
more popular and,

I hate to sound
conceited, prettier.

Anyway, this story doesn't
even start with Megan,

it starts with Bradley,
a boy who happened to be

Megan's boyfriend.

You see, Bradley's family
had this real pain of a

mutt, called Nutmeg.

Well, one morning, Bradley's
mom noticed that Nutmeg

wasn't up to her
usual, destructive self.

She just kind of stayed
curled up near the door and

wasn't interested in
anything but sleeping.

So she bundled the mutt up
and took her to the vet.

Oh, the vet could see
that something wasn't right,

but he couldn't tell
for sure without

taking some tests.

You know, he took some blood
and asked Bradely's mom to

bring in a sample of
Nutmeg's poop for testing.

Well, after dinner, Nutmeg
went out for her usual run

in the park.

She asked Bradley to drop
the "sample" off at the

vet's on his way home
from school the next day.

But Bradley made all kinds
of excuses so he wouldn't

have to carry
around that stuff.

He claimed he had
soccer practice.

His mom said that's
okay, the vet's open late.

Then he said he's got to go
to Dave's house to dissect a

frog for science class.

Yeah, right, like Bradley
knew one end of a frog

from another.

The poor dog was real sick
and taking the sample to the

vet was the least
Bradley could do.

Okay, so Bradley's mom,
being considerate and all,

wrapped the sample in a
box so nobody would know

what it was.

Bradley could leave the box
in his locker and drop it

off at the vet on his way
to studying or whatever.

When Bradley got to school,
he was glad to see that Dave

- that's the kid who shared
his locker - had the locker

door open and ready for
Bradley to slip his backpack

in without too much fuss.

But the backpack was
bulging on account of

the box of poop.

So Bradley took the box out,
shoved the backpack in and

put the box on
the top shelf.

Then, Bradley headed
off to his homeroom.

And who did he bump into?

His girlfriend, Megan.

She was all excited because
it was their three month

anniversary.

Well, Bradley
wasn't totally stupid.

He said that he did
have something for Megan,

but he wanted to give
it to her after school.

Bradley figured
how, at lunchtime,

he could get to the mall,
buy a present and get back

without missing a class.

But when Megan went to
Bradley's locker to find him

so she'd know where and
when to meet after school,

Dave was there,
but no Bradley.

And Megan spotted the box.

Cool, she figured, Bradley
really did get her something

for their anniversary.

And at lunch, she bragged
to me that Bradley

got her a present.

But Bradley was so...

Bradley I simply wouldn't
believe he got Megan a

present unless I could
see it with my own eyes.

I suggested Megan should
go and open the locker -

after all, girlfriends and
boyfriends know each other's

locker combinations.

Megan felt like it wasn't
the right thing to do.

But then, along
came Susan and Jodi,

who happen to be my friends
and we kind of ganged up

on Megan.

Who still wouldn't give in.

Now, Susan once was
Dave's girlfriend.

That was before his
dermological misfortunes.

So she still knew the
combination to the locker.

And to our
surprise, there it was.

A box.

But what could be in it?

Well, Jodi hovered
close over the box

while Susan opened it.

The screams that exploded
through the high school

halls that day
rattled the trophy case.

[screaming]

Susan flung the box against
the locker with such force,

the you-know-what
splatted all over the place.

Mostly all over
Susan and Jodi.

Oh yeah, this
is a true story.

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

and Nutmeg is just fine...

even after she ate
Bradley's science project.

Turns out the dog
loves frog's legs.

Come in, Maurice.

Uh, um.

Hey!
Come on, more snow!

We're out of snow.

Maurice!

Where are you?!

Um, I can't hear you.

Kchchchchchc - chchchc...

Breaking up.
Chhhhh...

Found some snow.

What can I say?

Uh. Here's another
Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Freddie.

That's what
Frederica called herself.

She was a regular
ten- year old kid,

like me.

But Freddie had to put up
with an annoying thirteen

year old
brother named Teddy.

Freddie and Teddy...

was that supposed to
be cute or something?

Anyway, Teddy's life was all
about his electronic video

games, his silly ant
farm, his scary heavy metal

posters and the stupid comic
books he hid under his bed.

Even with all these hobbies,
Teddy still had free time to

bug his little sister.

Like when Freddie would
ask to play with Teddy's

electronic
games, Teddy'd say,

"You're not old enough for
Mega Monster Marauders."

When she'd ask to see
his precious ant farm,

he'd say, "No way!

If my ants see
your dopey face,

it'll scare them
half to death."

And when Freddie
skinned her knee.

And her mom made her
chocolate pudding to take

her mind off the hurt.

Guess who sneaked in and ate
the pudding before she could

get to it?

Yeah, right.

Luckily Freddie's favorite
stuff wasn't pudding.

It was maple syrup.

Freddie loved maple syrup...

really loved it.

It was her favorite
food in the whole world.

That's why Freddie loved to
go to the Pancake Castle.

Freddie's mom loved
the Belgian waffles.

Her dad loved the buttermilk
pancakes and her goony

brother loved to dunk
Freddie's hair in the melted

butter when Mom and
Dad weren't looking.

Now, Freddie'd always take
home a bunch of those little

maple syrup packets
from the restaurant.

She collected 'em.
that was her hobby.

By the time she was ten, she
had more than two thousand

of those maple syrup
packet-things stuffed in the

back of her closet.

Two thousand ...amazing.

Anyhow, one day Teddy
decided he needed to have

some fun...y'know, see how
mad he could make Freddie.

So while Freddie was
playing jump rope with me,

Teddy got to her
maple syrup collection,

and began to poke tiny
little holes in the packets

so the maple syrup could
drip out into a bucket.

Poke-poke-poke.

Dee-rip-drip-drip.

But one bucket wasn't enough
to hold all the syrup that

he was pouring.

So Teddy emptied the bucket
into the bathtub and filled

another bucket.

And another one.

Then another.

And later, when Freddie went
home for her daily snack of

pop-up waffles
and maple syrup.

She sat down at the table
and slid two frozen waffles

into the toaster.

But when she peeled off
the top of the maple syrup

packet...

nothing came out.

She tried another packet.

Empty.

They were all empty!

Empty! Empty! Empty!

"No maple syrup.
Grrrrrrr..."

It was payback time.

Freddie got herself ready
with a couple of boxes of

frozen waffles.

The trap was ready.

And she set the bait...

which, in this case,
was her very own self.

She went to Teddy's door,
pulled it open and unplugged

his joy stick just as he
was about to break his own

world-record of killing
eighteen thousand of those

mega monster
marauder things.

"You're not gonna live till
dinner," Teddy howled.

And he took off after her
tearing down the hall.

She led him on a wild
chase through the house,

then ambushed him at
the bathroom door.

Freddie flung her
frozen waffles.

Bonk, a direct hit.

Ooof!

Then another hit.

Teddy took one frozen
waffle hit after another.

The attack continued.

He backed his way into
the safety of the bathroom.

Back...back...back...until.

Until he tripped and fell
right into the bath tub.

Into Freddie's maple syrup!

Spu-lash!

He dragged himself up
- out of the slimy,

gooey glop.

"I'll get you for
this," he sputtered,

as the sticky maple
syrup oozed down his body.

And that's when Freddie
released Teddy's precious

ant collection.

Thousands of
them, the whole farm,

flooded under
the bathroom door.

And we all know how
ants LOVE maple syrup.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine,

Freddie.

Now her big brother,
Teddy leaves her alone.

He's learned his lesson.

And he doesn't want to
end up covered with orange

marmalade, which is what
Freddie now collects...

Dear Larry, my baby loves
the sound of your voice.

Can you read him
a bedtime story?

Well I just happen
to have one here.

Oh goody!
I could use a nap.

Okay, where's
our story book.

Okay.

Once upon a time Jeremy
thought he should find

himself a wife.

Problem was, Jeremy
was a dung beetle.

Jeremy stank!

He met a fly, who
said "My oh my,

you stink so bad
it makes me cry."

He met a snail,
who went all pale,

'cause that snail
could not inhale.

He met a tick,
who got sick quick,

and chased him
with a 10-foot stick.

Poor dung beetle
can't find a wife.

It's tearing my guts out.

How do you expect
me to fall asleep?

Calm down.

Here comes the good part.

How he met
Alice no one knows,

She's a butterfly to
whom he did propose.

Alice thought Jeremy
smelled like a rose,

'cause Alice had mucho
boogers stuffed up her nose.

Feel better now?

[snoring]

I am good.

Later.

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