All language subtitles for Freaky Stories - 2x08 - The Need for Speed Zit’s a Horrible Life The Girl with the Hoary Cough The Smell of Fear_Legendas01.ENG

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Are we on the air?

But...but,
Larry's not here yet.

Uh..uh...welcome
to Freaky Stories.

Tonight...

Hello.

How are you?

Who are you?

He's my hand...

I'm not talkin' to you.
I'm talkin' to him.

Can he really be that dumb.

But then...
Hey Maurice.

You know, this guy
could be your replacement.

Huh!

Let's have a story, 'kay?

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Norbert, the guy in
the school cafeteria

nobody would sit next to.

I, mean, for one thing,
Norbert ate with his mouth

open, which meant he sprayed
you with lunch whenever he

laughed at one of
his own stupid jokes.

But even worse, Norbert
always wanted to trade

lunches with you.

What's wrong with that?

Well, Norbert's lunch was
always weird stuff like

okra sprouts or tofu burgers.

So because of
his gross food,

and even grosser
eating habits,

Norbert sat alone at
table 13 every single day.

Until the time Julie
sat down beside him.

Now, Julie was new, so
she didn't know better.

I mean she just saw an
empty table and sat down.

You see, Julie was a science
geek and as you know,

science geeks have no
concept of social

do's and don'ts.

And Norbert was the
biggest don't around.

Still Julie was
incredibly smart,

so everybody knew
she'd catch on.

Imagine our horror, when
Norbert showed her a plateful

of ostrich stroganoff

and Julie traded him
her dessert for it!.

Yummy Maggo Bars -
some sort of candy

that Julie made at home.

Everybody was so
surprised at what happened,

nobody noticed Julie
wasn't actually eating

Norbert's lunch.

She took her own lunch out
of her backpack and quietly

ate that instead.

The next day, it
happened again.

Norbert had mentioned
that he really liked Julie's

candy bars and Julie showed
up with a whole bunch

more to trade.

She happily accepted his
chicken fondue in exchange

for them ...but again
she ate her own lunch.

Everybody figured Julie
had the hots for ol' Norb,

and she was making
the way to his heart,

through his stomach.

But check this out: One day
Julie didn't arrive on time.

Now, a growing
boy needs his food,

and Norbert was so hungry,
he actually ate the lunch

that his mother
had packed for him.

So when Julie
finally showed up,

he had nothing to trade!

And Julie's dessert
was Norbert's favorite.

So out of desperation,
Norbert offered to trade his

empty carton of goat's milk
and his slimy used paper

plate for it.

And can you believe it?

She agreed!

A grotty old paper
plate and a milk carton,

crawling with
Norbert's germs!

I mean, when
Cupid's arrow hit her,

did it go right
through her brain?

Well , Norbert was a few
clowns short of a circus,

but even he knew a good
thing when he saw it.

So, every day he ate
his real lunch at recess,

and then traded whatever
junk he could find for

Julie's lunch.

And I'm talking real crud
here: Norbert gave her old

banana peels,
used paper napkins,

even the janitor's
floor sweepings from the

cafeteria.

And Julie would
take this stuff,

smile and giggle, and
give Norbert more of those

amazing Maggo Bars.

Love sure is strange.

Now you'd think that out of
appreciation Norbert would

take some time out
to talk to Julie,

or at least thank her.

But Norbert was so busy
stuffing his face that he

barely said two
words to her.

And even then he
spritzed her with his food.

But Julie
didn't seem to mind.

She would just
smile and giggle,

and keep working on her
secret project for the

school science fair.

All she would say when
Norbert asked about it was,

"You'll see...
you'll see...".

And when the day of
the science fair came,

boy did he see.

It was held right
after lunch period,

in the cafeteria.

The janitor was trying to
clean things up before the

fair started, and Norbert
just wouldn't move from his

table until he finished
eating his Maggo Bars.

That is, until he saw
her science project.

"Thanks for being my
guinea pig, she grinned.

And as she raised the
curtain on her invention,

Norbert nearly choked
on his Maggo Bar...

because he saw that Julie's
machine recycled the maggots

- from his garbage -
into CANDY BARS!!!

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Norbert.

Norbert and Julie
eventually got married.

Only now, Norbert
does all the cooking.

Oh, man...
I loved this job.

And now they're gonna
replace me...boo hoo.

heh-heh-heh...

This is a true story.

Happened to a friend
of a friend of mine

in the next cell,
Slippery Sam.

Sam had been robbin' banks
for 20 years and never

got caught.

Other thieves were in awe of
his track record and asked,

"Sam, what's yer secret?"

Sam would smugly reply,
"I'm smarter than the law,

see, I ain't never
ever goin' to jail."

But like they say.

"Never ever say never."

You see, Sam made
three mistakes.

His first mistake was
getting too confident.

All by his lonesome he
decided to take on the

largest bank in the city.

This was a bank with
all the latest high-tech

surveillance equipment.

Every bell and
whistle you can think of.

Sam had a friend who worked
for the bank and made a deal

with him to split the
loot if he cut the

surveillance wires.

Mistake number two --
never trust no one,

especially a guy
they call "chicken".

Yeah, that's right.

Instead of
cutting the wires,

Chicken high
tailed it out of town.

So Sam walked into the bank
and made like he had a gun

and said, "Your money
or your lives, see."

Everyone was in a
state of panic.

Two bank tellers started
to hand over the money

in the vault.

But one of the
tellers said to Sam,

"You are not going to
get away with this."

Sam laughed.

"Oh yeah," he said.

"like who's
gonna stop me, see?"

the teller said,
"Our cameras will,

and pointed to the
surveillance camera.

Sam said, "Your
cameras are no good.

They're dead.
See...dead. Yeah."

Sam even danced in
front of the cameras,

which as we know now,
were very much alive.

So there was Sam
for all to see.

Which the cops did.

They found him easy enough,
which is REAL easy

when you brag.

The officers
cuffed him and said,

"This is the end
of Slippery Sam".

Sam was shocked.

Court day came and
wouldn't ya know,

Sam had the toughest
judge in the county,

Hanging Harry Heartless.

The judge slammed
his gavel and said,

"This will be the
end of Slippery Sam.

I'll never see your
face in my court again!"

He sentenced Sam to
20 years in prison.

But even that did
not discourage Sam.

He was not about to waste
away in a jail cell for the

next 20 years.

You see, Slippery
Sam had a plan.

Every night when the lights
went out in the jail and the

guards and the
prisoners were sleeping,

Sam used pilfered kitchen
utensils to slowly but

surely dig himself a tunnel.

During the day he
was a model prisoner.

The guards loved him.

The other prisoners played
checkers with him and he

never even cheated.

But the cook in the
cafeteria found it very

strange that
before every meal,

he asked for
additional spoons,

knives and forks.

But Sam claimed, "They
don't call me Slippery

for nothin' see."

He said his silverware
slipped out of his hand.

Still the stone in his
prison cell was so thick and

hard it took years and
years to make a dent in it.

But Slippery was
not about to give up.

He dug spoonful by spoonful,
forkful by forkful.

And even though it ain't
easy to eat your peas with

your knife, Sam picked out
pebbles and dirt with his.

Day after day,
week after week,

month after month.

Oh yeah, and year
after year after year,

nineteen years and
eleven months to be exact.

So with a month to
go on his sentence,

why would Sam keep digging?

Mistake number three --
never try to prove you're

smarter than the law.

But his pride was stronger
than his common sense.

With his broken-down spoon,
he wedged loose the last

stone keeping him
from his freedom.

The stone came loose and he
struggled to push it aside.

He saw a beam of
light comin' through.

He knew this was his
ticket to freedom.

He said to himself,
"Slippery Sam..you have not

lost your touch. Yeah. Yeah".

He could not believe his eyes.

Standing before him were
four police officers and

Judge Hanging
Harry Heartless,

the judge who put him away.

That's right, he had dug
himself into the judge's

courtroom.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

in the next
cell, Slippery Sam,

who has just
taken up knitting.

I wonder how long it'll
take him to knit a rope long

enough to get
out of this joint.

Good evening
Ladies and gentlemen.

Here's our next
Freaky Story...

Ha.

This is a true story.

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

We called him 'Furd'.

Yeah, quite the moniker.

You see, his
real name was Fred,

but for some reason,
everyone called him Furd.

Anyway, Furd was my
boss, manager of aircraft

maintenance over at the
International Airport

where I worked.

Now we didn't handle the
engines or avionics stuff

aboard the big jets.
No.

Our company did the
service maintenance,

cleaned out the toilets,
dumped the waste -

that sort of thing.

Now, Furd's angle was that
he was always trying to cut

expenses and pocket
the savings for himself.

And I have to admit,
he was 'aces' at it.

He'd built himself
a veritable palace,

out by the airport.

Y'see, what Furd
did, was cut corners.

Fer-instance, when we went
to refill the liquid soap,

Furd told us to fill
'er up only half-way.

but then he'd turn around
and bill the airline for a

full container - and pocket
the half-bottle of soap

savings for himself.

Now, the cost of
one bottle of soap may not

sound like much to
you, but multiply that,

by a hundred and fifty
airplane toilets a day,

three hundred and
sixty-five days-a-year,

and it starts to add up.

He He.
Ya get the picture?

Or when we'd dump out an
airplane's waste-tank,

Furd told us to
pump out only half.

He figured he'd let the poor
sucker at the other airport

take care of the rest
for the return trip.

Pretty cool thinking, but
Furd wasn't making too many

friends at the
other airports.

So anyhow, one day Furd
hears that there's a new

VP of Operations, been hired for
one of his airline clients.

Now Furd figures that the
best way to grease this

guy's wheel is to
throw him a fancy party.

Sort-of a 'welcome'.
Yeah, sort-a.

And Furd, being Furd,
he does it on the cheap.

First of all, instead
of getting it catered,

he snagged a load
of airline food.

Not the kind of food
that you or I would eat,

if we were to take
a trip somewhere.

But the good stuff - from
the First-Class compartment.

And instead of hiring
waiters and waitresses,

he shanghaied a flight
crew of stewardesses.

Seems he made some kinda
threat about not filling the

drinking-water tanks before
a Trans-Pacific flight.

Whatever it was,
it sure worked.

He had the whole
crew in his backyard,

serving hors d'oeuvres.

So the big day arrives.

Furd and his guests were
milling around his pool.

The airline-food had been
scraped out of its trays and

arranged neatly on platters
in a serve-yourself buffet.

Those airline poobahs
were having a great time.

And I have to admit,
the coolest thing was,

that Furd's house was
located right at the end of

the Airport's runway -
so that every plane as it

landed, swooped right
down low over his house.

So Furd's talking up
that new VP of Operations,

when the VP looks
at an incoming jet.

He says,
"That's one of ours."

"Well, whatdayaknow?"
says Furd. "So it is."

But what Furd and he new VP
of Operations didn't know

was that this particular
Jumbo-Jet was coming in on a

return trip from
Paris, France.

And furthermore, that
the Manager of Aircraft

Maintenance at the airport
in Paris, France,

was none too happy with
Furd's habit of sending

half- full tanks
of waste to him,

and was now playing a
little trick of his own...

You see, the waste tanks of
this Jumbo Jet were full

to the point of bursting.

And wouldn't you know it?

That's what they did.

Bombs away - sixteen hundred
pounds of putrid waste -

right into
Furd's swimming pool.

Just as the new VP of
Operations was demonstrating

his diving technique to a
pretty little stewardess...

Hey.
It's a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, and Furd?

Ah, no. He doesn't work
at the airport anymore.

He's gone into the
fertilizer business.

Oh, he's dead.

Huh!
He's dead?

Ha.
He's dead!

He's dead!
He's dead!

He's dead!
He's...

May I have the
next dance?

Anybody care for a
slightly used sidekick?

Oohhh.

[LAUGHING]

Why are you laughing?
You're next.

Huh?

Here's the next
Freaky Story.

Why, you!

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine.

Ever live in a Frat House?

I don't mean one of those
yuppie ones you see on TV

sometimes, where all the
guys dress in loafers and

call each other Biff.

I mean a real frat house
with vermin infested laundry

heaped next to
stacks of pizza boxes.

Last Years' New Year's
Eve decorations

rotting off the ceiling.

And some excuse for a
house mate affectionately

referred to as the Mooch.

But at Delta Delta Pylon,
we just called him Lester.

Well into his 5th year majoring
in Primitive Basket Arts,

Lester survived by stealing
the last slice of pizza here,

pilfering a couple of
clean socks there

and using whatever shampoo,
shaving cream and deodorant

some other frat brother
was fool enough to leave

unguarded.

We even wondered if he
owned his own toothbrush.

But soon after
Christmas one year,

when Lester had
already thieved,

pinched and scoffed
every shortbread cookie,

mincemeat tart and dried-up
old fruit cake care package

he could find, the cupboards
suddenly went bare.

You see, most of the Deltas
took to sleeping with their

food supplies, which made
midnight snacking a bit of a

trick for Lester.

Even his ability to
belch Einstein's Theory of

Relativity failed to
convince the others he was

worth tossing a
stale donut to.

Lester might've been okay.

He might have
restrained himself.

But then he heard this
sound coming from way down

in the kitchen.

Someone was sifting
through the pots and pans,

rummaging
through the cupboards,

making the electric can
opener moan and wheeze

and grind...he knew instantly.

The drooling of his mouth
and the twitching of his

nose told Lester that Roger
was making his famous tuna,

wiener and
leftovers casserole.

It was never
exactly the same twice,

but always sure
to please...him.

Late that night,
Lester snuck downstairs,

deftly stepping over Bud in
the front hall who hadn't

quite made it up to his bed
after a night of revelry,

and slipped into the
pitch black of the kitchen.

The refrigerator hadn't had
a working light bulb since

Fred the Freshman ate the
last one as a hazing ritual

but this didn't
deter Lester.

No.

He knew the insides of that
treasure chest of pilferable

plunder like the back
of his thieving hand.

He identified the jumbo
mustard in an instant,

shoved it aside to seize the
yogurt container behind and

sat right down on the cold,
hard linoleum to enjoy

his filched feast.

The tuna was a little
mushier than usual,

the weenies a little bit
on the gamey side and there

were the odd crunchy
bits Lester assumed were

over-microwaved
meatball crust.

But delicious none the less.

In moments Lester had
gobbled the last of his

lifted midnight snack and
was back in his bed so fast

the albacore
aftertaste had yet to fade.

Happy.
Content.

If only he had known.

Hours later,
all seemed fine.

Loitering 'round the kitchen
next morning in the hopes of

abandoned breakfast scraps,
Lester's fellow frats went

about their business and
didn't suspect a thing.

Even Roger had rummaged
through the near empty

refrigerator for nearly
five minutes in search of a

banana he put there last
spring and never noticed his

missing tuna a la king.

Lester was sure his crime
would go undetected when

suddenly Irving the pre-med
hauled himself into the

kitchen, stuck his head in
the fridge and started to

scream....Where was
his lab container?

Where were his rat's heads?

Those meal worms had been
cleaning the brains out of

those skulls for days
and they were almost done!

But it was only when Lester
spotted Roger's leftovers

container sticking out of
his knapsack that it really

sunk in what he'd done.

He'd made a
meal of mealworms,

he'd crunched
on rat craniums,

he'd noshed on
rodent nuggets.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Lester still lives at the frat,
of course.

But now he majors in
macrobiotics with a minor

in long term fasting.

The rumor in the
cockroach community...

You have a community?

Yeah, and guess
who the mayor is.

Wise guy.
Ahem.

It is said that you do
an amazing magic trick.

Well, I guess you can't keep
talent like mine a secret.

Oh yeah, well let's see
this big trick of yours.

Okay. Bring it on boys

Check this out, Maurice. Okay.

Abracadabra and oiveyismere,
spirit of magic

make the bag disappear.

Ah..what do you
think about that?

Ah, big deal.

Anybody could do that trick.

Anybody.
Even me.

Oh yeah.
I'd like to see ya try?

Okay.
Get behind the curtain.

Allright, I'll do that.

Okay.
All set.

Abracadabra and...

uh, whatever you said,
spirit of magic make

Larry disappear.

See ya next time.

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