All language subtitles for Freaky Stories - 2x09 - Apologies to Steinbeck The Creeping Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb A Fishy Story Dumped in the Outback_Legendas01.ENG

¶¶¶

So here we are again,
with more Freaky Stories...

[HIC]

Oh, man...
now what?

[HIC]

Sorry I just have the [HIC]

Hiccups?

[HIC]

Well, you gotta get rid of 'em,
that's all there is to it.

Yeah [HIC]

I guess I'll
introduce [HIC]

uh, the first [HIC]
story...

Um, it's a-[HIC]
it's a-[HIC]

Yeah?
-Aaaaaaaa!!!

Oh!

I'll never get used
to Maurice's face.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Little Mary-Anne McGuire was
the new girl at the school.

Her mother moved around
a lot looking for work,

so Smalltown High was
Mary-Anne's fourth school

in three years.

She arrived late on her
first day of classes.

Mrs. McCarthy, her
homeroom teacher,

warned her about tardiness.

She'd let it go this time,
but "repeat offenders have

to go to the office
and visit Mr. Fowler!"

The other kids
froze in their seats.

Then she heard frightened

whispers..."Oh, no, Mr.
Fowler!?"...not Mr. Fowler!".

Mary-Anne got the feeling
that something was

...wrong at Smalltown High.

At lunch time the next
day, one of the girls

accidentally
bumped Mary-Anne,

spilling her tray.

Mrs. Hardiman,
the cafeteria lady,

told her that accidents
do happen - but if it ever

happened again, she'd have to
"have a chat with Mr. Fowler."

Suddenly the
cafeteria was so quiet,

you could hear a pin drop.

Then the whispering began.

"Fowler. Fowler!
She'll have to go see FOWLER!"

On the third day, in Mr.
Brett's chemistry class,

he called upon her to
answer a simple question.

When she didn't know the
correct number of valence

shells in a plutonium atom,
he looked at her sternly.

"Students who fall behind
in their studies must have a

consultation
with Mr. Fowler!"

The room fell silent.

Jeannie Rasmussen
broke into tears.

Phil Bunches at the next
table dropped his test tube.

Then that
whispering started.

Mary-Anne couldn't
stand it any more.

She just couldn't believe
everyone was so frightened

of one dumb principal.

She gathered her books.

"Just where do you
think you're going?"

asked Mr. Brett.

"To see Mr.
Fowler," said Mary-Anne.

Mr. Brett's eyes went
wide, his mouth fell open.

Mary-Anne made her way
down the creaky staircase

to the main floor.

"Can I help you dear?"

asked Mrs.
Hubbard, the secretary.

"I've come to
see Mr. Fowler,

said Mary-Anne.

"And why would you
need to see him?"

questioned Mrs. Hubbard.

"I've been bad,"
said Mary-Anne,

thinking
quickly, "really bad."

Mrs. Hubbard's face went white
as a preacher's collar.

"No. Not today. He's
extremely busy. Now scoot!"

That's when Mary-Anne heard
the roar from behind the

frosted-glass door.

"Bring me the next student!"

No wonder all the
kids were so terrified.

"Go! Get out while
you still can!"

urged Mrs. Hubbard.

After school that day, she
waited in the rain for her

mother to pick her up.

She looked back
at the school.

There was only one light on...

in the principal's office.

And through the sound of the
rain she could make out

his roaring laughter.

"Wait a sec Mom.

There's something I forgot."

Inside, were the teachers.

All of them.

Having a
party...and laughing.

Until Mr. Brett saw her.

He rushed over to
pull down the blinds,

but it was too late.

Mary-Anne had
seen the truth.

Mr. Fowler had
looked right at her.

As evil and
scary as could be.

But he wasn't scary at all!

Because Mr. Fowler
was actually a dummy,

a puppet built by the
teachers...meant to keep the

kids scared and
well behaved.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

And Mary-Anne's made
a lot of friends at

Smalltown High.

And she's definitely
not afraid to visit the

principal's office anymore.

[HIC]

You gotta hold your breath.

How long?

'Til the hiccups go away.

'Til the [HIC]cups go away?

[mocking] Yeah, til
the [HIC] cups go away.

Okay.

[INHALE]

Good. Now, you're gonna
love our next story.

It's a real hoot.

Ah, ah, ah!

Hold it... hold it... good.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Reggie...but all his amigos
in the hood called him

'the birdman'.

Now there were two things that
Reggie was totally into.

Birds, of course.

And the passing
of the pigskin.

Comprendé?

I'm talkin' about that
bone-crushin' battle of the

big boys...football!

Not to dis the guy, but
Reggie was one strange

dude all right.

The bird thing took a
little getting used to,

but man, he just seemed to
fly out there on the field.

The day soon came when
Reggie had to quit hangin'

around the hood and
acting like a bird brain.

You see, Reggie got a
football scholarship to

Hackford University, the
most straight up learning

locale in the country.

But even at that
humongous campus,

it didn't take Reggie
long to find a few

feathered friends.

Then he met the wolves
- the Hackford Wolves

football team, that is.

And man, they were
some serious bad hombrés.

But it took a lot to ruffle
The Birdman's feathers.

Still, the team had no
intention of rolling out the

red carpet for
any weird new dude,

especially one who thinks
he's some kind of a bird.

First, there was the
oil slick soap trick,

then the itching powder
in the jock strap...

all topped off with a
locker full of live rats.

At practice, Reggie
was far from

soaring with the eagles.

Reggie tried to explain
the problem to the coach,

but the man told him "get with
the program or get out".

That's when he
heard big Bubba

tellin' the rest of the team
they wouldn't have to worry

about playin' with
that "chicken-necked,

bird brain at
season opener."

Ya see, Bubba'd convinced
the coach to keep the

birdman benched because
he wasn't a "team player",

or some such doo-doo, man.

Needless to say, The
Birdman was bummed.

But then an idea hit him
like a clothes line tackle.

Next morning,
Reggie got up early,

way before the team
arrived to practice,

and went to the field.

He wore a black and
white striped shirt,

lugged a big sack, and
started blowing on a

silver whistle.

Um...yeah...

So anyway, he does this
little ritual every morning

for two weeks.

Until it was time for the
big season opening game

for the Hackford Wolves.

Seemed like the whole state
turned out for the game,

and Bubba and the rest of
the Wolves were lapping it

up like puppy dogs.

Then the referee
blew the whistle.

And that's when the
bean burrito hit the fan.

The birds came
from far and wide,

hundreds, thousands of them.

And with the birds
came their white,

gooey by-product...by the
bucketful...free of charge.

And from that day forward,
Bubba and the boys were the

biggest joke of
the entire state.

And Reggie finally
made his big decision.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, and Reggie's
doin' just great.

After writing an
award-winning thesis on bird

behaviour, Reggie became
one of the most sought after

bird wranglers in Hollywood!

Ahh, that was a
good one, huh!?

Now, our next
story is a pip.

It's what put the
Freaky in Freaky Stories.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Joey, a high school
basketball star wannabe.

Not that Joey wasn't a
righteous ball player,

just not the
best, not yet anyway.

But he had plans.

And one of them was to score
a scholarship to a big-name

college and then
go on to the pros,

where he'd become
rich and famous.

Yup, Joey was ambitious.

He tried to do
everything right.

He even went out
with the right girl.

Mindy, the head cheerleader.

And get this, her
folks were loaded.

I'd say Joey'd landed
in a bucket o' cream.

[LAUGH]

Okay, so Joey's birthday
was coming up and Mindy

wanted it to be
something special.

She was gonna throw
a surprise party.

And what a surprise...

She loaded up on
party supplies,

you know, all the stuff.

Plus, the biggest,
deluxe cake she could find.

What about a gift?

Well, Joey was such a
lucky guy she thought,

hey!, a lottery ticket!

Joey...was...surprised.

Mindy'd invited
the basketball team,

the coaches,
the cheerleaders,

all the right inside people.

They all sung.

Phew, and some
people could not sing.

I'm telling ya,
it was terrible!

And, as always, there were
pretty girls fawning at him,

as they do in the
presence of greatness,

according to Joey.

He was soakin' up
all the attention.

A man in his element.

So, Mindy figures it's about
time for the big present.

She moved in next to
Joey and handed over

the lottery ticket.

Now, Joey, of course, was
expecting something a little

more...extravagant, maybe.

I mean, a lottery ticket,
what's that set ya back?

Coupla bucks?

So he just said,
"Uh, gee thanks Mindy",

tossed the
ticket on the table,

and then went back to
flirting with the cute

blonde that he'd
been moving in on.

Mindy didn't
seem phased at all.

She picked up that
ticket and then,

being the perfect
hostess that she was,

wandered around chatting
with all the guests.

Being that the party
was in full swing,

no one was too interested in
some nothin' lottery show.

That is...until the first
three numbers matched the

numbers on Joey's ticket.

Then the next
numbers were drawn

and they all matched!!

The last number was
all that was left.

Finally, Joey dragged
himself away from the blonde

and noticed what what
was going on on the TV.

The crowd watched the
final ball tumble out of the

machine, down the endless
tubes and into the little

tray at the bottom.

"And the final number
is...twenty seven!"

Joey snatched the
ticket from Mindy and

checked the numbers.

"Oooo! I just won twenty
three million dollars!

I just won twenty three
million dollars!!

[LAUGHS]

Thanks babe,"
he said to Mindy,

"But ya know?

I don't need you or
your money anymore.

I got my own."

Yup, he was rich,
filthy, stinking rich.

And as for all the two-bit
basketball players that

liked to hang
around him, well,

he didn't need them either.

"I don't even need to break a
sweat for the rest of my life.

Heh, heh."

Everyone looked
stunned, except Mindy,

who just smiled.

Joey grabbed the
blonde and said,

"I'm gonna claim my winnings
and buy a new Porsche!"

Mindy didn't
show any reaction,

which was weird, but what
she did next said it all.

She walked over to the VCR
and popped out the tape.

She stepped away from the
TV screen.

It was the same host

but he'd drawn a different
final number in the lottery.

"You just watched a taped
version of last week's draw.

Your ticket is for
tonight," said Mindy.

[SCREAMS]

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Joey.
And Mindy?

Well, [CHUCKLE] I'm dating
her now, and believe me,

I don't look at
any other girls.

What? Where?

Oh! Yikes! I forgot!

Maurice, Maurice breathe!

Come on!
Let it out!

Ugh!

Argh! Your
breath...[SNIFF]

it's like -- swamp gas.

Ohh.....oh.

My breath isn't
that bad, is it?

What do you think?

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Osgood Toadworthy.

Now, when I was a lad, shortly
after the earth cooled,

Osgood was an old, OLD man,

who pretty much owned
the entire town.

He owned our only factory,
our only bank...our only

everything...even
the undertaker's.

Dead or alive, Osgood
Toadworthy was gonna extract

every last dollar
from your wallet,

you betcha.

Not surprisingly then,
Osgood was about as popular

as a belching contest at
a Sweet Sixteen party.

People only put up with
Osgood because A) he paid

their salary, and B)...

well, actually,
there was no "B".

Osgood was just a boil
on the butt of humanity.

The only good thing you
could say about him was that

one day, he'd be gone.

Or so you might think.

Actually, Osgood had a plan.

You see, Osgood
had so much money,

he knew he'd never live
long enough to spend it all.

And the mere thought of
someone else spending

it...even after
he was dead...

made Osgood break
out in a cold sweat.

Oh, and those were the
days before deodorant,

my friend.

At any rate,
Osgood had this plan.

You see, there were only
two ways to make sure no one

else got his money.

One was to spend
it all right away.

The other was
to live forever.

Impossible, right?

Not if you had the kind
of wealth that Osgood had.

Osgood put ads in every
newspaper in the country.

He promised great jobs for
doctors and scientists

if they'd come to work for him.

He offered to pay well...

well, otherwise how would
he get top notch scientists?

What he didn't mention was
that they had to work in his

creepy
fortress-like mansion.

And no one was allowed
to leave until they'd

discovered a way to
make Osgood immortal!

Working for Osgood in his
mansion was like working for

Atilla the Hun in
Frankenstein's lab.

But okay, let's make
a long story short.

It took years and Osgood
was almost on death's door

but they finally
came up with it.

An immortality formula
that was guaranteed to work!

Oh yes, Osgood
got his formula...

terrific...whoop-dee-doo.

But there was a catch.

There's always a catch.

You see, the scientists only
worked out the formula

in theory.

The rare elements they
would need to actually

make the concoction...

Well, that would completely
obliterate Osgood's fortune.

His mansion, all the
property he owned,

even his whalebone
girdle...all of it would

have to go to pay for
one dose of the formula.

But immortality...I
mean, come on!

This was Osgood's dream!

And besides, he had the
whole rest of time to

rebuild his fortune!

You'd take the deal, right?

Well Osgood did.

He sold everything he owned
right down to his underwear

to get those rare elements.

So the scientists, some of
whom were seeing daylight

for the first time in a decade,

mixed up the elixir.

Osgood drank it
and, well...

[BELCH]

burped.

You were expecting him
to turn into a vampire

or something?
No.

He could still see his
reflection in a mirror,

only now he was immortal!

So what if he was as broke
as the guy who invented

cheese-flavoured gum.

He'd finally
achieved his dream!

Little did Osgood know what
he'd gotten himself into.

Mind you, today,
ninety-two years later,

Osgood Toadworthy is still
broke and he doesn't

look in too many mirrors.

Why?
Well, you be the judge.

You see, the formula made
him immortal all right.

But Osgood never
specified that he wanted

to stop aging!

He's a hundred and
seventy-two now,

and he'll just
keep getting...

and looking...older
and older until he

literally falls apart.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine,

Osgood Toadworthy.

Who, surprisingly, has
become the most popular

person in our
town's old folks home.

Not because of his
personality or anything.

Oh no.

But because, by comparison,
he makes the rest of us

feel so young.

Check this out.

Joey, in Sudbury,
Ontario, writes;

'Dear Larry, how come you
never have country music

on your show?
Do you hate country music?'

Ugh, Joey!
Are you kidding me?

Maurice!

¶ He bathes in slime
He wallows in grease. ¶

¶ He's our favorite maggot. ¶

¶ Uh-huh uh-huh
it's me, Maurice! ¶

¶ I'll burp, I'll belch,
I'll drool, I'll fart ¶

¶ to see me barf
is state-of-the-art. ¶

¶ Yeee-Haa! ¶

¶ He bathes in slime
he wallows in grease. ¶

¶ He's our favorite maggot. ¶

¶ Uh-huh uh-huh
it's me, Maurice! ¶

¶ M - A - U - R -
eese, Maurice! ¶

That's slime!
Thank you Moosejaw!

Thank you!
Thank you, you're too kind!

Don't forget your bow!

Bow.

You deserve a bow.

Wow.
-Bow.

I love you people.
Let me kiss you.

¶¶¶