All language subtitles for Freaky Stories - 3x09 - Mystery of the Wax Museum Mouse Trap The Getaway The Lodger_Legendas01.ENG

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I'd like everyone to
give a round of applause

to that Caped Crime
Buster,

that Veiled Vermin, that
Slimy Samaritan...

The Masked Maggot!

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

Tell me, oh Masked Maggot...

Yesss...

Why do you wear that
costume?

What costume?

That costume! That cape,
that cowl, that cloak...

Oh, the maggot suit.

I wear it to strike fear
into the heart of evildoers.

Ooooh, I'm frightened
already.

This is a true story.

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

Oh, Kate thought she was so
clever.

She'd lied, cheated and
swindled her way across

the North African desert to
the Valley of the Kings.

Her card said
"Egyptologist",

but "Tomb Robber" was a more
apt description.

And now by sheer luck, she'd
stumbled on the

resting-place of Memnon the
Evil.

Legends told of his vast
treasure,

guarded by an "army of
gold"...

At the entry of the tomb,
Kate unfolded the ancient

parchment that she'd purchased
with a bag of fool's gold.

By pressing hieroglyphs of
the sun,

moon and the stars, she
triggered a latch.

The door hissed open.

Child's play.

As she passed the threshold,
she saw a treasure trove

beyond anything she'd ever
imagined.

Kate scooped up handfuls of
gold,

jewels and diamonds - filled
bags of them.

She peered into the darkness
of the next room.

Lo and behold, there was
indeed an army of gold -

life size figures of people
from around the world,

from ancient Egyptian
through Phoenician,

Elizabethan - right up to
almost modern day.

She was about to step into
the chamber,

when a mote of dust twinkled
in a tiny shaft of light.

"Ah Ha!"
smiled Kate.

She stepped back and plucked
a bauble from the ground.

Then gently tossed
the jeweled trinket

into the beam of light.

There was a groan - as
if the whole temple

had awakened.

Then floors rumbled, walls
shook.

And the place where she'd
stood moments before

disappeared, leaving a
gaping chasm.

She edged her way around the
perimeter of the hole.

"Is that the best you can
do?"

she whispered to the ghosts
in the tomb.

The golden army was
wondrous.

Hundreds of men and women
from the four corners

of the globe were sculpted
in the tiniest detail.

But Kate didn't marvel for
long.

She knew that even greater
treasure lay in the

burial chamber.

Kate found the secret
lever that opened

a huge rock door.

She drew a sharp breath as
she entered the vast room.

The sarcophagus of the evil
Pharaoh lay at the feet of a

colossal stone figure.

Seated, it was easily 40
feet tall.

In the center of its
forehead was a huge ruby,

the legendary "Third Eye of
Memnon".

Kate opened her pack and set
to work.

Using pitons and ropes she
scaled the colossus.

She gazed into its sightless
eyes,

as with her knife, she
pried the giant ruby

from its forehead.

She was now rich beyond all
imagination and in the

coming weeks she'd see the tomb

emptied of its treasure.

Kate raced across the
floor when suddenly

the room began to shake.

Earthquake!

She looked back.

Something odd.

Had the statue moved?

Then... without warming
- it stood up!

IT WAS ALIVE!

She ran!

Out of the burial chamber,
past the army of gold.

Then the pit!

There was no time
to go around it -

the giant was coming!

So she vaulted it.

The giant was gaining, but
Kate could see the door!

He leapt the pit - she could
tell there was no way he was

going to fit through the
door.

She was going to make it!

The evil giant drew a magic
sword from thin air.

He flung it.

Kate saw it coming...
and dodged it.

The glowing sword tilted,
swiveled in mid-air!

There was no escape.

Through her greed, she'd
been rewarded with the thing

she wanted most.

Gold.

As much as she'd want -
forever.

She'd been changed into a
golden statue.

The evil One examined his
new toy.

Then he carefully positioned
her amongst his golden army.

He refastened the ruby but
as Memnon prepared to sit,

he paused and looked at the
arm of his throne.

"Chalk up another one...",
he thought.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine.

Memnon, the Evil.

"Friend", you ask?

Employer, actually.

I dust his golden army,
every Thursday...

So tell me, Masked Maggot,
what crime fighting tools

do you have?

Well, for starters, I
have...

my utility belt.

Oh, what's that?

It contains secret stuff, like
my maggot aerosol spray.

Maggot aerosol spray?

What does that do?

Well, it makes it smell like
I'm here even when I'm not.

Here, have a sniff.

[SOUNDS OF DISGUST]

What's that?

That is my greatest crime
fighting weapon of all...

the Maggot Mobile.

Oh, this I gotta see...

right after our next Freaky
Story.

This is a true story.

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

Maggie.

Now, she'd had a strange life -

never known any other children.

It's on account of how she
was raised...

You see, her parents were
famous Biologists working on

ways to save the endangered
animals of the rainforest

and the like.

And because of that,
Maggie'd spent her entire

life on expeditions to lush
tropic rainforests or dry

African Savannah.

Not that Maggie was lonely
or lacked for anything.

There were always lots of
people around.

But they were all grown ups,
who never had any time to

play with her.

And that's where Maggie's
Monkey came in.

Truth be told, he wasn't
really a monkey.

He was a gorilla.

A four hundred and
eighty-six pound Bull

gorilla Maggie decided to
name Mister Bigglesworth -

and he was Maggie's best
friend.

Whenever she needed someone
to talk to,

laugh with, or even a kind
shoulder to cry on,

Mister Bigglesworth was
there for Maggie.

He helped her with her
correspondence school

lessons and her gymnastics,
but I fear,

he was no help at all when
it came to ballet.

But alas, all good things
must come to an end,

for one day, when Maggie
received her correspondence

school graduation diploma,
a sad realization dawned

upon them.

She'd done so splendidly
well at school that she'd

won a full scholarship to
the University.

But she'd have to leave
family and friends

to further her education...

As she packed her things and
prepared to leave for the

University, tears
began to well up

in the great ape's eyes.

Maggie tried to comfort him,
saying that she'd write and

send photos - but it just
didn't seem to do the trick.

Mister Bigglesworth was
inconsolable.

Months passed as Maggie
began her studies

at the University.

Finally, Maggie's
parents received her

first report card.

They opened it with great
expectations,

but she wasn't doing nearly
as well as they'd hoped.

It was quite obvious to all
that Maggie was homesick

for Mister Bigglesworth too.

Her troubles compounded
themselves during

the second semester.

She'd fallen so far behind
that it appeared that she

was in grave danger of
flunking out.

And it was with that feeling
of trepidation that she

returned home during
spring-break.

They greeted her at the
airstrip.

Everyone was there; her
parents,

the other biologists and of
course,

Mister Bigglesworth.

They had a marvelous time -
everyone exchanged stories,

bringing each other
up-to-date on goings on at

school and in the field.

But most of all, Maggie was
just happy to be home with

her dear friend, Mister
Bigglesworth,

for it seems he had been in
a deep state of depression.

No amount of bananas could
erase his perpetual frown.

They'd spent a marvelous
two weeks;

hiking, swimming and playing
together as if they'd

never been apart.

But then it was time
for Maggie to return

to University.

Mister Bigglesworth cried as
she packed her bags.

He was so heart-broken,
he was unable even

to see her off.

He must have gone to some
remote corner of the jungle

to cry his ape eyes out.

They waited as long as they
could,

but no one could find the
great ape - and the weather

was closing in, so Maggie
left without saying goodbye.

The weeks passed and
Maggie'd made a dramatic

reversal at school.

The marks on her essays and
written work rebounded

to their former
stellar heights.

So much so, that the school
decided to award her the

prize for Most Improved
Student.

Her parents were thrilled -
and they made the long

journey to the University
for the awards presentation.

But when they got there,
they realized that Maggie

would ask about
Mister Bigglesworth

and how he was doing.

And the problem was -
the monkey was gone -

and they feared the worst.

The great ape was so
distraught at the loss of

Maggie's company that he had
wandered off into the jungle

- possibly never to be seen
again.

So they attended the
ceremony and watched with

great pride as Maggie
accepted her award.

As they walked back to her
dorm room,

her mother asked, "Um,
Aren't you going to ask

about Mister Bigglesworth,
dear?"

"Oh, he's fine",
Maggie said happily

as she opened her door.

For inside sat the great
ape,

happily pounding away at her
typewriter.

"Hey!"
she said.

"Is my book report ready
yet?"

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine.

Maggie - who with the help
of her friend,

Mister Bigglesworth,
"monkey'd around" all the

way to a Doctorate in
English Literature.

Nice car, Maurice...

Oh, That's Masked Maggot.

Don't give away my secret
identity.

Oh, your secret's safe with
me.

[CHUCKLE]

Oh, nice tires.

Yeah, Mag wheels.

Get it, "mag'?
[CHUCKLE]

I get it, I get it...

Oh, Oh, What's that?

Oh, That?
That's a Rocket launcher.

Un, hunh, and that?

Oil slick.

Hmmm, Oooo! Ooh! And
what about THAT one?

What does that thing do?

Would you like to give her a
try?

Oooo, Would I?

This is a true story.

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

Now, ever since he was a
little guy,

Lou'd always heard tales
about what a great sheriff

his Great-Gran'dad "Buffalo"
Bob had been.

Word was, that Buffalo Bob
had been the "rootin'-est

tootin'-est" Sheriff the
town of Dry Gulch had ever

seen - and every one in
Lou's family had tried to

live up to his shinin'
example.

Why, there was the story
about how Buffalo Bob

single-handedly brought
the evil Hodgins' gang

to justice.

Or, the time that he'd
stopped a bank robbery while

giving a talk on traffic
safety to Miss Sugarloaf's

grade school class...

and not missin' a beat.

Oh, there were lots of tales
about the sheriff,

but the most telling is how
ol' Buffalo Bob met his end

- while staring down the
meanest,

most vile evil-doers ever
to darken the doorsteps

of Dry Gulch.

Seems they'd been on a crime
spree and the bad guys were

a-makin' their getaway.

Sheriff Bob was in hot
pursuit when all of a sudden

the bad guys got stuck on
the train tracks.

They were stuck fast - and
the way those bad guys were

wedged in - they couldn't
open the doors to get out.

Well, wouldn't you know it,
but the 5:15 from Capital

City was a-barreling down
the tracks straight at the

bad guys' get-away car.

They were trapped.

There was no escape.

And that's when
Sheriff Buffalo Bob

sprung into action.

He hopped into his police
car and started a-pushin'

the getaway car off the
tracks.

The train was getting'
closer - and closer.

So, Sheriff Bob shifted
'er into low gear

and floored it.

The getaway car popped right
off the tracks.

The bad guys gunned the
engine and took off,

leaving Sheriff Bob in a
cloud of dust.

That's when he
realized that now

HE was stuck on the tracks.

Well, Buffalo Bob always
wanted to be remembered as a

great lawman - and he
certainly got his wish...

So now Lou was tellin' his
pals all about the exploits

of his Great-Gran'dad when
they decided to visit the

sight of the old train
wreck.

It was Friday the
thirteenth,

- the thirty-second
anniversary of Buffalo Bob's

untimely undoing - and the
boys drove "Ol' Betsy",

Lou's rusty old pickup truck
to the level crossing.

They figured they'd wait for
a couple of trains to pass,

and kick around some dust
to look for bank robber's

loot or something.

It was 'round midnight
when the boys decided

to call it a night.

The old rattletrap chugged
forward a couple of feet and

then died - dust in the
carburetor or something,

And wouldn't you know it?
Right on the tracks.

Well, this "weirded" out the
boys real good.

They hopped from the pickup
and started a-pushin',

trying to get her off the
tracks.

But she was stuck tight.

[distant train whistle]

"Wazzat?"
asked Lou.

"Dunno", said Frankie as he
looked at his watch.

Couldn't be a train this
time o'night.

But then he realized the
second hand wasn't moving.

His watch had stopped.

An' that's when they saw the
bright headlight of the

train - off in the distance
- coming straight at them.

"Hurry guys!", screamed Lou.

"We's gotta get Ol' Betsy
offa the tracks!"

Lou jumped into the car and
tried to start the motor.

It turned and turned but
wouldn't catch.

"C'mon Lou!
It's too late.

Leave it!"

But Lou kept turnin' that
key!

Then it was too late.

The guys closed their eyes
as the train roared past.

When it was gone, they
waited for the cloud

of dust to clear.

They opened their eyes and
looked down the track.

Ol' Betsy was sitting on the
other side of the tracks.

"Lou! How'd you get
her started so fast?"

"I didn't", said Lou.

"I thought you guys pushed
me..."

"Uh. No. It wasn't us..."

"Gee. Felt like I was drop
kicked by a mule..."

Lou got out and they
walked around to look

at the back of the truck.

There on the tailgate, were
a pair of handprints.

Like someone with superhuman
strength had been

pushing back there.

Then Lou noticed something
a-lying in the dirt,

glinting in the moonlight...

He bent down to pick it up.

It was a badge from the Dry
Gulch Sheriff's Department.

The same kind that his Granddad
Sheriff "Buffalo" Bob

would have worn that night.

The one that was never
found...

...until now...

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine.

And Lou's still got that old
Badge.

And he wears it with pride -
in his new job as Sheriff

in the Town of Dry
Gulch.

Where he always stays on the
right side of the tracks.

Now, tell me, oh
Masked Maggoty one,

what does, uh, what does
this little button here do?

Which button there?

The little red one, right
there.

Oh the, oh the [CHUCKLE]
that little red one.

I wouldn't touch that one if
I were you.

Oh?
And why NOT?!

[SPRONG!]

Ejector seat.
[LAUGH]

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine

It was a night in December,
In the year of our Lord,

Eighteen Eighty-Eight,

While terror haunted the
streets of our town,

The unwary met a grim fate.

The footsteps of doom,

Rang down cobblestone
streets,

Through snow and through
sleet and through rain,

As lone newsboy shouted to
rare passersby,

"Old Jackie has Stricken
Again!'

Inside of the cozy Lamb and
Scythe Inn,

The cry of the newsboy rang
out.

But on that night, my dears,

The poor guests and the
staff,

Were riddled with worry and
doubt.

A mysterious lodger,
Had moved in - up the stair.

He reeked of evil and fear.

He dressed like no other,

With filth-matted hair.

You were wary, when he drew
near.

Agnes the barmaid, a rare
beauty 'tis told,

Held their attention fast,

As she told how The Stranger
arrived,

At the Inn, a few nights
past.

She told them how he
appeared at the door,

In robes that were filthy
and tattered,

But she had no spare room,

Just a chamber up the
stairs

It was quiet was all
that it mattered.

He dragged a large sack,
To the top of the stair,

Refusing the food and drink
offered.

Then reached into his pouch,
And plucked a gold coin,

Which Agnes put into the
coffers.

The pub-goers listened in
dread silent awe,

As the barmaid spun her dark
tale.

Then, sensing a look of fear
in her eyes,

They spun 'round and saw
Lodger pale.

He emerged from the shadows
- descended the stairs.

Then he stood - clad in red
cloak and hat,

He nodded a silent 'good
evening' to all,

Then left. That seemed to be
that.

Seizing her chance,
Barmaid summoned her daring,

And lead a group up to his
room.

Pushing the old wooden door
aside,

They ventured on into the
gloom.

The room, it was dark
and cluttered with things

With almost no room for a
bed.

And that's where she found
- the in-fernal list,

With all their names written
in red.

The names thus inscribed,

Caught in Agnes' throat

Could he be the "Jackie'
they fear?

For at this dark hour,

With no one about,

The question: Did he lurk
near?

Down cobblestone streets

He stalked through the
night.

Peering through window and
curtain.

Then he would pause,
To add to his list.

Then a "check' - just to
make certain

Later that night he
returned to the Inn.

The jovial room now drawn
quiet.

He stole up the stair

Paused and gave them a wink

That quite nearly started a
riot.

The pub-goers summoned the
Constables near.

The mob charged the stairs
in their wake.

Lanterns, torches and
pitchforks were waved.

And one bore an old wooden
rake.

They'd pound down - that
locked door.

There'd be no escape.

They'd capture the fiend,
sure that night!

It's four stories down to
the cold streets below.

He won't put up - much of
a fight!

The door wouldn't open.
They beat it again.

The hinges, they rattled and
clattered.

But finally under the
pounding onslaught,

The wood crumbled and
splintered and shattered.

Oh! The room, it was empty.

The desk, it was bare.

The window was open,
But He wasn't there.

The mob turned,
They searched,

They scoured the room,

Searching for clues,

The "What', "When',
"Why' and "Whom'.

Then candlelight fell
upon his dread note.

They folded it open,
To read, what he wrote:

A line down the middle
dividing it twice.

Into two portions,
The Naughty and Nice...

Then a shivering breeze,
Blew in through the room.

Brought a sound from
outside,

Had he fall'n to his DOOM?

They looked down from the
window,

To the dark streets below,

Searching where his old body
had fallen.

Then much to their shock,

Heard a cheery 'Hello',

Couldn't see from where he
was callin'.

Then Agnes the Barmaid,
Looked on not in fear!

For he rode in a sleigh,
Pulled by tiny reindeer.

As he soared through the
night,

Above old London-town,

A shower of bright gifts,
Came a-tumble-ing down!

A doll and a horse,
And a train and a toy,

A nice gift for every
Good girl and good boy.

For there 'bove the snow,
Covered rooftops he'd jingle.

He waved and he laughed, He
was old man Kris Kringle!

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a
friend of mine.

And so, Agnes the Barmaid
Swept out the dark room.

She opened the windows
To dispel the gloom.

But while cleaning the
chamber,

Dear girl got a fright,

When she opened a cupboard,

And found him that night!

Old Saint Nick, he lept
up, Chased on down

to the streets. For the
Lodger had mugged him,

And stolen the treats.

As he soared through the
air,

Screamed with evil delight:

"Merry Christmas to all,

And to all a good night!
[EVIL CHUCKLE]

Oh, are you okay?

[GASPING FOR AIR]
Oh yeah, yeah.

I'm just a little bruised,
like...

ALL OVER MY BODY!

Larry, do you know
why I'm wearing this

purple and green outfit?

To look silly?

No...
to hide the bruises.

Doh!

¶¶¶