All language subtitles for Ernie Biscuit

Ernie was a taxidermist.

Like his father.

His father his father.

And his father's father's.

Ant.

It was the swinging sixties.

Everything was new and groovy.

Ernie was old and dusty.

And often wondered if he'd
become an exhibit in his own store.

Taxidermy was out of fashion

and in these modern times
he had to be.

Resourceful.

He was also def.

Robbed of his hearing.

By a summer camp bully.

He never spoke again

and people presumed him

dumb.

He became

withdrawn.

Spending his days drawing.

Ernie yearned for the days
when his life seemed this

frozen.

The only person who
ever understood him.

Was Nanette.

She was a little Jewish girl,

whose parents owned
the deli next door.

She loved birds

and her hair smells like

cinnamon.

He liked to draw her.

And promised

they'd get married
on a gondola in venice

ate spaghetti

and raise pigeons.

Ernie's mother called her

an extrovert.

She was a peacock.

Ernie a little grey sparrow
with broken wings.

On her eighth birthday

Ernie gave her

a duck egg.

She named it.

After her favorite singer.

Edith.

Their friendship blossomed.

And at night.

They sent messages
via morse code.

He told her how much he liked her
cinnamon flavored hair.

She told him ways
to be more brave.

Be the windscreen nanny.

Not the insect.

But one night

their happiness was
suddenly taken away.

The Germans invaded.

Nanette and her
family disappeared.

Forever.

The years had dribbled on

and all Ernie had
to remember her by

was his drawing.

And an aging
Edith.

Wak !

Life would become
style and wrinkled.

The dead pigeons arrival
had triggered tender memories

and like most of his problems.

He tried to numb them.

Ernie's brain began to swirl.

And the dead
pigeon began to talk.

Iza witzry

Adea.

Tadzè itzre.

Itzre.

Something inside
Ernie shifted.

The pigeon was right

it was time to be brave,
time to give his life...

...A dusting.

In a burst of courage

he sold his store

and bought a one way ticket
to Venice.

The world was there oyster.

Venice would be the Pearl.

Ernie's oyster had become...

A clan.

They staggered out
into the weirdness.

It grew dark.

They drifted aimlessly
looking for somewhere to stay.

Eventually they gave up

taking refuge
amongst some refuse.

Ernie awoke to find he'd been
robbed of his clothes hat money...

...and dignity.

And then.

A man with a machete arrived.

But the stranger was kind.

He owned the takeaway
and his name was...

Tiny.

He took them in
and lent Ernie some clothes.

Then fill their bellies with
Australian deep fried delicacies.

Chiko rolls.
Dim sims.

And a mysterious
black substance called

Vegemite.

They could stay as
long as they liked.

Ernie would sleep
on the ping pong.

Fetus in one of Tiny's woks.

Ernie wrote down his name.

Tiny decided to translate it
to something more Australian.

Ernie biscuit.

After explaining
the predicament.

Tiny encouraged
Ernie to find a job.

While he minded
he does.

Australia was a land of
milk and honey and beer...

Tiny said.

Ernie would raise the
cash for Venice in no time.

After hours of
wandering and worrying.

He stumbled across
some street vendors.

Ernie's problems were solved.

Tiny was very impressed
and suggested they celebrate.

With beer.

They boost will into the night
and got to know each other.

Ernie learned that Tiny
was as lonely as he was.

And often walked in the rain
so no one could see him cry.

That night he scoured the lonely
hearts hoping to find another pie

to share his pod.

He encouraged Ernie
to do the same.

Tony said.

There were plenty of Australian ladies
desperate to meet a classy foreigner.

They'd come flocking like
seagulls to a bag of chips.

Tiny found Ernie a date.

Angelina.

Tiny arranged a meeting.

He lend Ernie he's lucky
hat and tuxedo t-shirt.

Then doused him in Cologne

and sent him off to
the local singles bar.

Ernie was overwhelmed.

Angelina was beautiful.

Beautiful beyond words.

Of which of course
he had none to offer.

She felt his presence

and questioned his silence.

The tension built.

Ernie grew nervous and trembly.

And subconsciously
began tapping morse code.

As Angelina was the
daughter of a lighthouse keeper

to Ernie's shock and delight.

She tapped back.

Through the power of
touch the date began

and stories unfolded.

Blind since birth.

Angelina was a lonely virgin who
spent her days whittling wooden animals.

Her only friends.

She was an empty
notebook waiting to be written.

And her yearning for
love was finally attained

when a traveling ice sculptor
came to town

and chiseled his way.

Into her heart.

Their love was instant

but it was flawed.

He was full of vices.

Whiskey was his master

he was an enigma,
wrapped in a mustache.

Floating in a
bottle of virility.

They were to be wed.

The whole town came.

But he...

never did.

She traveled the world in
search of another flame.

But to no avail.

The sands in her hour
glass were running dry.

And her loneliness grew.

She even began to
ride roller coasters.

Just to feel alive.

And yet just yesterday
she had met with a clairvoyant

who foresaw she only had
one last chance in love.

He'd be tall.

Handsome

and smell like the sea.

Ernie was enamored.

He felt the impulse
to draw her portrait

in braille.

The heart
melted.

She kissed his handsome nose

as his Cologne
filled her nostrils.

He smelled like the sea.

He was the one.

Love glued this
splintered hearts together.

They threw caution to the
wind and set course for Venice.

She packed her bags while Ernie
went together Edith and farewell Tiny.

She whittled while she waited.

But life still had one
more challenge for any.

Tiny's takeaway
was locked and barred.

Something was askew.

He picked into Tiny's
upstairs room and

filled with horror.

Tiny was a fraud.

A bold wolf in sheep's clothing.

All he wanted
from the beginning.

Was Edith juicy flesh.

Ernie was light.

Angelina's paranoia
began to rise.

So many men had led her down.

Ernie became desperate.

There was only one way in.

It was time to be
the windscreen.

Not the insect.

Fortune had favoured the brave.

Ernie had become the windscreen.

And Angelina had found
a tall handsome man.

Who smelled like the sea.

He does admire the
new whittled Blake.

Their love was blind.

And the silence was golden.

-x-x-x-