All language subtitles for 02x01 - Chapter One_ MADMAX.iNTERNAL-STRiFE

Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

- Move it.
- Let's get out of here!

Headed down Poplar, toward Main.

- Get 'em off of us, Mick!
- I'm working on it!

- The alley. To your right.
- Okay.

Shit!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Shit!

Okay. Okay.

- Son of a bitch! We got more!
- Oh, shit!

They're headed down 7th.

Do something, Kali. Do something!

Next right. There's a tunnel. Take it.

We got these bastards now!

Boom.

Holy shit!

Shit! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

What the hell is wrong with you,
Adams? The hell are you doing?

Adams! Come on. What
the hell? Why'd you stop?

Adams! Adams!

Adams, I'm talkin' to you!

Adams! Adams!

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-- www.Addic7ed.com --

_

_

Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!

A police chase rocked downtown
Pittsburgh earlier this evening...

- Another stupid penny!
- Dusty, watch it! You almost hit Mews.

- Can I please check under your cushions?
- Dusty.

Mom, please? It's an emergency!

Who's your buddy? Who's your buddy?

Love you, Mom.

Lucas, you copy? I've got four
quarters. What's your haul?

Take your puny haul
and multiply it by five.

- How?
- While you were scrounging around

like a homeless bum, I mowed
Old Man Humphrey's lawn.

Old Man Humphrey's got that kinda cash?

- Just call Mike already.
- You call Mike.

I have to go take a shower from
doing real work, like a man.

Over and out.

Mike, do you copy? Mike, do you copy?

Yeah. Yeah, I copy.

- What are you doing on this channel?
- Nothing.

Lucas and I have six bucks total.

- What's your haul?
- Shit! I don't know yet.

- What do you mean you don't know yet?
- Hold on. Call Will.

What the hell are you doing?

I'll pay you back!

- Bye!
- Mike!

- Mike! Get back here!
- Hey. No running in the house.

What is going on?

Mike! Mike!

Asshole!

- Hey!
- Okay. So, I'll pick you up in two hours.

- That's 9:00 on the dot, okay?
- Okay.

If anything happens, if
you need to come home,

just ask them to use their
phone and call home. Okay?

- Don't...
- Don't walk or bike home. I know.

- Okay, but, sweetie...
- Mom, I have to go.

Have fun.

To slay the dragon, use the magic sword.

Oh, Jesus! I'm in unchartered
territory here, guys.

- Down! Down! Down!
- I'm going! I'm going!

I'm going! I'm going! I'm going!

Okay. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

No. No. No!

No! No! No! I hate this
overpriced bullshit!

Son of a bitch! Piece of shit!

You're not nimble enough.
But you'll get there one day.

But until then, Princess
Daphne is still mine.

Whatever. I'm still tops
on Centipede and Dig Dug.

You sure about that?

Sure about what?

You're kidding me. No, no, no.

Move! Move! No, no, no,
no, no. Hey, no! No! No!

- 751,300 points!
- That's impossible.

- Who is Mad Max?
- Better than you.

- Is it you?
- You know I despise Dig Dug.

- Then who is it?
- Yeah, spill it, Keith.

You want information, then
I need something in return.

No, no, no. No way. You're
not getting a date with her.

Mike, come on. Just get him the date.

I'm not prostituting my sister!

- But it's for a good cause.
- No, don't get him the date. Know what?

He's gonna spread his nasty-ass
rash to your whole family.

Acne isn't a rash and it isn't
contagious, you prepubescent wastoid.

Oh, I'm a wastoid? She
wouldn't go on a date with you.

You make, like, what? $2.50 an hour?

- Nice perm.
- Gonna make fun of my hair?

Hey. Hey, guys, do you see the...

Will! Are you okay?

Yeah. I just...

- I needed some air.
- Come on. You're up on Dig Dug.

Let's take that top score back, huh?

Good morning, Jim.

- Jim. Hold on a second. We need to talk.
- Get away from me.

Okay, no... I think you
really wanna hear this.

- Get away from me.
- Trust me. I only want five minutes!

Yeah, I want a date with Bo
Derek. We all want things.

This isn't a laughing matter, Jim.

This is serious, okay?

I really got something
here. I'm telling you!

- Hey. Mornin', Chief.
- Morning.

Morning, Murray.

Got any proof on your
butt-probin' aliens yet, Murray?

I believe there was, and may still be,

a Russian spy presence in Hawkins.

Russian spies!

Are the spies in
cahoots with the aliens?

Or how do they fit
in here? I'm confused.

I'm talking multiple reports
now. Multiple reports, okay?

Of a Russian child in Hawkins.

- A child? What are you talking about?
- A girl who may have psionic abilities.

- "Psionic"?
- Psychic.

What about that girl that
made that kid pee himself?

- A prank.
- What girl?

Wasn't a prank.

You got five minutes. Not a second more.

I talked to a Big Buy ex-employee

who said some little girl
shattered the door with her mind.

I heard that story.

Did you hear the one about the fat man
with the beard who climbs down chimneys?

Then last month, a co-worker
of Ted Wheeler's claims

some Russian girl with a shaved
head was hiding in his basement.

Ted now denies this.

- Oh, wow. That's a surprise.
- But it connects.

- Enlighten me.
- This girl,

she's some kind of a
Russian weapon, right?

Barbara sees this girl,
tries to help her, perhaps.

But before she can, the
Russians find them, take them...

Wait. You're telling me Barbara
Holland was kidnapped by Russian spies.

- Kidnapped. Killed.
- Killed?

- Don't you get it, Jim?
- No.

This has potentially
international implications.

I'm talking a full-on Russian
invasion right here in Hawkins.

Do you have any proof of this girl?
I mean, has anybody seen her recently?

These are separate...

Excuse me. Sorry.

- Okay.
- Hello?

Merrill called, wants you
to check out his pumpkins.

- Says they've been contaminated...
- All right.

By his vengeful neighbor,
Eugene. You're welcome.

I'm sorry. I really hate
to do this, but I gotta run.

- It's an emergency.
- You gave me five minutes.

Yeah, listen, you know what? I
liked your alien theory a lot better.

And you want my advice?

Why don't you stop bleeding those
people dry and go home? All right?

- I am not bleeding anyone... dry.
- Listen to me. Go home.

It's crap, I know.

No, it's not crap.

- It's not good.
- It's going to be.

Just... It needs some reorganizing.

- Can I mark on it?
- Yeah, I guess.

So, in the first paragraph,

you used the basketball
game versus Northern

as a metaphor for your
life, which is great.

But then, around here,

you start talking about your
granddad's experiences in the war.

And I... I don't see
how they're connected.

It connects because...

because, you know, we both won.

- Do you think I should start from scratch?
- No. I mean...

When's the deadline?

It's tomorrow for early application.

Can you come and help me tonight?

We have our dinner tonight, remember?

- Oh, my God!
- We already canceled last week.

- You don't have to go. Just work on this.
- No, no, no. What's the point?

- Hey, calm down.
- I'm calm. I'm calm.

I'm just being honest.
You know, I mean...

- I'll end up working for my dad anyway.
- That's not true.

I don't know, Nance. Is
that such a bad thing?

There's insurance and benefits
and all that adult stuff.

And if I took it, you know, I could
be around for your senior year.

- Steve...
- Just to look after you a little bit.

Make sure you don't forget
about this pretty face.

Nance, I'm serious.

- I love you.
- I love you, too.

Who is that?

I have no idea.

But would you check out that ass?

Just look at it go.

Meet the human brain.

I know. I know, it
doesn't look like much.

A little gross even,
right? But consider this.

There are a hundred billion cells
inside of this miracle of evolution.

All working as one.

No, no, I did not
misspeak. I did not stutter.

A hundred billion.

Ah, this must be our new student.

Indeed. All yours.

All right. Hold up. You
don't get away that easy.

Come on up. Don't be shy.

Dustin, drum roll.

Class, please welcome, all
the way from sunny California,

the latest passenger to join us
on our curiosity voyage, Maxine.

- It's Max.
- Sorry?

Nobody calls me Maxine. It's Max.

- Mad Max.
- Well, all aboard, Max.

- Hey, there.
- Hey.

Do you have these in any other
colors? I'm not a big fan of orange.

Hmm...

I'll have to check in back.

Oh, shit!

- You're gonna get me fired.
- That's my master plan.

Get you fired so I can hire you
and we won't have to hide back here.

Bob? Bob, I have to get back to work.

I know. I'm sorry. I can't
stop thinking about you.

- It's crazy. I feel like a teenager.
- Me, too.

You know, in high school,
you didn't know who I was.

Come on.

Bob, I have to get back to work.

Okay.

Go sell your electronic thingamajiggies,

and I'll see you
tonight for movie night.

Jonathan's night to pick?

- Yes.
- Okay.

- Okay. Okay.
- Okay.

Hey, look, a green one.

Tell Jonathan not to pick anything
scary. I hate scary movies.

You're saying this was fine yesterday?

Fine?

These were prize winners,
Chief. You should've seen 'em.

For the life of me, I couldn't
figure out what happened.

And then I remembered... Eugene.

What about him?

He's been complaining about me to
just about anyone who'll listen.

Why's that?

Well, he started this
"Pick Your Pumpkin" thing.

Acted like it was trademarked.

I said, "Hire yourself a damn
lawyer. See how far that gets you."

You're telling me that nice old Eugene

came out here after dark and
doused your field with poison?

Not Eugene himself.

- I'm thinking one of his field hands.
- Uh-huh.

Listen, Chief, I don't go throwing
around accusations lightly. You know me.

This happening the day before
Halloween, when sales are peaking?

That's a hell of a coincidence.

Hell of a coincidence.

You got somebody working on that field?

Yeah, screw you, too.

Hey. Be there.

- Hey, Nancy.
- Hey! Thanks.

- Oh, could I get one more?
- Yeah, sure.

You're coming to this.

"Come and get sheet faced."

No, I'm not.

I can't let you sit all alone
Halloween. That's just not acceptable.

Well, you can relax.
I'm not gonna be alone.

I'm going trick-or-treating with Will.

- All night?
- Yeah.

No, no way. You're
gonna be home by 8:00,

listening to the Talking Heads
and reading Vonnegut or something.

Sounds like a nice night.

Jonathan, just come. I mean, who knows,

you might even, like, meet someone.

- Oh, my God! Take those stupid things off.
- I missed you.

- It's been like an hour.
- Tell me about it.

Okay. Okay, okay. God.

Sorry.

- There's no way that's Mad Max.
- Yeah. Girls don't play video games.

And even if they did, you can't
get 750,000 points on Dig Dug.

- It's impossible.
- But her name is Max.

- So what?
- So, how many Maxes do you know?

- I don't know.
- Zero. That's how many.

She shows up at school

the day after someone with her
same name breaks our top score.

- I mean, you kidding me?
- Exactly. So she's gotta be Mad Max.

And plus she skateboards,
so she's pretty awesome.

Awesome? You haven't
even spoken a word to her.

I don't have to. I mean, look at
her. Shit, I've lost the target.

Oh! There.

Got it. There we go.

"Stop spying on me, creeps."

Well, shit.

William Byers.

Your mother's here.

You guys think he's okay?

He's always weird when he has to go in.

I don't know. He's quiet today.

He's always quiet.

You feeling any better?

Will?

Huh?

Yeah. Yeah, sorry.

Hey. What did we talk about, huh?
You've got to stop it with the sorries.

Sorry. I mean, yeah, I know.

And listen, you know, there's
nothing to be nervous about, you know.

Just tell 'em what you felt
last night and what you saw.

Hey, I'm gonna be there the whole
time. So it's gonna be okay. Okay?

Okay.

- Hey, buddy.
- Hey.

Hey.

Sir Will, how are you?

Mom. Pop.

Let's take a look, see
what's going on here.

I see you shaved off a
pound since we saw you last.

Must be making room for
all that Halloween candy.

What's your favorite candy?

Desert island candy,
if you had to pick one?

- I don't know.
- Come on.

Life or death situation,
what would you pick?

- I guess... Reese's Pieces.
- Reese's Pieces.

Good call. Good call.

I'm more of a Mounds guy,

but I gotta say, peanut butter and
chocolate, come on, hard to beat that.

All right, tell me
what's going on with you.

Tell me about this episode you had.

Well, my friends were there
and then they just weren't,

and I was back there again.

In the Upside Down?

All right, so what happened next?

I heard this noise, and so I
went outside, and it was worse.

How was it worse?

There was this storm.

Okay. So how did you feel
when you saw the storm?

I felt...

frozen.

- Heart racing?
- Just frozen.

Frozen, cold frozen?
Frozen to the touch?

No. Like how you feel
when you're scared,

and you can't breathe
or talk or do anything.

I felt... felt this evil,
like it was looking at me.

It was evil?

Well... What do you
think the evil wanted?

To kill.

To kill you?

Not me.

Everyone else.

All right, I'm gonna be honest with you.

It's probably gonna get
worse before it gets better.

Worse? He's already had
two episodes this month.

He'll likely have more
before the month is out.

It's called the Anniversary Effect.
And we've seen this with soldiers.

The anniversary of an event
brings back traumatic memories.

Sort of opens up the neurological
floodgates, so to speak.

So what does this mean for the kid?

He's gonna have more
episodes, nightmares?

Yeah, that. Maybe some
personality changes.

He might get irritable.
He might lash out.

What do we do when that happens?

Okay. Well, from what we know
about post-traumatic stress...

And we're still learning,
okay? Just treat him normally.

Be patient with him.
Don't pressure him to talk.

Just let him lead the way.

I'm sorry, what you're saying
is it's gonna get worse and worse

and we're just supposed to
pretend it's not happening?

It sounds counterintuitive, I know.

But I assure you that is really
the best thing you can do for him.

Listen. I understand what you
went through last year. I get it.

But those people are
gone. They're gone. Okay?

So if we're gonna get through this,

I just... I need you to
realize I'm on your side.

I need you to trust me.

"Trust me"?

- Are you kidding me?
- Yeah, I know.

But, you know, university gives
out a degree, this guy's got it.

And look, that post-traumatic stuff
he's talking about, that stuff is real.

He's gonna be okay. All right?

How's Bob the Brain?

Don't call him that.

Sorry. Old habit.

He's good. We're good.

Good. I'm happy for you.

Really. Hey...

Things get worse, you call me first.

You call me.

Okay.

They're ready for you, sir.

- Patty.
- Sam.

Afternoon, sir.

- Looks like another hot one today, huh?
- Never gets old, sir.

Still no sign?

Jack shit.

Oh! Damn it. My mom's gonna murder me.

So go home. I'll radio if she comes.

Oh, yeah, nice try. You just want me

out of here so you can make your move.

- Oh, 'cause you're such a threat.
- That's right.

She will not be able
to resist these pearls.

- Ten o'clock. Ten o'clock.
- What?

- They're arguing. They're arguing.
- Oh, my God.

I see that. I don't even
know why you need those.

God. You're so stupid.

She's incredible.

She's...

Mad Max.

After dinner, I want you to pick
out your toys for the yard sale.

- Fine.
- Two boxes' worth.

- Two boxes?
- You heard me.

I'm fine with you giving away a couple,

but the other ones have way
too much emotional value.

- Emotional value?
- They're hunks of plastic, Michael.

You already took away my Atari.

Didn't wanna lose more toys, you
shouldn't have stolen from Nancy.

I didn't steal. I borrowed.

Oh, and you didn't curse out Mr.
Kowalski last week either, right?

Or plagiarize that essay? Or
graffiti the bathroom stall?

Everyone graffitis the bathroom stall.

So if your friend jumps off a
cliff, you're gonna jump, too?

We know you've had a hard year,
Michael. But we've been patient.

This isn't strike one. This
isn't even strike three.

It's strike 20. You're
on the bench, son.

And if it'd been my coach, you'd
be lucky to still be on the team.

Two boxes. Two.

Okay. Ready?

Yeah.

Okay.

I'm so sorry I didn't get to cook.

I was gonna make that baked
ziti you guys like so much,

but I just forgot about the
time, and before you know it,

"Oh, my God, it's five o'clock."

- It's fine. It's great.
- Right. I love KFC.

So, I noticed a "For Sale"
sign out in your yard.

Is that the neighbors', or...

- You wanna tell them?
- Go ahead.

We hired a man named Murray Bauman.

Have either of you heard of him?

- No.
- No, I don't think so.

He was an investigative journalist
for the Chicago Sun-Times.

He's pretty well known.

Anyway, he's freelance now,
and he agreed to take the case.

That's... That's great.

No, that's really...
That's great, right?

Um, what exactly does that mean?

Means he's gonna do what that
lazy son of a bitch Jim Hop...

Sorry.

What the Hawkins police
haven't been capable of doing.

Means we have a real
detective on the case.

It means...

we're going to find our Barb.

If anyone can find her, it's this man.

He already has leads. By God,
he's worth every last penny.

Is that why you're selling the house?

Don't worry about us,
sweetie. We're fine.

More than fine.

For the first time in a
long time, we're hopeful.

Excuse me. I'll be right back.

- It's finger-lickin' good.
- Mmm.

El, are you there? El?

It's me. It's Mike.

It's day 352, 7:40 p.m.

I'm still here.

If you're out there, say
something. Or give me a sign.

I won't even say anything. Just...
I wanna know if you're okay.

I'm so stupid.

Mike.

- Mike?
- Hello, is that you?

Yeah, it's me, Dustin. What're
you doing on this channel again?

I've been trying to reach you all
day. We were right. Max is Mad Max.

- Yeah, I'm busy.
- But...

- What do we do now?
- We stick to the plan.

Mike's not gonna like it.

Last time I checked, our
party is not a dictatorship.

- It's a democracy.
- What if Max says no?

How can Max say no to these?

I told you to stop that.

- I'll see you tomorrow.
- Later.

Mews!

Mews.

- Stop. Stop!
- What?

Come on, you gotta get used
to it. This is the future.

Well, put the future down
and get me a clean bowl.

Hey, bud. I didn't know what
you'd like, so I got a variety.

- Take your pick.
- Whatever you want.

All right.

What are you working on?

Zombie Boy? Who's Zombie Boy?

- Me.
- Did someone call you that?

Hey. You can talk to
me. You know that, right?

Whatever happened. Will,
come on, talk to me.

- Stop treating me like that.
- What? Like what?

Like everyone else. Like
there's something wrong with me.

What are you talking about?

Mom, Dustin, Lucas. Everyone.

They all treat me like I'm gonna break.

Like I'm a baby. Like I
can't handle things on my own.

It doesn't help. It just makes
me feel like more of a freak.

- You're not a freak.
- Yeah, I am.

I am.

You know what? You're right.

You are a freak.

- What?
- No, I'm serious. You're a freak.

But what? Do you wanna be normal?

Do you wanna be just like everyone else?

Being a freak is the best. I'm a freak.

Is that why you don't have any friends?

I have friends, Will.

Then why are you always
hanging out with me?

Because you're my
best friend, all right?

And I would rather be best friends with

Zombie Boy than with a boring nobody.

You know what I mean?

Okay, look...

Who would you rather be friends
with? Bowie or Kenny Rogers?

Ugh.

Exactly. It's no contest.

The thing is, nobody normal

ever accomplished anything
meaningful in this world.

- You got it?
- Well...

- some people like Kenny Rogers.
- Kenny Rogers.

I love Kenny Rogers.

- What's so funny?
- Nothing.

Mr. Mom. Perfect!

Where's Mommy keep the extra diapers?

Hey! Cowards.

Hey.

It's okay. Let it go.

Probably just a crank call.

- Okay.
- Holy mackerel!

- Let it go.
- Aw, man!

Hey, what'd we talk about?

No signal.

- What?
- No signal.

It's 8-1-5. You're late.

Yeah, I lost track of time.
I'll signal next time, all right?

Uh, and it's 8:15. It's not 8-1-5.

Eight-fifteen.

Now, what did we talk about?

Dinner first, then dessert. Always.

That's a rule.

Yeah?

Yes.

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
-- www.Addic7ed.com --