All language subtitles for The.Tick.S01E07.WEB.H264-DEFLATE

TICK: At one time or another,
every Tom, Dick and LeShonda

suffers the loss
of a loved one.

I, The Tick, am no exception.

TICK (in distance):
Arthur!

A loss that can throw
even a super-together hero

like myself into
a lap pool of despair.

(in distance):
Arthur!

Cause him to lose focus,
take him off-mission...

and cause him to lose focus.

Arthur!

Which naturally makes
finding your lost loved one

all the more important.

Arthur!

For the last time,
he's not here. Now go away!

You're scaring my customers.

Where are you, compadre?

Okay, okay, okay.

Okay. The Terror.

I'm a prisoner of The Terror.

That's f-fine, because Tick
is gonna come save me,

before I get tortured--
or maybe after I get tortured.

I can't really afford
to be picky in that situation.

KARAMAZOV: You're in one
of the high turnover cells.

-Hello?
-Perhaps you're just food

for one of his animals.

Frankly, I'd rather be food.
(chuckles)

Hello?

Hello? Hey, hey,
can you hear me?

I'm not talking to myself.

Like some people.

Who are you?

A prisoner, like yourself.

What's your name?

-Arthur.
-Nice to meet you, Arthur.

My name is Dr. Mischa Karamazov.

What?

♪ ♪

Yeah, we had some good times.

In the beginning, you think
it's always gonna be like this,

then poof.

Blown away, like pussy willow
whiskers on the wind.

Wherever you are, little buddy,
I hope you're happy.

Are you happy, Arthur?
You can tell me.

You can whisper it if you like.

You're talking to a glove.

I don't know what is happening.

I can barely breathe, I can't
move my head, I feel like I...

I've fallen off a cliff
inside my own body.

-What is this?
-Your friend's absence.

It's breaking your heart.

-Well, I hate it.
-I know.

If Arthur was here,
he'd put a stop to this.

Tick man.

You're not doing yourself
or me any good here.

When was the last time
you checked for him

at his apartment?

Of course.

The one place
I hadn't thought to check.

When Arthur's not around,
I can be shockingly helpless.

I had no idea.

Arthur?

Arthur, are you here?

(radio static crackles)

(dispatcher speaks indistinctly)

What are you doing up there?

Nothing.

What do you mean, "nothing"?

Just... stop looking at me.

TICK:
Arthur!

(crashing, clattering)

-Where's Arthur?
-I was just about to ask you

the same question.

Where's Arthur?

Fucked, that's where he is.

I was on a call with him last
night and the line went dead.

Sounded like someone
grabbed him off the street.

Arthur? Grabbed?

-Off? -Got to be Ramses
and his goons.

Except Ramses is dead.

Where'd you get that from?

I know a place
where the Pyramid gang shows up.

I-I go there and I listen
to their conversations

and their phone calls;
it's why I came.

That's extremely dangerous.

Yeah, well, so are you.

The last time I saw you,
you were dragging Ramses off

to get information.

Did you kill him?

Did you make my brother
a party to murder?

Whoa, there, little Dot.

There was no murder party.

That viper was still alive

when he slithered
through our fingers.

Okay. Say I believe that.

And you.

If it wasn't Ramses,
then who took Arthur?

Isn't it obvious?

I'm gonna say some kind of cult?

-(groans)
-Okay, we have to do something.

We have to call the police, we
have to call AEGIS, and then...

Ramses was our proof about
The Terror. Now he's gone.

No one's gonna believe you.

It's up to you and me.

-And me. -We don't have time
for amateur hour.

If your brother's still alive,

Tick and I are the only
possible shot at rescue.

Or a glorious,
revenge-soaked suicide.

I lean toward the former.

We'll regroup with Dangerboat,

go with the same plan
we already had in place...

You're not doing
any plan without me.

-Okay. -Don't give me that.
He's my brother, and...

What?

Just remembered
it's a three-person plan.

-You're in.
-Oh. (chuckles)

I'm in. I'm in.

Neat.

Wait, you can't be
Dr. Karamazov.

I mean, it said on the news
that Mischa Karamazov died

in an Urmanian lab explosion.

KARAMAZOV:
I'm not exploded--

Do I sound exploded?

I was stolen,
along with my work.

Project Achilles?

Where did you hear that name?

Heard it from you, actually.

Saw your video
on the flying suit.

You wore the suit?

It's imprinted on you?

Mm, so I'm told.

Project Achilles was a secret
Urmanian weapons program

aimed at Superian.

-Wasn't it?
-Yes.

Do you know Urmanians?

No.

Very paranoid people.

It's very unfortunate
that you put on that suit.

Unfortunate? What-what do you
mean? Why unfortunate?

Hey. What are you guys doing?

Stop it! Let me go!

(drums playing upbeat rhythm)

This is one of your nightmares.
That's it, that's all this is.

This is one of your nightmares.

PHIL:
Faster! Faster!

You're dragging!

Dragging!

Is that as fast as you can play,
you fossilized fuckface?!

Don't look at me!

(grunting)

PHIL:
I-I'm sorry.

Was that too much?
I can pull it back.

You're going too easy on me.

Alexa, play me some Richcraft.

ALEXA:
Excerpts from Richcraft,

released in 1959
by Mercury Records.

(lively jazz music
begins playing)

Hear that, putz?

-Mm-hmm. -That's what
I want to sound like.

You got two more lessons
to get me there.

Throw Phil back in his cage.

And put him on half rations.

Maybe that'll inspire you
to be more demanding next time.

Ah. Morning, sun...

-Alexa, shut up!
-(music stops playing)

Morning, sunshine.

You passed out on me last night.

It's okay,
you don't have to talk.

I just hate killing a puppy
when it's asleep.

Takes all the shriek out of it.

So, you put on this suit
that you stole from me,

and somehow you think,

"I'm a big brave
superhero," huh?

Uh, oh, no, no,
I-I never thought that I was...

Well, let's see
how brave you are

when I try out
my first blood eagle on you.

Ever hear of that?

(quietly):
No.

It's a Viking thing.

Saw it on the History channel.

Gonna slice open your sternum,
crack open your ribs,

and I'm gonna pull
your lungs out!

How's that grab you?

What is that?

That thing you're doing
with your eye.

Wait.

(laughs)

Are you one of mine?

(gasps)

Ice cream!

The kid in the photo.

That was you.

Didn't I kill your dog
or something?

You killed my father.

Yeah, right, dad.
I knew it was something.

MISS LINT: Loved my new
grounding bracelets, Terror.

Janet, get over here.

(Terror laughs)

Remember the kid
from Time magazine?

The one I messed with
after we finished off

the Flag fuck-ups.

Arthur Everest.

Mm, yeah, sounds right.
Everest.

Guess who we got here.

In the flesh.

Eh, for the time being.

So you're gonna kill him?

You make that sound
like a bad thing.

I'm done with the little pecker
for now.

Toss him back in the hole.

-Terror?
-Huh?

I have friends
who are superheroes,

real superheroes.

And they're coming for me.

And when they get here,
oh, you're going down, sucker!

Hmm.

-Goddamn it.
-Yeah, uh,

don't do that.

Get Foxy Brown out of here.

What? Let go of me. Let go.

-What are you gonna do with him?
-Let go of me!

The universe sings to me, Janet.

And it just gave me the melody
I've been looking for.

Dangerboat, almost in position
to commence scanning.

Do you copy?

DANGERBOAT:
We're supposed to be undercover.

Don't use my name
on an open channel.

I am not calling you Steve.

Fine. Will prime
and ready cargo cannon

once entry point is located.
Steve out.

Are we ready?
Is it time?

-Is it go-time, Steve?
-Not yet.

-Remember the plan.
-Oh...

First scan, then aerial assault.
Relax.

I am a creature of action.

I need an act to act upon

when action-packed
rescue drama is afoot.

I must have an action!

-Sit down.
-(sighs)

All right.

(sighs):
Oh.

Well, that took the edge off.

For the moment.

Stop looking at me.

You ever think about maybe
lightening up a little bit?

I don't know, smiling, maybe?

I lighten up, I smile,
I'm as good as dead.

-I live on the edge.
-Well, there's got to be

a happy medium though, right?

Happy mediums
get people killed.

We need to stay sharp,
so stop this.

Stop what?

Creating idle banter
to distract yourself

from the cold, hard reality

that your brother's
in mortal danger,

if not already dead.

He's probably not dead.

I'm not good
at comforting people.

No, that was great. Thanks.

Hey, Dr. Karamazov, I'm back.

You there?

You napping or something?

-Who are you talking to?
-Uh, no one. It's a dog.

(stammers) Uh, talking to, uh,
Queenie, my childhood dog.

I'm off my meds.
I see things that aren't there,

dogs, demons--
I talk to them sometimes.

-I'm an unreliable narrator.
-Spare me.

Geez. No wonder there were
so many shrinks

at your mom and dad's house.

He's not my dad.

Hey. Hey, wait a second.

You played me.

Acting like you had no idea
The Terror was still alive,

when all along
you were working for him.

I didn't know anything
until yesterday.

Not that I owe you an
explanation or anything else.

You owe my mom a vacuum cleaner.

Can you just shut up
for one second?

I'm trying to tell you
something.

What? What, that I'm an idiot?

I'm a moron who's in
way over his head?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry you're
in this situation.

Yeah, well, if you were
really sorry, you wouldn't have

pointed The Terror
right in my direction.

I didn't have to.

He knew exactly where
to find you and the suit.

You made yourself quite visible
with that little bus stunt.

I tried to tell The Terror
that you're a little nothing.

A meaningless spec of dust,
not worth his time.

Okay, well, I appreciate that.

But he's just so looking forward
to eviscerating you.

If you really feel
so bad about that,

you would help me escape
from here.

I'm sorry. I can't.

There we go with the sorry
again. Is that all you can say?

I'm sorry.
I can't tell you

(whispering): that you should
take the staircase

right outside this door.

Turn right at the top,

until it leads
to a series of tunnels

marked by red lights.

And I especially can't tell you
that if you turn left

at the T-junction,
it will lead you outside.

(whispering):
Well, it doesn't really matter

if you can't tell me
any of that,

if there's no way for me
to get out of this cell

in the first place.

(key clinks on floor)

Are you genuinely trying
to help me?

And if so, why are you
genuinely trying to help me?

If you only knew of the torture
he intends to inflict,

why I'm helping you

is so the last question
you'd be asking.

(scanner beeping)

Hey.

What? Are you getting a reading?

No, I was just wondering
why you're really doing this.

You're not the sentimental type.

If you had to choose
between saving my brother

and killing The Terror,
what would it be?

The Terror took everything
from me.

Including a man as important
to me as your father was to you.

I know what family means.

I'd choose to save your brother.

Then kill The Terror.

I said one choice.
That's a cheat.

I cheat death.

Wha-- no.

That doesn't even track
with my question.

I don't follow tracks.
Tracks follow me.

I don't even know
what you're doing now;

it's like a non sequitur
poetry jam.

(scanner beeping)

Hey, I got something.
I think.

What is it?

An unsecured tunnel.

DANGERBOAT: I have
a very clear sense of self.

I'm aware I'm a boat,
but I identify as a male boat.

-Like a mailbox?
-No.

A boat that is male.

Specifically, one who's capable
of attraction for another male.

Boat?

I don't distinguish,
but can a boat be homosexual

if the prefix is derived
from the Greek word for "same"?

When, clearly, we're not.

-Not what?
-The same.

-Who?
-Arthur and I.

Uh...

What are we talking about again?

-OVERKILL: DB, do you copy?
-It's Steve. Go ahead.

We've got an entry point.

Lock in coordinates
I'm sending to you now.

Coordinates locked in.

Tick, grab my gear
and head to the cargo cannon.

Those are some
action directives.

Converting shower
to cargo cannon now.

Great granny's corset,
I'm in a tight spot.

DANGERBOAT:
Countdown. Three.

-Hold on, chum.
-Two.

-The big blue yonder's
coming for you. -One.

Pensacola...!

(rapid drumming in distance)

(lock clicks)

(door creaks)

(drumming continues)

♪ ♪

Karamazov.

(groans)
Yeah. God.

(drumming continues)

How'd it go?

Out of his cell,
following instructions.

And the suit?

-Just put it on.
-Perfect.

So, are you gonna tell me
why you wanted him to escape?

Inspiration.

This is a part of the job
that's most like music.

And the rhythm,
the rhythm is coming to me now.

(ride cymbal playing)

Ah. The instruments
are all taking their places.

Karamazov.

The V-L-M.

V-L-M?

Made him, too.

Huge part of the plan.

And now,
the kid with the flying suit.

They're all just waiting
for me to conduct.

It's a simple tempo
that starts allargando,

very slowly.

Then, adagio.

Going faster to accelerando.

(alarm blaring)

Airborne incoming,
traveling at high velocity.

-(drumming continues)
-(guard grunts)

-Take cover.
-(drumming continues)

(grunts)

-(guard groans)
-Huh.

Dr. Karamazov, are you okay?

You're wearing
my aerial defense suit.

ARTHUR:
Uh-huh.

And-and you're, uh...

you're... are, uh...

Dr. Karamazov, yes.

What did they do to you?

This?

I did this.

Shrink ray accident years ago.
(chuckles)

I've adapted to it.
Hold this, will you?

God, I'm so sorry.

(clears throat)
I mean, um, good for you.

What are you doing in my suit?

I'm gonna get us out of here.

I know the way.

Then what are we waiting for?

No, I need some answers first.

The Terror wanted your help
to kill Superian, right?

The most powerful superhero
on Earth.

So, how is that even possible?

Years ago, I stumbled upon
a strange, rare element

near the Tunguska River
in Russia.

It was only by accident
that I discovered it contained

radioactive properties
injurious to Superian.

W-What's the element?

I call it "Big Bismuth."

I-I'm sorry, what?

-(alarm blaring)
-Listen. We have no time.

Get me out of here
and I'll explain everything.

Okay, follow me and stay close.

What?

You need to carry me.

-(under breath): Oh, no.
-I can't move quickly, you see.

I won't be able
to keep up with you.

The stairs, I can't climb them.

Hmm?

Don't jostle me.

I'm prone to motion sickness.

Sorry.

I'm in!

(groans)

(shudders)

Oh, the desecration.

I am so sorry,

"Rebecca S. Baumer,
beloved wife and mo."

Hmm.

My favorite gun.

Take it. I want you to have it.

Guard this point of entry.

Make sure we're not flanked
from behind.

Flanked. Right.

Just shoot anyone who's not us.

Got it.

Huh.

Tick, put the jewelry down
and get out of the corpse.

I will. I will do that.

(alarm continues blaring)

We have a serious breach.

Ooh, yeah.

-And there's something else.
-Hmm?

Everest took the scientist
with him.

(laughs)

You said Karamazov was key.

Fuck him.

Got all I need from that shrimp.

Drop a dime on him
to the Armenian embassy.

Tell them he blew up his own
lab, defected to the West.

They'll pop a cap
in his tiny ass.

It's ice cream boy
that's got me tickled.

Instead of running to freedom,
little punk chose to come back

and save my scientist.

That means, all those years ago,

I created exactly
what I need now, a hero.

Come on.
Let's blow this joint.

God, I can't see a thing.

-Turn on your light.
-I have a light?

Touch it.

Did you even read the manual?

ARTHUR:
Whoa.

(Arthur groans)

(panting)

(Arthur shouts)

(panting)

KARAMAZOV:
Hurray!

Arthur!

(Arthur shouting)

Hey, wait-wait,
where are you going?

We got to keep moving.

My, God.

I have not seen the sky
in years.

ARTHUR:
Don't worry, my friend.

I promise you,

no one will ever make you
their prisoner ever ag...

-(groans)
-I'm sorry!

-Very sorry!
-Ah, Dr. Karamazov!

(in distance):
I'm sorry!

ARTHUR: Come on, I need you
to help stop The Terror!

You said you'd
explain everything.

Arthur!

Dot?

What are you doing here?

I came to rescue you.

What's with the gun?

Covering your flank.

Okay.

C-4.

I see more than four.

Damn you, Terror!

(Dot grunts)

God, are you okay?

Arthur...

Tick and Overkill
were down there.