All language subtitles for Invasion of the Bee Girls.eng

Here it is.

John Doe.

John Doe's a legitimate name, Capt. Peters.

- What you got?
- His wallet was under the bed.

His name was Grubowsky.

Just one more question, Mrs. Grubowsky.

I know how difficult this must be.

Did your husband have any previous history
of heart trouble?

No.

Anything else?

Among other things, coronary thrombosis.

Meaning?

Clot in the right and left ventricle...

formed by a coagulation of the blood...

due from extreme exhaustion.

Was he fooling around?

Was he ever.

Like I said, I was in the room next door,
but I didn't hear anything...

not a sound.

Are you sure? Think carefully.

Except maybe for one thing.

- Go ahead.
- He left the TV set on.

- Remember what was playing?
- It was after it went off the air.

- I could hear it humming.
- Humming?

- Do you know what time that was?
- About 10:00 p.m., I guess. I don't know.

- Anything else?
- No, that's everything.

Thank you for your cooperation.
We know how to get in touch with you.

- They have all that written down.
- Okay.

We'll be right over.

Don't know if it means anything,
but check the local TV stations.

- Right.
- What's the matter?

They just found another body.

Hi.

What can I do for you?

I'm Neil Agar...

- State Department of Security.
- Yeah.

It's been a madhouse around here.

Somewhere in this mess
of bureaucratic garbage is your telegram.

- Sorry I couldn't meet you at the airport.
- That's okay.

Could I take a look
at the Grubowsky file, please?

When do the stitches come out?

They're out.

I've been briefed. They asked me
to help keep you out of trouble.

- What happened?
- Nothing much, really.

I guess they sent me down on this one,
it looks easy after that last one.

That's what I figured.

I don't know what the government
wants in this one for. Seems innocuous.

The Pentagon likes to keep an eye on
government-sponsored research facilities...

like Brandt. You know.

Incidentally, we had another one.

Another what?

Another death.
Heart attack, massive coronary...

I've scheduled an autopsy.

- Somebody at Brandt, Captain?
- No, kid at the factory.

You think the government
wants in that one, too?

It was there all the time.

A kid with heart failure?

Thanks.

Neil Agar. I'm expected.

- It's through that double door.
- Thank you.

Can I help you?

I'm sorry, he's not in his office.

Michael Levy, please call reception.

I'm really sorry.

This place is really impressive.
Who's in charge?

- I am.
- Really?

Yes.

I'm Neil Agar, State Department of Security.

I'm here
to investigate Prof. Grubowsky's death.

What can I do for you?

You assisted him, didn't you,
on his Bacteriological Warfare report?

- That's right.
- Could I see the file, please?

That's highly confidential information.

You wouldn't want me
to pull rank on you, would you?

May I see your clearance?

Now may I see the file, please?

Will Mr. Paul Heller please call reception?

How dare you go through my things?

It's just part of the job.

But you were the last person
to see him alive...

and you had dinner with him
on the night he was murdered.

Why do you say murdered?

Sorry.

We had dinner that night...

whenever we work late
we always have dinner.

Gretchen knew about it.

- Gretchen?
- His wife.

How convenient.

All right, you might as well know.

We went to dinner
at the Flamingo Bar and Grill.

By about 10:00 we were playing kneesies
under the table and having dessert...

like the good old days.

Then we went to the motel,
and then it happened.

What happened?

We balled and we balled and we balled,
till he dropped dead.

Touch�.

Let's go to lunch.

It's a small town, Mr. Agar.
Nothing ever really happens here.

So we have to find ways
to amuse ourselves.

We never really get a chance
to get down to LA.

There are a lot of sex games
that go on here...

wife-swapping
and a lot of related nonsense.

Scientists really aren't any different
from the rest of human beings.

Just a bit more inventive is all.

Excuse me.

Am I boring you, Mr. Agar?

I'm sorry. You were saying?

All of Jack's friends
are notorious Don Juans.

And you know that
from your own personal experience?

Still doing your job, Mr. Agar?

Do me a favor, will you?

Just call me Neil.

That's Dr. Murger.
He's head of Reproductive Biology.

His pet project...

is the study of the two-way transmission
of sensory sexual information.

He's quite a loner, though.

I've yet to see him in the company
of a woman. Ironic for a sex researcher.

Is he straight?

I haven't the vaguest.

Why don't you go get undressed?

Can't you wait?

Jesus Christ!

I can't believe he's gone.

I didn't know Grubowsky had a bad heart.

No one did.

I'd sure like to meet the girl he was with.

At least there couldn't have been
too much pain involved.

I mean, how would you classify that?

Accidental manslaughter.

- You know what I've always hoped?
- What?

- That when my time comes...
- Yes.

...there'd be a few seconds of ecstasy...

and then...

oblivion.

Just think about it, boys...

coming and going at the same time.

Hello.

Gretchen Grubowsky?

Yes, this is she.

It's very important we have a talk.

Who is this?

I knew your late husband very well.

Who?

I was the last person to see him alive...

if you know what I mean.

I was with him in the motel.

I don't know what you're talking about.
My husband never...

Don't lie to yourself.
It's very important we meet.

It's a matter of his good name.
You understand?

Yes, I understand.

I'll pick you up at the corner of Pine and Hill
in half an hour.

I, for one...

I'm going to miss him.

The dumb, horny bastard.

You gentlemen mind if I join you?

- Please, sit down.
- Thank you.

I'm Neil Agar, State Department of Security.

They didn't fly you all the way here for this,
did they?

Prof. Grubowsky was involved
in government research, wasn't he?

I know, but God almighty...

every time somebody gets a nose bleed
you guys run a security check.

Doing what you fellows do,
we kind of have to keep our eye out for you.

But you didn't watch Grubowsky
close enough, did you?

- You're...
- Herb Kline.

That's Strategic Alternatives.

Right.

Stan Williams, Genetics.

This is Aldo Ferrara...

Head of the Department of Diagnostics
and Clinical Biometrics.

- Glad to meet you.
- Thank you.

Listen, please forgive us.

Naturally, we're quite upset.

Jack was a very special man.

I see.

I take it, then,
he was a good friend of all of you?

Very good friends.

It should happen to me.

Who's the lady?

Ballantine's. On the rocks.

Dr. Susan Harris.

Runs the Comprehensive Entomological Lab
along with Dr. Norstad...

who heads the department.

It's all right. Let him get an eyeful of her,
'cause that's all he's going to get.

It's common knowledge.

Iceberg.

Remember, boys...

there's always the six-sevenths
below the surface.

If anyone can help you with Grubowsky's
preliminary-state-of-health bio...

Dr. Lyons can.

Good.

It's strange, he said he'd be here
in a few minutes.

Let's wait a few minutes.
I'm sure he'll be right back.

Hello.

- I didn't see you there.
- Thanks.

No, really, it's kind of dark out here.

You having some trouble?

Nothing you couldn't fix, Officer.

This may sound ridiculous...

but could it be some form of epidemic?

That's a very tough question to answer, Jim.

Each death is perfectly normal in itself.

What about a 21-year-old boy
that dies of thrombosis?

Isn't that just a little unusual?

True, but there's nothing else
we can attribute it to.

At least it showed up in our autopsy.

You keep talking about sexual exhaustion...

Harv didn't even have a history
of heart trouble.

- Neither did Dr. Lyons.
- Or Grubowsky.

I don't know what to tell you, Jim.
It's as much a mystery to me as it is to you.

Great.

I'm calling in the Public Health Service.

- Is that necessary?
- I don't think we have any choice.

We got two men dead at Brandt
in the last two days...

a little too much of a coincidence.

Keep me posted, will you, Peters?

Keep him posted.

I'd love to,
if I knew what the hell was doing it.

The meeting will come to order, please.

Thank you.

As you all probably know...

we've had eight deaths
in the last three days.

I've tried to compile a list
and fix the actual locations of the bodies...

where we found them.

Let me see, now. Pardon me.

There've been two scientists,
a policeman, a cannery worker...

a barber, a gas station attendant,
a real-estate broker...

and a grade school teacher.

You can see there doesn't seem
to be any occupational correlation involved.

But there are three points of uniformity
I would like to bring out...

and underline for you.

One, all the victims have been men.

Two, all the men
have been residents of Peckham...

and third, they've all died apparently...

I'd like to stress the word "apparently"...

by over-exhaustion
in the act of sexual intercourse.

I've asked Dr. Murger
to express his opinions to us...

because the possibility was thought
to exist...

that some virulent form
of venereal disease has been responsible.

Venereal disease, which,
as many of you are undoubtedly aware...

Louder.

Venereal disease, which,
as many of you are undoubtedly aware...

has swelled...

has swelled to epidemic proportions
in the United States...

and Western Europe.

Frankly, I have never come in contact with...

or heard of any form of venereal disease...

which could result in the types of deaths...

we've encountered here in Peckham.

However, I have a theory...

so complex and so puzzling...

that even to suggest it...

before I have the evidence...

Therefore, in the interim,
let me suggest a course of action...

that a curfew, possibly sundown, be set up.

Let me put it this way:

To civic, union and religious leaders
in this community...

I must stress the importance of total...

I repeat, total...

sexual abstinence.

Hold it. Now just hold it right there!

This is the stupidest damn thing
I've heard of yet.

Eight guys are dead from balling,
and you don't even know what's caused it.

I agree with Sam
that you guys over at Brandt what's done it.

One of your goddamn experiments
backfired on you, probably.

Let me tell you,
I ain't giving up what little pleasure I get...

from screwing my old lady,
or anybody else, for that matter.

If we have to listen
to some more crazy ideas, I'm leaving.

Just wait a minute.

Nobody is trying to legislate
or dictate your private morals.

Even if we wanted to I don't think we could.

All the man is doing is coming here
and expressing a few opinions...

on how maybe we could save our lives.
On that basis...

it isn't too much
to ask you to sit down and listen, is it?

You've got to be kidding.

What about that? Wants us not to have any.
You're kidding.

What're you gonna do
when you get home tonight?

What're you going to do? Crawl in?

Jeepers.

Excuse me, Stan.

Abstinence isn't going to be anything new
around here.

If I were positive it was going to kill you...

I'd do it.

Those queers over at Brandt
must think I'm nuts...

if they think I'll give an order like that
to our membership.

You tell them.

Being chairman of Local 723
may not mean a hell of a lot...

to those brains over at Brandt,
but at least I got some common sense.

That's right. Showed them tonight.

We've gone along with a lot
of dumb-ass ideas in the last couple years...

but this one takes the cake.

That's for sure.

Those guys freeze wages,
and we got to lie down and take it.

Damn it, they ain't going to freeze
anything else.

- You guys with me?
- We're with you all the way.

Okay, here. Prost!

Let's drink to it.

Mr. Braddock?

Yeah.

I'm Gretchen Grubowsky.
I believe you knew my late husband.

Mind if I walk with you?

We're a little early,
but this is where Murger said he'd meet us.

You know, Freud said the idea of dying
during or just after the sex act...

has an ambivalent appeal.

Men, for the most part, have a desire for it,
but on the other hand, they fear it.

It's true. There is such a thing
as psychosomatic death.

Let's say the first two deaths
really were genuine cardiac arrests.

Who knows what dormant erotic fantasies
that would stir up?

You know what we might have here?

Mass hysteria.

You don't really believe any of that, do you?

No.

I've never kissed a cop before.

What's that?

Let's take a look.

- Jesus, It's Dr. Murger.
- Oh, my God, they're killing him.

Call Peters.

- Are you all right?
- Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, babe.

Any luck?

You'll find a Plymouth, or what's left of it,
where the bridge's out on the old highway.

- Empty.
- Empty?

That makes nine.

Makes ten.

Ten?

Barney Braddock. We found him
with his pants around his ankles...

dead of a massive you-know-what.

All right.

Natives are getting restless.

I don't blame them.

Take some of your men
and find out whose car that was.

I already figured on doing that.

I know you government heroes
don't expect us local yokels...

to be able to do anything by ourselves,
but we get along all right.

Look I know you've got a job.
I got a job, too.

- Right.
- There are now three men dead at Brandt.

I'm trying to say I'm sorry
if I've been stepping on your toes.

All right, I'm sorry, too.

We're uptight.
You're uptight, I'm uptight, we're all uptight.

They're dropping like flies, Agar.

- Great thighs.
- It's got a motor.

Hello, Operator?

I want area code 202, State Department 415.

Let's go, Officers. Everybody, home.
Come on, it's all over.

Yes, call me back here.

Area code 805...

259...

9035.

That's right, 9035.

Thanks.

It looks like this is going to take a while.
Why don't you wait in the car?

- Where is it?
- In the lot right behind.

All right.

Be with you in a minute.

Hello.

Yes, Neil Agar here.

Mr. Secretary?

Yes, sir. I'm sorry to wake you up, sir.

You gals want to play rough, is that it?

- Get her.
- That's it. She's a cutie.

Don't fight it.

Yes, I know Murger's death
wasn't like the others...

but that doesn't necessarily
rule out a pattern.

Yes, I know, sir.

I don't know why,
but I'm sure it's connected with Brandt.

Get yourself some of that.

All right!

I recommend we put up a military quarantine
and cordon off this community.

Right, sir. Thank you, sir.

I'll keep you appraised
of any further developments.

Right. Good night, sir.

You managed to do me...

and there's two more fellas here
who want a crack at you.

Maybe they just might cut you open
and examine you as a medical phenomenon.

What do you think of that?

I'll get you, you son of a bitch!

I have a theory so complex...

and so puzzling...

I was in town tonight
when they found the body.

But when I got over the shock
all I could think of...

was all the letters he had from me.

The rest is history.

How'd you meet?

I drive a truck at the cannery.
We met at Herm's bar.

He used to come in there a lot
before we settled down.

Where were you tonight
when Murger was killed?

At Herm's, honest. I've got witnesses.

I was supposed to see Henry tonight,
but he telephoned and called it off.

I was angry. I was hurt.

So you went over to Herm's.

You don't have any idea
where Murger was tonight, none at all?

He wasn't with a man. He was with a girl.

I saw them as they drove through town
earlier this evening.

What did she look like?

I don't know, it was too dark.

She was driving his car,
that's all I could make out.

You're sure, Joe?

What the hell do you think made me notice
in the first place?

Tell me something, will you?

Could he make it with a woman?

No way.

- Hello.
- Mind if I join you?

Please.

- How are you, Dr. Harris?
- Susan will do.

Where is everybody?

Locked in their rooms, I shouldn't wonder...

being thrilled at the latest chapters
of the Phantom of the Rue Morgue.

And you?

I deal in principles of geometry.

Trigonometry, as in survey.

I'm afraid...

abstraction is more Dr. Williams' line,
not mine.

I seem to crave nothing but sweets of late.

That's too bad.

What's too bad about it, Herbert?

That's very bad for your appetite.

I was going to ask you...

if you would have dinner with me tonight.

I mean, if you're free.

I'm quite free, as a matter of fact.

You mean you will?

I must admit that since the curfew,
Peckham's been more boring than usual.

But I don't see why that should apply to us,
do you?

- No.
- As long as we're discreet.

- Yeah.
- Great.

Then I'll cook you up something
extra special.

No scuttlebutt around here?

There was a rumor about Julie and him.

It was just a rumor,
not that anyone took it seriously.

How well did you know Murger?

How well did anyone know Murger?

An introverted recluse. What can I tell you?

You going
to Grubowsky's funeral tomorrow?

He was a fine scientist.

That'll be the little woman. Call it ESP.

Hi, darling. See?

No, listen...

I've got a summary of recovery operations
tacked up on the board...

so I'm afraid I'm going to be nose down...

and ass up
for another couple of hours, so...

Curfew?

For God's sake, Nora,
you're an eternal pessimist.

Relax.

What should happen?

Listen, darling, I've got to run.

No, don't wait up, okay?

Yeah, tell me later.

I love you, too.

Domestic bliss, Mr. Agar.

They've got to know where you are
every second.

- Where are you off to?
- I'm meeting Julie Zorn.

Cute girl, if she'd only let her hair down.
Much too serious.

- Wish me luck.
- Good luck.

I'm about to explore the Antarctic
and see what's beneath all that ice.

There. Seems to be working all right.

Tell me again what it is you're looking for.

I don't know,
it's just something Peters said:

"They're dropping like flies".

It's just a long shot. Let's go.

Insects outnumber in species
all the rest of the animal kingdom.

Insects represent the highest grade
of evolution among invertebrate animals.

Not only in terms
of their complexity of structure...

but also in their psychic development.

- Do you mind if I smoke?
- I'm allergic to cigarette smoke.

- It's just a bad...
- Sure you wouldn't like some dessert?

No, I don't think so. I've got to watch my...

Just a taste?

- It's good.
- Another taste?

The visual organs of insects
consist of compound eyes.

The entire image an insect sees,
consequently, is a mosaic...

made up of as many units
as there are facets in the cornea.

Multiple vision occurs
throughout the entire insect world.

The complete metamorphosis
of the insect to its adult state...

occurs within the pupa.

Finally, the worker bees tear open
the milky-white pupa...

allowing the queen to emerge.

Here the queen has been marked
with a red spot.

The survival of a hive
depends upon a fertile queen.

Many queens are developed
until one can be made fertile.

During her lifetime,
the queen will lay up to 20 million eggs.

Examples of the female killing the male
during mating...

are numerous in the insect world.

Here the black widow awaits the arrival
of her mate...

and if the male, upon sexual contact,
is not extremely nimble, his fate is sealed.

The female praying mantis
not only kills the male upon mating...

but even proceeds to devour him.

Similarly, the queen bee mates in mid-flight.

That's all the material I have on hand.

- Yes?
- Mrs. Kline?

Yes?

Your husband is in grave danger.

He can't come to the phone,
but he needs you badly.

- Who is this?
- Just do exactly as I say...

or you won't ever see him alive again.
Do you understand?

Yes.

There's some sort of social pattern here,
but I just can't figure out what it is.

Prof. Norstad is head
of the entomological department here?

Yes, but he's away in Europe.
Susan Harris is acting head while he's gone.

I think I should have a talk with her.

Thank you. I want you to go on home.

- But...
- No buts. You've done enough for one day.

This is Neil Agar,
State Department of Security.

I'd like to speak to Dr. Harris,
if she's there, please.

This is Dr. Harris.
I'm sorry, but I'm very busy right now.

Would you please come back
during regular office hours?

No, it's quite important that I see you now.

All right, I'll be out in a moment.

Hello, Dr. Harris.

I have a few questions I'd like to ask you.

I'm afraid that's impossible.

We're in the middle
of a very important experiment.

We, Dr. Harris?

Dr. Norstad and I.

Then he's here?

He's in London,
at an entomological society convention.

I'm working from his notes.

I see.

Look, Mr. Agar...

I'll answer anything you like,
but be as brief as possible...

I'm in the middle of an experiment.

How many times does a queen bee mate?

Only once.

Just once?

And only to reproduce.

Once accomplished, she never mates again.

Thank you, Doctor.

Calm down, it'll be all right.

Take it easy. Calm down.

Come on.

You still able
to recognize him as Herb Kline?

Positively.

I'd better go tell his wife.
You feel like coming along?

No, you take care of it. I'll be at Brandt.

What's the trouble?

Military quarantine, sir.

- You mean I can't get through?
- Orders are to seal off the entire community.

I've got to chair a seminar
at UCLA this afternoon.

Sorry. Our orders were quite specific.
No one goes out or in.

This is ridiculous.
Who ordered this cordon?

The Secretary of State, sir.

- Capt. Peters.
- Mrs. Kline?

Yes, come in.

May I get you something? Coffee or juice?

No, thank you.

Actually, I've got some bad news
for you, Mrs. Kline.

At this hour of the morning?

That would be considered shameful.

- Sit down, at least.
- No, thanks.

Please.

Your husband is dead, Mrs. Kline.

Herb dead?

Yes, we found his body
at the factory this morning.

The coroner should be calling
in half an hour...

to ask you to identify the body.

If I don't seem shocked...

it's only because his passing
comes as no great surprise.

Dear Herb never was what you would call...

a cautious man.

I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news.

There's nothing else for me to do here...

I'd better be going.

No, wait.

Stay awhile.

Keep me company in my time of...

need.

Are you sure you won't change your mind?

If you give me a couple of hours,
I'll be able to do some research on...

Just the man I want to see.

Agar, what's with the SS troops?

It's beyond my control.

I've got to be at UCLA before 3:00.

- You're the only man I can...
- I'm sorry.

- I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it.
- Christ.

Aldo, talk some sense into him, will you?

- Herb's dead, Stan.
- What?

Like the others.

My God.

Agar, give me one good reason
why any one of us should stay in this place.

Calm down, Stan.

Just sit for a minute and listen.

You're the geneticist, aren't you?

- Can you cross a man and a horse?
- You're asking me?

Yes.

I told him you'd get a centaur,
mythologically speaking.

Realistically speaking,
you'd get a summons for bestiality.

Come on, Agar,
what's with the asinine questions?

Look, Williams, I'm serious.

What about controlled mutations?

We're not ready or able scientifically
to have the kind of controls necessary...

to alter the complex composition
of genes and chromosomes...

There are metatheoretical considerations
to examine.

With what we know now, it would still take
centuries of trial and error.

Can you accelerate the process artificially?

- Impossible.
- No, maybe.

Maybe the androgen
and estrogen hormones...

were artificially substituted
by androgynous hormones...

thereby rearranging the cellular structure...

Nobody's been able to do that before,
except maybe Norstad...

and his goddamned bees.

Right. Exactly right. Norstad and his bees.

I have a theory, and it's a wild one...

and I'm going to need your help to prove it.

I need some help.
Can one of you guys help me?

Come on.

- What's the matter?
- I lost my keys, I can't find them.

- Where at?
- Over there between those trees, I think.

You're clutching at straws, Agar.

That's not science, that's fiction.
You can count me out.

- Williams, don't be so damn rigid.
- Take my advice, Agar.

Go home. Lie down.
You're showing the strain.

There is an iota of credibility in your theory,
you know.

You mean you'll help me?

What do you want me to do?

Put all this in analysis form
so I can send it to the State Department.

- All right, I'll go home and put it on paper.
- How soon?

I'll rough out some notes and dictate it...

Elvira will type it up for you before dinner.

- It'll be ready.
- Great.

One other thing...

if this forced mutation...

on the energy level
that we're talking about, did occur...

it should be detectable...

by a photosensitive
gamma-count synthesizer.

What the hell is that?

It works like a camera.

Mutated cells are infiltrated with
a measurable degree of gamma radiation...

which registers
on a special photosensitive plate.

- Let's try it.
- Whatever you say.

And I heard a voice from heaven saying...

Write, Blessed are the dead
who die in the Lord from henceforth:

Yea, saith the Spirit...

that they may rest from their labors.
For their works follow with them.

Behold, I tell you a mystery...

but we shall all be changed. In a moment...

in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump:

For the trumpets shall sound,
and the dead shall be raised incorruptible...

and we shall be changed.

For we must all be made manifest...

before the judgment seat of Christ...

that each one may receive the things done
in the body...

according to what he hath done,
whether it be good or bad.

For we know that if the earthly house
of our tabernacle be dissolved...

we have a building from God,
a house not made with hands...

eternal in the heavens.

Inasmuch as it has pleased Almighty God...

to take from among us
our beloved brother...

we commit his body to the earth...

ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

awaiting the final resurrection of our Lord.

Now may the grace
of the Lord Jesus Christ...

the love of God,
and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit...

be with you and comfort you now
and forever more.

Amen.

Am I still not pretty?

Yes.

I know I've been a sexual bore,
but I'd like to make it up to you.

Could I still excite you?

You're part of it, you and the others.

What are you talking about?

Stop it.

Julie.

Dr. Harris.

I know what you've discovered...

and I'd like to explain.
It's really very simple.

I can only guess at the implications.
I don't think a simple explanation will do.

Perhaps not.

But come to my office...

and I promise you that what I show you,
you'll be more than satisfied.

You'll be safe.

After all, you're a woman.

Close breeding with other species
produces a superior being.

It's a well-known fact
that thousands of drones are produced...

for the express purpose of impregnation.
They are ultimately slaughtered.

Dr. Harris. What are you doing here?

I've wanted to talk to you alone
for some time now.

- Halt. Do you have identification?
- I have to get to Brandt.

There's a jeep
at the end of the line. Take that.

I've got to get out of here.

Somebody stop him.

What's going on there?

Don't let him get away. Stop him.

Stop where you are.

Hold it right there.

Stop him!

Stop.

Get out, or I'll pull this lever
and Julie will be dead.

Nobody moves.

But I still don't understand
what motivated them.

What Susan Harris didn't realize
was the radiation caused them to be sterile.

So they were endlessly driven
to repeat the mating cycle.

Goddamn. You got that?

Is she finished, Captain?

Why don't you both go get some shuteye?

I can wrap up things around here.

I'll take you home.

I hope I see you again some time.
As a tourist.

Susan Harris is a good example...

just stretching beyond
all the imagination of vanity...

to the point where the mind's functioning
like it's in a kind of plastic paradise...

where nothing can really exist.

It's, like, to relax, for instance.

I use self-hypnosis,
and I know the mind is like a computer.

If I tell myself I'll fall asleep
at a certain time, I do, no matter what.

And I wake up
and I tell myself positive things.

I mean, it's very simple to do...

because all you have to do is program...

I've really become a firm believer
in self-improvement.

After what happened to me the other night,
there's a perfect example...

I'm never going
to get caught off guard again.

I'm taking this course
to improve my body and my mind.

There's either kung fu, or karate, or tai chi...

and I will be able, in any given situation...

to take someone like you
and just flip you right over my shoulder.

Not fair, you caught me off guard.

What were you saying?

Shut up.