All language subtitles for my_favorite_martian_s02e19_uncle_martin_and_the_identified_flying_object

Uncle Martin, I can't reach it.

Uncle Martin!

Shh, Tim.

I'm trying to hear the dawn.

Hear the dawn?

I thought you were supposed to see it.

That's right.

But on one of my early trips to your
planet, I recall my old friend, Rudyard

Kipling, saying that it came up like
thunder out of China, across the bay.

And did it?

I didn't wait to find out.

You see, there was a report around that
I was an unidentified falling star.

Oh, well, you should have been in
Hollywood. There's a lot of those here.

Look, can you raise me up a couple more
feet?

With consummate pleasure.

Uncle Martin!

I'm sorry, Tim.

I just wanted to give my levitation
finger a momentary respite.

This overexposure to your heavy pre
-dawn atmosphere.

Well, it's like running one's finger
through richly whipped cream.

Well, would you mind licking the cream
off of your finger and lifting me back

up? I would like to get this antenna
finished once and for all.

All right.

Hey, come on now.

Come on, stop plodding around.

Tim, I can't help it. My levitation
finger.

It's oxygenated from too much of the
sun's rays.

I can't control it. It's out of whack.

Well, get it away from me.

I can't, Tim.

This kind of artificial stimulation
that's falling upon my levitating finger

produces an electrical effect by
knocking out the free electron.

Oh, that's just great. What do I do?
Call the insurance company and tell them

come on over? Our place is being
destroyed by a finger with a California

I thought it looked more like the south
of Venus.

Here.

Martin,

will you please do something? Something.

What would you like for me to do?

Shove it outside.

If I can, it would only absorb more
light, Ray.

Well, it's not exactly the shade of the
old apple tree, but... Nevertheless,

better an ill breath than no breath at
all.

Well, good morning. I finally got the
place all cleaned up.

Look, you've been standing out here like
this for over a half an hour.

Patience, Tim. It could be days, weeks,
even months.

Well, you can't just stand out here like
this.

Tim, I'm trying to comprehend some way
of resolving this problem as rapidly as

can. Uncle Martin, I have great
confidence in your abilities, but until

come up with something, couldn't you run
up the old antennas and disappear

before you become a tourist attraction?

An excellent thought.

It's no use, Tim.

There's a malfunction in my antenna
booster.

I can't disappear.

Perhaps I'd better go back inside.

Oh, no, you don't. You would have that
place looking like the last days of

Pompeii in ten minutes.

Just what would you like me to do? One
doesn't cast off one's finger like an

shoe. Dr. Martin, I am just a simple,
ignorant Earthman.

Now, when something goes wrong with me,
I take an aspirin.

Of course.

Why didn't I think of that?

A temporary relief measure.

Huh? A compound of antiseizium and
selenium. It would act as a sedative.

Oh, sort of a Martian Mickey pin for the
finger, huh?

Exactly.

Okay, well, I'll get some.

Where in this primitive world of mine
would I find antisys... antisemis...

you said?

Try the medicine chest in the bathroom.
Second shelf to the right.

Oh.

Hello, Mr. Benson.

347 Palm Court.

Yeah, right, sir.

Yeah, I've got it. I'll get on as soon
as I can. Right, right, sir.

Oh, boy.

Uncle Martin, my editor, Mr. Benson,
just called. Some kooky lady called the

police department and said the house was
haunted. Things are flying all over the

house. I don't know.

347 Palm Court.

347 Palm Court?

Oh, no.

Here,

drink it quickly.

You sure this is going to work?

It'll only give me a short respite, but
it's better than nothing.

Well, how's it look?

Well, aside from a slight hangnail, it
looks pretty good.

Well, here goes.

It worked, Tim.

My finger's completely knocked out. Oh,
boy.

Well, I've had my feet fall asleep from
time to time, but this is a new one.

We're going to have a visitor. Mrs.
Brown.

Tim, Martin, it's me, Laura Lee.

Oh, thank heavens you're here. Martin,
you'll never believe it. You will never

believe it. There are all sorts of
things flying around my house.

Things?

maybe it was one of those wingback jobs.

Oh, Tim, how can you joke at a time like
this? Now, now, Laura Lee, calm down

and sit down. Oh, this was the most
frightening experience I've ever had.

The police just left. They couldn't find
anything.

Score one for our side.

Oh, excuse me.

Yes,

hello. I'm sure there's a logical
explanation for all of this, Laura Lee.

It was probably just a slight earth
tremor.

They've been known to create strange
phenomena.

Oh, really? Do you think that's all
there was to it, Martin? I'm sure.

Well, yes, Mr. Benson, but you see, the
police haven't found the reason the

things are floating around.

Well, of course I know ghost stories
sell newspapers.

You're sending who?

Whom?

But, but, Mr.

Benson... Yes,

sir, I'll be there to meet him.

Yes, goodbye, sir.

Mrs. Brown, you'd better go downstairs.
You're expecting a visitor.

Oh, really?

Who is it, Tim?

He is a man who will search every inch
of this place until he finds a solution.

Professor F .P. Clemens of Fluke
University's Department of Psychic

Oh, that's nice.

The Department of Psychic Phenomena?

Oh, my.

Oh, my.

Uncle Martin, he's here.

I know.

And we're going to have to get rid of
him as fast as we can.

There's no telling how soon the anti
-cesium and selenium compound will wear

off. My uncle, the walking time bomb.

Well, I don't particularly relish the
description, but I'm afraid I must not

only concur, but add on a short fuse as
well.

Oh, brother. And you expect to get rid
of Professor F .P. Clemens as easily as

that, huh?

Look, once he starts on a project,
there's no pulling him off of it. He'll

us under a microscope before you know
it. And with my spaceship in the garage,

that's exactly what we cannot permit.

Oh, the spaceship I forgot.

Well, don't just stand there.

Go hide it in the cloud somewhere.

That would be quite impossible.

As primitive as the professor's earthly
equipment might be, by Martian

standards, he'd detect my ship the
moment I tried to move it.

Well, don't turn on the motor.

You know, just wave your finger and
levitate it out of here.

It's taking a cat nap, remember?

Oh, yeah, that's right.

It's never awake when you need it.

Mr. Martin, why couldn't you come down
with something simple, like Berry Berry?

I'm sorry, Mr. Martin, but until I can
formulate some alternate plan of action,

you will have to go down there and
engage him by audio.

Huh? Well, in your earthly lingo, play
it by ear.

I'm telling you, Professor, you're just
wasting your time.

Mr. O 'Hara, for the past 15 minutes,
you have elucidated every conceivable

reason why I shouldn't waste my time
making these tests.

Now, if you're quite through, may I

continue wasting my time?

Professor, I mean, a man of your
scientific stature, I don't want to see

spend all of your time on such an
inconsequential little thing.

Ah, but O 'Hara, it's the little things
that lead to the big discoveries.

The magnitude of atomic power began with
a tiny, tiny atom pot.

Who knows what earth -shattering
discovery lies right under our very

Yes. Who knows?

That's why my motto is seek and you
shall find the answer to every problem.

Every pot has its cover, you know.

Yes, but a watch pot never boils,
Professor.

Oh, sick! How about, shoemaker, stick to
your last?

That's what my mother always used to
say.

Please. I am to find the reason for this
disturbance.

Oh, well, Tim's Uncle Martin explained
the reason, Professor.

Oh, he did.

Another Einstein, huh?

No, no, not Einstein.

O 'Hara.

The Einsteins live in the next block.

You see, Martin lives upstairs with Tim,
and Martin said it was due to an earth

tremor, didn't he?

Oh, yes. Well, you know California,
Professor. A little tremor here, a

tremor there. Why, we're living on top
of a cha -cha -cha.

Mr. O 'Hara, it so happens that this
area is built on solid rock.

It's as immovable as a mountain.

That sure sounds like an earth tremor to
me.

We shall soon find out if it is.

Where there's smoke, you know.

Somebody's cooking, and I think it's my
Uncle Martin.

Uncle

Martin,

what happened? It felt like an
earthquake.

That's good.

Oh, it was.

Fortunately, not a very serious one, but
a quake nevertheless.

Oh, well, for a minute there, I thought
it was that finger of yours again.

I'm afraid it was my finger, Tim.

The anti -cesium -selenium compound may
deaden it temporarily, but in confining

the electrons, the power buildup is
magnifying itself.

Naturally, when the compound wears off,
the escaping force... Could cause an

earthquake? Or worse. It could even
knock your planet out of orbit.

Although an electron is one 1837th of a
proton, the M and N shells... Uncle

Martin, please don't talk to me in
shorthand.

What does it mean?

It means I have to fly my ship out and
get as far away from your planet as

possible before my finger goes off
again.

Plan to leave as soon as it gets dark.

Didn't you say that the professor could
detect your ship the minute you tried to

move it? True, but it's a risk I'll have
to take if your world is to be saved.

That was mine.

You mean that that finger could actually
end the world?

I believe Eve needed only one little
apple to get it going.

How soon do you think you'll be able to
come back?

A good question, Tim.

That is, if I'm able to get back at all.

Do you mean that...

You and your ship could go pow?

More like schwop.

Well, Uncle Martin, you can't go schwop.

Better I go schwop than everyone go pow.

Well, you can't. I mean, well, all
right, so you're 400 years old, but you

have a whole lifetime ahead of you.

And besides, we were just getting to
know each other.

Or, you know, I mean, you've been
helping me and teaching me things.

And you've taught me a few things as
well, Tim.

But I'm afraid, as someone once put it,
this is bigger than both of us.

Tim, Tim, I can't hold on to anything.

What happened? I've sprung a leak.

Some of the excess free electrons are
trickling out of my fingers.

Well, can't you, can't you plug it up?
I'm afraid not, at least. Not the way

normally would, a leaky pipe.

Wait a minute. I could reduce the
overload by passing on the overabundance

free electrons to a weaker source.

Tim. Grab hold of my hand, quickly.

Me? You mean... You're the nearest
weakest source available. Now, don't

The extra electrons won't affect you.

There.

It worked.

How long do we have to stay this way?

We'll have to remain joined until I can
take off in my ship. Now, come on and

help me pack. My shoes and suits are in
the closet, Ben.

Jim, Mrs. Brown and the professor are
coming up the stairs.

In the living room.

Hold your hand and just stand opposite
me. Now just do as I say.

Yoo -hoo, Martin Tin.

Come in, Laura Lee.

What in the world are you doing?

We're, uh... Hand rustling?

Yes.

We're trying to do our part in the
National Keep and Trim Program.

Oh, well, now that's very patriotic of
you.

Isn't it, Professor?

Oh, yes.

Yes. Now could I get the key?

Oh, I almost forgot.

The Professor would like the key to the
garage.

Garage?

Yes, he wants to make a thorough search
of the premises.

Oh, he does?

I mean, he does?

Oh, now, that's strange, but I can't
seem to find my key. Key? I can't seem

find mine either.

Perhaps if you let go of each other's
hand, you could check your pockets a

little more carefully.

Let go?

Oh, we couldn't do that. Could we, Uncle
Mike? Oh, good heavens, no, no. We'd

lose the grip. And once you change your
grip in Indian wrestling, it's an

entirely different match.

Oh, well, don't worry, Martin. I'll hold
your grip for you. Oh, no, no, no.

Thank you, Orly. Thank you. It wouldn't
be the same.

Besides, I just remembered. I sent my
key out to have a duplicate made. Hmm.

Yes, yes. I sent mine out to have a
duplicate made, too, so that if he lost

duplicate, he could borrow my duplicate.

I get the distinct feeling the two
gentlemen are trying to conceal

from me in the garage.

Oh, nonsense, Professor. If anything, we
desire to cooperate with you to the

fullest extent.

I assure you, my nephew will get the key
and open the garage for you the first

thing tomorrow. First thing tomorrow.

Very well.

First thing tomorrow.

See you tomorrow, Loralee.

Oh, I'm not going back to that house of
mine until this is all over. I'm staying

right here.

Even if I have to curl up and sleep in
this chair.

Uncle Martin, you are a genius.

Nonsense, my boy. It's simply my normal
superior Martian intellect.

Loralee asleep in the living room, I had
to devise some excuse.

If she wakes up and sees you tiptoeing
past her this way, she'll merely think

you're sleepwalking.

Here we go.

And be careful, Tim. I may be a Martian,
but I don't have eyes in the back of my

head.

You stepped on my foot.

Sorry. For goodness sake, Tim. Watch it.

I didn't know you were so close.

You better move aside so I can open this
door.

All right, easy now, easy.

Now watch out for the stairs.

Garrett, look out. You're knocking me
off my back.

Martin.

Martin.

and hold onto my hand.

Uncle Martin, look, I'm really sorry
about dropping you down the stairs. I

I didn't mean to.

Don't cry over spilled milk.

There's enough water in it already.

Just hurry.

Martin!

Tim, what happened? Oh, well, you see,
Mrs. Brown, Uncle Martin tripped.

What are you doing out at this time of
night?

Huh.

Still, uh, hand wrestling?

Of course not.

Well, what were you two doing out here
catching your death of cold?

Oh, well, we, uh, uh, came out to... to
watch the dawn come up.

At 11 o 'clock at night?

I'd like to get an early start.

Well, what Tim means, Professor, is that
we thought we'd taken the stars, you

know, and studied them and watched them
disappear.

Why, Martin, I didn't know you and Tim
were interested in the stars.

Oh, yes, Laura Lee, we're very
interested in the heavenly bodies.

Oh, really?

Which one?

I mean, which heavenly body are you
studying tonight?

Oh, uh, uh, that one.

Stars?

When it's cloudy and going to rain?

You're very strange about all that.

Well, uh, whatever do you mean,
Professor?

Those sounds, they're coming from my
house again.

Oh, brother, we're dead now.

On the contrary, Tim, everything's under
control.

But your hand, Mrs. Brown's house. I
know. I did it purposely to get them

inside. You mean your finger's not out
of whack anymore?

When I pointed it towards the sky, that
produced the lightning, which in turn

reduced the electrical count in my
finger, bringing it back to normal.

Oh.

Then you won't go schwop?

Nope.

Uncle Martin, if I wasn't a grown man, I
think I'd cry.

Thank you, Tim, for your heartfelt
concern.

But time is of the essence.

We still have to put Laura Lee's mind at
ease and solve the professor's problem.

The professor's problem?

Mm -hmm. If we're ever going to get him
to leave, we're going to have to satisfy

him with some sort of scientific
explanation.

Well, let's hope it isn't a friendly
Martian.

My electrical discharge gave me an idea.

I'm going to have the good professor
discover ball lightning.

Ball lightning?

You're putting me on. On the contrary.

It's been a scientific theory here on
your Earth for some time.

A rare form of lightning known to lift
weights, dive down chimneys.

Now, let's see.

It should be approximately 25
centimeters in diameter and singly

and round it goes and it comes out here.

Now, to get it inside the house.

Shall we join the others?

my mind, one would think the place was
struck by lightning.

I don't believe it.

I just don't believe it.

What is it, Professor? Some sort of an
electrical charge?

Yes, but what it looks like, I don't
believe exists. There's no such thing as

ball lightning.

You mean that's what's been causing all
the damage?

But ball lightning is only a theory.

Give it a look out, Professor.

Here comes that theory after you.

Yes, I think so.

You know, for 30 years, every night when
I come home, my wife says, what's new?