All language subtitles for fantasy_island_s03e09_nobody_s_there_-_the_dancer

Thank you.

Smiles, everyone.

Smiles.

Look at that king -size cowboy.

Who is he? The gentleman behind that big
smile is Mr. B .J. Farley, known to his

friends as Big Jake.

He's also a man after your own heart.

After? Mr. Farley is one of the world's
wealthiest men in uranium.

What is fantasy?

To win me all his money?

No, Tattoo, that is your fantasy.

Mr. Farley has journeyed all this way to
meet the woman whom he credits as the

inspiration for his success.

Her name is Miss Valeska DeMarco.

Valeska DeMarco? The prima ballerina?

Oh, she was the best dancer in the world
and she disappeared.

Eight years ago.

You see, Tattoo, just before Miss
DeMarco disappeared,

Mr. Farley, then a down -and -outer,
sneaked into a ballet house to avoid the

rain. Mr. Marco was on stage. Well, he
took one look at her and fell madly in

love. He decided then and there to make
something of himself so that he could

someday meet her as an equal.

Boss, you found her?

She's here on Fantasy Island?

Indeed she is, my friend.

And Mr.

Farley is not only going to meet her for
a tea I arranged this afternoon.

But he's also going to see her dance.

Boss, something tell me that the cowboy
and the lady are going to be like oil

and water.

Ah, Miss Betty Foster, the private
investigator who hails all the way from

Toledo, Ohio.

Hell, a private eye?

Boss, you must be kidding.

Oh, I'm quite serious, that too.

What a fantasy.

A rather modest one, my friend. She
simply wishes to crack her first big

Unfortunately, the rest of the world
refuses to cooperate.

What?

Yes, you see, Miss Foster was graduated
as a private detective more than a year

ago. And until now, no one has ever
trusted her to handle a case.

What school did she go to?

One of those correspondence schools. You
know, the kind that advertises on the

back of matchbook covers.

You're going to give an amateur like
that a real case to crack?

My dear guests, I am Mr. Rourke, your
host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

Okay, out with it, Mr. Rourke. I mean,
I've only been here four hours and

already you've transformed me into a...
A Contessa.

Something like that.

What's going on?

Patience, Miss Foster. The explanation
will be forthcoming shortly.

Yes, sir.

Contessa Cristina Castronova, may I
present Miss Betty Foster, the detective

discussed.

A bona fide Contessa.

Boy, it's a real honor to meet you, your
Contessaship.

Gee, I don't know whether to bow or to
kiss your hand or to shake it.

A simple handshake will do.

Have you filled Miss Foster in?

Not as yet, Contessa. Please sit down,
won't you?

Well, briefly.

Miss Foster, the Contessa is here for
the reading of her cousin's will.

Mr. Duncan Devereaux, the cousin,
mysteriously disappeared from aboard his

one year ago. The Contessa believes he
was murdered.

Really? Why?

Duncan was both an expert sailor and
swimmer.

Look, during a small shipboard party,
Duncan merely strolled out on deck.

He's never been seen since.

And you think someone on board that
yacht for the party killed him?

Yes. And my fantasy is to find out which
one.

With Mr. Rourke's help, everyone who was
at the party is here on the island for

the reading of the will.

I must interject at this moment that
both you ladies should realize that the

closer you get to finding the possible
murderer, the more your lives will be in

danger.

I can't turn back now.

And you, Miss Foster, do you still wish
to proceed?

Danger is my business.

Well, excuse me, the two.

Well, in that case, I had better explain
the rest of your transformation.

You see, while henceforth you will be
the Contessa, the Contessa will be your

private secretary.

But... If it's a reading of the will,
there'll be relatives there. I mean,

they know that I'm not her?

No, I don't think so. You see, I haven't
seen any of my relatives since I was a

child.

Well, I guess it'll work.

I guess my only question is, why do we
need the masquerade?

Yes.

Perhaps you'd better explain.

I received two letters warning me not to
show up.

Meaning the Contessa, or in this case
anyone, posing.

as the Contessa, is liable to meet the
same fate as her late cousin if she

up for the reading of the will.

Do you still wish to proceed, Miss
Foster?

Well, like I said, danger is my
business.

Hey, y 'all know Yellow Rose of Texas?

It goes something like that.

Oh, howdy, Mr. Roy. Hello, Mr. Farley.
Boy, I'm so nervous I could eat a horse.

Oh, there's no reason to be nervous.

Lorraine, huh? No.

Well, how do I look?

Kind of like a pink ribbon tied around a
prize hog. You look splendid, Mr.

Farley. You think so? Really splendid,
yes. You know, I don't count to being

something that I ain't.

But a fancy lady like Miss Valeska,
she's used to real gentlemen, you know.

please relax, Mr.

Farley, relax.

Yeah, sure.

Um...

Mr. Markle, may I introduce Mr.

B .J. Farley.

How do you do?

Well, have a pleasant interview.

Mr.

Rourke informs me you're from Texas.

Mm -hmm.

Is anything wrong, Mr. Farrell?

Mm -hmm.

Oh, no, ma 'am.

Good afternoon.

Isn't it a lovely day?

Yes, yes.

It's lovely.

Oh, excuse my manners, ma 'am.

How'd you like to get the load off your
feet, huh?

I got it.

I mean, have a seat.

Oh, yes, um, thank you.

You're welcome, ma 'am.

What's your pleasure, ma 'am?

Tea or champagne?

But I got liquor, too, if you like a
real snort.

Oh, well, I'll tell you, I could use a
little champagne, thanks.

Excuse me, sir.

Hey, fill her up, partner.

Little lady and me's mighty thirsty.

I think he wants you to sample it first.

Oh, yeah, right.

Say, that's good stuff.

Hey, let me see that.

Dom Perganon, 1957.

Ain't you got anything to press your
partner?

Um, here.

Leave the jug.

We'll summon you if we need you.

Yes, sir.

Mr. Farley, I really do want to thank
you for being my patron.

Mr. Rourke has explained to me how you
invited the six top dance critics to

watch me perform. I'm very appreciative.

Think nothing of it, ma 'am. I'd invited
600 if that's what it took to see you

dance.

You're very kind and optimistic.

Eight years is a long time.

I hope I don't disappoint you.

Ma 'am, there ain't no way in this world
you could disappoint me.

Say, tell me.

I hope you don't mind if I get a mite
personal, but how come no feller ever

along and hogtied you?

I mean, how come a lovely lady like
yourself ain't hitched?

Or married?

Well, my life has been devoted to dance.

There really hasn't been time for
anything else.

We got us a saying down in Big D.

Yeah? That if a gal waits too long for
her knight in shining armor to come

riding by, she's just liable to have to
clean up after the horse.

I'll tell you something, Mr. Farley.

I really do enjoy your company. It's so
relaxing.

Thank you, ma 'am.

Yes.

Oh,

yes.

Goodbye for now, Mr. Farley.

And, uh, thanks.

Hey, just call me Big Jake.

All my friends do.

Here we are, ladies.

I hope I can pass with the Contessa, and
the Contessa passes my secretary.

Don't worry. It will be a piece of cake.

What a creepy place.

Yes. However, Mr. Devereaux's will
stipulates that he'd be read here at

Blackcliffe Manor precisely one year to
the day of his unfortunate demise.

Cousin Duncan used to say that
Blackcliffe Manor was haunted.

He was kidding, I hope. I hope that's
him.

Well, the truth.

What a whack -a -mole.

Ah, Mr. Rourke.

And which of you two ladies is cousin
Christina?

I am.

Charmed.

I'm cousin Nicky.

They say we used to play together as
children.

Yes, that's right.

Before black became beautiful, I was the
black sheep of the family. Don't know

where that leaves me now.

Who's she?

That is my private secretary, Cece Lois.

Follow me and I'll introduce you to the
others who were just having a drink when

you arrived.

Lady and gentlemen, it's a great
pleasure for me to introduce you to

Christina on my immediate left and her
private secretary, Lois.

Christina, this is Cousin Sylvia.

Next to her we have Samuel Blade,
Duncan's former business partner.

And last but not least, we have Mr.
Algernon.

Pepperhill. Cousin Duncan's lawyer, and
now executor to his estate.

Hi, everybody.

What I mean is, how nice to see you all.

A drink, Cousin Christina?

Or should I address you as Contessa?

Christina will suit me just fine. And as
for the drink... No, thanks.

It has been a very long journey for our
two ladies. I suggest they repair to

their rooms and freshen up.

Contessa, Miss Smith, may I show you the
way, please?

I don't like this place.

Yes, it is rather eerie, isn't it?

Now that we took care of the ladies, why
don't we get out of here? Oh, no, no,

no, no, Tatu. One of us must remain and
look after our guests.

I nominate you.

Oh, come, come, Tatu. There is nothing
to fear.

I would stay myself, but you know that's
impossible with all my other

obligations.

However, if you should need me, there is
always a telephone.

Right, boss, right.

Well, I guess you're right. There's
nothing to fear.

Nothing.

And besides, Betty and the compressor
may need me.

Thank you, the truth.

Your devotion to duty is exceeded only
by your bravery.

Ah, lovely old place.

Lovely.

Boss. Boss.

Lovely place, honey.

Lovely.

Mr. Rourke?

Oh, Mr. Rourke?

Mr. Rourke? Yes, yes.

Oh, boy, was I a calamity.

About as refined as a nearsighted
buzzard at a church social.

Oh, calm yourself, Mr. Farley.

No, no, please, please, please, calm
yourself.

Now, what is this you're talking about?

The tea with Miss Valeska?

Yes.

I poured champagne all over everything.

Made a real clown out of myself.

Oh, come now, Mr. Farley, I'm sure it
wasn't as bad as all that.

It wasn't, huh?

No, as a matter of fact, I just spoke
with Miss DeMarco on the phone, and she

told me that your meeting was most
enjoyable.

She did?

Yeah, she did.

Really?

Really.

Then maybe I didn't hurt my chances any
worse than they already were.

Chances?

Look, Mr. Rourke, I know Miss Volevka
and me is about as much alike as a blue

jay and a crow, but I'm still going to
try.

Try?

I love that little lady, Mr. Rourke.

I got my stetson set on marrying her.

Now, wait.

Oh, wait, Mr. Farley. You didn't tell me
that marrying Mr. Markle was your

fantasy.

I'm sorry, Mr. Rourke.

But it's been my whole fantasy ever
since I first laid eyes on her.

And there ain't nobody or nothing gonna
keep me from marrying up with her, Mr.

Rourke.

Nobody.

It's no good.

I'm sloppy.

I'm terrible.

You're simply too tired. You have been
rehearsing a great deal. No, it's my

legs. They're no good. It was too long.

With a talent like yours, nothing is
ever too long.

I am an athlete.

My muscles are supposed to be musical
instruments.

Shall we go back to work?

No.

Oh, Valeska DeMarco, a quitter.

I don't believe it.

I have no choice.

Well, face reality, Valeska.

Eight years have gone by.

Your savings, they've run out.

I wish to God I had the money to give
you.

I don't take charity.

You'll soon be forced to, unless you
buckle down to dancing.

Selena, you have just seen me.

I can't do it.

For your very own sake, my dear friend.

the entire will of this time.

I think I'll just summarize it.

That is, if there are no objections.

Very well, then.

Simply put, Duncan and Devereaux left an
estate of ten million dollars to be

divided equally among the four of you.

The will also stipulates that should any
of the beneficiaries die before

probate, then the dead person's portion
is to be divided among the survivors.

Well, then, and I'm speaking
theoretically, of course, if

there's only one survivor at the time of
probate, the entire ten

million goes to him or her.

But, of course,

such an eventuality will never come to
pass.

You mean foul play from one of us? I
mean, after all, we're a loving family,

right?

Right.

Certainly.

Positively.

Of course.

The window. Somebody give me a hand. I
wish I'd stayed at home.

Everybody stay calm.

It'll work.

Let's find some candles.

I'll look upstairs.

I'm coming with you. Let's check in the
library.

I've got to find a phone. I've got to go
to the bus.

We'll go find some candles.

It's so dark in here, I'm blind as a
bat.

The phone must be somewhere here.

Hey, I found some matches.

What was that? Who is here?

It's only me.

I have some good news.

Bad news.

What's the good news?

The good news is I found the phone.

The bad news is the wire's been cut.

I'm going to go get the boss.

The will is gone.

Open it.

Todd! What are you doing here in the
island?

Well, I've just been following you
around.

What else is new?

Here you go.

It's lovely.

Valeska, why don't you give up this pipe
dream, this comeback?

Marry me. We can be back in Boston in
time for the opening of the Todd

Art Museum.

Remember that Renoir collection that I
was trying to buy?

I've got it.

Am I the next?

I hope so.

I've been trying to get you to marry me
for years.

Say yes.

We can be out of here in an hour.

Oh, always the same.

Man's falling madly in love with her.

Todd has been following her for years.
And now that cowboy.

Big Jake is a man of many qualities.

What difference does it make?

Unless there's only one love.

The dance.

And if she fails tomorrow, what then?

What happens to a butterfly when you
pull off its wings?

She will die inside.

And she'll end up marrying Todd.

But it won't matter.

If she fails tomorrow, they will kill
her inside.

Well, we do seem to have a killer
amongst us.

The question is, who?

Why doesn't someone call the police?

And in this storm, nobody can make it
down the cliff for help.

Let's face it, folks.

We're stuck.

The Countess is right.

I suggest we all retire to our rooms and
lock the doors until morning.

Hopefully the storm will pass by then.

Good night.

Guess he's right.

Wait for me, Nick.

A killer on the loose and they're going
to bed.

Where are we going?

To lock the Contessa in her room and
then have a look around.

Well, with mayhem in the air, I just
might need an equalizer.

What's wrong?

My gun!

I had it in my purse.

Somebody must have stolen it.

I'm some kind of detective.

I even get my own gun ripped off.

Don't worry.

You still have me.

Thanks, Tattoo.

Gee, I guess I'm blowing it.

All my life I wanted to be a detective.

I was a real Nancy Drew freak. I read
every one of her books at least six

And I did so much to prepare myself.

I even took karate lessons.

You know karate?

First in my class.

What am I going to do, Tattoo?

Well, I first find the will, and then
you get your killer.

That's ridiculous.

Why? Because I've got the will.

I glommed onto it when the lights went
out.

What for?

To read.

Always check the fine print. That's
chapter three of my correspondence

You better get some sleep.

Good night.

I must be here somewhere.

Just though y 'all got choice seats, I
bought out this entire performance.

So, you know, just kind of spread out
and looked like a crowd.

Hey, you there.

I didn't see you come in here.

Let's see your ticket.

I... I don't have a ticket.

Then you'll have to leave.

Oh, please let me stay. I just have to
see Velazquez de Marco.

My dance teacher says Mr. Marco's the
greatest since Pavlova.

Out. Hey, let go of her, partner.

I bought out this entire shoot match,
and she stays.

Hey, come on.

Come on, partner. Mosey, on out of here.

Thank you, mister.

You're welcome, ma 'am.

Mind if I join you?

Aliska, get up.

You must get up.

I can't do it anymore. I can't.

Good morning, Contessa.

I made some coffee. Would you care for
some? No, thanks.

Where is everybody?

Oh, that's a good question.

Pepperhill has met his maker, of course.

But now it seems that dear Sylvia has
disappeared.

Disappeared? Also, Sam Blade is missing.

He went out last night to check the road
conditions and hasn't come back.

At least he's nowhere in the manor.

I'll go outside and have a little look
for him.

As soon as I finish my coffee.

Hmm.

Come. Hold that.

Oh, um, where is your friend, uh, Miss,
uh... Smith.

She's, uh, she's in her room.

Smith.

Surely you could have thought up a more
original alias than that.

What do you mean?

What I mean is that you're no more the
Contessa than I'm a choir boy.

You're wrong.

My name is... I assume that your friend,
Lois Smith, is my real cousin?

I, uh... I don't know what you're
talking about.

Stop lying, my dear.

You're too nice and too normal to be a
part of this family.

Who are you?

You're, uh... You're afraid of me,
aren't you?

Well, that's understandable, but you
really have no reason to be.

I think I'd better go outside and see if
I can find Blade.

You take care now.

It'd be a shame if anything happened to
you.

Sylvia's missing.

What? And Mr. Blade's missing, too. And
Nicky Deverell knows who you really are.

He says we don't have to be afraid of
him, and he's really kind of nice, but I

don't trust him. I don't trust anybody
in this creepy place.

Give me your hand.

Contessa?

No, it's crazy. She can't have vanished
into thin air.

What's happening here? Where is
everybody?

Where have they all gone?

I don't know, but I think we should go
before we're gone, too. No, Tattoo, we

can't. I'll never be a private eye if I
run away from my first case.

Follow me.

Where to?

Contessa!

What are you doing in there?

Turn around and you'll find out.

You?

You weren't supposed to be dead.

A ruse, my little friend.

I faked my own murder so I could be free
to imprison the real Contessa.

Mr. Blade, Miss Devereaux and her
brother.

That's my gun you have.

What are you going to do with that?

First, I'm going to cage you up with the
others.

Second, you see that door there?

It holds back the sea.

When I open it at high tide, this entire
chamber will be flooded.

And when the tide recedes, I'll make
sure your bodies are washed out to sea

lost forever.

Just as Duncan Devereaux's body was when
I pushed him off his yacht.

Move it.

Just in case you're interested, Mr.
Pepperhill, I know why you're doing

Really?

Well, let's hear your theory.

It's not a theory. It's fact.

I read the will last night. All of the
fine print.

So you're the one who stole the will?

There's a special proviso. If all of the
heirs are dead, the entire estate goes

to his faithful friend, lawyer, and
business manager.

Namely me.

Mr. Pepperhill, I arrest you for the
murder of Duncan Devereaux.

Stand back, Arosa.

Be careful, Betty.

Go ahead and shoot. That gun is loaded
with blanks.

There's just got to be something I can
do for her, Mr. Rourke.

No, no one can help her dance again, as
you once could.

But I just can't let her run off with
that there Todd feller.

She'll want to see, threaten her heart
out. Do you have any specific plan in

mind, Mr. Farley?

No.

Then perhaps you would consider entering
into a slight conspiracy with me.

You just show me the way, partner.

We have a plane to catch. Now get that
thing out of the road. What's it doing

there? We can't.

Sorry about that, fella.

I'm sorry, Mr. Sinclair. It's part of a
guest's fantasy. A middle -aged man who

was for death during the war and wants
to be a hero. I'm terribly sorry.

We are out of gas.

You better call the tank club.

That music?

Yes. That ballet was written for me.

Who could be using my music?

Well, why don't you go inside and find
out for yourself?

That girl, she was at the performance
yesterday.

Very good for a child.

Yes.

Tighten your passe.

Tighten them.

No, don't look down.

Your audience is out here.

You're shifting your center of weight.

No, continue.

Continue.

Your spotting interns are quite good.

But you're drooping your elbows.

No, no, no. More extension.

Yep. This is where you belong now.

Lady, ain't you got any idea how much
dance savvy you've got stored up inside

that pretty little head of yours?

Well, you've got to share it with young
'uns like the girl there.

You mean teach?

No, I couldn't.

What in tarnation do you think you've
been doing just now?

Well, I just didn't want to see such a
talented child make mistakes like that.

That is what teaching is all about.

Look, you could open your own school.

I'll build you a whole string of
schools, if that's what you want.

Why would you do that for me?

Well, you see, all these years I've been
mooning about some fantasy girl.

I've been chasing rainbows, you know,
and I didn't know whether she was a

or real.

Now I know.

She sure is real.

Valeska, my dear.

We have to catch that plane.

Excuse me, ma 'am.

Big Dave, don't!

Go find your own parade.

Hang it all, ma 'am.

Can't you see I'm through pussy -putting
around with words?

I want to herd you back to Big D on my
arm.

I'm asking you to marry me.

Well, do you own a Renoir or a Picasso?

No, ma 'am, but I got me three cabs and
a Mercedes.

Oh.

Oh, don't ever stop working, my dear.

If you want to be a dancer, you've got
to work hard.

Now, where did you say this Big D was?

Just a mite south of heaven, ma 'am.

Thank you so much.

Pleasure. Thank you.

Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye.

Well,

Mr. Rourke, I guess I'm not cut out to
be a detective.

Perhaps you're being too hard on
yourself.

No, I'm not. I mean, when a girl can't
even hold on to her own gun, it's time

hang it up.

But at least I can get my old job back.

And what is your old job?

I was a counter girl in the fast food
franchise called Hippity Hot Dog.

Well, isn't that a coincidence?

You know, my brother Duncan was majority
stockholder in Hippity Hot Dog.

He was?

Well, that's right.

And I'll be taking the company over now.
You know, the trouble is, I need

someone with experience to help me learn
the ropes.

Would you be interested?

Well... We could talk it over in the
air.

Okay.

Well, where are the two of you headed,
if I may ask?

To eat and plumb.

Eat and plumb?

Yes, about eight miles outside of
Dallas.

And plumb into the most beautiful
countryside you have ever laid your eyes

Goodbye, madame.

Thanks,

Mr. Rourke, for making my fantasy last
the rest of my life.

You know something?

You're a good old boy.

Thank you, Mr. Farley.

See you later, tattoo.

Bye.