All language subtitles for fantasy_island_s04e06_jack_the_ripper_-_gigolo

Good morning, Mark. Good morning.

Smiles, everyone.

Smile.

Oh, boy. Here comes the real wimp.

I am not positive what you mean by the
word wimp.

But if it indicates total inadequacy in
dealing with members of the female sex,

then yes.

Mrs. Stanley Hocker of Steubenville,
Ohio, is indeed a... What is that?

Wimp. A wimp.

What's his fantasy book?

Mr. Hocker wishes to transform his
blushes, fumbles, and stumbles into what

considers to be the ultimate figure of
male dominance. His fantasy is to be a

gigolo.

Good luck, boss.

Yes, yes.

It's fun to see me.

Maybe somewhat of a challenge.

Miss Lorraine Peters, a very successful
attorney and criminologist.

Criminologist? And the gentleman with
her is Mr. Robert West, her law partner.

She's a lawyer?

What a way.

Miss Peters has evolved a theory which
she believes solves the identity of the

infamous Whitechapel murderer.

You mean Dr.

Reaper?

Precisely, Tattoo.

Her fantasy is to go back in time to
London of 1888 so she can prove her

in order to incorporate it in a book
she's writing on the subject.

But what?

She could end up to be one of his
victims.

That thought has occurred to me also,
Tattoo.

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

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

Please, sit down, Harker.

You know, it's quite normal for
inexperienced men to be apprehensive

meeting women.

Perhaps you could solve your problem by
simply learning to relax.

To trust your natural personality.

What personality?

In school, my class voted me the man
most likely to be forgotten.

Now, Mr. Rourke, let's face it. The only
way I'm going to make out with the

girls is with your help.

Very well, Mr. Harker.

This is a very rare painting of an 18th
century nobleman known to the world as

Don Juan.

The world's greatest lover.

Yes.

Some say that his romantic power was
derived by magic through an ancient

gold bracelet forged by a sorcerer whose
name is lost in the mists of legend.

This bracelet?

In the painting?

No, Mr. Harker.

The bracelet...

On your wrist.

Please notice the delicacy, the
intricacy of the design.

Then it's the same?

With the same power, Mr. Harker. You are
now eminently qualified to attract

women in profusion.

Is that all there is to it? Just the
bracelet?

Look in the mirror.

I'm not a turkey anymore.

I'm a hunk.

Indeed.

Oh, our hotel and lounge here on the
north shore of the island are very

with the ladies.

An excellent testing ground for your new
skill.

The day is young and filled with
beautiful women.

And I'm going to give all of them a
chance at the new me.

Good evening, handsome.

Hello.

Why, yes.

Then can we buy you a drink?

I'd be delighted.

I bet you can make John Travolta look
sick. Come on.

My, my, such naked interest, darling.

Somebody special from your past?

Uh, no, no.

Just someone I'd like to make very
special in my present.

Excuse me. What haven't we met? Uh, Joe,
honey.

Now, now, now, ladies, let's be
civilized. I promise there's enough of

around. Uh, why don't we just... Oh, you
don't mind, uh...

Call me Monty. Monty. Right. No, I don't
mind. Oh, good. Sit down, lady. Sit

down. More champagne.

Your best year, please. Yes, sir. And
keep it coming.

Oh, join the party, ladies.

Hello.

I'm Helga. What was your name again?

Stanley.

I'm Terry, darling.

Terry. Hi, I'm Lana.

Oh, you sure are.

I'm Mabel.

Pretty name.

Oh.

Mr. Rook, what about my fantasy?

When will it begin?

It's a very difficult fantasy, Miss
Peters. I would even say a most

one. Especially when you're so pretty.

Dr. Reaper didn't like pretty ladies at
all.

I'm aware of the dangerous tattoo.

I've been researching my book for years.

I know Jack the Ripper killed girls of
the streets, prostitutes.

All I need is proof.

Proof that I can only get by going back
to that exact period of time.

I know who Jack the Ripper was.

Which could put you in even greater
danger.

For your own sake, I must urge you to
reconsider.

Mr. Rourke, don't you see?

I've solved the world's greatest murder
mystery.

Please let me prove it.

I'm fit. I don't think... Please, Mr.
Ward.

Please.

Very well, Miss Peters.

Very well.

Will you come this way, please?

This is a very special door, Miss
Peters.

It can be caused to open into the past.

I warn you, this door is the only means
by which you can return here.

So it is vital you note its precise,
precise location after

you step through.

I will.

But first I want to change my clothes. I
brought some things I thought might be

appropriate.

Very well.

And, uh...

Good luck, Miss Peters.

This is a very special door. It can be
caused to open into the past.

This door is the only means by which you
can return here.

So it is vital you note its precise
location after you step through.

This is my street, dearie, and you'll
get office if you know what's good for

you. I'm sorry.

I was just passing by.

Try the embankment.

They ain't so particular there.

The remedy for all your ills, Harlot.

Detector.

Stanley, darling.

I'd tell you the girls give you the keys
to their bungalows. Oh, no. No.

Don't try to deny it.

Why not?

The best.

First.

What about your boyfriend?

Monty? He's the someone I met.

Don't be too long.

Good night, Stanley.

See you soon.

Well, I guess the party's over.

For a just beginning, you do have quite
a collection of keys, I believe.

Look,

about Helga.

I just met her tonight, old chap.

Fire your best shot.

Your check, sir.

$738?

Oh, my gosh.

That's... I... I... Mr.

Rourke?

Sir?

Sir? Mr. Rourke, am I glad to see you.
Yes, there's been a slight

misunderstanding about the check.

The check?

Yes. I thought the ladies were... You
know. I mean, after all, they were

swarming like... Bees around a hive.

I mean, I am a gigolo.

I'm sorry, Mr. Hocker, but it's your
responsibility to make arrangements with

your lady friends in advance if you
expect them to pay your expenses.

I have provided you with the
attractiveness and the charm which you

Have I not?

Underwriting your expenditures is
definitely not part of your fantasy.

I was just getting to the fantastic
part.

Stanley!

Please, allow me.

738, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 38. There
you are.

Thank you, sir.

Oh, thanks.

I mean, thank you.

Well, all is well that ends well, right,
Mr. Rourke?

I sincerely hope so, Mr. Hawker.

Will you excuse me?

Yes.

Oh, boy.

You got me out of a tight spot there.
I'll pay you back. I mean that. The

doesn't matter.

But you might be able to do me a favor.

You see, you do have the charm, old boy.
More than anybody I've seen in my

profession. What you lack, of course, is
the business sense. But I can teach you

that. What profession?

The archaic term is gigolo.

Really?

Now everything makes sense. Boy, am I
lucky I met you.

What do you want me to do?

Simply enjoy the gifts of womanhood, old
boy.

Especially those of a very attractive
Miss De Winter, who, by the way, will be

expecting you by the hotel swimming pool
tomorrow morning.

Ten o 'clock?

I'll be there.

Good.

Bonsoir, Chappy.

Good night.

Is Dr. Pelling?

No, he ain't. And he don't take
appointments this hour, either.

Well, it's very important.

He asked me to wait if he wasn't in.

Well, you can wait in his office,
dearie.

It ain't the time of die a decent woman
is out and about.

Don't be surprised if the doctor throws
you out.

Eat on all the street trash.

year of my father's shame and of my
degradation, another harlot shall die.

Tonight shall be the fifth.

All right, all right, get away.

Anybody know this poor girl?

Big up. Any of you see a stranger? Or
any suspicious character looking about?

I haven't seen anyone.

All right. You'll all have to come down
to the station house anyway and give a

speech.

is not here.

You want me to approve the menu?

Sure, no problem.

Yeah, I'll be there right away.

Okay, bye.

Uh, you wouldn't be Mr.

Winter.

Well, that depends.

You would be, um... Stanley.

Yes, Stanley, of course.

Balmy ball, man about town, professional
heartbreaker.

I aim to please.

Well, I'm afraid I'm not the Mr. Winter
that you should be aiming at.

Aunt Jessie!

Stanley's here!

Did they tell you I'm an old -fashioned
girl who likes a rumba dance?

After all, for $500 a day, I expect to
have my dance card filled. Agree? Of

course, Mr. Winter.

Oh, my God. Call me Jessie.

I know the escort service only gives you
a percentage of the fee.

But if we get along the way I think
we're going to, I can be very generous.

I promise.

See you.

See you.

Bye.

I hope I'm not late.

Oh, of course you're not, Monty. Mr.
Winter.

Hi, Stanley.

Well, I'm not much for picnicking, but
what do you say we get this one on the

road?

Aunt Jessie, I don't think Monty and I
need a chaperone.

Now, little girl, I promised your mother
I'm going to look after you, and look

after you I'm going to do.

If you gentlemen will excuse us, we'll
get into something a little more

appropriate for picnicking.

We'll see you in a minute.

What's going on here?

And why are you impersonating an unmade
bed?

It's very simple, old boy.

You see, the escort service assigned me
to Jesse.

Then I met Dina, and a whole new future
opened up. So I never really told them

who I was.

You of all people should understand that
Dina is a gigolo's dream.

She's young, she's beautiful, she's
susceptible and very, very rich.

In short, Dina is a pushover.

And I intend to push very hard.

Oh, and I keep Aunt Jessie so charmed
that she doesn't have time to get in the

way, huh?

Dear boy, Aunt Jessie is a career in
herself and even richer than Dina.

Do you know what you are, Monty?

What? A money -grubbing creep.

Look, if you don't want to go through
with this, then pay me my money and get

the hell out. I'll find somebody else to
take your place.

I don't know who I dislike more.

You or me?

But, boss, who would wear a cape like
this on front of the island?

Miss Peter, we were worried about you.

Would you believe I spent the whole
night in a police station?

In a police station?

Yes. But I got everything I need. It's
all here.

Letters, documents, family papers,
diaries.

Look, here's a letter.

It shows that Albert Fell was abandoned
by his mother when he was just a little

boy. She became a prostitute, and she
was blackmailing his father for years

to keep the secret.

A terrible tragedy for a child.

The final blow came on the day of Albert
Fell's graduation from medical school.

When his father could no longer bear the
shame, he committed suicide.

But he left that letter of explanation
for his son.

It's all there.

The whole sordid story.

You do seem to have established a
motive.

Yes, but there's more.

Look, this diary.

Describing his hatred of his mother and
of all women.

And the last entry in the diary.

For every year of my father's shame and
of my degradation, another harlot shall

die.

Tonight will be the fifth.

It appears you have indeed proven your
case beyond any doubt, Miss Peters.

The frightening thing is that I saw that
fifth victim.

I even spoke with her.

I might even have seen him.

I was so shocked.

Well, a man brushed by me. I hardly
noticed him, but he was carrying a

bag.

Did he, uh, wear a hat?

And, uh, a cape, like this.

The Ripper found your gateway back here
and is at this very moment loose on

Fantasy Island.

He might kill someone.

And it would be my fault.

matter?

It's an old polo injury.

It always acts up when I'm enjoying
myself.

Say,

you could practice with Monty just till
the pain goes away.

Oh, now, darling, you go right over
there and take it very easy.

Monty, come here, darling. Roomba lesson
time. Come to mama.

Come on.

I don't know how. I'll teach you.

I'll give it a try.

Now, wait a minute.

Hadina, I don't know how to say this.

Then don't. Huh?

Well, it's about Monty.

He's not what you think he is. I mean,
you're a very special girl.

Look, Stanley, please.

You're not the type for this pitch.

But no, it's not a pitch.

Oh, come on. Where have I heard that
before?

You know, I've had it up to here with
men like you.

Men who make careers out of poor little
rich girls.

I don't. Oh, come on.

You know, I've had at least a dozen
marriage proposals from men who are all

variations of you. Men who never really
saw me.

It's my bank account.

That's what I'm trying to tell you about
Monty. And you are special.

You're so beautiful.

Look, Stanley, please, will you just
stop this?

It's the first time that a nice, sweet
man has ever really cared about me for

myself.

That's just the point. Now, will you
listen to me, Dana, please?

Will you stop it? Now, I mean it. I've
asked you. Just please leave me alone.

stay away from me

Oh, here's a pretty one. I think I'll
wear this tonight.

It shows I'm available.

I've never

seen so many pretty

flowers.

Oh, that's beautiful.

Oh, that's so pretty.

Beautiful.

Oh, I love that. Look at the flowers.

Hi, Tattoo. Hi, Tattoo. What are you
doing here all alone?

We're just picking flowers for the
table.

The boss wants everyone next to the
hotel.

Come on. I'll take you back home.

Okay. We can pick some on the way. Okay.

Look,

you've just got to do something to help
me.

I'm sorry, Mr. Harker, but I have no
right to interfere with the winter's

of a husband.

Why don't you just tell her about him?

She won't listen to me.

And I can't blame her. I mean, look at
me. Mr. Smooth and his magic bracelet.

So you've discovered a woman is not,
after all, an object to be simply used,

is quite possibly a person with unique
qualities and sensibilities, huh?

I deserve that, Mr. Harker.

But it was just a fantasy with me. It's
a reality with Monty, and I'm not going

to let him hurt her.

If she won't talk to you, how are you
going to stop him?

I'll think of a way.

You're right, Mr. Rourke.

We are, each of us, unique.

We've just got to learn to make the most
of what we've got.

And I'm going to start right now, from
scratch.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a
debt to settle.

I think we should go back, talk to Mr.
Rourke, and call this whole thing off.

Bob, don't you understand?

We can't call it off.

My fantasy has become a reality.

And it's my responsibility.

I know who Jack the Ripper really is.

And by now he knows who you are. Your
book isn't worth dying for, is it? Oh,

come on, Bob.

You know, this is the first time that we
have spent together alone by mutual

consent. Yeah.

You've always been very clever about
that, haven't you?

We're not going to fight, are we?

No, it's just that... You know, I think
I like you better this way.

People look made for each other. It's
you.

Is that my guardian aunt talking or the
champagne?

Either way, she's right.

Of course I'm right.

I now pronounce you officially engaged.

Which gives me an idea.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an
announcement to make. I have something I

say, too.

Well, where did you disappear to?

What happened to your savoir faire?

Here's $738, Monty.

Stanley, I'm warning you. That was the
payoff price for taking Jesse off your

hands, wasn't it?

Stanley. What kind of drivel is this?

I came to you under false pretenses, Mr.
Winter.

The escort you paid for isn't me.

It's Bonnie.

You're lying.

I'm sorry, Dina. Check the escort
service.

Take your money, old boy.

Why, you rotten...

Confidentially, I don't think you're
worth 500 a day, old boy.

That was cut rate, you amateur.

I get a thousand.

Dina. Dina.

Well, you certainly got what you
deserved.

But you know what?

I like you.

Come and have some champagne, you
beautiful hunk.

I'll wait for Mama.

Look, I could sleep on your sofa.

Mm -hmm. We get a lot of rest that way.

Lorraine, after all this crazy business
is over, maybe...

Maybe.

You're younger than the others.

But you flaunt your evil body with even
less shame.

You don't understand what has happened.

But we are going back to that strange
doorway woman.

Back to Whitechapel.

Along with what you stole from me.

No one will ever know what happened to
you.

And when I've finished you, I shall
return here.

Safe.

At least for me.

Oh, Lord, I was born out of time.

all the same you use your sex to tempt
and degrade me

Dina?

Go away.

Dina, look at me, please.

Look at me.

You're looking at the real Stanley.

The other was just a fantasy.

I can't put two words together right,
you know?

I never could, but...

I just couldn't stand by and let
somebody like Monty... Well, you know...

You're too special.

You're very special.

I'm not special at all.

Oh, yes, you are.

We all are special.

And unique.

And in your case... Terrific.

Well, that was more than two words.

Yeah,

it was, wasn't it? Uh -huh.

Well, maybe if I practice...

make a most charming couple.

Dina and I are discovering we have a lot
in common, Mr. Rourke. And we can never

thank you enough for helping us find out
about each other and in ourselves.

Sometimes life's up and up just like a
beautiful flower.

Well said, Tattoo.

Very good.

Oh, Mr. Winter, is your aunt staying on?

Well, she and Monty seem to have worked
out some kind of an arrangement. They're

off to Rome somewhere.

She's very happy.

And so are we. Goodbye, Mr. Rourke.
Goodbye, Mr. Parker. Tattoo? Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Miss Peters?

West? I am not going to ask you if you
enjoyed your family.

Well, let's just say it was satisfying,
Matthew.

I'm not going to publish my book after
all.

Just knowing the truth is enough.

Oh, speaking of truth, here is a news
item from the London Dispatch of 1888,

which I don't believe you have in your
collection.

Tragedy in Whitechapel.

Dr. Bell, well -known physician, killed
in an accident while on mission of

charity.

Well, we know the truth, don't we, Mr.
Rourke?

I think it's best we leave it that way.

Thank you.

My pleasure. Goodbye. Bye -bye.

Thank you.