All language subtitles for Blonde Goddess 1982

were okay as long as the drums were
beating. At least that's what she had

heard. And what Jungle Jane hadn't heard
about the lore of these tropical

forests just wasn't worth hearing.

Still, someone or something was gaining
on her.

While her heart kept cadence with the
mocking throb of the native drums, the

pursuit was relentless, unstoppable.

Jungle Jane knew there would be only one
ending to this chase.

She was drawn to the portals of the Jal
Bazar, the sacred city.

There was no place to hide.

They were watching.

Silent, secret, and hidden.

Perhaps behind pillars or in the
shadowed doorways, but they were there.

Their eyes were on her.

Vast, cool, and unsympathetic.

And she could not escape.

They could afford to wait.

To me, Peyton.

A breath was being torn from her chest
in heaving gasps.

She couldn't continue much longer at
this pace.

The interior reeked of unknowable age
and

unspeakable evil.

Female. My friends call me Jungle Jane.

Here you have no friends.

Here you have no name.

Why am I being held? You have no right
to interfere with me. Silence!

You have violated mysteries beyond your
ken.

The very fountainhead of lust and flesh.

The need to live.

The will to love.

This is the primal core of all that
lives on the face of the earth.

The womb of soul.

Big talk, big face.

Tell it to your fellow inmates at
territorial prison.

I can afford to be merciful with you,
female.

You know not of what you speak.

Look, then.

On the face of amore and despair.

This is she?

Yes, oh perfect one.

Oh wretched, rash, intruding female.

Observe then the rites which no
outlander may see.

You shall not.

Return to tell the story.

Yes. Oh, perfect one.

Here, in the womb of souls, in this
spot,

in this manner did life begin.

So has it always been.

So will it always be.

There and there and there.

Oh, God, yes. The touch is all.

Press.

Pinch.

Stroke.

Feel the deep.

pools of life bubble with them.

The touch is life.

Feel and be felt.

Fondle.

Squeeze.

Caress.

So even do stars come into being.

And we burn with the same fire that
glows in the loins of

heaven.

Oh, harder, harder.

Oh.

Smith. Louisiana Smith.

Louisiana Smith.

Louisiana Smith.

Louisiana Smith.

I knew someday you'd come walking back
into my life. I have waited for you,

Louisiana Smith.

Always and ever throughout the rolling
ages, I have not

waited in vain.

Smith, cut!

Smith!

Always

and

ever, Louisiana Smith.

You belong with me.

Stay.

the murmurs of the outland.

Nay, this is not your place.

Heed me, Elmo.

Elmo?

Elmo Smathers, you do not belong here.

Listen, not Smith.

You're always fouling up, Elmo.

You think this is your personal
playground, huh? Well, it's not. It's a

business. I shall wait.

for you, Louisiana Smith.

I repeat, Elmo, Marvel Comics is a
business.

I know, Dr. Fish.

How nice. He knows me.

What a jerk knob.

Please, Jane, I'll handle this.

Now pay attention, smathers.

We have a corporate image to uphold.

We have stockholders to keep happy. We
have a board of censors to appease.

Of course, Dr. Fish.

These are comic books, nerd face. Comic
books.

We have a set of standards to meet.

Elmo.

Do you know who that lady is over there?

No, Dr. Fish. Well, I do. And I'll tell
you.

She's Miss Frida Farnsworth of the Comic
Code Authority.

Elmo, she's not very happy with Marvel
Comics.

Particularly your Louisiana Smith
adventure series.

I have never seen such an act of
degradation.

Degradation? Can't you see it? Women,
bound and tormented.

Limbs distorted.

Faces contorted.

Dr. Fish, how can you, an educated man,
have anything to do with such a vulgar

enterprise? And how can you retain
this... this...

Now, now, Miss Farnsworth.

I mean it. Look at these poses.

The arms are thrown back so that the
breasts are lifted and thrust forward.

The back is arched provocatively.

The legs are taught to emphasize
muscular definition.

Such poses are an open invitation to
lust.

Wanting. It reeks of pure animal
passion.

I'm awfully hot in here, aren't you?

You see, Elmo, what Miss Fonsworth is
working up to.

You go too far, son.

It's not as though you aren't a good
artist. You are.

You're one of the best.

That's why I keep you here at Marvel
Comics.

But you must learn restraint.

Even with flying aces, Elmo, you messed
up.

How you could work smut into a simple,
straightforward World War I story, I'll

never know.

Jane, would you mind filling up the
pitch for us, please?

Sure, Dr. Fish.

Jerk knob.

Planes. That's what I wanted.

Planes.

Spads. Sopworth camels.

A war to make the world safe for
democracy.

A place of unparalleled danger.

A time for heroes like Johnny Yang.

Twin Spandau machine guns ripped through
the sky of rural France and tore into

the fragile fabric of Johnny Sopwith
Camel.

He was near to exhaustion, having shot
down seven Hun aircraft that morning.

His ammo was gone, and the fuel gauge
kissed empty.

Relentlessly...

The Baron's triplane closed in for the
kill.

backing you kindly, mademoiselle, but I
sure am itching to get back in the

battle. But you'd travel so much faster
if you let us teach you a little

Francais. Oh, Johnny, Yank never was too
good at that frog talk. For your first

lesson, baby?

But Jacqueline and I are expert
teachers, darling.

The secret is all in the proper use of
the tongue.

Thank you, your second.

He's coming this way. Hide him there.

Oh, Monsieur Le Baron, I only wanted to
see if this pleased you.

And this, Monsieur Baron, does this
please you?

Very nice. And this, does this please
you too?

Nice, nice. And this? Good, good, good.

Oh, la, la. Uh, Fräulein, I am exhausted
from battle. I would like to bathe

under sleep, ja?

Danke schön. Oh, but can't you play with
us for just a little while, please?

I would like to sleep.

Oh, mon chéri.

Oh, la, la.

Oh, la, la. Ça, ça fait peur.

Chéri, it must be the famous Paris gun.

Ça, ça se met en gros, chéri. Do you
like it?

Oh, I love it, pipi. It's so pretty.

Oh, hot.

I would like to eat you.

Oh, la, la, me too.

Thank you.

It's good

Das ist der Schnitzel und hier kommt
der...

Oh, that is good.

Okay.

Oh, that is nice.

You make me feel so good, too.

Messy, but nice.

But it's okay.

Oh,

Johnny Yank. The bear caught with his
pan just down.

Funny.

Jacqueline, s 'il vous plaît, bougez le
ballon.

We love you, Johnny.

Oh, my darling.

or shut down 80 several planes?

Just lucky, man.

And you're the Contessa?

You own this dump?

Why, you're my lucky young lady
yourself.

What's he doing here?

Let's just say I like to keep an ace or
two up my sleeve.

Or whatever.

If you know what I mean.

Smothers!

Ellen, if there were an asshole
liberation front, you'd be head of the

provisional wing.

You're about to soil my chair!

Yes. Yes, I remember that issue with the
flying aces.

Those French women.

Those costumes.

There was no doubt about what was
happening.

The longing and passion he drew into
their eyes and mouths.

There, there, Frieda. I can't call you
Frieda, can I?

Oh, please do.

Well, he was severely reprimanded for
that, I can assure you. Such strong,

violent, passionate men taking what they
want.

It's the man's nature to take what he
wants when he sees it.

And the women want to be taken?

Of course.

That's their nature.

Oh.

Didn't you read Elmo's Jack Hammer
detective series?

Yes. Oh, yes.

That was worth even in the French girls.

Those gun malls and violent men.

Wanton women.

Oh, wanton women. It was one of those
city days.

The air was heavy and wet and tasted
like stale beer.

Flat with no head.

A familiar taste for Jack Hammer,
Private Eye.

It went with the job.

The way loose teeth went with an
uppercut.

I loved her voice.

The honest, grown -up, female sound of
it.

I loved the way it twisted and burned as
it went down like a belt of good

bourbon. Hi, baby.

Any calls while I was out?

You always get calls, Jack.

You know that.

They just can't seem to let you alone.

Sadie was packed like a seed in a grape,
and she had curves that would make

Bobby Fella wet himself with envy.

That's why she was my secretary.

She also typed a bit. Yeah, I'm popular.

Skip the social jazz, Sadie, and let's
get to the paying customer.

Speaking of pay, big boy, where's mine?

You know, for, um, services rendered?

If you don't got the cash, I'll take it
payment in kind.

I haven't got time, Sadie.

Oh, come on, Jack.

Just, uh...

Little fringe benefit from my very own
private deck.

Looks like you got me covered,
sweetheart.

Hands up, Jack.

Hands and anything else you can get up.

I love the feel of cold steel against my
warm pussy.

It's nice.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Do me down and dirty and fuck me filthy.

Oh, give it to me, Jack.

Take it, Sadie.

FUCKING SERIETY FUCKING FUCK

I did have one customer drop by.

Female, mid -twenties. Not your type,
though.

Real goody two -shoes. All buttons and
bows and lacy chastity belts.

That's the only reason I'm telling you.
She's no threat.

You're my secretary, baby, not my
chaperone. If I want my customers

I'll run for president. Even Eleanor
needs an appointment with him.

Sure, baby, sure.

You know me. I was only joking.

She says for you to meet her at the
Times Square subway station at midnight.

You've still got time to meet her there.

Who? Miss Van Horn.

Sounds like Atlanta.

Looks like money.

You can't miss her.

Oh, I'd better not.

Or we'll find uses for your ass you
can't even imagine.

I'll take that as a promise.

Townite.

Sweetheart.

I had a few enemies, sure.

You don't punch faces and blow away
belly buttons for 15 years without

up a couple of bums that ain't too
friendly.

I can pierce both ears with one slug.

Well, I'm just plain old Millie Van
Horn, that's all. And you're either some

cheap fuck or Mr.

Hammer coming to keep our appointment.

I sure hope you're Mr. Hammer.

What was that for, honey?

Just to soften you up a bit, sweetheart.

And to get your attention.

I never met a dame yet that didn't
understand a slap in the face.

Or a slug from a 45.

Now you can drop that phony corn -pone
accent.

I know all about you Vanhorns.

Strictly a Bronx.

Old money. Peak to monopoly.

Daddy's going to mozzarella heaven.

And you and Sister Jill are left to
scrap over the crust.

That's what this is all about, isn't it,
sweetheart?

That's about right, Hammer.

I heard you were smart.

You heard right.

What's your beef?

The Abu Dhabi dildo. The what?

The Abu Dhabi dildo. I've got it and
they want it. Who's they?

The corporation.

Mr. Big and his boys.

And then everything went black.

What hit me?

Mr. Hammer, I presume.

Judging by the lump on the back of my
head, you must be Babe Ruth.

I'm pleased to see the blow did not
damage your sense of humor, nor your

of speech.

I've got nothing to say to you, Big.

So you know my name.

Very nice.

Now, about the dildo. I've never seen
the need for one myself.

Don't be coy, Mr. Hammer. The dildo.
Where is it? Check the bat rack. I hear

it's a big one.

Why must it always be this way?

The end will be the same. Bruno!

Yeah, boss.

Ready.

In dealing with Miss Van Horn, you see,
we don't have to worry about witty

repartee. The Van Horns are unusually
passionate women.

All we have to do is prime her pump and
she will come a -gushing.

Oh, this is a part of our work that
Bruno and I like the best.

Yeah, boss, like a lot. Now you watch us
and you get

hot.

Come on, wake up.

Here. Come on.

All right, big.

The fun's over.

Grab his rod, Sadie. Okay.

The chick has got a one -track mind.

If sex could be turned into sound, this
girl would deafen the whole city. I knew

she was through, Jill and Millie's other
sister. But I also knew she'd mean much

more to me than that.

Everybody's got a gun.

Looks like a Mexican standoff,
sweetheart.

Or the start of a new partnership,
Hammer.

A close, personal, warm partnership.

I bet you'd like that.

Very nice.

Very nice.

But fill out your dance card on your own
time, Sue.

Keep your mind on business.

I want that dildo.

Sorry, Big, but Jack and I will need it
to start our own operation.

I've canceled your option.

I hear you really know how to hurt a
girl, Sammy.

That's disgusting.

Jack, I can't stop doing that.

You hurt her, Elmo.

Not Elmo. Jack.

Jack Hammer.

You mean jackass. Now don't bother me,
Elmo. I'm taking a meeting with this

young lady.

Not Elmo.

Jack. Jack Hammer.

Didn't you hear me, Smathers? I said
stop doing that at once.

I told you he was a pervert.

Oh, surely you must understand his poor
human failings.

Oh, I know, I know. God, we all have
such needs.

But his art, the readers, so strange.

Even the alien women in his outer space
adventure, they're so...

It was a typical day in the life of Tony
Steel, construction worker and exo

-biologist.

Attractive women went out of their way
to give him the eye.

But this one was in trouble.

Big trouble.

He had a grip on, but something had a
grip on him.

Hit with a Diolian transport ray from
Actia V, Tony and his companion were

sucked into the vortex of space.

Tony knew it could only mean one thing.

His arch enemy, Megazon, the Galactic
Panderer, was up to his old tricks.

Master, here is another specimen from
the planet Earth.

Excellent, Balcor.

Who are you? Where is this place?

I demand you release me at once.

Silence, Earth bitch.

And my pretties, how do you like her?

She's your present.

Give her to them.

Oh, baby.

Come on. Push it in. Oh, fuck it.

But me?

Harder.

I feel good.

right now.

put Megazon's body out of commission.

But this mad, malicious spirit cast its
dark shadow on the asteroid city of

Actier 5.

Elmo. Elmo?

Elmo smothers.

Elmo, you nincompoop, you've done it
again.

No.

No, stay.

I cannot.

I've yearned for you.

Please stay.

You're a blithering idiot, do you know
that?

Oh, I can't stand so much. It's just too
much.

Oh, Robert, he must be released. I can't
stand it. Yes, my dear.

For you, all this and more shall be
released.

Oh, release.

Release.

Oh.

Suck on it.

Oh, just take me. Take me like I want to
be.

Oh. Oh.

Oh, God.

Oh, fuck me. Oh, yes.

Oh.

Yeah!

This time, Louisiana Smith.

This is forever.

Yes.

And here in the womb of souls, where
there is no beginning and no end.

There is a beginning.

It comes with the wanting.

Sometimes the wanting is better than the
having.

Sometimes.

But not this time.

What?

No.