All language subtitles for the_ray_bradbury_s02e09_the_coffin

People ask, where do you get your ideas?

Well, right here.

All this is my Martian landscape.

Somewhere in this room is an African
veldt.

Just beyond, perhaps, is a small
Illinois town where I grew up. And I'm

surrounded on every side by my
magician's toy shop.

I'll never starve here.

I just look around, find what I need,
and begin.

I'm Ray Bradbury, and this is...

Well then, right now, what shall it be?

Out of all this, what do I choose to
make a story?

I never know where the next one will
take me.

And the trip?

Exactly one half exhilaration, exactly
one half terror.

The goods arrive.

Boss is to the south room, please.

Hmm.

cannot think this is wise, Charles.

All your money and valuables, why here?

Why not let them remain in the bank?

What I have, I wish to hold, St. John.

Close to me, to the end.

As you wish, Charles.

I only hope it'll be safe.

It will be, rest assured.

What do you want?

Well, you know, I always pop by each
week to see how you are.

Your attendance here, Richard, is
prompted by one of two motives.

Plan A, to see if I'm dead.

Plan B, if I am unhappily still living,
to touch me for some money.

Well, with your bank account, what's a
few pounds either way?

And blood is thicker than water, old
man.

I'm not your old man, and I hate to
think I'm your brother. Goodbye.

Old Ebenezer Scrooge.

Why don't you add bar humbug while
you're at it?

Was that sent in court I just saw
leaving?

It was.

Why, you think our lawyer had to cut me
out of the will?

Assuming you were in it to start with.

What are you up to?

I'm busy dying, if you must know.

Then what's... I'm building my coffin.

You can't die, Charles.

Who would I have to hate, then?

And brilliant and better though I may
not be, this doesn't look like coffin

building. But it is.

A very special, fine, incredibly...

Creative coffin.

Well, it wouldn't be cheaper to buy one,
would you? I mean, I know you're a

tightwad, but this is ridiculous.

Nowhere in the world is there a coffin
like this.

No one in the world has ever thought of,
let alone built, an incredible coffin.

Building a rocket to fly him to the
honey farm in the sky.

It's too big for a coffin. It must be
eight or nine feet long. So if it is a

coffin, it's obviously not for you, old
man.

No?

It's too thick, too high.

Maybe for someone of 300 pounds or more,
but not for a decrepit old bag of bones

like you.

What's this?

The lid?

Who ever heard of a coffin with a
window?

What's the good of that?

Do you want to look out of it for the
next 10 ,000 years?

I might. I had a mind to.

Tapes? A tape player?

Could be.

Well, I'll be damned.

I hope so.

When do you leave, Richard?

Oh, truth to tell, old boy.

Thought I might stay for a while. Give
you the pleasure of my company.

Do you mind?

Yes. Because it must be quite lonely if
you hear rattling around on your own

with just that silly little tin can for
company.

Some company I can do without, thank
you.

Yes.

If you never did get over it, did you,
all those years ago now?

Please go, Richard.

She fancies the younger man. You can't
blame me for that.

Girl in her 20s and you nearly 50 was
never going to work, was it? Leave my

house. Oh, yes, my house.

You never miss a chance of ramming that
down my throat, do you? It was left to

both of us, if you remember.

And remember, you sold up to me.
Gambling debt, wasn't it? Had to stop

friendly villain nailing your feet to
the floors, I recall. Oh, it's no

of my dear brother giving the money. Oh,
no. Mr. Firm but Fair had to screw me

and take me for every... Take? Take!

You're the taker all your miserable
life. Our mother, money, clothes, booze,

cars. And then Angela. You could never
forgive me for Angela, could you?

Get out, Richard.

Give you to it, old boy.

Get my bag out of the car.

Pluck my filth in the usual place.

Just fancy waiting around.

See what you're up to.

Dearly beloved.

Double, damn you. Double.

Don't go away.

He's a miser, you know.

No use for his loot.

He won't let me get near it.

But I know how to enjoy life.

He's never forgiven me for it.

9, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

Left turn.

1, 2, 3.

Right turn, front door. Yes, I reckon
you're making your exit just in time.

You're barking mad, old man, barking.

Help yourself to another drink, Richard.
Son of the over -the -yard arm in eight

hours.

85 yards to the clearing.

The fact is, Richard, I fear the end is
nigh.

Let the Padre say.

Time to let bygones.

No use scrapping all the way to the
grave.

Let the hand this... For your coffin,
any time.

So, dear brother, isn't she beautiful?

My love, my most wonderful invention.

I'm so bloody marvellous about this heap
of junk, anyway.

What? Open sesame.

Nice, thank you. Cheers.

The whole caboodle's ripped about the
dumbest thing I've ever seen.

Dumb?

Well, what use is it?

Are you going to sell a million?

No way. You're dead, and you're in it,
and you're dumb.

Dumb.

And no one's going to miss you.

You always had a pious action, didn't
you?

Never had any real friends. They were
just after your money. Just like Angela.

Angela never loved you.

Get out.

Get out, Richard.

What?

Get out. Get out.

I guess the truth hurts.

Daddy's wearing a fuse.

Keep this to ourselves for the time
being.

Sell the bits for something.

Throw you in as well.

Might make a few quid.

Oh, yes, you collected my brother's
body.

The remains, yes. You haven't come down
to pick out the casket as yet, and I

thought... Just an ordinary casket,
thank you.

Simple pine?

Yes. Pine is fine.

And the service, sir?

No services, thank you. No, he would
have preferred it that way.

Charles asked me to read this missive
containing details of his will.

Fine, fine.

He thanks you for taking care of the
funeral arrangements and for ensuring

burial in what he describes as the
Charles Braning pomp and circumstance

No doubt you understand the reference by
the family joke.

And? Yes, indeed.

Item one, the aforesaid coffin now being
underground, occupied.

Charles wishes that you should yet be
able to profit from the invention.

Drawings and circuitry details have been
left with me.

They're in a separate envelope.

Item two, the house is left to you.

Well, of course, we were very, very
close.

However, I should advise you that this
part of the legacy is not as

as it might seem.

Huh? I fear that death duties payable on
the estate are punitively high. They

may absorb the total present value of
the property.

Charming. However, Charles provides an
item three. He does?

All monies and valuables within the
house...

are left to you. Oh, nice.

Nice.

Have you been round this place?

Mother Hubbard was never in it.

Mr. Charles further authorizes me to
inform you of certain banking processes

which I undertook on his behalf just
prior to his death.

Okay, go on, go on.

Well, Mr. Charles's instructions, I
withdrew from the bank the entire

Which was?

rather in excess of £750 ,000.

Good Lord!

He also instructed me to secure the safe
deposit box for him. In it were items

of jewellery, once purchased with a
young lady in mind, I believe.

These were insured for £550 ,000.

I must advise you, Mr Richard, that to
the best of my knowledge, this fortune

must be within the house.

It's the most irregular state of
affairs, but there we are. Your brother

have it no other way.

And that's really all there is to it,
except that he closes in the following

manner.

Cheerio, then Richard.

No hard feelings.

In the grave, there is forgiveness.

May you live long to enjoy your yo -ho
-ho bottles of rum.

In France?

Where's the beer money?

Where is it?

King warrior.

Plan to take it all with you.

Sorry, Charles, but this needs looking
into.

Secret compartment for the loot. I'll be
bound.

Open sesame.

Now this coffee begins to make sense.

Face, body and coffee. Music will... All
right, Charles.

Up to you again.

Music will I work.

That's it, folks. I'll be with you again
in the morning.

The family is gathering for the funeral.

Oh, no.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on
this sad day to pay our respects

to one who will be sorely missed from
the center of our lives.

That's Charles's voice.

The old son of a gun delivering a
funeral sermon on himself.

In his life, he was a cad.

a bounder, and a no -good, a villain, a
terror, and a layabout

fiend.

Oh, good heavens, he doesn't think much
of himself, did he? I mean... So it is

with great relief that we finally say
goodbye to this awful man.

Yes, awful man.

Richard Braley. Richard Braley.

Yes.

Richard Braley.

How dare... That's the wrong...

Yes, indeedy.

Surprise, surprise.

Stop it, Charles. There's enough of this
joke.

You always were a curious devil,
Richard. I counted on that.

If a bottle red drink me, you drank it.

If a box red eat me, you ate whatever
was in the box.

And if a box maybe contained some loot,
well, now, I just knew

that if I put instructions in the coffin
to start music, place body in coffin,

you couldn't resist playing the body,
playing dead.

Well played, Richard.

Well done.

And now, on with the funeral, old
Richard.

Stop it, Charles.

Enough. Stop it.

Attention! Born in 1935, my brother,
younger by some 20 years, Richard

never was, never... never would be
anything.

A gaseous siphon, a bother, a pest, a
borrower, and never a lender.

He is well out of the world. We
celebrate his passing.

Can't anyone hear me?

Work on the lead.

Take the glass.

No tantrums, please, brother.

Calmness.

Serenity.

Why?

Sweet, sweet calm.

There.

Now.

Ashes to ashes.

Well, Richard, I doubt very much we'll
meet in the next world.