Original subtitles

They don't make movies like that nowadays.

No sheiks either, father.

The Grand Vizier.

I told you about him.

Sheik Ali Hassan's brother.

Half -brother.

I don't trust him.

Any particular reason? My old bones ache. They tell me about bad weather and

men. With that man, my whole body aches.

Open Channel D, please.

Mark Slate, Section 3, reporting to Mr. Waverly.

I'll get him, Mr. Slate, sir.

Time to butter up the chic, wouldn't you say, Casson?

Mr. Slate?

Waverly here.

Where are you?

At a camel drive -in with Sheikh Abu Hassan and his lovely daughter Fatima.

you know she and Miss Dancer could be identical twins, sir?

I'm aware of the resemblance, Mr. Slade.

Now, have you gained the Sheikh's confidence?

Well, if seeing Rudolph Valentino and Son of the Sheikh three nights running

any indication, yes.

Well, what about Thrush?

There's no tangible evidence they intend to seize control of the country.

There is a hint, though, of possible internal trouble with Sheikh Ali

half -brother, the Grand Wazir.

A hint?

What kind of a hint?

Well, sir, Omar, the Sheikh's aide, a rather elderly gentleman, well, sir,

his bones ache.

Well, no doubt you're trying to tell me something, Mr. Slater.

Perhaps where you are, you can't talk.

Then listen.

According to secret information, a takeover of Zalemar is imminent, which

that the Hazenoyfields could fall into enemy hands.

I'm only telling you which enemy I mean.

No, sir. Then hop to it, Mr. Slate.

Yes, sir. Oh, and Mr. Slate. Sir?

Doesn't Rudolph Valentino marry Vilma Banky in the end?

Yes, sir.

All three times.

Grrr!

Heart attack.

No reference whatever to Fatima's disappearance.

Which could be to our advantage.

Well, Mr. Kovac, sound off.

Sir?

Your report, man.

Oh, yes, sir.

Um, Zalimar, Middle East. A monarchy ruled by Sheikh Ali Hassan, or was.

Princess Fatima, by Zalmerian law, is the new ruler, being the only direct

or heiress.

Next in line of succession, the Grand Vizier.

Wives not being considered relatives.

That's funny. Is she having six wives and only one child?

What's so funny about that, Mr. Kovacs? Well, I mean, you figure a guy has six

wives.

I mean...

Nothing, sir.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning, Miss Johnson.

Or as they say in Zalimar at this hour, which is exactly midnight, Masil Hayar.

Oh, this young man is Randy Kovacs, Miss Johnson.

A senior at Manhattan High.

He evidently received straight A's in Arabic.

Welcome aboard, Mr. Kovacs.

I think it's absolutely divine, you trainees and uncle.

Are you the one who talked to Mark Slate yesterday?

Yes, Miss Dancer.

Oh, how is Mark, sir?

Well, from our last report, he is nursing a rather sizable headache, plus

considerable damage to his pride.

He certainly bungled this one.

Are you pecked, Miss Dancer?

For what, sir?

Kismet, my dear girl.

A singularly useful word, Kismet, my boy, meaning whatever fate may have in

store.

What's happening? What's happening?

Coronation. What's happening?

Coronation.

30 minutes.

Get in. I'll fill you in on the way.

On the way where?

Palace, dear.

Oh, what are you looking for?

What was that all about?

I suppose that could have been us.

Well, we can't expect to be universally loved.

Open the box.

Go on, it won't bite.

Are you sure?

Now, what's this?

A wig. What else?

And body makeup?

You're kidding.

Tell me you're kidding.

Tell it to Waverly. It's his idea.

Oh, yes. Kismet.

It's quite good, I must say.

Oh, really?

The spitting image of Her Royal Highness.

Down to the last bubble.

Oh, Mark, I'll never get away with this, not in a million years.

Of course you will.

You do need reassuring.

Oh.

Allah be praised. You shake your royal highness.

I'm not your royal highness.

You are not our princess?

Meet Miss April Dancer, Uncle Agent Extraordinary.

April, this is Omar, the late sheik's most trusted aide.

And this is Giselle, your handmaiden and closest companion.

How do you do?

Well, then, my princess, she is still missing.

I'm afraid so, yes.

But the Grand Vizier will be entering the sacred chamber.

If the princess is not sworn in today by noon.

In exactly six minutes.

Then, by Zalimarian law, the next in line must ascend the throne to become

new sheikh of Zalimar.

Loyal subjects of the late sheikh Ali Hassan, most worthy citizens of Zalimar,

and our friends overseas, this is Princess Fatima's abdication

signed by our beloved princess.

In her own handwriting, it reads,

I, Princess Fatima, daughter of the late Sheikh Ali Hassan, do hereby

abdicate as ruler of the great sheikhdom of... Well, the deuce is missed down,

sir. Mr.

Slade, half the orphans of the Middle East are being piped into the enemy's

hands with the word that man utters.

Where the dickens are those two?

Good citizens of Zalimar, although the Princess Fatima is too grief -stricken

speak for herself, she has asked me to say that she has changed her mind.

And she wishes to do, and will do, what her father, the late great Sheikh, would

want her to do.

To rule Zalimar to the best of her ability from now until as long as Allah

smiles upon her.

May Allah tear my tongue out by the roots if I lie to you. She is here, a

prisoner at Zayda Oasis.

And the princess here in the palace must be an imposter.

Please ask my most worthy uncle what he intends to do with me.

Sire, the princess wants to know. I heard, my most worthy niece.

Obviously, two princesses are...

Tell the princess to be patient. She will know her fate soon enough.

Well, speak. What is it?

Tonight, we ride to the Zeta Oasis to take care of the real Fatima.

Tomorrow shall be soon enough to dispose of the imposter here.

Zeta Oasis, how do I get there?

I will take you.

No, you'd better stay here and instruct our queen for a day in her royal duties.

Wait a minute. I'm with you, remember?

But who's going to mind the palace?

Besides, how would it look, a princess rescuing a princess?

It would destroy all the kiddies' faith in fairy tales.

But you cannot go alone.

Well, Abu could show him.

Abu?

He's a friend.

Young and strong.

He would be most helpful.

Good.

Don't worry, love.

You, he won't dispose of till tomorrow.

Thanks.

Come on, find your friend.

They took the bait, sire.

Both the man from Uncle and the girl?

Good. Good.

What a delicious surprise we'll be waiting for them at the Oasis, huh?

Looks deserted, wouldn't you say?

So the eye says, but the head, he says we must be careful.

Oh, yes.

No Arab silently steals away without first folding his tent.

It would be poetic injustice.

Unless haste was of utmost importance and he had no time to pack a camel.

Let's give it a go.

I think that is the last one.

What do you think? I think I need a tourniquet.

I've been shot.

Don't worry. I think you will live.

Where's the nearest civilization?

Oh, hazing oil fields.

Roughly five kilometers northwest.

Come in.

You cannot keep your fiancée, the future caliph of Calais, waiting.

Omar, I can't go through with it. I'm not Fatima.

Please.

Oh.

All right.

Ah.

What's... Well, what's the proper etiquette for a sheikess meeting a

caliph, especially if she intends to marry him?

Ah, first...

You make a little bow.

And then you say... Favoured of Allah, noblest of nobles, peace be upon you, my

army.

Favoured of Allah, noblest of nobles, peace be upon you, my fair Fatima.

Congratulations. You did beautifully.

I'm April Dancer.

I'm not Fatima. He's not my fiancé.

I'm April Dancer.

Your most worthy royal highness.

I only just learned of your presence here in our humble palace. I'm so sorry

Princess Fatima could not be here to greet you.

Wrong, my dear uncle.

Why would I not be here to meet my betrothed?

My amen.

Nothing could keep you away, I'm sure.

The agents from Uncle have gone to Zeta Oasis, you said.

Both this man Slate and the girl have gone, you said.

Instead, I still find this girl here in the palace pretending to be Princess

Fatima. Now, what happened?

Something went wrong, I think.

Something went wrong, you think?

Something went wrong because you don't think. Now we must get rid of that girl

immediately. No one can hear us. I took care of that concealed microphone.

Now, how do you intend to dispose of this girl from uncle?

Me? Yes, you.

And this time you must not fail or else.

But sire, can we afford to risk the wrath of Ahmed? If we get rid of the

while Ahmed is still here, he might ask embarrassing questions.

Perhaps you're right.

It suits my purposes to remain friendly with the Caliph of Calais until such

time when he too can be liquidated.

No. Do not harm the girl until after her departure.

Meanwhile, I will take care of the real Fatima at the Hazen oil field.

I'll go.

Aye, sire.

Mark? Mark?

Yes, April.

We found out where they're holding Princess Fatima.

Has an oil field.

I know. We're close to the field now.

You are?

Well, be careful.

Don't go rushing into things.

Maybe you should wait for more help.

I thought you were the one who needed help.

Oh, don't worry about me. Save the princess.

I'm perfectly safe as long as Ahmed's here.

But Ahmed cannot stay here.

What do you mean Ahmed cannot stay here? Our custom will not allow the future

caliph to stay past one sunset with his betrothed.

Unless... Unless what?

Unless you are married.

It's the only way.

Hansel, after a month or so, I will allow you to die.

Yes, that is the only human thing to do.

Your head I will have on a platter, my most worthy uncle.

April?

Mark, where are you?

Relax, relax. We found Fatima.

I don't dare relax.

You better get her back here as quickly as possible.

But be careful.

That girl.

All we're telling... All we're telling me to be

careful.

Fleet Guard?

They're quite harmless, really.

Drop it.

And now, Mr. Slate, if you'll kindly take your seat.

April DeMarc, April DeMarc, please come in.

It's that time.

Can't you stall them a little longer?

Unfortunately, it is now in Allah's hands. According to the sundial, the

are right for a most favorable union.

Why can't we go by a clock like every other country in the world? This is

Alamar.

And I'm Princess Fatima.

Oh, Mark, please come in.

The shadows are creating longer.

Giselle. Yes.

You stay here. Keep trying to contact Mark Slade. Let me know immediately if

hear anything, even if it means interrupting the ceremony. All right.

Especially if it means interrupting the ceremony.

By now, Mr. Slade, my favorite niece, Fatima, perhaps the thought of what is

happening to you is slowly sinking in.

Rather crude, this first brainwashing technique. Over 2 ,000 years old, except

I have refined the technique.

Have you noticed the texture of the liquid? Of course you have.

Oil.

Specially refined oil of an unusual viscosity, dripping drop by drop,

steadily, without any let -up, hour after hour.

on one tiny single spot of the brain, slowly driving you

completely insane.

Drip, drip, drip.

Oil, for which the world is willing to fight.

Oil, Mr. Slate, which Uncle wants at any cost, including your life.

of two people, of two countries, of two governments.

Mr.

Slate?

Oh, Mr. Slate, please, can you hear me?

This is Channel D, Randy Kovacs here.

Oh, Mr. Kovacs.

Miss Dancer asked me to contact Mr. Slate while she's getting married.

Married?

Miss Dancer is getting married.

I suspect she has good reason for it.

Where's Mr. Fleet?

He's trying to rescue Princess Fatima. He may be in trouble.

Can you send someone after him?

Someone after him?

I could go myself. It's not far.

No, no. No, it might be dangerous.

Do you have a gun?

A gun? What are you talking through right now?

Well, it's a radio.

That's it. It's a sleep dart gun. Press the handle.

Now, when you pull the trigger, sleep darts shoot out.

They won't kill anyone, but they sure knock you out in a hurry.

Okay.

And

now,

in the sight of Allah, these two are as one.

May they live in the spirit of happiness until the sands of the desert grow

cold.

A Western custom. I understand it is practiced in many countries of Europe

in America.

Ahmed, I think there's something I should tell you.

I'm April.

April Dancer.

I'm really not Fatima.

The wedding night wine, Your Highness.

Traditional.

You are most kind, Omar.

Thank you.

Omar!

You must stay and have a drink with us.

It's... It's traditional in Zalimar.

Someone must propose a toast to the bride and groom.

It's traditional.

Whatever you say.

Princess,

Your Highness.

May Allah smile upon you.

May your progeny be many.

Thank you very much, Omar.

Here you are.

Omar!

Why don't you sit down and have another drink with Ahmed while I go change?

Huh? Yeah!

Your hiatus.

Well, goodbye, you beautiful bride.

Is it working, Mr. Slade?

Slowly.

I wouldn't be too optimistic.

The acid's going to have to hit right on the thong if it's going to do any good.

Now.

Beautiful, beautiful.

Much better than a late, late show.

By this time tomorrow, Fatima should be hopelessly insane.

Then it should be easy to substitute her for this girl from Uncle Impostor.

When they see that the real Fatima is incapable of ruling, a cry shall ring

throughout the country. Hail the new Sheik of Zalimar.

Me.

What happened?

Are you all right? I'm all right.

We must get to Mr. Slate and Princess Fatima quickly.

Yes.

Now, come.

Zeke of Zalama.

Caleb of Calais.

One day I shall be both.

I shall possess all the oil of Zalimar and all the power plants of Calais,

including the huge Calais dam at Gida. But, sire, oil and water do not mix.

They will for me.

They will make me the richest man in the world and the entire universe.

Yes. Oh, my.

Oh, my.

Get rid of them far out in the desert.

Bury their worthless carcasses deep in the sand.

Yes, sire.

It is most uncomfortable for Mr. Slate. It is not good for him.

In an hour, he couldn't care less.

Please.

A condemned man's last request.

Why not?

Find out what's wrong.

Don't try to escape.

My men are watching.

I'm so sorry for what I did, Mr. Slate.

That's all right, dear.

Patience. Patience.

It is a bride's privilege to take all the time in the world to make herself

beautiful for her husband. My Fatima is beautiful in every way without these

beauty things.

Yes. Yes.

Fatima?

Fatima?

I do not understand this.

Where's my Fatima?

Fatima, where's Fatima? Yes, where, old man?

At Hazen Oilfield, perhaps?

Hey, wait a minute!

I want to tell you something!

No!

It's time there will be no slip -up.

I have often said the Salomon torture test is a fate worse than death.

Better, much better to die than to live as you will live.

Without memory of the past, nor enjoyment of the present.

The Wazir speaking.

And now, Ahmed is on his way to Hazen Oil Field.

Fool! Why did you let Ahmad and the girl get away?

I did not know they had gone, sire.

But is it not good that I called you in time? It is all that saves your

worthless hide.

I'll deal with you later.

So, my uncle, things are not going according to plan.

Only minor difficulties.

It would seem your intended, the future caliph of Kali, is on his way to try to

rescue you.

If he gives us any problems, perhaps he will keep you company in the other

chair. As for the girl from uncle, she will die.

I swear as Allah is my witness, she will die.

Keep your voice low and tell me what I can do to help.

Wait a minute.

Yup, you see that pool of oil over there by the pipeline?

By the shutoff valve on the pipe?

To your left.

If you were to set fire to that, those people by the truck would have to run

put it out.

Then it should be relatively simple, even for a girl from Uncle to come down

here and liberate us.

Thank you, Mr. Slade.

And you needn't be so high and mighty.

Just watch me.

Hello?

Gun, quick!

God Turn

around

On the deck

The Sam gentlemen and you

Cruel, isn't it, making them eat Sam?

Not so cruel, my dancer.

Stay! Don't move.

As I was saying, not so cruel as it could be.

Now drop your guns or Fatima dies.

Cut him!

Take her!

So, now we have our two Fatimas at one time. Of course you have changed, my

dear.

Different hair, different complexion, but still quite a remarkable

Ah, it's a pity you must be destroyed.

Such a waste.

So, here you are.

Why did you leave me so soon after our marriage? Why?

Mark, look!

Well, you'd think he could tell the difference.

Apparently, you made very little impression on the future Shah.

Sixteen and a half, huh? Then you must be a junior in high school.

A junior?

What is this junior?

Junior is what we're going to call you if you don't stop using the

of personal chit -chat.

Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Dancer. It'll never happen again, I promise.

Right, Dean. He'd like that.

Oh, I will, Janice.

Mark?

Yes?

Do you think it's legal, my giving Ahmed three sheep, which automatically annuls

our marriage?

I wouldn't worry about it. It's all over and done with.

That's what you think.

I've still got to fill out my expense report for Mr. Waverly.

How much are three sheep?