Original subtitles

Nobles of the cult of Cambodises, our days of

civility to Thrush Center are coming to an end.

Through a brilliant scientific discovery, we will soon

reincarnate the mad genius of our dead founder into the mind and body of

his only living descendants.

Through this miracle,

of science, Cambodises will live again.

Go, Elburs.

Go, Beaver.

Bring back this elixir, which will transplant the

destructive power of our dead leader into the mind of his great,

great, great granddaughter.

Thank you.

Rat poison.

Why do you always insist on coming here?

The only place in town coffee's five cents a cup.

Tell me about this Dr. Amporo we're supposed to take into custody.

No protective custody, love.

Apparently he's invented some kind of...

Serum, which can transfuse your grandmother's brains into you.

Delightful.

Nasty stuff, really, that you'd pour in the wrong hand.

Disastrous.

That's what it would be.

A total disaster if the wrong people should utilize my serum, Miss Karam. A

living descendant of Attila the Hun, Genghis Khan.

What terrible chaos it could bring into the world.

Now who?

Could it be the agents from Anka?

Possibly. Show them in.

Reincarnation.

Live again.

Ah, the emissaries from Mr. Waverly.

Come to escort me and my formula to safer quarters.

I've never met an Anka agent before.

A pleasure, Dr. Rampura.

A great honor. Thank you.

I'll get the vial. You take his note.

Quick, let's go.

Not without you, don't.

Absolutely fascinating.

Really? So is a coral snake, Mr. Slate.

And this lady's kiss can be just as deadly.

Oh, death, where is thy sting?

We expect you to find that out, Mr. Slate.

Miss Kerm is a member of a cult of Middle Eastern assassins who were

from childhood to kill.

From childhood?

Mm -hmm. Every day from the time they're babies until they're full grown,

they're fed small doses of poison.

until they become immune to it.

But they can poison other people by simply scratching them with their

fingernails.

Deadly, like human snakes.

I really must bear that in mind when I meet Miss Karen.

Yes, Mr. Slate.

You might also bear in mind that her cult is also a subsidiary of Thrush

and is often called upon to do Thrush's dirty work.

Or perhaps I should say dirtier work.

Then Thrush is behind the theft of the formula.

And the murder of Dr. Empora.

Not quite true, Miss Downsend.

Apparently, Thrush Central knew nothing about the theft until after the formula

was stolen.

It would appear this cult Miss Karam belongs to would like to have the

for its own nefarious purposes.

Which are?

Find Miss Karam, and we may find the answer. She has an uncle in Manhattan.

He runs a Persian restaurant, The Open Sesame.

Gwyffin, my dear.

Gwyffin.

Would you mind waiting in the other room, please?

Bring on the next aspirant, please.

Oh, Pearl of Araby, the Dance of the Veils is not meant to be a cross between

the Watusi and the Hula.

Watusi?

Well, I was doing the Dance of the Veils, all seven of them.

Give me another four bars and I'll show you. The moving finger writes, and

having writ, moves on.

Next.

Good afternoon, my friend.

Always a pleasure to see you, Shah.

Could you spare me a few moments in private?

Impossible, dear friend.

I cannot disappoint these little flowers who have come here to audition.

Glad you agree.

Shall we go?

I am the loyal servant of my master.

I'm glad to see you looking so well, Duke.

And I intend to stay that way.

Reset, children.

Mark? Cut and run, love.

Thrush on the way.

So am I.

Duke, baby.

The formula, old pal.

Now that we know about it, Thrush Central wants it.

Needs it.

Since the penalty for refusal is extermination, you give me no choice.

They're going to have trouble with these Easterners.

They're definitely not playing fair with Thrush.

Send a search and see squad to take this place apart.

Always a pleasure.

Find anything?

I think so.

Girl wanted,

female receptionist, 23 years old, must speak ancient Persian.

I'd ski in Kitzbühel.

Same ad in every Berlin newspaper.

No typing.

Short hours and a salary that makes ours look like slave labor.

Obviously, somebody wants one particular girl.

Well,

I ask you, how many 23 -year -old female linguists fluent in ancient Persian are

there in Berlin?

You could be right, love.

Well, of course I'm right.

If I wasn't right, I wouldn't be perfect.

You got the support page there, buddy? How did I just do?

You got to read it yourself, buddy.

We've got a girl to find. Thank you.

We'll be arriving at the Berlin airport in ten minutes. Please fasten your

seatbelts.

Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I'm sure you can see better, Fräulein.

Would you please fasten your seatbelts? Yeah.

Sorry, love, I'm getting a bit jumpy.

Hmm.

Quick draw, McGraw.

She could have slashed your throat if she had a mind to.

I don't think she had a mind to.

Stolen kiss, perhaps?

Oh, we, uh...

We arrive in ten minutes.

But to save time, why don't you go straight to the hotel, and I'll go to

newspaper office and meet you there.

What, and I get to struggle with the heavy luggage again?

I'll reimburse you for the tips.

Hmm.

I have a better idea.

Why don't you let me go to the newspaper office?

Or would you like to meet Miss Callum alone?

Whatever makes you think that.

Remember, her kisses are deadly.

Oh, but so are mine.

So I've heard.

This is the dawn, my children.

You have done well, very well indeed.

But we have a wedding with no bride.

Quickly, find our new queen.

The only living descendant of our dead leader, Cambodisius.

We'll leave Berlin immediately.

You're certain our future queen is there?

She is there.

And she will come to us.

She cannot resist our most generous offer in the newspapers.

Then go.

Find the girl.

With this serum, we will transplant the mad genius of our dead leader

into her brain.

And then we will no longer be forced to bow to Thrush Central.

Thrush Central will bow to us.

Kill them all.

Are you frightened by a handful of ill -manicured barbarians? I think these ill

-manicured barbarians are plotting treason.

I think they intend to eliminate us and take over Thrush. You're exciting

yourself over their childish delusion of grandeur.

Shoot every fifth or perhaps even every fourth one as a persuasion. But kill

them all.

Why not?

Besides a certain quaint charm.

They've been very effective in our eastern operations.

A 92 .4.

Efficiency rating.

Their services would be very difficult to replace.

Then what's your alternative?

Uncover their plan.

Use it for our own purposes.

Any suggestions as to how?

Find the girl.

This girl, who would be queen.

But where?

Berlin. Or can't you read German?

And when you arrive, just yell, Uncle!

Their agents are already there.

Cut.

Miserable.

I ask for performances, I get charades.

This is retake 22.

Do you realize how much film goes through camera in 22 retakes?

This time we'll start with the words.

And I mean the right words for a change, like the script says.

Okay?

Save the lights.

Nobody knows how to die anymore.

You can go to your miserable lunches.

Nothing would satisfy him but real bullets.

never get to be a movie queen with that attitude.

That suits me. I don't want to be queen of anything.

They ran another ad today.

No.

But Greta, it's almost tailored for you. I mean, you don't have to type and you

could easily pass for 23.

I am 23.

And you speak fluent Persian.

Why don't you answer the ad?

I have my reasons.

But all I'm asking for, my very pretty miss, is for a piece of information.

Who placed the advertisement in your newspaper, and whom do I see about it?

If you will read most carefully, sir, and notice I stress the sir, the ad

specifically points out female and age 23.

I scarcely think you qualify on either count.

But I'm inquiring for my wife. She's 23, reads Persian fluently, and couldn't

type her way out of a paper bag. Well, bring her in, now, doctor.

my Persian land.

I'll catch you.

A German elevator.

It got stuck between two floors of the hotel.

Oh, come on.

And now, young lady, perhaps we can get a little information concerning this

advertisement. Your wife?

Wife.

Fifth anniversary last week. Most beautiful 18 -year -old bride you ever

with the veil, headdress. You know these Middle Eastern shindigs.

You are 23 now?

Yes. And you speak ancient Persian?

Like a student from Teheran U.

From which, incidentally, she graduated.

Oh. Cum laude.

Yeah? Except for her typing, which, as I previously mentioned, was atrocious.

And her shorthand, forget it.

Twenty -three.

As of my last birthday.

Which was?

April 1st.

And no remarks about April fools, please.

For time.

Wrong date.

You must be born on September 13th.

Why are they superstitious?

It is one of the requirements of the position.

But there must be some mistake.

Yes, yours.

Oh, your mother's April 1st is not September 13th.

You were, how do you say, premature.

Yes, may I help you, miss?

You ran an ad in your Help Wanted for a girl?

We run many ads, which in particular?

The Persian girl, I mean, who speaks ancient Persian.

Age 23.

You're here to answer the ad.

No, not me, sir. Not me. But you're inquiring about the job.

For a friend.

I'm inquiring for a friend. What's her name?

Where is she? We must find her. But fast, girl. It's a matter of life and

Greta Wolf.

At the studio.

But I don't think I should tell you... Let's go find Greta.

You can't do this!

Stage 10.

Okay, you go find her. I'll play decoy. Go.

Right, go.

This is great.

Cut.

What's going on?

I want action.

I ask for action.

I pay for action. I want to see action.

This time we'll start like the script says.

Okay?

Action!

Cleaners?

Super.

What is this?

You are going to do it until you do it right.

Okay.

Where have you been?

Oh, just riding around.

Is that the girl?

Greta Wolf?

You are the girl they've been advertising for.

You're from them.

We're uncle agents.

You're from the cult of Cambodises.

Help?

That is not in the script.

Who's not living out there?

No company.

All right.

Who did it?

Count Scamadice.

Who was padding their part?

If I wanted help in the script, I would have put it in.

I didn't write the script coming down in a streetcar, you know.

Have they ever seen you?

No, my mother escaped from the cult before I was born.

Mark, stay close to me.

I will. I must meet with Karen.

I'm sorry, Herr Director.

What is your name?

Greta Wolf.

Greta Wolf.

You are fired!

Go write your own scripts!

Well, there goes your career unless you change your name.

I don't understand.

I don't have time to explain.

You're a margin.

You do not feel so well, yeah?

I do not understand what is happening.

You say you are uncle agents?

But this girl with you, why does she say she is me?

It's a long story.

April, where is she?

They took her, the people from the cult of Cambodises.

Which way did they go?

They went that way.

One moment, Mr. Slate. It's Mr. Slate, sir. He's trying to locate Miss Dancer.

So are we, Mr. Slate.

Where are you now?

I'm still at the studio, sir.

We found the girl that Thrash was looking for, but unfortunately I've lost

Dancer.

Lost her? How?

She was kidnapped by the Count of Cambodises. They mistook her for the

girl, but I don't know where they've taken her.

Most unfortunate.

Well, now...

Be ready to move quickly in any direction.

The Berlin airport will be your best base of operation under the

Berlin airport, yes, sir.

I'm sorry, this has to be a quick hello and goodbye, Miss Wolfe.

But do that.

Wait.

I'll feed it then.

I'll feed it then.

Any contact, Mr. Kovacs?

No, sir, none.

Do you think Miss Dancer might have lost the homing device?

It's possible.

Or maybe she just forgot to activate it.

Even more probable.

Obviously, she's lost her communicator, or she'd have been in touch by now.

Where would they be taking her, sir, this cult?

Somewhere in this vicinity, I should think.

Anything to suit your pleasure only awaits your command.

Her Majesty is not yet immune. Do not touch her without gloves.

By all means, handle My Majesty with care.

Mr. Slade, where are you?

Berlin Airport. Ready to board any plane you suggest, sir.

Well, I would suggest... They're over Beirut, sir. Still heading east.

Baghdad. From there, we'll let you know.

Yes, sir.

Could I charter a private plane?

Well, at least Miss Dancer is still alive. That's something, sir.

Yes, that's something, all right.

What will happen when they find out Miss Dancer isn't a real descendant of this

Cambodisus guy?

Well, all probability is they won't find out until they've administered the

formula to Miss Dancer.

If it should go that far.

But not being a direct descendant, that would kill her, sir.

Unfortunately, that possibility exists.

The research lab hopes these things are claw -proof.

Hopes? They carry the same guarantee as the parachutes. Oh.

If they don't work, you get another one for nothing.

any report from Miss Dancer?

No, sir. Nothing since we lost contact on the homing device.

Well, at least we know approximately where the plane landed.

Mr. Slate has all the information.

With any luck at all, he should be able to locate her before anything happens to

her.

Gee, I sure hope so, sir.

So do I.

It'll be quite lonely here.

Without Mr. Downsend to brighten up the place?

Let me know as soon as you get a report.

Wait, sir.

It's Mr.

Slate reporting in.

Slate here.

We're outside the tomb of Cambodici.

Quite a sight. There are thousands of people headed for the tomb.

No time to talk.

We'll contact you the moment we get any word on April.

Well, uh... He's gone.

Quite frankly, I'm beginning to feel a bit worried about that girl.

Pilgrim, bearing gift to the new queen.

Such simple loyalty rather chokes one up, doesn't it?

Shall we crash the party?

Time has come for our revered founder to leave his resting place and to return

to us in all his power.

Our queen will break the great seal of death.

It's a shame to disturb him.

Free him.

Fire at my command.

Help.

We're that better odds in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Small world.

The girl from Uncle.

Change tactics, go back to friendly attitudes.

We may need her.

How dare you enter the presence of our queen with threatening guns.

Threatening guns, my dear Iman Abbas. Why are we always misunderstanding each

other? I'm here as the thrush ambassador of goodwill.

They're simply an honor guard.

How stupid of me. I thought you were doubting our loyalty again.

Why should I doubt it? You've already promised to give us the formula.

After we reincarnate Cambodises?

Of course.

Now, may I pay my homage to your new queen?

Humble servant, your majesty.

How charming.

How regal.

When is the transplantation of Campodices to take place?

Immediately after the coronation.

Your majesty, may I wish you a long and fruitful reign.

birth to the altar of evil with the crown of our cult we acknowledge the

sovereignty of our new queen Simina and the eternal life of Cambodia

long live the queen

As cases support the roof, that's your best bet.

Mine?

Somebody's got to look after April.

Have you ever actually done this transplantation yourself?

I watched Dr.

Ampura do it many times.

Between observation and practice, there is a wide gap.

I hope for your sake you fill it successfully.

She is dead.

Thank you. Thank you.

She was not of direct descendancy. She was miserable. But you, my friend, are

losing your cool.

The princess has served us well.

Give her an honored burial.

Now, I am ready.

Bring in the queen.

Uncle is killing our queen!

Definitely brought down the house.

Hello?

Hi.

Guess what?

Pentecost time, little Joe.

Pentecost.

You're thinking?

Oh, dear me, does it show?

Show? I can hear it.

I must be more careful, I must, I must.

Well, let's have it. Have what?

Your thoughts.

Well, I was thinking, supposing Miss Caron had actually succeeded in the

operation.

Hmm? And the evil genius of Cambodices was transplanted in your brain.

That is a thought.

What kind of really big evil thing would you do?

Well, first I'd have to let my fingernails grow.

What else?

What other evil thing?

Well, Mark, darling.

There are so many absolutely magnificent and deliciously evil things to do. I

don't know where to start.

For example?

Well,

I would destroy that ugly little hat.

Oh, no, not that.

Burn your little black book. Stop it, stop it, stop it. And reduce you to a

liquid diet of this.

You are evil, you are, you are.

Actually, you...

I have been enjoying our coffees here quite often lately, haven't you?

Yes, but it's not the coffee, actually. The service is somewhat improved, don't

you think?

Thank you, sir.

You are very welcome.