All language subtitles for Digman! - S01E02 - Et Tu

Iguana jerky?

-No, thanks.
-You sure?

It's a rare

-and cantankerous delicacy.
-I'm good.

Well, I got plenty
of different varieties

in my billfold, if that's what

floats your apple. Let's see.

Ostrich, cicada,
I got dolphin,

albino dolphin, porpoise,

albino porpoise,
tarantula, Bunnicula,

-fuckin' emu.
-I'm fine, thank you.

Suit yourself, Saltine.
More for me.

[munching]

Oop, that one's not
cured all the way through.

[chuckling]:
That's good luck, though.

And now back to this
week's Arky Rankings.

RIP:
Ooh, turn it up.

Coming in at number one:
Zane Troy,

fresh off his triumphant hire

by Quail Eegan.

I don't have a son,
but if I did,

I'd throw him away
and make Zane my son.

And I would go along with that,
no matter the emotional fallout.

One person not appearing
on the Arky Rankings:

Rip Digman. Just thought
I'd mention that.

Moving on to our next story:

Santa Claus has announced

that he will be participating

in No Nut November.

Well, pickle shit.

Oh, don't worry, Rip,
he'll blow a load in December.

Not that, the Arky Rankings.

12 years ago, I was number one,

and now I can't even crack 'em.

You know, you'll never
make the rankings

if you keep passing on
every job that comes in.

Well, the only
job offers I'm getting

are from little
rinky-dink museums.

New job offer just came in, Rip.

Let me guess,
some rinky-dink museum?

Yeah, it's rinky and,
from what I can tell,

dinky, too. You want me to pass?

Rip, before you
say no, just listen:

I have formulated
a five-point plan

to get you back
atop the rankings,

and step number one
is to successfully complete

a small-time job.

Well, what are the other steps?

I didn't want to spoil it,

but step four is a makeover.

Well, I like that.

Of course you do.
My plan will work.

Just trust me.

[echoing]:
Trust me.

You won't regret hiring me

as your assistant. Trust me.

Consider this my resignation.

Bella! I will not let you die!

-I'll never trust you, Zane!
-Whoa, okay.

I learned my lesson about

blindly trusting an assistant.

Agatha, tell that
rinky-dink museum

to make like
Christopher McCandless

-and take a hike.
-The Into the Wild guy?

Yeah, do you have a problem

with what I said, Saltine?

He famously took a hike.
I'm halfway through that book,

-and the guy is all about hikes.
-Actually, Rip,

you know how you've
got that snake terrarium?

Because they're my
favorite animal, yeah, go on.

And the snakes
require heat lamps.

Because they're
ectothermic, yes. Continue.

Well, those lamps
use a lot of power,

and we're way behind
on our bills,

so you should take
the job because

we desperately need the money.

Okay, fine. I'll do it
for my beloved snakes.

So what's the job?

Welcome to
the Museum of Confetti.

The only museum dedicated to

indistinguishable
little scraps of paper.

Oh, man.

So, this one is from
the London Olympics'

opening ceremony, and this one
is from the closing ceremony.

Wait, that's the closing,
and this is the opening.

I'm sorry. I feel
so ashamed right now.

-Kind of wish I could die.
-Oh, no.

Anyways, I was hoping
you could help me find

a piece of the most historically
significant confetti ever.

I didn't know
confetti had a history.

-Please share.
-[groans]

PETEY:
Hundreds of years ago in Ital,

it was a young boy's birthday,

but his family
couldn't afford any gifts.

So the boy sat alone,
wishing for a miracle,

when someone
emptied their trash,

filled with
small pieces of paper,

out the window above him.

-♪ La-la-la-la-la... ♪
-His prayers were answered,

and confetti was born.

On the dark web,
I came across a tip

as to the location of
one of the original pieces.

It says it's hidden
near the Rialto Bridge,

but I can't go to Italy.

Who would sing
to my confetti at night?

-[groans]
-Five-point plan.

Fine, yes, we're in.
Swooper, gas up the plane.

We're headed to Venice, Italy.

Plane's already gassed up.

If I add any more,
it will explode.

Is that what you want?
'Cause I swear to God,

I'll do it, Rip.
I'll do anything for you, man!

RIP: Well, seems like
Petey's tip was a bust,

and that stupid piece of
paper's nowhere to be found.

What are you getting
up to over there?

The confetti may not be
on the bridge,

but it could be in the bridge.

I noticed an opening, so I'm
having Fleety look inside.

We can watch with
my newest cool invention:

The FleetyCam.

RIP:
Oh, yeah, look at that.

SALTINE:
That must be it. Go, Fleety.

RIP:
Oh. Oh, God.

Fleety, watch out! What the...?

Fleety? How did you...?

The video's on
a 30-second delay.

Would you have
preferred a live feed?

Yeah, of course.

I mean, little anticlimactic.

Kind of wanted to see
how Fleety got out of that.

Nice work, buddy.
Here's your treat.

[snorts, sighs]

Well, there it is, whoop-de-doo,

a boring piece of confetti
that nobody cares about.

-Confetti?
-Confetti?

Did somebody say "confetti"?

CROWD:
♪ Confetti, confetti ♪

♪ Confetti,
confetti, confetti. ♪

Confetti!

Wow, I guess people here

really do love confetti.

Hold on, there's something
written on this.

[tires screech]

They've got the confetti.

RIP:
Guys, I love the hat,

but I think it's too long.

[tires screech]

[both gasp]

MAN:
Welcome, Rip Digman.

What the hell is going on here?

We are the descendants
of Julius Caesar,

and my name is Cale.
Cale Caesar.

But before you say anything,
I've heard all the jokes.

And I love them,

so if you'd like to
make any, I am all ears.

Uh, your name
sounds like a salad?

[laughs]

I actually hadn't
heard that one before.

[laughs]
Wow, you went right at it.

We are known
as the Little Caesars.

And, yes, I've heard
all the jokes.

Those ones, I don't like.

Seems arbitrary,
but humor is subjective.

We will stop at nothing
to return the Caesars to power.

For years we have been searching

for the world's original
batch of confetti

because it is actually
a torn-up map

leading to one of Italy's
greatest lost treasures.

The knife Brutus used
to kill Caesar.

Ah, shit.

CALE: Legend has it
that the knife is cursed,

and anyone who holds it

is overcome by the desire
to kill their boss.

Just like Brutus did to Caesar.

CALE:
Many have sought the knife to

exploit its power,
so, hundreds of years ago,

the great Venetian
mapmaker Fra Mauro

hid the knife

and drew a map to its location.

But when evildoers closed in

on Fra Mauro,
he tore up the map,

scattering the pieces
to the wind.

-[Fra grunts]
-♪ La-la-la-la ♪

♪ La-la-la-la-la. ♪

The writing on the back,
that's why you grabbed us.

We found the final piece.

Precisely. The map
is now complete,

but there's no "X"
marking the knife's location,

just a Latin riddle

that you will help us solve.

And why would we help you?

Because if you don't,

you'll find yourself
at the bottom of a canal.

-With scuba equipment on?
-No.

-Damn it.
-GIRL: Lunch is here.

Okay, I've got a Caesar salad.

-That's me.
-And I've got a Caesar salad.

-That's mine.
-GIRL: A make-your-own salad

with romaine,
anchovies, parmesan,

-croutons, Caesar dressing.
-Oh, that's... Hey, that's mine.

You guys want any salad?

And they stole
the map and escaped.

[sighs] I feel like
that's on all of us.

You know, I mean, honestly,
who escapes anymore? Just stay.

Now, this is more like it.
If we find the knife

that killed Caesar, I'll make
the Arky Rankings for sure.

And that will solve
all my problems forever.

Aren't you worried
about the knife's curse?

Oh, Saltine, there's
no way this knife is cursed.

People want to kill their bosses

every day.

Hell, you probably want to

kill me right now.
But don't, though.

-I don't want to kill you.
-Yeah, you say that,

because you need job security,

but we both know
you'd kill me in an instant

if given an opportunity.
Now, all we have to do

is solve this riddle,
and, luckily,

I know just the new character.

Rip Digman?

Oh, sorry, it's not

that I'm shocked to
see you, I'm just clumsy.

A bit of an olive oil fingers,
if you take my meaning.

Saltine, meet Professor McEwan,

my old Italian
history professor,

and an absolutely primo,
grade A, male mentor.

-Grappa?
-No, thanks.

-10:15 a.m.
-Well, it's 5:00 somewhere.

Not if it's 10:15?

Right, so let's take
a look at this map.

-[glass shatters]
-Whoop. My bad. So, the map...

Not sure if I mentioned this,

I'm a bit of
an olive oil fingers.

-Yeah, you did.
-That's the Italian version...

Of a butterfingers.
Right, I get it.

Great, then you understand.
Moving on.

Fascinating.

Seems like this phrase
may be a clue.

"Flavo pila credere in."

That's Latin for
"Trust in the sun."

Perhaps sunlight will
reveal a hidden message.

Ah, nothing.

Let's think.

if I were Fra Mauro,
what would I do?

Well, I'd change my name
first, that's for sure.

[both laugh]

You are the funniest person

I've ever met. Bar none.

Now, how to solve this riddle.

Can I try? I'm pretty good
at cracking those things.

[echoing]:
Cracking those.

-[groans] Damn these eggs.
-Can I try?

I'm pretty good at
cracking those things.

No way, Zane! I don't want
your help, you backstabber!

Whoa, Rip, you're clearly

projecting your issues
with Zane onto me.

Well, I'm sorry, Saltine,
but I have trauma.

You can't argue with trauma.
Are you unsympathetic to trauma?

Uh, Saltine, perhaps we should
give Rip a moment here.

My assistant Roberto
would be more than happy

to show you around
our beautiful city.

At your service.

Why don't you come
with me, amica?

[chuckles]

Um, yes, please.

And that is what happens

when the moon hits your eye.
But enough astronomy talk.

This is really lovely, Roberto.

Oh, for me, it's my pleasure.

To stroll with a beautiful
woman such as yourself,

it made my armpits,
um, how you say, uh,

wet and scented.

What a great way
of putting that.

May I, uh, remove?

[Saltine laughs]

"I'm with Stupid" in Latin?

That's so clever.

You're a fellow Latin lover?

Oh, Mamma mia, yes.

It is my one true passion.

I-I wish it was
a living language still.

Me, too. I could talk
about it "ad nauseam."

[laughs]

And yet, Saltina,
I feel I could never reach

"nauseam" with you.

Ergo, I'd like to show you
my Venice. Will you allow me?

Well, "carpe diem," right?

Saltina, I love you.

Whoa. Okay, rad. Thanks.

To me, this is
the most romantic sight

in all of Venezia. Via!

[gasps] Is that

an imperfect subjunctive
contrafactual condition?

Yes.

[both moaning]

Thank you for an
incredible day, Roberto.

It's so beautiful here.

Made more beautiful

by you. [groans]

-You okay there, Roberto?
-Mm-hmm.

'Cause it seems like
you thought you could

just take a big bite
of a lemon

like it would be no big deal.

No, it tastes very good.

If that's what happened, it's
fine, we're still gonna smash.

It just seems weird
you wouldn't be honest.

Mmm. You know, lemons

were a rare treat
in ancient Italy,

reserved only for the wealthy.

[Roberto laughs weakly]

[gasps]

We've got to get
back to the manor.

Hey, what are you doing?
You're gonna ruin the map.

No, I'm not.
Your translation was wrong.

It wasn't "Trust in the sun,"

it was "Trust
in the yellow ball,"

which is what your average
person called lemons

in ancient Italy
because they were so rare.

And lemon juice can
be used as an acid developer

to make invisible
phenolphthalein inks visible

like so.

Easy-peasy,

lemon-squeezy.

St. Mark's Piazza, that's
where the knife is hidden.

Holy authentic Italian cannoli.

-You've done it.
-[glass shatters]

Oh, I think I should
just go for it

and get all rubber
everything, right?

You'd be selling yourself
short not to. Yeah.

-Do you know a rubber monger?
-Not locally.

-But back home?
-Yeah.

If Rip gives you my email,
will you send me

your rubber monger's info?

Of course, but just so you know,

he's in Temecula until Thursday.

It's his aunt and uncle's
40th anniversary.

The anniversary was
actually last year,

but Don hurt his foot,
so they couldn't celebrate.

-Don is the uncle.
-What is Don's wife's name?

-Kathleen.
-Kathleen and Don

actually met a few blocks away

from where the party
is being held.

-Is that so?
-But Kathleen was with

Gary Delvecchio back then,
so she and Don

didn't start dating
until a few months later.

In fact, he wanted
to come to the anniversary,

but he's staying
in Chicago because

it's his granddaughter Jessica's

seventh birthday party.

-It's pony-themed.
-Which, yes,

was also her friend
Madison's birthday theme.

Ah, well, please send Madison
and her family my best.

Will do.

[sighs] This place
is crawling with Little Caesars.

Why don't you guys
check the basilica,

and we'll meet back up at...

Uh, let's see,
what time is it now?

Great Caesar's ghost.

That clock hand, it's the knife.

Hidden in plain sight.

Just like Waldo
in the Where's Waldo? novels.

Or the Bible verse on the bottom

of a Forever 21 bag.

Now, here's the plan.
You'll climb the clocktower...

-Oh, is that it?
-Yup, that's the whole thing.

[panting]

[groans]

How it's looking down there?

Don't worry,
no one's "clocked" you,

pun absolutely intended.

Everyone is just buried
in their phones.

It's sad when you
think about it.

No way, fuck that.
I love my phone.

Push that shit on someone else.

Almost... got... it.

[screams]

Who am I,

Harold Lloyd in Safety Last!?

-Anyway, I'm in huge trouble!
-[both gasp]

[gasps]

[grunts]

Woo-hoo!

Who am I, Hudson Hawk?

Uh, I would describe that as

Hudson Hawk meets Harold Lloyd.

-Thank you.
-[laughs]

So, Saltine,
you're holding the knife.

Is it cursed?

I am your boss.

Does it make you
want to kill me?

Fine. It's just a normal knife.

Well, I guess all's well

-that ends...
-It's them.

-Over there.
-Shit!

Okay, this piazza
is famously full of pigeons.

We run straight at them,
and when they take flight,

they'll hide us in a canopy
of wings and feathers.

Sounds good, let's go!

[all panting]

[crunching]

-They're not flying!
-Why won't they fly?

We're just crunching them.

I can hear their tiny,
brittle bones beneath my feet.

Oh, God, I think
I just curbed one.

-Are we going to hell for this?
-ROBERTO: Oh, no, no!

I have now killed,
like, 4,000 pigeons.

I will never not
feel them under my feet.

And we're leaving a perfect
pigeon carcass path

for the Caesars to follow.

It's disgusting
and hurting our cause.

Okay, new plan. Jump!

[groans]

Well, at least the canal water

washed off the pigeon blood.

And then she walked in
with her perfect figure:

30-30-30, a total tube.

-[phone rings]
-Yello?

Swooper, we're in
the canal by St. Mark's.

Get a gondola and get us fast.

On my way, Rippy.

Sorry that my five-point plan

might get us killed, Rip.

Are you kidding me?

This is the good stuff.

I haven't been
this happy in years.

Really? Wow. So, I guess

you could say trusting me
was a good call.

[echoing]:
Good call.

Hey, Zane, what do you
think of this turkey call?

[gobbling]

[whistles] Good call.

No, I'm not falling
for that again.

I'll never trust you. [cries]

Come on, Swooper, where are you?

One gondola, please.

You need a license
to rent a gondola.

But getting one is no easy task.

The training is rigorous.

It will test you.
It will break you.

And it will cost you

60 euros.

Welcome to...

Top Gondola.

♪ ♪

Gentlemen, look around you.

Someone in this
classroom will die

before the training is over.

[grunting]

Rule number one:
Never drop your oar.

[crowd cheers]

[singsongy]:
I don't hear singing.

[singing in Italian]

♪ ♪

This is wrong.
You are my teacher.

Yee-haw!

Time for your greatest test:

the Quick Stop.

Guppy, you're up first.

[singing in Italian]

Guppy, there's a whirlpool!

Quick stop, Guppy!

Guppy! No...!

Is Papà in heaven, Mamma?

Sì. Papà è in paradiso.

TEACHER:
What do you mean you quit?

You haven't even mastered
the Quick Stop yet.

We can't give you
a license until you do.

I'm sorry, Denise. I can't.

Hey, man.

You were the best of us.

[sniffs]

So you got your license?

-Oh, yeah.
-Okay, here you go.

Somebody order a gondola?

♪ Barcarola... ♪

Swooper, what are
you doing? Shut up.

I'm a gondolier, Rip,
I got to sing.

You're gonna attract
too much attention.

I'll attract more attention
if I don't sing.

There's nothing more suspicious
than a silent gondolier.

I don't care. Put a sock in it.

Over there.
That gondolier isn't singing.

-It's them.
-Told you.

[squawks]

[grunting]

They have Jet Skis?

Nothing a little NOS
can't outrun.

[cheering]

-That's how you do it.
-[dolphin squeaking]

-H-hey, look, it's a dolphin.
-[cheering]

[laughs]

-Oh, no, a shark ate it!
-[booing]

[cheering]

SALTINE:
A big dolphin ate the shark!

[screaming]

-There are rapids in Venice?
-Yes.

Oh, my God, Swooper, stop.

Swooper, what the hell
are you doing? Stop!

This is for you, Guppy.

[shouts]

[men screaming]

Incredible work, Swooper.

Thanks. I'm gonna go
return the gondola.

Well, that worked out great.

And now for an epic selfie

with my phone, which I love.

-Saltine, hold this a sec.
-Okay.

-Okay.
-Oh, no, you don't, Zane.

You'd stab me with it.

You know that's not true.
I was holding it earlier.

You were joking about it.

Doesn't matter, I have trauma.

Roberto, here, you hold it.

Sure thing.

[laughs]

What's so funny, Roberto?

Are you remembering
a Latin meme?

-Can you share?
-Mi scusi.

I am laughing because

I have the knife now.

Roberto, you're betraying us?

I trusted you.

Wait, so you've been undercover,

working for and sleeping
with Professor McEwan

-just to look for the knife?
-Wait, sleeping with?

That's right. I tricked you.

And soon I'll explain why.

[both gasp]

I'm sorry, not to harp on this.
You were sleeping with McEwan?

Yes, but you are focusing
on the wrong thing. But yes.

Roberto, no.
Was it all just a lie?

What about the seven
times we had amazing sex?

What about the time we started,
but then you slipped out,

and then we heard people coming
so we decided to just call it?

Been there.

None of it was a lie, Saltina.

When I said I loved you
45 seconds after meeting you,

I meant it.

But there is more
you should know about me.

I am actually
the deputy vice president

of Italy's Ministry
of Education,

meaning I am third in line
to rule as secretary.

But when I place the dagger
in the hands of the man

who is second in line,
he will kill his boss,

then be arrested,
leaving the education throne

to be assumed by me,

and then I shall once
more make Latin

the national language of Italy!

I realize you have
the upper hand,

but it's a weird plan.

-It's not weird.
-The knife isn't even cursed,

genius. You saw it yourself.

Oh, it's cursed all right.

You just hadn't activated it.

Veni ad vitam,
cultrum mirabilis.

Aw, shit, it's glowing red.
Yeah, it's cursed.

So, what,
you're just gonna kill us?

On the contrary, I want
to rule this new empire

with you by my side.
But as for Rip?

He will die.

-By your hand.
-No, I-I can't.

Why not? He doesn't trust you.

He can't even speak Latin.

Tell me, Saltine.
Where's the lie?

I mean, sure,

that is all true.

Give me the knife.

What? Saltine, no.

I thought we had
a good thing going.

This won't hurt a bit, boss.

Trust me.

Aw, crap.

Is this curtains for me?

I'm about to be fitted for

a pine overcoat, aren't I?

I don't want to pay Charon's fee

and shake hands with Elvis.

You're telling me I'm gonna be

promoted to Glory? No way.

[both shout]

And now that
he's definitely dead,

I can fulfill my destiny

-as the...
-I'm back.

-[both grunt]
-[bones crack]

[chuckles] Saltine,

you remembered the jerky.

-I did.
-That was amazing.

[both laugh, sigh]

So... you kill people?

It would appear so, yeah.

-Huh.
-Truth be told,

this was my first time.

[chuckles]
I'm actually having...

having a little trouble with it.

Oh, my God, what have I done?!

His life! I snuffed it out!

He'll never have
another birthday!

But he was gonna kill us,
right? I had no choice.

You saw, he was evil.
Oh, shit, I'm gonna boot.

Oh, no.

He slipped on a rock! You saw!

Oh, God, he had
a mother, Saltine!

[sobs] Oh, fuck.

I'm a piece of shit,
I'm a fucking piece of shit!

So it's agreed, we'll never
talk about that again.

Yup, you got it.
So, are you excited

to make the Arky Rankings
this week, Rip?

-The knife makes it a sure bet.
-Indeed, 'twould be nice.

But I think it will be
many moons longer still.

-What do you mean?
-It's the unwritten

arky code, Saltine.

We can't give a cursed
object to a museum,

for it will always be
targeted by ne'er-do-wells.

I am just happy
returning the confetti.

That was step one
of your five-point plan,

and I trust your plan.

Perfect, time for
step two: Making amends.

Fuck that. I'm out.

Ouch!

Come to papa.