All language subtitles for Daria - S03E11 - The Lawndale File

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

- Settle down, young people.

Now, before the varsity
interpretive dance team

begins its performance,
history, we are you,

we have a brief announcement
from some special guests,

agents...

- No names.
- No credentials.

- Students, we'll be brief.

We've received some disturbing
reports from this school,

and we're asking
for your cooperation.

- Keep your eyes open.

Watch for people
who are different.

They know who they are.

And with your help, kids,
so will we.

- Different, eh?

Mm, I wonder what I get
if I turn you in?

- More free time to spend
with Kevin and Brittany.

- Curse you different ones
and your insidious logic.

- From outer space
to in our face!

Aliens walk among us!

A sick, sad world exclusive.

- Oh, look, they're gonna
explain the return of disco.

- The aliens aren't coming.

They're already here.

They could be your friends,
your family.

They act almost normal,
but something's off.

- Yes, the TV.

If there were any aliens
smart enough to come here,

they wouldn't be stupid enough
to come here.

- There goes my trick ear again.

What was that?

- Let's say I'm an alien
and you're you.

- Part of this
better be hypothetical.

- Now, why would I,

a being from the highly
advanced planet zippotron,

travel light-years
just to take over your body

and go to high school?

- Because Wednesday's
jell-o day?

- Exactly.

Wouldn't it make more sense

to rig up some remote system
of control?

Neck implants or something?

Then they could
make you do stuff,

like go to the mall
or think about hair,

without actually having
to do it themselves.

Makes more sense than
a full-scale infiltration.

- Oh, yes,
much, much more sense.

- All right, then.
- What is that music?

- I don't know.

It's been going on
for two days now.

- You don't know how much
I want you to tell me

that isn't Trent playing.

- You don't know how much
I wish I could.

- Hmm, maybe there's something

to your remote control theory
after all.

- Come on, daria.

Something interesting
must have happened yesterday.

- Mm... nope.

- How about that friend
of yours?

What's new with her?

- Not much.

- What about the newspaper?

Read anything interesting
there lately?

- Hmm, I did see an article
by an efficiency expert

who claims one
really intense conversation

with your child over breakfast

is worth a whole week
of unfocused parenting.

Did you catch that article?

- Well... how about TV?

Seen anything good recently?

- Just the usual crazy guy

claiming aliens
are walking our streets.

- Well, of course they are.

Many of them can't afford a car.

No shame in that.

- Hmm... what?

- I'll get it.

Jake, keep up the momentum.
- 10-4.

Heck, daria,
your mother's right.

We were all aliens at one point
or another, right, kiddo?

- Helloo?

- We were all aliens?

- Quinn, telephone!

- I'll take it up here!

- Why didn't she come down
for breakfast?

Daria, is anything wrong
with Quinn?

- If this weren't a school day,

I might have the time
to begin answering that.

- Morning.
- Morning, sunshine.

- Why, look at your hat.

- What's with the new look,
daddy-o?

- New look?
What new look?

I'm dressed like I am every day,
more or less.

- Neck implants or something?

Makes more sense than
a full-scale infiltration.

- Well, of course they are.

Many of them can't afford a car.

- We were all aliens
at one point or another.

Right, kiddo?

- You know that spending
too much time with your family

makes you hear voices.

Get out.

Well, me, oh, my,
look at the time.

I'd better get to school.

Bye.

- Well, that was odd.

Quinn, is anything wrong
with daria?

- If this weren't a school day,
I might have the time--

- it's not like her to act so
prejudiced against immigrants.

- What?

- All of a sudden,
she doesn't like aliens.

- Who does?

Aliens impregnate you,

and then they pop out
of your chest and kill you

while you're trying
to eat lunch.

What's to like?

Gotta go.
Bye.

- What exactly are they teaching
about immigration

at that school?

- I don't know, honey.

But that sounds
like a fascinating topic

for a discussion!

- Oh, Jake, give it up.

- No, I'm not saying Quinn's
an evil space creature.

- Oh, go ahead.
It sounds so cool.

- I just think it's strange

that she's suddenly
covering up her neck.

- When was the last time you saw
Kevin without his neck thing?

- You're talking implants?

- I heard that,
and it's not true!

- I guess she thought you meant
her ufos.

- Ufos?
Brr.

Have you two been watching
the x files?

I know I have.

- And that's good.

- But you know
what's interesting?

- Why do you encourage him?

- All this creepy
science fiction

is just a throwback
to the old cold war paranoia.

- Aliens in the sky,
communists under the bed.

- Exactly, daria.

And accusations flying,
all because of atomic jitters.

You're a communist.

You're an alien.

- Trade you Cuba for Jupiter.

- One stood for the other
in those old movies.

- Now tell us about the time
before microwave popcorn.

- Oh, gosh,
does that take me back.

- Quinn, if you refuse
to explain your strange outfit,

I'm afraid the fashion club will
have to consider sanctions.

- I'll tell you later,
I promise.

I swear it's not
an anti-fashion statement.

- Very well, but we have only
your word to go on.

- Hey, Quinn, Mr. O'Neill
says that girl from your house

is an atomic communist.

- Yeah,
and her friend's an alien.

- Ew.
- Gross.

- I knew it.

It's just like I thought

when they made us have
pep rallies for field hockey.

We're being invaded
by communists.

Bro, daria and Jane
are communists

planted here by the government
to wreck team sports.

- Remember that game
when you fell on your head?

Remember how you thought
Vince lombardi

was sending you plays
from hell?

- Heaven, bro.

Vince lombardi
did not go to hell.

- But if Quinn's cousin's
an atomic communist from Mars,

shouldn't she have
a more interesting outfit?

- Stop it, Tiffany!
You're scaring me!

- Sorry.

- Yeah, yeah, I heard it, too.

- Two of my favorite
luscious ladies

out to enslave earth males
and end gym class?

Someone's been reading
my dreams.

- A lot of weirdness
around here lately.

- Yeah, I won't be sorry
to see this day end.

- You say that every day.

- Oh, yeah.

- Although this one
was especially strange,

but the worst is over now.

- Remove these restraints!

Governmental thugs!

This isn't stalingrad!

- You're damn right, pal,
and it isn't gonna be.

- You can't do this.

I'm an educator!

- Say it again.

It only makes it easier.

- Um, the worst is over now?

- Don't bet on it.

- Quinn, I'm so happy
you're still one of us.

- Really.

- Well, god, Stacy,
what did you think?

- Quinn's right, Stacy.

- Just because she was acting
completely weird

and not confiding in her
dearest, most loyal friends

is no reason to decide

she'd finally given up her sad
charade and revealed herself

as a two-faced, little--

um, let's resume discussing...
Plaids... Later.

- Plaids?

- Yes, Stacy, plaids.

- Okay, plaids.

- I'll see you to the door

and, you know, open it
and stuff.

- Quinn, I'm so happy
you're still one of us.

- Would you stop
with the voices already?

- Come on, not even aliens
would give the planet

to the fashion club.

You're getting paranoid.

- I'm not talking about aliens.

But there's something out there,
something stupid.

- You get rattled too easily.

By the way, can you come over
here right now?

I'm really scared.

- I see.

And to what do I owe
this mood swing?

- It's Trent's song.

You gotta listen and tell me
if it's getting more cheerful.

- Now who's paranoid?

- Come on, I'll order a pizza.

And don't tell your folks
where you're going.

I don't want your mother
getting all... Motherly.

- Hey, kiddo.
Going out?

- Yeah, I'm going for, um...
A power walk.

- A power walk?

Helen, Helen, it's daria!

She just went for a walk!

- That's encouraging.

- Encouraging?
Don't you see?

Daria's turning wholesome,
and Quinn's a beatnik!

What's going on?

- Well, it's simple.

They've switched personalities.

- They have?

- It's a joke, Jake.
Jeez!

- Oh, Quinn!
Hi, honey!

Say, your mother and I
couldn't help noticing

that you and daria
have been acting a little...

Different lately.

Is there anything
we should know?

- Uh, let me think.

Today Mr. O'Neill said that
daria is some kind of communist

and she's out to destroy
the American way of life.

Okay, I'm going to sandi's.
Bye!

- Oh, my god!

Did you hear that?

- Oh, Jake, that man O'Neill
has a screw loose.

Besides, communists like
downtrodden aliens.

- I remember now.

He said she was
an atomic communist.

Okay, see ya.

Gak!
An atomic communist?

- Jake, if you want,
I'll call that Mr. Demartino.

He's a bit high-strung,

but he's a fixture
at that school,

and he can tell us
if anything odd is happening.

- Oh, yeah, and Mr. Demartino
was led off in handcuffs.

Toodle-oo!

- God!
Guh! Gah! Geh! Guh!

- Oh, my.

- Come on, now.

Aliens don't hide in the bushes.

It's probably just a stalker.

Yes, a stalker out to plant
a teen in a shallow grave.

Perfectly normal.

I feel much better now.

- But, kevie.

Kevie!
- Huh?

- Didn't you say we were gonna
follow her

and save the world and stuff?

- Oh, yeah, but, um...

I don't think we have to save
the world right this second.

- Great!

Que apasionato.

Hey, we're trying
to save the world here!

- And I'm trying to find
the space maidens' ship

so they can take me back
and make me their love slave.

- Oh, cool.

- Well, you were right.

Everyone has gone crazy.

- I knew you'd try something,
Kevin.

I figured I owed it to the team

to keep you
from humiliating yourself.

Mr. O'Neill?

Don't tell me you're
hunting communists too.

I wouldn't call it hunting.

I heard a rumor
about secret police

kidnapping educators and
spiriting them off to the gulag.

But me?
No.

I frequently go for walks
with a, um, flashlight,

in case the streetlights
go out.

- These reds come red-hot
from the red planet itself.

We're talking Mars.

- Charles,
I think you mean Marx.

Darn,
there goes my flashlight again.

- Where'd you drop it?
- Maybe it's over here.

- Over here?
- I think it's over there.

- Is this it?
- That's not my flashlight.

- Look over here.

- You made it.
Cool.

I was starting to...
Whoa.

- Found it.

- Great, now maybe
you can answer our question.

Why are we all sneaking around
with flashlights?

- Did we just see a ufo?

- You're getting paranoid.

It's probably just an informal
get-together of local stalkers.

You know, hang out,
swap stories,

try out each other's
skeleton keys.

- But only an idiot would
go stalking with a flashlight.

- Come on, this is lawndale.

- Oh, yeah.

- You're right, Jodie.

We've all been acting
very foolish.

- Hey, man, speak for yourself.

- Oh, sorry, Kevin.

But I wonder if maybe
a rally might be in order,

you know,
something before classes

to promote understanding,
remove the fear,

and increase the peace.

- That's when we have practice!

He's trying to destroy football.

He's one of them!

- Who?

Um... I thought you knew.

- Well, is that song
getting happier

or am I just getting
more miserable?

- It's verging on bouncy,
all right.

But please, continue with
your delightful presentation.

- Okay, looky.

You've got these
government types at school

telling us to watch out
for weird behavior.

Then the alien nut on TV
says the same thing.

Meanwhile,
your parents are weird,

your sister's weird,
and all the kids at school

look at us funny.

- That's not new.

- Yeah, but now there's respect.

And that song?

Maybe it's, like,
the alien signal

and Trent's beckoning
to the ufo.

- Ah, but the ufo went away.

- Well, maybe aliens
don't like sucky music

and he's actually trying
to save humanity.

- When do we get
to the crop circles?

- Uh-oh, the music stopped.

- Hey, what's going on?

- Nothing.
- Nada.

- Not a thing.

- Mm.

- Um, that's some song
you're working on.

It's different.

- Nothing different about it,
nothing at all.

I gotta go and, uh,

practice my same music that, uh,

isn't any different
from the other stuff I play.

- What was that?

- You're starting to get
weirded out, aren't you?

- No, absolutely not.

Eep!

- Pizza!

- Ah!

- Mm.

- Could you hurry up?

I got other pizzas to deliver,

and if I don't get them there
on time, they're free.

I really gotta go.

- On your way over here,

you didn't see any, um,

lights in the sky or anything,
did you?

- Oh, no.
They're back?

I hope they don't plan
to experiment on me this time.

I was a mess the last time.

See, they replace your skin
with this synthetic skin

that stretches real tight
on your head in the summer.

That's why they come at night.

It makes it easier
to steal your dreams.

They got this big, big suction
device that...

...and anyone who tells you

aliens are taking over
their body is nuts.

All they want is our skin,

'cause your skin remembers
what it feels.

- Mm, hey, you ever written
any lyrics?

- Uh, oh, fired again?

Man, this happens all the time,

ever since my encounter
with those darn aliens!

- We've got to face it, Helen.

We're the enemy.

We're the people
we marched against!

That's why daria's turned
communist!

That's why we've lost
our little girl!

- Jake, daria's never once
called us capitalist pigs

or running dogs for the bosses.

This is probably just her way
of engaging

in some kind of social activity.

- Socialist, you mean!

What's happened to us?

The house, the cars,
my relaxed-fit pants.

All these things,
all this relaxing?

We've got to recapture
that hard moral core

and get back to the soil!

- All right, Jake,
no more coffee after dinner.

Back from your power walk,
sweetie?

- Um... oh, yeah.

- So you're walking for power,
is that it?

Want to take over?
Kick over the whole apple cart?

Well, let me tell you,
young lady,

if it's a group
you want to join,

there's a little bunch I know
called the human race,

and it ain't half bad!

- Yeah. Thanks, dad.

That's tremendously helpful.

- Ha!

- Let's just make that
no more coffee for you ever.

- Uh-oh.
- Yeah.

- So that's why I say
commies aren't team players,

so keep them out of team sports,
all right!

- Yay, no commie team!

- Um, thank you, Kevin.

But actually, the communist
is your ultimate team player.

The team is all.

The individual, nothing.

- Oh, well then, never mind.

All right!

- Go, commies, go!

- Good morning.

As you know,
we're here to clear up

some misunderstandings
and suspicions

so we can all feel better
about each other and ourselves.

So without further ado,

I present to you
a work in progress,

a solo performance I call

The life of Karl Marx.

The year is 1848.

Oh, dear,
that's my exercise tape.

- Anthony!
You weren't kidnapped!

- All right!

I finally convinced
those glorified dogcatchers

from immigration that I am
not an illegal alien.

But now I have a question.

Who told them I was?

- Oh, anyone can make a mistake.
Damn it.

- Maybe it was the mind control
babes from space, Mr. D.,

trying to create a distraction.

- Who?

- Them.

- Um, I hate to wreck
a perfectly good lynching,

but you're the ones
acting weird.

- Us?

Mr. O'Neill said you're out
to destroy football.

- No, I was telling them

about how communists
and martians are the same.

- That'll clear things up.

- So there's no communist
unfiltration?

- And there's no alien takeover?

- Oh, I don't know.
How do you explain that?

- Don't say it.
Let them kill us.

- We're dressed this way
for fashion club solidarity.

- One of us has a problem.

That's all you need to know.

- Oh, dear,
what kind of problem?

- A private problem.

- It's a neck zit!

- Stacy!

- Don't worry, Quinn.

They still don't know it's you.

- Ugh!

- Uh-oh.
- Did I say the wrong thing?

- Don't worry about it.

- I liked it better when
they were under alien control.

- It was so much more
believable.

- So you see, everyone?

Mr. Demartino's disappearance,

all these communist
and alien worries,

simple misunderstandings,

all of them.

What do you say we cement
our newfound unity

by joining hands and singing
man in the mirror?

- Boo.
- Let's get out of here.

- Aw, man.

- Oh, dear.

- See?
Look, what'd I tell you?

Secret hush-hush gatherings
right out in the open!

- What is going on here?

I didn't approve any assembly.

This is a serious breach
of discipline.

- But i--
- people, people.

How do you get this thing
to work?

Disperse immediately.

Damn piece of crap.

Kids are half deaf from
their damn music, anyway.

This assembly is unauthorized.

Oh, the hell with it.

- Hey, can I try that thing?

- So you finally convinced your
dad that you're not a communist?

- Yeah, I'm showing him
how much I love money

by hitting him up for it
every chance I get.

- Hey, it's Trent's hell music.

- So that's why
he was acting strange.

He was writing a jingle.

- I'm happy herb,
and I sell cars,

so come on down.

- So now you know.

- Oh, um, nice jingle.

- You don't have to tell me.

I'm a complete sell-out.

But I really needed the gig.

- What's the going rate for
an artist's soul these days?

- 20 bucks, an hour of free
studio time, and a set of tires.

- That's it?

- They're new tires.

Hey, look, it's that guy.

- And what unspeakable acts did
the space beings perform on you?

- They took my flesh
and replaced it

with an alien synthetic skin,

a skin capable of sensations
you can't even imagine.

- But that's not
the worst of it.

- Uh-oh, he's gonna get
his skin wet and shrink it.

- They used me, and then
they made me lose my job.

You saw it first
on sick, sad world.

Alien love goddesses
are depriving Americans

of their skins and their jobs.

- Hey, cool.

- We should be upset, right?

- I don't know.

Those outfits look pretty good.