All language subtitles for hotel.paradise.1995+++

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Original subtitles

Oh.

Who are you?

This isn't happening.

This isn't happening.

Forget the wedding.

You'll never escape from me.

From now on, wherever you go, wherever you do, I'll be with you.

You should be merciful and leave the poor bastard waiting at the altar.

Take my credit cards.

Yes, I'll give you a head start. I'll lie here for 40 days, tucked to this

our bed.

handcuffed to paradise.

Yes, go.

40 days and 40 nights for you to ride my plastic into the sunset.

Lose your name.

Hell, I don't know your name anyway.

Lose your looks. Lose your mind.

I'll be with you.

Whatever your disguise.

Whatever your...

Velocity. I'll be with you because you'll be looking for me.

Hiding from me everywhere.

Expecting me everywhere.

You see?

Because I have finally found you.

It was nice to meet you, too.

Nice!

Nice?

Nice. Wasn't it?

Last swing, you know, before I walked down that aisle.

Lady, I have been looking for you all of this and several other lives.

Now will you hear in the light of our first day, please tell me your name.

You haven't got a hairbrush or a comb or anything, have you?

This isn't my room.

Whose is it?

Hours.

Hours?

Yes, don't you remember last night? We commandeered it.

Partners in crime.

You told me one o 'clock.

You said the time doesn't start ticking again until one o 'clock.

None of your business.

That's not what you said last night.

Last night?

I said it's champagne talking.

Champagne said a lot.

Champagne.

I've got to go get married.

Physical manifestation is my spiritual condition.

Oh. What the hell did I do?

I don't feel like I'm somewhere.

Oh,

here it is.

Get your goddamn hands off me.

Last night you screamed your brains out.

Oh, gone.

But never ever to be forgotten.

You're real romantic.

Well, why don't you reload and come back to bed?

You tell it to happen anyway.

Is this the room, sir, without any questions?

You charged everything to the groom. What?

Wait till the poor bastard sees your phone, though.

Don't tell him.

Well, you did some shopping.

What? In Hong Kong. I'm begging you.

You begged me last night.

Oh, you got lucky. Have a nice life.

You begged me not to leave this bed until one o 'clock.

You made me promise to stay with you until time started ticking. And those

your exact words, until time starts ticking.

I'm a sucker for handcuffs. Don't take it personally.

I do. I don't.

choke on that.

And so, die.

Wish.

Be careful what you wish.

Wishes come true.

For example, in accordance to your wish, you now find yourself on your wedding

day in a luxury $1 ,200 a night hotel love nest with a naked dead man

handcuffed to your bed.

A corpse who is Coincidentally, by the way, it seems not your grin.

Wearing nothing but a grin and a halo of bullet holes and covered in your

makeup. Who is this naked in handcuffs, lipstick -covered dead man?

How did he get this way?

Why is the corpse grinning?

What are the clues?

What last dying moment petrified in his rigor mortis?

What does this stalagmite of a grinning corpse do to your wedding, lady?

Huh? You have to cancel?

Do to an answered prayer a wish come true?

You are a terminal asshole.

The man of your dreams.

I never remember my dreams.

I'm last night.

Don't remember a thing. You remember.

Maybe you weren't good enough to make me remember. You remember.

Nope, nothing.

One minute I'm sipping champagne alone while my intended went off to his stag

party. His father.

The detore.

Just about into the mafia.

He's as old as God. He probably is one of some kind or another.

Though I... I decided to try my...

You were wonderful.

But you wouldn't tell me your name.

Not even in bed. Especially in bed.

You said that names are for gravestones. That we didn't need them. That without

our names, we had nothing to lose.

What time is it?

I kept saying that names are dangerous.

That names start time ticking. Over and over, names start time ticking.

Ring a bell?

I wasn't there.

What time is it?

Do you remember the fish pond?

Fish pond?

Yes.

You were neck deep in water lilies when we met last night. Neck deep in water

lilies.

Surrounded by four little cupids with their peckers pointed at you.

Four little what?

Fountain statues around the fish pond.

Four little cupids that are supposed to be pissing, but aren't because the

fountain's turned off.

So they look like they're playing with themselves.

All with their little whistles pointed at you.

The first words you spoke to me were, turn on the cupids.

You were stark raving naked, lady. And that wedding dress of yours was hanging

high and dry from a cupid pecker.

I heard you giggling, so I came to investigate.

Carp were all around you.

nibbling at you, tickling you in what you called your sensitive areas.

You said you felt like you were being worshipped.

You were gorgeous, all wet and glistening with the moonlight.

I need the panties that belong to this.

A security guard came poking around with his flashlight, says we had to duck

into the hibiscus for a while.

And it was there, right there in the hibiscus, where we plighted our trough.

And then I helped you back into your wedding dress, and you were home free.

Until all hell broke loose when you lifted your skirts and flashed those

incited the brood.

Never seen anything like this. I was kicking them away.

Ghostly. Attacking in the moonlight.

Bogeys in the moonlight.

Bogeys in the moonlight.

Wands are mean devils.

They mate for life.

That's why they're mean.

Check out your dress.

Did you just leave me alone?

peas with my blackout.

You don't have to believe me.

Whether I believe you or not, whether I did or did not do, whatever it is you

say I did, you put a picture of it in my brain.

Even if it didn't happen, you put it there in my mind's eye.

Then my imagination starts to work on it, and that picture, that seed that you

planted, elaborates into a life all of its own.

As a grain, a fan irritates an oyster into producing power.

No, an uneradicable mental image that could just about push a person over the

edge, unless you're just too insensitive to understand that.

No, I understand.

Don't worry, you did not fuck a swan.

No!

But you sure came close.

No. No.

No. No. No. I can't hear you. I can't hear you. Hey.

Hey. Hey.

Oh, Lita.

Lita.

Oh, Lita.

Oh, Lita.

I'm asking for it.

Lita. I'm asking for it. I'm telling you.

A bottle of champagne.

A bride alone in the moonlight.

A vision.

A miracle in the moonlight.

You were so beautiful.

So beautiful that I suddenly... I had no arms or legs.

I was paralyzed.

Or I would have hidden from you.

But you came up to me. And speaking with you was like a cardiac stress test.

But you were wonderful.

You were crying and I made you laugh.

And you took my arm and my legs came back.

We were both wonderful.

Like long -lost friends.

Partners in a beguiling crime.

All I did was drink too much champagne.

You took advantage of me.

A gentlemanly advantage.

I bet you even drugged me.

Oh, yes.

With a powerful aphrodisiac for which there is no antidote.

Not even death, not even reincarnation could quell your flesh or quench your

desire for me.

You handcuffed me to that bed.

I knew you.

I was helpless.

Oh, you sang in your chains.

Helpless, that makes it rape.

That is, if you could even get it up.

kingdoms of the world.

All right, lady, you got me. Here I am.

Look, lipstick everywhere.

I guess it is clearly obvious that you have apprehended a would -be impotent

rapist. According to you, I shouldn't even be able to walk.

Such prowess. I thought we did pretty good, considering we only had handcuffs

and a room service cart to work with.

I suppose that you don't remember improvising with the ice bucket.

You know what? Your bullshit is endless.

I doubt that.

Bullshit seems to be your stock in trade.

You're full of so much shit. I bet this hibiscus grew out of your ear hole.

No, no, no. You inspire me.

I'm on a mission here.

Everything without you has been nothing but practice. Endless.

Fucking endless.

How about a lifetime?

Don't you see our opportunity?

No names, no luggage. You and I are a blank page. We're all future, baby.

My future?

Calling me at one o 'clock.

Stand him up.

Due to unanswered prayer.

Ships in the night, cowboy.

And in the morning we find ourselves washed up together on a strange and

potentially wonderful unknown island. Our own little paradise of

You think this is paradise?

Possibilities!

Can't you see?

We can make each other up together.

Collaborate on each other.

fucking disaster.

Exactly. And what turns disaster into paradise?

Sudden death, short and sweet.

I love story. I love story times disaster into paradise.

She fucked up Adam and Eve.

Well, maybe she married the wrong man.

Maybe Eve and the snake were meant for each other.

Maybe... Maybe she broke the devil's heart.

Please tell me another love story.

Oh.

Oh, me, Tarzan, you, Jane?

More like the iceberg and the Titanic.

Absolutely. As in meant for each other.

As in catastrophe.

As in you can't think of one without the other.

It was nothing but a one -night stand.

I don't even remember it.

I'm out of here, cowboy.

A good love story, you know, a really great love story.

Has everything and everyone in it.

All lovers want to be together alone.

Go back to your Bible.

The whole damn business started with Adam and Eve.

Alone, together.

The rest of it is just the history of their family tree, the epics of their

lineage.

Evolution of their outcome.

The whole human math started with their love story.

It's not you. It's Harris.

You fucking... I'll put a bullet in the three of them. Him, her, and you.

Sort of that, pal.

The Bible is not a love story.

The Bible... The Bible's about God.

Anyway, it didn't begin with Adam and Eve. It began with God, all by himself.

And then he created the world, and then the world ran amok.

God's more... God's more like a mad scientist.

But Adam and Eve stole the show.

That was their true transgression.

Mankind's original sin was that the characters stole the story from the

God is a mad scientist.

You're right.

But Adam is Flash Gordon escaping from him with his trusty girlfriend.

And that's why I'll bet your ass to my elbow that there's a Bible in this room

somewhere.

When Adam and Eve hit the road out of Eden, they were the first travelers.

The very first couple on the very first night of the very first honeymoon after

the very first shotgun wedding.

And that is why that there is a Gideon Bible in every hotel

room of our Judeo -Christian world today.

That's why there are hotels.

Every deluxe dirty weekend or claptrap quickie nooner matinee, from five stars

to five cockroaches, takes place in the presence of

a hidden Bible because of Adam and Eve.

You see, everything makes sense in a love story.

Nothing is too small to matter.

Nothing is too wonderful to be true.

Everything is a clue making sense.

Sense?

Here I am, like this, on my wedding day?

And you want the world to make sense?

How? Why? Why should the world make sense?

And the smart ship grew in stature, grace, and hue.

In shadowy silence, the stars grew the iceberg, too.

Why don't you come back to bed and let's wake up the gypsy?

Gypsy can't wake up.

Because of the lion.

She's safe as long as she doesn't wake up.

Sleeping beauty with a mandolin.

She needs a gun.

Maybe she can charm the beast with her music.

There's not even a tree.

The hell's a lion doing in the desert anyway?

Maybe you heard her playing.

Maybe her music brought him to her. He's already charmed.

Not enough.

She wakes up.

Every breath would be a miracle.

Even if she's playing possum.

Music's not enough.

She's got the moonlight.

Wait, just a miracle?

I thought I told you to watch her. You as well. I thought I told you to watch

her.

Four billion years of the planet.

Forty million centuries.

Grains of the sands of time.

Salt of the earth.

Stardust. All coming down and adding up, converging to

you and me.

Tell me about the woman again Tell me your name

right now

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