All language subtitles for The.Librarians.The.Next.Chapter.S02E03.WEB

Are you still at it, darling?

I brought you some tea.

Darling!

And, of course, the police
have been hopeless as per.

But you say you are some kind
of specialist?

Yes.

And I promise you, Lady Chamley,

if anyone can find your husband,

- it's me and my team.
- Oh.

Well, that's most reassuring.

Thank you, Ms. Cornwall.

So, if I may ask,

uh, where might they be,
your team?

Uh, I'll be back in one second.

Sorry.

Vikram, where are you?

Hmm.

Charlie, funny story.

I was looking for a book

on the reproductive cycle
of crabs

when I was completely
distracted--

The door, get through it.

- Now.
- Yes, yes, yes.

Coming, dear.

No need to get your,
uh, nunchucks in a twist.

Do you mind holding that one?
Can't find one's hole.

Where are we?

Bloomsbury. Hmm.

Yes, at the home of--wait,
where are the others?

Oh, Connor and Lysa.

Um, they're on their way.

Ah, here they are.

Oh.

That was a close one.
Sorry, I'm late.

I had to find my jacket
with pockets.

Couldn't find my other jacket,
but in the field,

- pockets are what you need.
- Uh-hmm.

And we're still missing Connor.

Oh, he went
to go change his shoes.

And why has he gone
to change his shoes?

Because he got new shoes.

And he said, and I quote,

"These are my cool new shoes

and London is a cool city,

and I'm gonna wear
my cool new shoes."

London town. Cool!

Hey, check out
my cool new shoes.

Hmm.

No, no, no, no, no.

This is not how this
is gonna go.

Firstly, you're late.

Secondly, you have taken three
magic doors instead of one.

- So?
- So?

What? You just think magic doors
just come for free?

I have to fill in paperwork
every single time it's fired up.

- You just tripled my workload.
- But my pockets.

- My shoes. My crabs.
- I don't care.

- Go. Go.
- Okay. Oh. I'm sorry.

Take your time.
Tell me what happened.

Uh, Chris--
Sir Christopher Chamley,

he's my husband.

He was working late.

He's been working late a lot
at the moment.

Uh, it's an international
merger at the bank.

Uh, well, may I top you up?

Marvelous. Thank you.

And, uh, you, my dear?

Uh, yes, please.

Uh, what bank does he work for?

Oh, he's the head of Charkham's.

And, uh, he's been successful.

Terribly successful,
but at a price.

- What sort of price?
- Chris used to be such fun.

The sort of man who never lost
touch with his inner child.

But the work,

the sheer volume
of never-ending work.

And so, when I saw him jump,

I assumed he had tried to...

And when you looked,
he was gone?

Uh-hmm. No body, no sign of him.

Hmm.

Even after all these years,

and that wonky old face,

I still love him so much.

Please tell me you can find him.

If anyone can find him,
we can, I swear it.

Thank you so much.

Life without Chris
would be just so gray.

Lady Chamley,
um, did anything else

unusual happen last night?

Yes, yes,
just before Chris jumped,

I heard the trill of a flute.

Okay. Oh, God.

Huh. Interesting.

The dust on the ledge doesn't
match the dust anywhere else.

Okay. See these symbols?

Uh...

A triangle cut into a circle.

What is that,
like a gang sign? Cult?

None that I'm familiar with.

Ah, okay. Pull me back.

And see?

Pockets.

Useful.

Yo, Librarians.

So, down there, front door.

- See what I see?
- Uh, drain.

- No. No.
- Trash.

Ooh, a drain full of trash.

A Smart doorbell.

So, I pulled the audio off it
from midnight,

listen to this.

The flute trill,
just like she said.

The flute, the dust,
the symbols,

what does any of it mean?

Okay. So my app is not
registering the dust as magic,

but it definitely
does not belong in Bloomsbury.

12% is ground grape seeds,

so that's not
your average London dust.

According to the London
newspaper columns,

Sir Christopher Chamley
is the fifth banker

to have gone missing
over the past two weeks.

Oh, and get this, Charlie.

Although the bankers
did not work in the same bank,

they all lived
within a mile radius

of Christopher Chamley's home.

I know that, sir.

And so would you,
if you read my briefing notes.

- Briefing notes, Charlie?
- Yes, sir.

Before each mission,
I produce briefing notes

on everything we need to know.

Please tell me someone reads
my briefing notes.

Do you know how much time
I spend on the briefing notes?

No, but if you wrote
that time down,

then I would promise
to read it--

Sorry, Charlie. Um, if I knew
you did briefing notes,

I swear I would have read them.

In fact,
I'll read them right now.

- Thank you, Connor.
- Where are they?

- In your pigeon holes.
- I have a pigeon hole?

- There's pigeon holes?
- There's pigeons?

Do you have any idea
how much time and effort I put

into being a good guardian?

How exhausting it is to always
be the one who holds every--

you have no idea
what I'm talking about, do you?

Because you're the fun ones.

The impulsive ones.

You know what? Sometimes I wish

I didn't have
to be the responsible one.

Oh!

What the hell is that?

The Trill Tip-Off
Time-To-Go Alarm.

London is the most surveilled
city in the world,

so I fed the sound
of the flute trill

into all the monitoring systems
within a one-mile radius

of Sir Christopher's house,
and bingo.

- It's detected a trill?
- Live! Happening right now!

Come on.

No, don't jump!

Guys.

Charlie!

Hey!

Step forward into the light.

Slowly.

You're that guy I tried to save.

Hey! Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Sir Christopher,
Lady Chamley sent me.

We have to get you out of here.

No! No grown-ups allowed!

No grown-ups allowed!

What are you talking about?

No. No, don't.

What is this place?

Can you please stop crying?

Oh, oh, I'm it. I'm it.

Ready or not, I'm coming!

Okay.

So I guess he did get in touch
with his inner child again.

Great. Perfect.

Now I just need to find
a way out.

Come on, come on.

Come on. Stupid thing.

Okay. I have been scanning
for teleportations,

portal manifestations,
and multiversal fissures.

Okay, okay. I've widened
the search for the flute trill

- across all of London...
- But nothing.

But nothing. Dead end.

Okay. Have we ruled out
supernatural abductions

or, uh, poltergeist, sprites?

If the house was built
on sacred grounds,

uh, druids, pagans, Romans?

Okay. Think. Connor, think.

She can't have just disappeared.

I won't let her disappear.

- Vik.
- Where have you been?

Any sign of Charlie?

No, not yet, but I bring hope.

This is Charlie's candle,

taken from the Candle Room
inside The Library.

Every Custodian, Librarian,

and Guardian
has one burning within,

representing
their force of life.

And as long
as their candle burns...

- Charlie's alive.
- Oh, thank God.

- But where is she?
- Observe.

A reference volume
of animal footprints,

wild and domesticated.

Now, does this look familiar?

Triangle inside a circle,

just like the prints we saw
on the windowsill.

Goat hoof-prints?
Is that what they are?

Wait, how did a goat get
onto a windowsill in Bloomsbury?

And why only two prints?

Is it a two-legged goat?

Okay, results are coming in.

Uh, I ran a deep diagnostic

on the dust from the windowsill
'cause I just could not decipher

some of this plant matter.

Okay. Here we go.

Dried ground leaves.

And what kind of leaves?

Uh, leaves from olive trees.

Ah, olive trees.

And the other plant matter

from the dust composition
was grape seeds.

Huh. Olive trees
and grape seeds.

So what? The dust is from Italy?

- Greece?
- Greece.

And very specifically, the trees

are from the south side
of Mount Olympus.

Mount Olympus?

Could that suggest a Greek god?

But which one?

Oh, of course!

How could I have been so stupid?

It is so painfully obvious. Hmm?

The hoof prints,
the trill, the flute.

Oh, rather, the pan pipes.

It's Pan.

It is the god, Pan.

That is a terrible drawing.

I mean, talk about
too good to be true.

All right, I'll bite.

Okay.

What the...

Magic.

Yay.

I will get it this time.

Sir Christopher, stop.

Sir Christopher,
you have to snap out of this!

You can't play with us!

- Why not?
- 'Cause you're too old.

And you're too ugly!

Ugly, ugly, you're too ugly!

- Ugly! Ugly!
- Ugly! Ugly!

Is this thing on?

Good.

Good.

So tell me, children,

are you having a fun time?

Yeah!

Are you having the best time?

Yeah!

Are you having a wild time?

But, wait, what's this?

I'm sensing someone here
who doesn't belong.

An adult spoiling our fun!

And what do we say
to adults, children?

Boo indeed.

Hello, Charlie Cornwall.

Do you like games?

Because I know
a wonderful game to play.

It's called
I'm coming to get you.

Three, two, one.

Run.

Not falling for that again.

No.

Don't you know, Charlie,

friends never leave.

Yeah?

Well, I'm not your friend.

Pan, the god of parties
and revels,

but also of chaos.

And not just any old chaos, no,

not your run-of-the-mill
keep-that-away-from-me

get-that-out-of-my-house
kind of chaos.

The danger with Pan
is he seduces you

into desiring the chaos,
welcoming it in.

Chaos, wilderness,
lawlessness, addiction.

Oh, Connor,
the kinds of parties Pan throws,

they would devastate minds,

friendships, love,
cities, civilizations.

But he died. Pan died.

- And now, he is back, somehow.
- How?

How do you resurrect a god?
Start what?

- Worshipping it again?
- Hmm. That would work,

but to manifest
enough sacred energy

would require
the devotion of millions.

And who worships Pan
in such numbers today, hmm?

Maybe there's a clue
in the briefing notes.

Charlie's briefing notes.
Of course.

This is so frustrating.

I know it has some significance,

but I can't find anything
magic about it.

How's the hacking going?

Uh, I am almost
in the Bloomsbury CCTV network.

Charlie's briefing notes.

They are, of course, excellent.

They chart a pattern
of disappearing bankers

over the last a hundred years.

Every 20 years, and always
the same part of London,

six bankers vanish.

So, is six a clue?

Is six, like, Pan's magic number
or something?

Wait. Six bankers every 20 years
for a hundred years,

that's 30 bankers.

That's 30 families
being left behind.

What happened to them all?

Yes. I'm in.

Okay. So there were
at least three cameras

that would have got a good view
of Christopher's apartment.

Uh, aha!

Oh, look, over there.
See the shadow?

There's someone
just standing out of frame.

Let me see if I can--whoa.

Do you see what I see?

Yeah, but that's impossible.

The shadow.
What's it missing?

There's no one casting it.

It's just a shadow
standing on its own.

Uh, the god Pan did not have
a detachable shadow.

So maybe it's not Pan.

Also, uh, these are leg-legs,
not goat legs.

Not that I'm the expert

on the animal-human-hybrid
magic woo-woo.

Hey, I figured out
a Connor thing.

Turns out, not that hard.

Oh, that must make you so happy.

Only the happiest
I've ever been.

Oh.

Did the dust just glow
in response to my happiness?

I'm flying.

I'm thinking happy thoughts
and I'm flying.

This is fairy dust.

I thought you weren't an expert
in magic woo-woo?

I'm not,
but I've read the storybooks.

The detached shadow, woo.

Missing people in Bloomsbury.

- The pan flutes.
- The wrong Pan.

It's not the god Pan.

- It's Peter Pan.
- Peter Pan.

Who?

Clap if you believe in fairies.

So, from what you're telling me,

this Peter Pan
is entirely amoral,

self-centered, deceitful,
powerful, seductive,

an exceptional swordsman
who can also fly,

and he has a captive fairy,
and is also an immortal.

And I thought
the god Pan was bad.

I...never thought
of it like that.

Peter Pan as a villain.
Way to ruin my childhood.

Could it be that Peter Pan

is this era's incarnation
of Pan himself?

Pan took many forms.

And could he have got himself
back together

by using himself
in popular culture?

Yes.

You said that to revive a god,

they would need worshippers
in their millions.

Peter Pan, he's books, plays,
theme parks, videogames.

He has--
is loved in his millions.

- Millions. Yeah.
- There we have it.

Modern devotion to the Pan,

or as we now know him,
Peter Pan.

And where would he
have taken Charlie?

My guess?

- Neverland.
- Excellent.

And where exactly would someone
find directions there?

You can't be Peter Pan.
Peter Pan isn't real.

Of course I'm real, Charlie.

I'm as real as any boy can be.

You're from a book.

A book written about me.

The greatest boy of all,

and it's all true, Charlie,
I am Peter Pan.

No, you're a shape-shifting
goat-boy psycho

who kidnaps bankers.

- Lost Boys.
- And kills them.

I didn't kill anyone.

You have a room
full of skeletons.

They died of old age.
It's what humans do.

It isn't my fault
that all children,

except one, grow up.

But they weren't children.

They were adults
with lives and families,

and you robbed them of all that.

They wanted to be here.

Just as you want to be here.

I do not wanna be here.

But you wished it,
Charlie Cornwall.

I heard you when you wished it.

"I wish I didn't have
to be the responsible one."

- That's what you said.
- How did you...

And now you don't.

Now you can be a child forever.

Okay.

If you're Peter Pan,
then where is Captain Hook, hmm?

Where's Tinkerbell?

Captain Hook is dead,

at least for now,

and Tinkerbell,
she's around here somewhere.

Sure.

And where's Neverland?

Where's Neverland?

Wendy, you're in Neverland.

You just have to look
with your heart.

It's beautiful.

And it's where you belong,
Wendy.

Stop calling me Wendy.
My name's...

What? What is your name?

It's...

- It's Wendy.
- Of course it is.

It always has been.

Look. And there's Tinkerbell.

Oh, Peter,
I could stay here forever.

Right, you listen up,
you little fairy.

No, of course,

I didn't fall
for the Neverland illusion.

How?

Because I'm a guardian, and we--

wait...

I can understand you.

Weird.

Because I'm Wendy, right?

Huh.

Oh, sorry,
didn't mean to squeeze.

Is that better?

Good. Now listen up.

I've read the book,
I know the rules,

and if I'm Wendy,

that means you hate me
and you want me out of here.

Well, guess what?

I want me out of here too,

which means, maybe we could help
each other out?

Good.

Now I'm gonna need you to get
a message out of here for me.

"Second sun to the right,
and straight on till morning."

What sort of vague, imprecise,

incomprehensible coordinates
are those?

If Neverland is a real place,

there's every possibility
to exist in some kind

of extra-dimensional space or...

Can anyone else hear...tinkling?

What? What is that? What is it?

Is that Tinkerbell?

Tinkerbell? Tinkerbell?

- Uh...
- Tinkerbell?

You wash that tongue

with that dirty mouth.

Shh. I do not care
how far you've come or how fast.

There is no excuse
for gross vulgarities.

Sorry. Sorry, Vikram.

You speak, uh--you speak fairy?

- This is crazy.
- Well, of course, I do.

It's really rather similar
to a unicorn.

Hmm. I met a unicorn once.

Old Bernard,
drank me under the table.

Right, here goes.

Ah, I see. Uh, I apologize
for my accent, hmm?

But let me ask you. Um...

Oh, indeed? And she...

Oh, which means you...

Which is why we...

I think that's all
perfectly clear.

What did she say?

Oh, I'll tell you along the way.

Fairy is rather complicated
to translate,

but basically,
the big nasty lady squished her,

and now she hates her,

and she'd like us
to take the nasty lady away.

From?

- Neverland.
- Ah.

Actual Neverland.

We are going
to actual Neverland.

Hey, you glad you wore
your cool new shoes now?

I don't know
what I was thinking.

Of course,
it's raining in London.

Actual Neverland sucks.

Talk about
don't meet your heroes.

Tinkerbell says

that this is only
a temporary Neverland,

that Peter Pan lost access
to his realm.

How?

Tinkerbell says he was out
too long recruiting Lost Boys.

Vik, from now on,
please start every sentence

with, "Tinkerbell says."

Connor, keep a sense
of the danger we are in, please.

Yeah.

Well, this is a good start.

It's not even locked.

Nothing suspicious about that.

It's a trap.

Oh, Neverland is "story-locked."

Tinkerbell told me that
if we wanna get into Neverland,

we have to become
a part of Peter's story.

So, the bankers
became Lost Boys.

Charlie has become Wendy.

What? Charlie is Wendy?

Like, in a nightdress
and everything?

Oh, that's a yes, right?

Okay. So, we have to become
part of Peter Pan's story?

How do we do that?

I brought with me
from The Library

the finest collection
of clothing

and costume accessory.

Now, who's up
for a bit of role play?

No.

Presenting Captain James Hook.

Hmm.

John Darling, at your service.

And introducing...

Tick-tock.

Why do I have to be
the crocodile?

'Cause you're the only one
who fit the jacket.

Plus, you couldn't pull
off this hat.

I feel that I don't look
much different.

Okay. Well, here goes nothing.

- Huh, except for my dignity.
- Onwards!

You know, if the bankers
have become the Lost Boys,

then it explains why
there's always six.

In the original story,
there were six Lost Boys.

But why is Peter Pan
stealing boring old men

and not actual children?

Ah. Well, I have
a theory on that.

So in the novel,
if the Lost Boys ever age,

which Peter hates,
he "thins them out."

The book doesn't exactly explain
what he means by that.

But now,
he's got a new strategy,

unlock an adult's inner child,

and that inner child
never grows up.

Ah. So, if you begin
as a boring banker,

then getting that inner child
out would release

a lot of youthful
pent up energy?

Is that how he stays young?

Is Peter Pan a Party Vampire?

Him and Paris Hilton.
Interesting.

So, what are we gonna do
when we find Peter Pan, Captain?

Easy, lad.

And we'll cut him
from gullet to gizzard!

Bloody hell, Vik. Calm down.

I'm so sorry.
I'm not sure what came over me.

Too flipping right, you don't.

And stop doing that terrible
English accent, Connor.

- It's embarrassing.
- Ah.

I--you know,
I don't think I can.

I seem to have gotten stuck.

Why, then, I'll keelhaul you
for your impudence!

Ah. Oh, we seem to be getting
locked into our characters.

Ah. So, you're a pirate
psychopath.

- I'm a toff Brit and--
- Hmm.

--Lysa is...

Lysa?

That was weird.

Okay. I think we should get out
of here as quickly as possible.

- Agreed.
- Arr!

I mean, yes.

Peter!
Uh, I've been looking for you.

Here I am, Wendy.

Aren't you having
the most marvelous time?

Oh, so marvelous, Peter.

- Uh, except...
- Except what?

Tell me, Wendy, for no child
can ever be sad in Neverland.

I just don't wanna share
a boy as brave,

and bold, and brilliant
as you are with anyone else.

I just can't bear it.

Not even with the Lost Boys.

You want me to send them away?

I know you can't.

I know it would take
too much power.

There is nothing
I can't do, Wendy.

I am more bold,
and brave, and brilliant,

and powerful than anyone
in the whole wide world!

The cleverness of me!

So, you'll send them home?
For me?

I'll do anything for you, Wendy.

Except that.

Peter Pan hates to play alone.

That's why it's called
Neverland,

because my friends never leave.

And when they die,
which you all will,

I'll go out and get new ones.

Lost Boys,
who's ready for an adventure?

A quest! Let's go on a quest!

There's the Mermaid's Creek,
or the Ruined Galleon,

or the Great Tree.

Ooh.

Or how about the Real World?

The greatest adventure
of them all?

- Vikram!
- Captain Hook, run!

Peter Pan,
I challenge ye to a duel.

Captain Hook.

What are your terms,
you old codfish?

If I win, you release all
your prisoners from Neverland.

And if I win, you feed yourself
to the crocodile.

Um, I'm not really sure
how that would work.

Fear not, Lysa.

I am one of history's
greatest swordsmen.

Hmm. I accept.

Then come up here
and fight me, bag-of-bones!

I'll cleave you
into two bits, boy!

Okay. Now that Furry Pants
is distracted,

- let's round up the Lost Boys.
- Good idea.

And, um, you won't eat
any of them, right?

Connor. No, of course not!

Oh, silly me.

Vikram, be careful.

You can't trust him.

I trust only cold, hard steel.

Get away from my Librarian.

Wendy can't fight Peter.
That's non-canonical.

Have at ya, boy!

What devilry is this?

The real Neverland.

Silly little Librarian,

I remember your kind
from days of old,

and you've played
right into my hands.

Oh, dear.

Whoa.

Thanks to you, I now have
all the story elements

I need to open the way
back to Neverland.

The Lost Boys, Wendy,
John Darling,

the crocodile, they're all here.

And soon,
we'll all be together forever.

As well as you,
my new Captain Hook,

who I shall fight again,

and again,

and again,

and never lose.

Never lose?

How did you do that?

Disarm Vikram Chamberlain,

one of the greatest swordsmen
in history? Simple.

By being the greatest
swordsman in history.

Poppycock and puff!

Let our blades decide,
Librarian.

Vikram, we're story locked.

That means,
no matter how hard you fight,

Hook always gets eaten
by the crocodile.

Crocodile, you say?

Hello?

Hello?

I think you scared them off.

You should try losing the hat.

Lysa?

Whoa. Now, that
is an alarming sight.

Lysa, I really hope
that you had something

substantial to eat
for breakfast.

Ah. Here we go then.

You really are
very good at that.

You must be my third Hook,
or are you my fourth?

It's hard to remember.

They all make the same face
when they fall.

Thinking happy thoughts.
Thinking happy thoughts.

That doesn't work on baddies,
silly-puss,

but I hope you're excited.

To die will be an awfully
big adventure.

If I'm being honest, this really
isn't how I thought I'd go.

Vikram, stop thinking
like a character in his story

and start thinking
like yourself.

- Cheat!
- No, no.

- You must fight with honor.
- Yes. I normally would,

but there's far more
at stake here

than my honor alone.

Yes. That's it.

I will not fight you, Pan.

I will not continue
this endless cycle of violence.

Can't fight me now.

And with that,
your story is broken.

Ow.

Captain Hook
can't be a pacifist.

- That's non-canonical.
- Hmm.

Yes. Well, I'm afraid
your cannon is about to explode.

- Ciao, ciao.
- You...

Clap your hands if you believe
in massive explosions,

boys and girls.

- You okay?
- Lysa tried to eat me.

- Sorry.
- Yeah.

It's, uh, been a weird day
for everyone.

Excuse me.

Have you seen my wife?

Sir Christopher, yes, I have.

Hey. I'm American again.

Yee-haw.

- Charlie.
- Uh-hmm.

We missed you so much.

What did you miss the most,
the nagging or the bossing?

No, we missed
all the good things.

And the nagging and the bossing.

The Library is a duller

and poorer place
without you, my friend.

Excuse me.

Can I go home now, please?

Sir Chamley, you read my mind.
I guess--

Put me down!

Sharp knives gouging
Captain Hook's eyeballs,

pointed swords plunged
into his heart,

red-hot corkscrews driven
under his fingernails.

What are you doing?

I'm thinking happy thoughts.

Pan, bring her back!

I may have lost my Lost Boys,

my crocodile, my Hook,
but I'll still have my Wendy.

Wendy and Peter,
in the real Neverland forever.

- I don't wanna go.
- Tough.

Peter Pan never plays alone.

Paperwork and filing.

Admin and accounting.

Charges and surcharges.

What's happening?
Stop. Stop this.

Being there when you're needed.

Being there when you're not.

Being the glue that holds it
all together.

- No!
- Sure.

They're not happy thoughts,

but responsibility grounds you

just like it's doing now.

I got tired of it
for a second back then,

but it's worth it,

because if something happens
to my friends,

I don't just fly off
and get new ones.

And I choose my friends.

That's my wish.

I'll get you, Guardian!

No, you'll get exactly
what you wanted.

You'll be young forever,
in Neverland forever.

But this time, Peter,

you'll be playing alone.

No!

- Should we get you home?
- Oh, yes.

Do you know where I live?

My darling!

Chris.

Oh, I'm so sorry, I went away.

Oh, darling. Oh.

Hmm.

Well, it's been
the most unusual experience,

even by our standards.

I did, however,
enjoy the dressing up.

Hey, Charlie, we're really sorry

that we've been taking you
for granted.

Yeah. Everything
that you do for us,

we've been so ungrateful.

And we will be better
in the future.

I mean, you totally won't,
but I appreciate you saying it.

Well, I've got a ton
of paperwork I should be doing.

But instead, I'm buying
if anyone's drinking.

Oh, a night off?
Well, I approve.

I am totally down for that.

- Yeah. And I am starving.
- Yeah.

Well, let's eat, drink,
and be merry.

Okay. I just have to get my,
uh, jacket without pockets.

Yeah. I think I need
to change my shoes.

- Oh, my crabs!
- Okay. Hurry up.

- Tick-tock.
- Lysa, do not do that.

So, I hope your takeaway
from all this

isn't that you think I'm boring?

Oh. No, no, not at all.

Actually, I think you get
the balance just right

between Responsible You
and Fun You.

Like, you'll always
follow rules,

but it's not
because you love rules.

What do I love then?

- You love us.
- Hmm.

You love us.

You love us.

You love us.

You la, la, love us. L-O-V-E.

- You are all idiots.
- Literally, absolutely.

And I think that's why
we need you so much.

Don't ever change,
Charlie Cornwall.

- Deal.
- Promise?

Okay. Okay.