Original subtitles

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl who lived a beautiful life with a

man she once adored.

No, not that guy. That's the pool guy.

If you notice, he's not even wearing a net on his skimmer.

He's ridiculous. Not him.

He's for later.

It's this guy.

The one with the shitty attitude and the suit that's two sizes too small.

This is the guy that she used to adore.

Open the fucking door!

Open the damn door!

Open the goddamn door!

More to follow.

What are we talking about?

Don't call me Victor.

Sorry, Mr. Victor.

Okay, much better. Gracias.

Now where's Sam?

Upstairs?

What's the difference?

Do you really think that 2012 stuff is really true?

I mean, do you really think the world is going to end?

The Earth's polarity will reverse.

The entirety of the magnetic structure will go into retrograde.

Earthquakes, fires... Careful now, don't burn yourself.

Tidal waves, windstorms, the end of days.

Do you want some more wine?

No, I'm good.

God, isn't that the most depressing thing? I mean, if we all know we're

going to die, then why go on living?

Every civilization comes to an end.

But we never die.

Do you want some more cheese?

What the fuck's going on in here?

Sounds like a goddamn sewing circle.

Did you see that sandwich? She just hit me.

Yeah, and you deserved it. Now let her tapas be.

I want her to say it.

Why? Because I fucking pay her, that's why.

Now say, let my tapas be.

You just want to make fun of her accent.

Stop being so fucking racist.

Me?

Racist?

Baloney. Now say it.

Leave Nat alone. She's trying to work.

She's never worked a day in her goddamn life. Now say, let my tapas be.

What are you looking at her for?

No, Mr. Victor. I won't say it.

Really?

There goes your Christmas bonus hot shot.

Poblanos. Very spicy.

I didn't think that was a green pepper.

Shit!

If this thing doesn't work, maybe we should call a plumber?

You think now? You think we should call a plumber?

Manuel!

Fix the sink, you fucking Mexican.

American.

No you didn't

What you doing?

Writing a book.

Another children's book?

It says, what's this game?

What?

You don't think I like what you do, do you?

I think you're indifferent.

Why? Because you never read my stuff.

Because that's a children's book and I'm a grown-up.

I understand.

You're not the right demo.

Not the right what?

Quick question.

Mind if I fire Nada?

Uh, yeah, I mind.

Why would you want to fire her anyway? She's fantastic.

Well, because she made me feel... Well, correction.

You both kind of made me feel like an asshole tonight.

Maybe that's because you were an asshole tonight and we were just acting

accordingly.

How's your mouth feel anyway?

Feels like I gargled gasoline.

Feels like I got mouth-raped by the human torch.

Feels like that, uh... Okay, enough.

Got it. Moving on.

Are you, um... Are you too mad for me to fuck you?

You're the boss.

Come on, have I got a little bit of energy here.

Okay.

Come on, big poppy. Yeah, fuck me. Woo, let's go.

Yeah.

Mm-mm.

Bring it.

Mm.

Perfect.

Thank you.

Jimmy.

you

Here.

Baby, I love you. I love you, too.

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom of bees, a princess spun a tale upon

parchment besides her sleeping prince.

The princess thought of herself as a scribe, a writer of fanciful tales,

tales of adventure and romance.

She would write in bed most nights as the prince slept beside her, tucked in

as snug as a bug in a rug.

He would fart sometimes, and she would wonder if it was a comment from his

subconscious mind, scolding her to put away her pen and parchment.

She thought his bowels were more bossy than he. His farts were smelly and sad,

much like the future she saw with him, if she one day became queen to his king,

which was inevitable, given that she had already been dowry to him, and that he,

in his better moments, truly did love her.

So being of young mind and triumphant spirit, the princess was able to forgive

the prince.

For as much as they differed in matters of taste and creativity, they did share

a common bond when it came to fucking.

Fuck yeah.

It's nice to say the princess was never disappointed by the wicked dick actions

that her prince did wield, for it was mighty and magnetic and dug tunnels deep

and wide.

his antenna bouncing about as he darted and pumped her royal vats with the girth

and mass of his princely cock.

And the moment of climax?

Delicious.

She loved it when he sprayed his food to and fro, frothing from the cock like the

bow of a whaling ship in a hurricane water.

Oh, yeah.

Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

and continue on to the sadder part of this poignant tale

so

the

time they spent frolicking in bed was wonderful indeed And though the prince

and princess still continued to have their share of yucks and chuckles on a

regular basis, the princess still could not help herself from wishing for the

earlier times to return, when every kiss was perfect, when all was as it should

be, when she could sense no other world outside of the one she felt within the

warm, strong confines of his velvet embrace.

Why love should fade and change would remain a mystery to the princess.

through the rest of her days.

Floating in the ether, remembrance of days long past and feelings never

rekindled.

How sad and fleeting love can be, how we wish to hold on to it, but the tighter

we grasp our trembling hands around it, the sooner it leaves us.

This is the pain of our existence, our vain.

Why is it so when there's so much beauty being reflected back at us?

Why can't we see it when it's right there in front of our eyes?

What?

It's great and I believe the key phrase you're looking for here

What? Shit, I'm late.

Let's get out of here.

Off to the pony show?

We got it.

Have a good day.

You two, uh, do whatever it is you do.

I write children's books.

Sure you do, honey.

I'm just busting your crotch.

How delicately praised.

Hasta la vista, babies.

Oh, and Nada, make sure you call the plumber, okay?

Yes, Mr. Bigfoot.

Gracias.

Ciao for now, belladonna.

What are you doing?

What we always do.

No, last time you almost got me fired.

What makes it so hot?

No. That's what makes me fired.

Put your pants back on.

Make me?

Why are you married guys always so difficult?

Because our wives have told us what to do. We're so fucked.

No, I'm not.

We'll be right back.

um

Bye.

you can buy

Once upon a time, in a honeycomb kingdom of bees, there lived a beautiful queen,

barren of child.

She and the king, King Victor, had been together for as long as either could

remember. There was a time when his mirrored kiss would send her heart

aflutter, when words of tender poetry flowed from his lips like a river,

straight from his heart into hers.

Over the years, the queen's love faded and began to disappear.

Over time, she watched as he descended into a sugar-fueled frenzy of forced

machismo and slovenly appearance.

Sat on cubes of sugar.

I want more sugar.

Where are the servants?

Come hither and yawn. Being worshipped on hand and foot wasn't enough to

satisfy the king.

Only a volley of insults and put-downs would serve to satiate his corpulent

ego.

aimed at what he considered lower insects, pests even.

Ingrates!

Shall I ever have to raise my voice again, I will sever your stingers!

Yes, my liege.

The king's treatment of the servants made the queen's heart ache with

sympathy for the downtrodden and starving workers.

The queen would not hesitate to take issue with the king on such occasions.

You should be nicer to them, my king. They only mean to serve you with

diligence. and respect hogwash they are lower life form i treat them as they

deserve you are far too sympathetic my queen they should serve you on bended

antennae and let that be the end of that as you wish my king being that the

king was unwilling to concede with the queen's admonishments she decided to

improve the servant stock in private by allowing them to

By allowing them to, um...

By allowing them to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

In more ways than one.

Hmm.

I love you.

Okay.

I miss you.

See ya.

Yeah.

Move it.

Hello?

Hello?

Victor's cheating on me.

But you already knew that, didn't you?

You learn a whole lot about a person when you wash the dirty clothes.

I want to tell you, but this is not really my business.

If I divorce him, I get my freedom.

I get half of everything.

Get a shitload of money.

So why can't I?

Fuck. He's cheating on me, so why can't I just fucking leave him?

Maybe because you love him?

That river ran dry a long time ago.

Oh, no, but... I don't know.

I don't know, maybe he could...

I don't know. Help me feel better.

Forget it. It's stupid.

See?

Don't worry about Victor.

I have the plan.

Thank you.

What was all that?

Oh, just my clothes.

Yeah.

I thought we were going to talk about that.

Oh, it's just a few things for when I stay here.

Now that Victor is gone, I figured you weren't here.

You don't want to be alone.

You're right.

I don't.

I want to be with you.

I know, I know.

It's all shocking, you know?

Victor and I were together for so long.

It's weird.

I know, and I'm here for you.

Drink this. You feel much, much better.

Nada?

Si. How come you're not in your uniform?

The wine is good, huh?

Drink more. You feel much better.

Do you really think this is a good idea?

What?

This was your idea. I'm doing this for you. I know, I know. It's just... What?

What?

Nothing.

Do you want this money or don't you?

What do you think?

Then why don't you get over here and stop being a little bitch and fuck me

like a man?

I just don't.

late for that, don't you think?

Once upon a time, there was a girl who died a sad, lonely death.

She had wanted to love a man she could no longer tolerate, and so she made him

leave.

But this is not a cautionary tale.

It is a ghost story.

But that is a tale for another time.