Original subtitles

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

‐ Dear Diary, I'm trying to end these entries

on an optimistic note from now on, so let's see.

As of today, my odds of killing Brock Mason

are now twice as good as they were yesterday.

Let me explain.

[drilling]

Von Duct, is the sonar ready

to be put into the submarine yet?

‐ Oh, Dr. Havoc, so good to see you.

Is that a new coat?

Looks very handsome.

You are a very handsome guy,

but you‐‐you have parted your hair differently, yeah?

‐ Okay. I'm gonna assume that you're

sucking up to me because the sonar is not ready.

‐ Why, to the contrary.

All that we have to do is hook up the battery which

my assistant is bringing in right now.

‐ Your assistant?

‐ Carl, we need the battery.

‐ [grunts] Here you go, sir.

‐ Carl, careful with that.

That's delicate equipment.

‐ Sorry, sir.

‐ You're killing me, Carl.

‐ What‐‐what‐‐what the fuck was that?

‐ What was what?

‐ Uh, your assistant.

What is with your assistant?

‐ Oh, don't worry about him.

He's a worthless piece of shit.

‐ No, that's not what I mean.

Carl, can you come in here?

‐ [panting]

‐ Y‐yes?

‐ Why the fuck does your assistant look like me?

‐ [chuckles] Oh, well, uh,

you see, he's a clone.

‐ Wha‐‐and who gave you permission to clone me?

‐ Well, as you know,

eh, I needed an assistant,

and I figured if I was going to clone somebody

uh, I better use the best DNA I could find.

That's you. ‐ Oh. All right,

I guess that's all right then.

But from now on, you know,

ask me for permission before you go cloning me, okay?

I mean, let's not forget who

the supervillain is here.

‐ Ah, yes, of course, Dr. Havoc.

Once again, you are right. You're the boss.

I'm just lucky to be working with you.

Carl, why the hell are you still standing here?

Go do something productive. ‐ Ow!

‐ All right, where were we? Ah, yes.

The battery for the nuclear submarine.

As you can see‐‐ ‐ Hold on. Uh, I...

does the battery have to be this big?

It looks kinda bulky.

‐ Well, yes, Dr. Havoc.

It's a very powerful sonar system.

‐ No, I know. I mean, I get it,

it's just... [sighs]

just kinda wish it was a little bit more compact.

‐ Uh‐huh, uh‐huh.

That's a good point. Carl!

‐ [panting]

Yes, sir?

‐ Dr. Havoc feels the battery

is too large and bulky.

‐ But sir, this is the smallest we can

make the battery in order to fully power the device.

‐ Well, apparently that's not

good enough for Dr. Havoc, Carl.

Of course, it is an ingenious design

and it's perfectly suited for the machine it will power,

but, uh, we neglected

to take into account the bulkiness.

Ingenious design and months of hard work

don't matter because it's bulky.

And what we care about in this laboratory is whether

or not there is an excess of bulk.

You [bleep] idiot. ‐ Ow!

‐ Actually, you know what? Uh, I think

the battery size is gonna be just fine.

‐ Oh, stupendous.

‐ Yeah, I mean, besides, this project's

already a month behind schedule.

The last thing we want to do is add more delays.

‐ [laughs] Of course not.

Did you hear that, Carl?

We are a month behind schedule.

We are clearly not working hard enough.

‐ We're working day and night, sir.

‐ I know that, but that clearly doesn't matter.

Sure, the two of us built

a stealth nuclear submarine single‐handedly,

but if it's 30 days late,

who gives a fuck? ‐ Ah!

‐ You are not going to get a congratulations here, Carl.

‐ Ah! ‐ No job well done!

There's no thank you from Doc

for building me an underwater death machine.

‐ All right. Hold on, hold on.

Stop. Look, uh‐‐

I'm beginning to see a bit of a pattern developing here.

‐ What do you mean, Dr. Havoc?

‐ I think you're projecting some of the issues

you have with me onto Carl.

‐ Nein, nein, nein, nein.

Carl is just a stupid piece of shit.

‐ Yeah, I kinda feel like you cloned me

so that anytime I piss you off,

you have somebody to beat the hell out of.

‐ [laughing]

Dr. Havoc, I think you're mistaken.

Tell him, Carl.

‐ Actually, that does kinda

connect a lot of dots for me.

‐ Carl, I swear to God.

‐ Yeah, okay. I think Carl needs to go.

‐ What's going on now?

[soft acoustic music]

♪ ♪

‐ [whispering] Come on, you fucking pussy, do it, do it.

Do it, fucking pussy, come on.

[sighs] God, this is harder than I thought.

You know, I fantasize about killing myself every day,

but, uh, I can't seem to pull the trigger.

‐ I got this.

[gunshot]

‐ How do you like that,

you worthless piece of [bleep]?

‐ Okay, okay. Feel better now, buddy?

‐ Yeah. Actually, yeah.

Whew! Whoo!

‐ Okay, all right.

‐ I think I got a lot of really good stuff out there.

‐ Yeah. Okay, well‐‐

[indistinct chatter]

‐ And then, they rip her arms off.

‐ Oh, my God.

‐ Yeah, I know.

[both laughing]

[gasps]

Oh, my God, he's dead.

‐ [gasps]

We're free.

‐ Finally.

[both cheering]

‐ Uh, excuse me.

‐ Ah!

Ghost! Oh, my God, run.

[both whimpering]

‐ Hold on. Can we make a clone of anybody?

‐ Uh, yeah.

[intriguing music]

‐ Oh, my God. I can't believe

I'm actually gonna get to kill Brock Mason.

‐ Well, technically it's a clone, so‐‐

‐ Yeah. You know what? Don't ruin this for me, okay?

‐ Clone fabrication complete in three, two‐‐

clone fabrication complete.

‐ Goodbye, Brock.