All language subtitles for Another Period.S01E02.Divorce

Once a month, when the moon
is a waxing gibbous

we have to have procreation sex
with our dumb husbands.

First, we have
to do a ritual dance

to ensure we have a male heir.

This world does not need
more girls.

I don't know why we took all
that land from the Indians

if we're just going to act
like them.

I'd rather give birth to a goat
than another girl.

At least a goat might have
a good idea once in a while.

I'm ready.

Having sex with Albert is
like being penetrated

by a runny egg.

Yeah, there it is.

Well, having sex with Victor is
like drowning under a quilt

moistened by halitosis.

All right, here we go.

Oh.

Oh, Victor. Oh, Victor.

Make your voice really deep.

Oh, Victor.

Uh...

That's it. That's it, yes.

Victor. Oh, God.

Okay. Good.

Aah!

There and...

Ah.

Done.

Ouch. Ow. Ow.

Good.

How did he get on the bed?

I'm so surprised that he's here.
What? You're fired!

Don't you come in when
I'm making love to my wife!

♪ I want the
money, I want the fame ♪

♪ I want the whole world
to know my name ♪

♪ this is mine,
I got to get it ♪

♪ I got to get it,
got, got to get it ♪

♪ another period ♪

Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com

Thank you again for my job,
my handsome walrus.

You're so welcome.

Nothing brings me
as much pleasure

as helping out
pathetic gutter wenches.

Now, I'm off.
Business calls.

Be back soon.

What are you doing
out here, you muskrat?

I was taking out the trash.

Your eyes are the color
of really pretty eyes.

Oh, your skin is like
a milk-fed piglet.

Oh, I wish we could
sail away together.

Me too.

Faster, boy. I want to feel
the wind in my hair.

Why are you two lawn boating?

Afternoons are for defecating
and learning Latin.

Mother, we can't work
all the time.

Frederick, put on
a clean top hat.

I've invited a widow
to the manor

in hopes of making a match.

Frederick
will never get married.

All the women Mother's brought
so far have either left

or had accidents.

Pussy Von Anderstein's former
husband was a coon-tie tycoon.

He made a fortune designing
raccoon-skin neckties,

and as long as you don't do
anything stupid,

that fortune will be ours.

But we have infinite money!

Yes, if we have infinite money
and we add Pussy money to it,

we have double infinite money.

But, Mother,
infinity can't be doubled,

as its very nature is
its boundlessness.

It frightens me when you
act all smart like that.

Look, the day moon!

Frederick,
you must take a wife.

You're 23 years old.

Mother, I'm 35.

You're what?

Yes. Right?

Mm-hmm.

Okay.

♪ bitch, kiss the ring ♪

Pussy, dear,

Welcome to Bellacourt Manor.

Oh, thank you, Dodo.

Blanche, you shall be
Pussy's lady's maid.

Actually, I prefer
a male attendant.

I'll, uh, keep...

him.

Oh. Hmm.

And here's where
you'll be staying.

Just put this right here.

And if you need anything else,
just let me know.

Ow!

What are you doing?

Oh, no. That's my--

I'm a pure boy, ma'am.
Please.

Ow.

What's happening now?

Oh!

Ah. Ow.

Whew.

Beatrice, I wonder if you might
tell me a little bit

about your
twin brother, Frederick.

Oh, I wouldn't bother with him.

He only likes women his own age,
like, exactly his own age.

Falling Charlie,
do your routine for Pussy.

It's ludicrous.

The falling routine is actually
quite physically taxing.

But I have a loveable
new character

called "The Little Tramp."

Perhaps I might
try him instead?

Blech.

Practice your craft
in the bordello.

Yes, we pay you for A material.

If we weren't in
the mood for falling,

honestly, we would have
hired Upright Reggie.

The falling will do.

Yes, of course.

This fool reminds me
of my ex-husband.

Oh, don't you mean
your dead husband?

Oh, no, I procured a divorce.

Well, I always thought divorce
was a legend,

like the yeti
or the working poor.

Oh, I've had a divorce.

I had one in Paris
with apples and heavy cream.

And it was delicious.

That was pie, you idiot.

Oh.

A divorce is when you no longer
want to be married

and, poof, you're not.

I want a divorce, Mommy.

Everyone knows
there are only three ways

for a woman to be granted
a divorce--

infidelity, abuse,
or a dead spouse.

Well, Victor would never
cheat on me

due to my overwhelming
physical attractiveness.

Maybe I could get him
to beat me up.

Oh, dear!

Ooh, just a little nibble
for you.

Oh, okay.

Just a little something.

Oh, I think I got
some crumbs in your lap.

Ooh.

Can I tell you something?

I've been ravished.

Men can't be ravished.

When I was at the institution,

the staff ravished all
the patients except for me.

It really did a number
on my self-esteem.

Well, see, as much as
I enjoy picnicking,

I don't want to lead you on.

I don't know if I can pick you
to be my wife.

Sweet boy, I'm the one
who does the picking.

But you're a woman. I'm-- I'm
the one who does the picking,

because I have the geni--

Oh.

Oh, hello.

What are you doing here?

Oh, don't mind me. I'm just
having my own, different picnic.

Um...

Maybe I don't
want you to pick me.

The only reason
I would be getting married

is to ensure
our family's legacy

and get mother to stop flogging
my bottom with a switch.

Well, I can't say
that's not intriguing.

Let's retire to my chambers.

Oh.

Oh.

Having fun, Celine?

I think you've mistaken me
for someone else.

My name is Chair.

Cut the crap, hmm?

You know,
you're the whole reason

that I'm here
in the first place.

Before I met you,
I was a piano player.

I had my own minstrel show.

Lazy Black Hamish
and his Negro Knights.

"I sure does wish job
was spelled S-L-E-E-P."

Yeah.

You know, I've been left
by a lot of strumpets,

but you were the only one
with big enough balls

to clear out my bank account.

What do you want?

I want to know what the hell
you're doing here.

Why does a high-priced
woman of the night

drop it all just to pluck fowl?

I needed a job.

I can't.

My heart belongs to another.

It's not your heart I'm after.

You are so forceful.

That is very unladylike,
and I won't stand for it.

What are you doing back there?

Are you--
Oh, my!

That is
an unfamiliar sensation.

Do you enjoy it?

Ooh.

I feel as though I shouldn't,

but I-I do.

The body has many
pleasure centers.

You just have to know
where to look.

Ooh!

- Later.
- What if I did?

What if I did?
Later.

Chicken tartare?

Oh, yes.

My dear boy, you look as
though you've been ravished.

Well, in fact, sirs,
I have been ravished.

Oh, I do love a good
ravishing joke, don't you?

Don't you find them
a bit distasteful, though?

Some people feel that ravishing

is not a topic that
should be made light of.

Oh, not me.

Do you know that
old chestnut--

Why is it always
your ugliest friend

who's the most afraid
of being ravished?

That is amusing. You're right.
You're right.

- There is no line.
- There's no line.

Come on. Come on,
step lively, boy.

Dear Lord, please let me
get a divorce.

Although I have dreamed
of strangling the life

out of Victor's body
or having him get hit by a train

or drowning in a bath
of his own brandy vomit,

I think it's kinder to have him
arrested for battery.

Sorry about this, Victor,
but you're going to jail.

Ah!

And that's when he hit me.

I'm so sorry
for your pain, ma'am.

Ay, you'll tell us who the black
fella was who did this,

and we'll throw him
in the pokey right quick.

Oh, no,
it-- it was my husband.

Well, that's another
matter entirely.

Case closed.

I'm telling you,
I was abused by my husband

in a manner that only a divorce
would settle.

Well, let me ask
you something, dear.

Are you a bitch?

What?

Let's go about this
in a different manner.

Were you menstruating
at the time of the incident?

Were you riding the red river?

And do you have
a raspberry bush?

How dare you?
I was very abused!

Looks to me like
you walked into a door.

Well, that's an outrageous
implication!

And precisely
the sort of assumption

that makes women feel unsafe
to report their abuse

to the police
in the first place!

Well, the rule of thumb
clearly states

that a man can discipline
his wife

with anything no thicker
than his own thumb.

Well, that's the dumbest rule
I've ever heard of!

And that, my dear, is why
your husband hits you.

If you were my wife, I'd smack
some softness into you.

And I'd have hit ya
to be a bit taller.

Perhaps some larger bosoms.
Now that we've settled that,

would you mind running along,
sweetheart,

fetch us a spot of tea?

And perhaps a tour
of the premises.

We hear there's a room
made entirely of candy.

Well, infidelity and abuse
were a bust.

I guess I'm going to have to
kill Victor if I want a divorce.

♪ now, now, now ♪

♪ it's mine, it's mine ♪

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Hmm.

Beatrice, what are you doing?

I'm off to behead Pussy.

Should I use my logging axe
or my murder hatchet?

Father refuses to cover up
another murder.

We can't have another
Weekend at Bernard's!

You never let me do
anything I want!

I have a better plan.
Let's not kill Pussy.

- Let's kill our husbands.
- But I like Albert.

He's the only one who can
make my bangs fluffy.

No, not kill them kill them.

Let's just have them disappear
for long enough

to be declared dead, and then
we can marry whoever we want.

Wait. Does that mean
I can marry Frederick?

I'm sure that's what it means.

Aah!

_

Everybody gather round.
Gather round, quickly now.

I've heard some
very distressing rumors.

Which among the staff
has been ravished?

It was I.

I was ravished
by Pussy Von Anderstein.

Garfield, my God,
this is an outrage.

Oh, thank you, Peepers.

You ought to be ashamed
of yourself!

Ow.

You should be thanking
your lucky stars

that she chose to ravish you,
instead of crying about it

like a mewling kitten
with a pin in its paw!

I'm docking you
six months of gruel.

If you didn't want
to be ravished,

maybe you shouldn't be wearing

such an inviting
little valet's uniform.

It's your fault.

I wear my valet's uniform
for me.

But must it be so tight,
Garfield?

Hey, does this mean that
I can ravish Blanche?

No.

Thank you
for the thought, Hamish.

Milady.

All right, everybody
back to work. Skeet, skeet!

Have you seen
a tiny Oriental man?

He's--

Ugh! How is it possible
your face is getting uglier?

I ran into a door.

Oh.

Victor.

I need you to fake
your own death.

I would never fake
my own death,

I'll give you $2 million.

I'll have someone draft up
a contract right away.

Also...

I will be needing your...

emerald princess crown.

What? No!

That's been in our family
for almost three years.

The crown, or I live forever.

Ugh, fine!

Also, I'd like
your python slippers.

Those won't even fit you.

Oh, they're not for my feet.

Victor is the most vile,
hateful person I've ever met.

You'd think we'd get along.

Well, I'm scared
I'm losing him.

I'm afraid he's going to fall
in love with that weird lady.

Darling, what do I always
tell you?

To not walk in the room when the
green scarf is on the handle.

Yes, but I always tell you
to follow your heart.

My heart says he's mine and that
no one else can have him.

Now, come on, if he doesn't see

what a beautiful,
vacant treasure you are,

then he's a fool.

Thank you.

I always feel better
after our talks.

Oh! Can you fake your death
so I can marry someone else?

Please?
Victor said he would.

Well, of course, darling.

If Victor said so,
I'm happy to do it.

- Really?
- Of course.

Now, just hold still.

I'm gonna make
a real piece of art here.

Ooh, I like that.

Oh, yes. Mm.

My current lover is beautiful,

but she only does
the normal stuff--

missionary, man on top,
possum style.

That's where you lay there
completely still

waiting for the danger to pass.

Should we have
a spring wedding?

I always thought of myself
as a June groom.

Would you mind
not playing with my hair?

I need my own space after sex.

It's-- it's not you,
it's a physiological thing.

It's called
a refractory period.

I want you to know
I heard about what happened,

and I believe you, Garfield.

Oh.

We live in a ravish culture.
It's everywhere we look--

nickelodeons,
daguerreotypes, etchings.

I was saving myself
for a summer at sea.

I know.

Here, you can keep it.

Oh.

This is for me?

Oh, I've never received
a present before.

Oh. Oh, I knew you felt
the same way about me

as I feel about you.

Wait. What way?

Nothing. No ways.

I will cherish this forever.

And I shall name her Towel.

Oh, there you are, Pussy.

I've been looking
all over for you.

Wait.
Are you going somewhere?

Frederick, what do you think?

I think about how pits
get into olives

without making the holes.

But why does it look
like you're leaving?

Aren't we getting married?

Sweetie, I was never
trying to marry you,

I was just trying to get
into your pantaloons.

But you touched me
where I expel my waste!

I've touched a lot of men
in that place,

and I plan to keep on doing it.

You're not leaving.

I know you.
I know my Pussy very well.

You're-- This is-- There's a
hidden sketch artist somewhere.

Where are you?
Come out.

Come out.

Mm, afraid not.

Fine! Go!

Go, Pussy! I don't care.
I don't need you.

I've never needed you!

It's a lie.

Garfield, help me
with my cases.

No, Pussy.
Pussy, Pussy, please!

Please, Pussy!

Whatever happens,
you stay with me, Towel.

Don't go!

I convinced Victor
to leave for six months

so he can be declared
legally dead

and I can have sex
with whoever I want.

Well, you might wonder
why I agreed to leave,

and the answer is simple.

- Our true love.
- Money.

Well, yes, but I married
into this family to stack cash,

and I can't live my goddamn
life on a husband's allowance.

What do you want?

Shouldn't you be with
your creepy girlfriend?

I sent her away.

You did? Leave.

That's right.

I picked you

over that heartless,
manipulative lotharia.

I have never heard
of any of those words.

I don't know. I heard them
from my book reader.

But the point is, I love you.

And I have no emotional
attachment or hurt feelings

from being discarded
and used by Pussy.

Oh, Frederick.

I heard about this thing the--
the girls are doing in Europe.

Divorce?

No.
Uh, let me show you.

Yep, right there.

Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com