All language subtitles for dfdfvsdfggvhhgr hb thnrtvbnjty

You're probably wondering
what we're doing.

Short answer, saving the earth.

Again.

I'm not leaving without you.

I need something
soft to land on.

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Previously on this filmed
documentary program,

or whatever the fuck
this is supposed to be.

Behind this door is the
living quarters of The Sire.

The actual Sire?

Do not ever open this door.

- Peekaboo.

As I was saying,

- do not ever...
- Open the door.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got it.

As leader of...

Coleader.

Of the Vampiric Council,
it is one of my...

Our.

Our duties to be
looking after The Sire.

The Sire is the original vampire

from which all other
vampires are descended.

Over the centuries,

it has devolved into a
horrific and fearsome creature.

He is one very angry, very
crispy piece of crust.

But its continued health
is of extreme importance

for the fate of
all vampire-kind.

So, uh, why are we talking
to you about The Sire?

- Um...

It is a fucking mess down here.

No one is respecting my
organizational system.

What are you pissing on about?

Look at this.

What is the point of having
a glowing orb section

if you're gonna put the glowing
orb in the monkey paw section?

I've just got to find this
stupid magic flute for Laszlo.

He wants to use it to
seduce some mail woman,

and to be honest,
I'm here for it.

Oh, shit.

- What is it?
- Shit, shit, shit,

The Sire!
- Shit!

- He is... Oh...

- Open-open the door, Nandor.
- Yes.

Got it.

- Oh, for fuck's sake.
- Oh, damn.

- Oh.

Oh, The Sire.

Sire.

Oh, no.

It seems that The
Sire was so hungry

that it took the sharpened
bones of its victims

and tunneled a hole in the wall.

I can't believe it.

Little rascal.

I can't believe you

managed to mess this
up so badly, Nandor.

It was your job
to feed The Sire.

- Me?
- Yes, you.

What?

So, yeah,

turns out I never actually

told Nandor to feed The Sire.

How is this my fault?

Because I said to you that

you're the one to be responsible
for feeding The Sire.

What have I done?

I was meaning to.

I even wrote it
on a sticky note.

"Ask Nandor Feed Sire."

But I never actually got around
to giving him the message.

So, you know, I think
it's very difficult to say

who's at fault, really.

♪ Don't sing if you
want to live long ♪

♪ They have no use
for your song ♪

♪ You're dead, you're
dead, you're dead ♪

♪ You're dead and
out of this world ♪

♪ Now your hope and
compassion is gone ♪

♪ You sold out your
dream to the world ♪

♪ Stay dead, stay
dead, stay dead ♪

♪ You're dead and
out of this world. ♪

Why are you just
fucking sitting there?!

- We're all gonna
fucking die! All die.

Oh, my love. Please
don't tell me

you believe in this bullshit?
- Of course I do.

If the vampire that turns
you dies, then you die.

So, if the original
vampire dies, you all die?

All die. No, it's a
fucking urban myth.

Like ghosts or large penises.

You don't want to help? Fine.

I will fix this.

Since this is all my
big dumb stupid fault.

No, Master. Yes.

- Control that
hellhound! Nandor, wait!

- Nandor...
- People will believe anything these days.

Absolutely anything.

I tell you, if what
they're saying is true,

both my wife and I
would be dead by now.

- Yeah.
- The Baron obviously turned my wife into a vampire

and she turned me
into a vampire.

You two should be dead because
The Baron is definitely dead.

- Absolutely.

The Baron is definitely dead.

Yeah, burnt to a crisp and
buried in the backyard.

In the back garden, as we speak.

- Fuck. Get a shovel.
- Yeah.

Gizmo!

I am not accustomed

to taking responsibility
for my missteps.

When I was a military general,

if there was a problem in
one of my various wars,

I would simply
blame another nation

and then we would
go to war with them.

And so on, etcetera.
We've all been there.

But, as leader of the
Vampiric Council...

Coleader!

I must swallow my pride
and do what is right.

It says here that the
correct name for The Sire

is, in fact, uh,
"G-G-Gajillarum"?

I think you swallow the "G,"
so it's like "Yarilariur."

It doesn't seem right.

- Are you sure? No.

I need to figure this out before
my press conference begins.

No, what? We don't need
to do a press conference,

we just need to capture
the bloody thing.

No! I need to let the
vampire community know

what is happening and
put their mind at ease.

'Cause it is I who have failed
to perform a very simple job.

I don't think we need to... Oh.

Over the power of the ether,

I hereby summon

the vampire society's most
respected journalists,

news anchors, bloggers, vloggers

and high school
yearbook editors.

- Oh, it worked.

Thank you all for coming.

Is this thing on?

- Are you fucking kidding me?
- Uh...

But now is not the
time for jokes.

This evening,

at approximately 9:53 in
the p.m. Staten Island time,

the creature known as The Sire,

- aka Girlyjim...
- Nailed it.

Escaped Vampiric Council watch

and is currently at large

- in the tristate area,
exact location unknown.

I, Nandor The Relentless,

co-supreme leader of
the Vampiric Council,

- do hereby accept full
responsibility for this misstep.

- Time for questions. I have a question!
- Coleader Nandor.

- Yes?
- Coleader Nandor, hi.

Uh, Lars Murderbone,
Orlando Sentinel.

Is there currently any
kind of plan in place

to capture The Sire?

We have a plan and it is
going absolutely perfectly.

- So, you can go.
- Yes.

And you know, there's a
lot of speculation saying,

"Oh, this is gonna be the end
of vampires as we know it."

- What?!
- No one asked.

Even if that did happen,
we've had a wonderful run,

haven't we? We've
had a great time.

- You've doomed us all!
- Oh, no!

Okay, bye.

You have just made things
significantly worse.

- No. No.

- Dig there. That's literally
what I'm doing right now.

Well, dig deeper.

I can't remember where
we buried the bastard.

Might this be him?

Uh, that might not.

That is the census taker, 1990.

- What about this chap? Nope.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Now that rock is
beginning to ring a bell.

That rock there.

That does ring a
bell, that rock.

Baron? Are you there?

Yes.

Oh, my God. Shit.

Did you hear that? Baron?

Yes? It's over there.

- Baron?
- Baron? I am here.

Here, here. Start digging,
man. Here. Come on.

- Shit.

Big pull now. Almost there.

- Well, fancy seeing
you here, Baron.

- We thought you were dead.

Well, no, I am not.

You see, when you buried me,

I was pretty much dead,
but not completely dead.

Give The Baron his last sip.

Of course.

Shall we just get him in?

Yeah. Goodbye, Baron.

I was able to slowly
regain my strength,

subsisting on the
blood-soaked dirt

of the many, many humans
you have buried out here.

That was a bit of luck.

Now, I did try to dig
my way to the surface

using just my mouth

and this one arm that
is fused to my chest.

I guess I was digging
sideways instead of up.

Yeah, that'll happen when
your arm is, uh, yeah.

Soon, I recovered
enough to cry out

and beg you to dig me up.

Uh, "Help! Help!" I cried.

- Oh, okay. That was
you, then. Right.

Yeah, I heard the screams,

but I just thought it was
someone in the neighborhood

in grave danger. I was
like, "Not my problem."

That is all in the past,

because I am now back, and
I have never felt better.

If I, if I could just...
get... Well, you look good.

Oh, oh. Almost. Ah. Yes, okay.

There we go. Okay.

- Who wants to get
smacked first? Oh.

Yeah, it was a
little nerve-racking

seeing The Baron again,
considering our-our history.

But he doesn't seem
to remember anything.

He was on a lot of drug
blood that night, so...

What he don't know
won't hurt him, or me.

So nice to be back in the arms

- of a big, strong boy. Mwah.

But this means that
that Sire theory...

"If he dies they all die"...

That might be real.

Sorry, Baron. Urgent matter.

We must attend to it. Bye!

Feed him. A simple task.

I accept full responsibility.

I don't see how that helps us.

Oh, good evening,
my sweet companions.

The Baron. You're alive... ish.

- Well, catch me up. Have
you taken over America? Uh...

Well, we've, um, taken over
the local Vampiric Council.

- Huzzah!

Yes, huzzah!

But it's not going so great.

Understatement of the year.

What she said.

Yes, you've picked a
bit of a shitty time

- to come back from
the dead. I see.

Uh, speaking of which,
could one of you be a dear

and push my eye back in?

- Guillermo?
- Guillermo.

- Also, I think one of my
ears fell off in the foyer,

- if we could... - Which one?
- Does it matter?

Which ear was it
again? The right one.

We need to find The Sire!

I believe his theory.
I always have.

Oh. Shit. They're right,
what are we doing?

- Nobody panic. Everybody...
I'm not panicking!

We're all gonna die!

My sword.

Come on, there's
no time to waste!

Help!

Sorry, there's not chalkboard in
here, so I had to use my mouth.

So, you want to
catch a vampire, huh?

Well, it ain't gonna be easy.

It's not like catching
rats or elderly joggers.

Joggers. Yeah,
that's Jaws, 1975.

The shark kept malfunctioning,
and so Spielberg...

Shut up!

You promoted me
to be a bodyguard.

I believe that I
should be in charge

of catching The Sire.

- All right.
- Yeah. Fuck it. - What?

- Okay, fine. Yeah, sure,
whatever. Don't give a shit.

Now wait just a moment.

You are going to place the
fate of all vampire-kind

into the hands of your familiar?

Well, he's actually quite
a skilled vampire hunter.

- I mean, he killed you.

- gene, he killed Eugene. A very powerful vampire.
- Oh.

Maybe later we'll talk
about Eugene some more,

but, Guide Lady, I
need you to check in

with your intel sources.

How do you know I
have intel sources?

Oh, you don't?

No, I-I do have intel
sources. The Watchers.

Nadja, why don't you
go with her, tag along?

- Maybe you'll learn
a thing or two.

And, Laszlo, why don't
you change your shoes,

'cause those don't look comfy
at all, and you're gonna

- do some groundwork, okay?
- Why don't you get fucked?

Okay. And you go get me
a glass of water, no ice.

Yeah, I wouldn't have a clue

where you would find
something like that.

Don't get cocky.
Eat shit, Guillermo.

Have you got some sack, my boy.

So then, if you don't need
me, I'll be on my way.

Wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, Guillermo.

- Not so fast.

- Not so fast, old
chap. Okay, then.

What are you waiting for?
You have your orders. Go.

- Let's do it.
- Come on.

When I'm in desperate
need of information,

I have two go-to sources.

The Watchers.

Are they meeting us here, or...?

Oh, they're here already.

They've always been here.

I mean, at least since
this building was built.

Hello, ladies.

- Oh, yeah.

- Honey, it's been way too long.
- Oh.

And looks like you
finally made a friend.

Hello. We have a
desperate emergency.

We were wondering if
anyone has spotted

an ancient vampire on the loose?

- About four-foot-nine.
Horrible face. Oh, my.

Completely naked.

Genitalia like nothing
you've ever seen.

You'd be surprised
at what I have seen,

but no, not ringing any bells.

Speaking of ringing
bells, listen to this.

You know how Count
Blake the Torturous

is selling his
haunted clock tower?

- Yes.
- Well, it turns out

they had to lower the
asking price, twice.

- Twice!
- In this market?

I know. Just because
it has half a staircase

doesn't make it a duplex.

Also, yeah, they're, like,
super gossipy bitches.

Oh! Sorry! This is very urgent!

- Back to it, please. We need your help.
- No fun.

All right, I'll check in with
some of the other gargoyles.

Thank you.

Oh, you know, I've heard this
sound at night sometimes,

but I always just thought
it was a passing truck.

Huh!

- Oh.

All right, all right, I've
got something for you.

So, hearing from one of my
'goyles out in Queens...

"'Goyles." We get it.

Low-hanging fruit has
never made me laugh.

Your sense of humor is
so fucking interesting.

Oh, shut up, you old cooze.

- The Sire! The Sire!
- You got it.

A creature that matches
that description

was spotted in Ozone Park.

- Ozone Park. Got it.
- Come on!

- Thank you.
- Uh, wait! Don't you have any hot goss for us?

Quid pro quo, Clarice.

Sorry. Fresh out.

- Got to run!
- Oh! Nice!

I guess see you next time
you need something from us.

- What a pair of messy bitches.
- Yeah.

I'm obsessed.

Sire!
- Where's that magic flute

- when you need
it? Shush, Laszlo.

All right, everyone,

stay alert and stay vigilant.

Careful. He might
be hiding up a tree.

Oh...

Stop!

- What is that?
- Look at these footsteps.

- Something's not right.
- Careful!

Just like I suspected.

Vampire piss.

How do you know what
vampire piss tastes like?

- Just trust me, okay?
- Hmm.

Judging by these tracks,

he's headed... south.

Oh.
- Okay, you heard Piss Man. Let's move.

- She calls for us to move!
- I just fucking said it.

She just fucking said it!

I made a posting on
the website Nextdoor

asking if anyone saw
anything suspicious,

but it-it just
kind of turned into

- an orgy of racism.

- Okay! Come on! This
way! Oh, we must hurry.

- Go, Hellhound. Go, baby.

Careful, careful.

Looks like The Sire
stopped for a snack.

Oh, little snack.
- Probably the security guard.

Yum.
- It's like the meat has been sucked out from the inside,

like a hairy crab leg.

- He probably took the carcass inside.
- The what?

- The "cuh-cass." The "cuh-cass."
- Yes,

- "cuh-cass."
- Which means one thing.

He's trapped.

- This is our chance.
- Great.

- Well, you go ahead and we'll wait here.
- No!

- All your lives depend on this!
- All vampires' lives!

Not mine. Not energy vampires.

This is hopeless.

The sun is going to come
up and, when it does,

it's going to kill that thing
and then we're all going to die

and it's all because of me!

Fucking...

Stop feeling sorry
for yourself, okay?

And help me help you fix this!

Let's go kill that Sire.

- Yeah! - Yeah!
- Yes. Well, no, no!

Let's not kill. We're
not gonna kill it.

- Whoa there, beast! Heel!

No, we're not gonna kill
it, remem... Cursed brute!

A little help, please?

Wow, that freak really
tore this place up.

Where is the ravenous
little monster?

Okay, here's what
we're gonna do.

Nadja, Laszlo,
you'll find The Sire

and corner him to
the back of the store

while Colin Robinson, Nandor
and myself will be there

waiting for him so
he doesn't escape.

And, uh,

Guide Lady and The Baron...

Mm-hmm.
- whatever you do, just do it quietly.

- GUIDE

Come on, my darling. Let's
head for the women's intimates.

- This way.
- Can you stop flashing that thing in my eyes?

Sorry.

Yoo-hoo!

Grijillium.

Now, if I had my magic flute,

this would all be
over in two minutes.

Would you shut the fuck up
about your pissing magic flute?

My magic flute works.

- Grianjistun!

Bloody shit! There he is!

Oh!
- Whoa!

- Shit.

Dring Grinjly.

- Gruj-Grujum!

Oh.

Jin-Jingreelij.

We've come to take you home to
your lovely, cozy prison cell!

What is he doing?

We need something to
get his attention.

Yeah, well, we might be in luck.

We don't have a magic flute.

We got one of these.
Don't mind if I do.

- Careful.

- Oh, yes. That's right.

Come on, big green
baby. Yes, come to Mama.

- Oh, Laszlo, look out!

- My darling!

Fuck me.

Leave him alone!

- Stop it!

Leave my husband alone!

Laszlo!

My darling! Oh!

Are you dead?! My love.

- I think I swallowed
the harmonica.

- Where is that thing?

If I had more time, I would
build something more advanced,

obviously, but...

I think this will
get the job done.

They didn't have any
armor, so I had to make do.

Yeah. See? Yeah, that'll do it.
- Yes.

Yeah.
- All we need now is bait.

No. No.

Yes.
- No.

Why do I have to be
tied to this rope?

So that we can yank you back

moments before you
are viciously mauled.

- Shit. What the fuck is this?

Greetings and salutations!

Laszlo, enough.

You did not swallow
a bloody harmonica.

- Yes... I... did.

Human bait. Obviously! We should
have done this from the start!

Nice little car, Baron!

Oh, I am controlling
it with my mind.

Looking good.

That's great. Where-where
is The Sire, though?

He lunged at us. And he
moves like lightning.

So be prepared to yank that rope

and the human bait
very, very quickly.

Don't care about it. Just yank.

-Negabme. Shit.

Quick! Get out of
here! He can see us!

Make yourself look
appetizing, Guillermo.

Shake your moneymaker.

Enough of this.

Why did you yank me early?

That's what she said.

I just found out about
that series of jokes.

Because you should not
be in this situation.

This is all my doing.

I should be the one that goes
toe to toe with the beast.

Nandor, wait.

Uh, I have something
I need to tell you.

Okay.

I don't think you
should wear that helmet,

because it's going to make
absolutely no difference

when The Sire is crushing you
and mincing you to smithereens.

- Uh, I...
- You look very stupid.

- Okay.
- Take it off.

And I appreciate
you telling me that.

You are a good friend.

Thanks for nothing.

- But I was... trying to save...
- Wish me luck.

Luck.
- Good luck.

Hello, Mr. Sire! I'm
coming to visit with you!

Hey! Hey!

- Hey! Quit! Can you not do that, please?!
- Neberme ate.

- That's not very nice! Hey!

- Neberme ate.
- Please don't do that.

What is Nandor doing?

The beast just wants to be free.

- Neberme ate.
- Ha-ha! Can't catch me! Ow!

- How do you know that?
- Well, that is what it keeps saying.

"Neberme ate." Which means
"do not take me back"

in the ancient vampire tongue.

I thought we all knew this.

You speak its language?

But of course.

- Master, wait! I'm coming!
- Wh...

- Whoa! It's fine.
It's going great.

I think he's getting tired.

- Speak to it. Speak to it.
- Why should I have to speak...

Ko ne dabas, mek?

Ne, ne, ne.

- Oh, oh!

What's so G-damn funny?

Oh. Ladies and gentlemen,

everything is okay now.

Uh, you see,
Goeëjlrm here thought

that you guys
wanted to kill him.

- We did. What?
- No, it... No.

No, no, no, no.

Of course not!

- But now that he has been fed

and knows that he is
safe, everything is okay.

- Oh.
- Enter kate ne atgavo.

Ah. And if you try to put
him back in that cell,

he's going to rip each
of your throats out.

- Fair enough.
- Eh. We could add

some extra hay, you know,

maybe a rope swing.

Enter kate ne atgavo!

- Copy that! Makes
perfect sense.

Come on, old friend.

No one's going to hurt you.

- Can I just say,
on behalf of us...

Oh, fuck it. Doesn't matter.

So we were able to get The Sire

back under Vampiric
Council control.

See? No one's going to hurt you.
We are all, uh, your friends.

Turns out The Sire had an
absolutely excellent sense

of humor. Very dry.

Do you think he'd mind
it if I pulled his tail?

- He likes it! No, no. Aah!

Nandor, leave it,
you fucking idiot.

And we have sorted out

a much more suitable
living situation.

For all involved.

Well, frankly, it has turned out

to be a pretty terrific
setup for all three of us.

-Butam vednum. Oh.

Goeëjlrm has comfort

and space and companionship.

Neves ton tyeknon itho?

Yes, that infernal squirrel.

It drives him to madness.

And the hound

has been able to
really be itself.

Ah, well,

I am thankful to no
longer be suckling

-blood-soaked dirt underground.

- Oh.

It is time.

And we are able to
regularly feed thanks

to the online
service Airbnb.com.

Hello. Is this the Rustic
Remote Airbnb rental?

Yes. Do come in.

You're just in time for...

dinner.

Ladies and gentlemen...

- we got him.

You got him!

♪ He came bursting
out of nowhere ♪

♪ Like a sphere into the sky ♪

♪ And he cast his
light on everything ♪

♪ It was like he'd never die ♪

♪ And he landed
right on target ♪

♪ But the target rolled away ♪

♪ And it left him
pointing nowhere ♪

♪ You could heard
the children say ♪

♪ He's the fellow, the man
who invented himself. ♪

Hillary.

Hillary, wake up.

I'm sorry.

For what?

There's been an event

the world over.

Everywhere, they're gone.

I just can't make sense of it.

How did he survive?

Why him?

Please try to avoid
sudden ships and wait.

Sorry. Hey!

My name is B.J. Novak. I want to
tell you about the show I made.

Every episode is
completely different.

Pop-culture. Sex.

- MAN Revenge. Guns.

Must be training for something

[SPUTTERS]Meaningful issues...

Celebrity worship is better.

Explored through
meaningless comedy.

You never forget a
scrotum like that.

Haunts my dreams.

That's it.

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