Original subtitles

Hello.

My name is Eric Jonrosh.

I wrote tonight's teleplay.

I based it on my best-selling novel, The Spoils of Babylon.

And, of course, I am no stranger to the best seller list.

I've written 13 of them,

ranging from historical fiction to romance.

I've filmed half of them.

Tonight, you'll see some fine directing by myself

and some decent acting by a cast

I personally put together for Spoils.

Bitter memories are associated with some of the scenes.

Methinks the light above is an illusion.

There is no escape from this blackness.

No escape.

Don't worry. I'm not gonna kill myself.

Don't be ridiculous.

What form of torture have you wrought for me, Mephistopheles?

Am I to blather away my waning years,

rehashing old triumphs?

Is that my fate?

The Spoils of Babylon.

Tonight's episode is part five of our thrilling story.

Evil is afoot.

Murder and evil--

all in the name of love.

For what other reason do men commit evil?

For what other reason do men live?

No, seriously, you've got to believe me.

It's critical that you believe me.

I'll have some more wine, please.

And I want to do that one again, but not in this get-up.

I would like a costume change, please.

Who is God's name is in charge of costu--

Won't you enjoy the fifth installment

of The Spoils of Babylon?

Please, dear God, please, pay attention

to the young actor playing Winston.

His name is Marty Comanche,

and I found him sleepwalking through Laurel Canyon,

high on mescaline.

It was a very happy accident that he could act.

Previously on The Spoils of Babylon...

(gunshots) (screams)

My name is Devon Morehouse.

My story is an epic one.

It looks like a carburetor.

It will be our gift to mankind.

Have you told anybody else about this carburetor?

Just your father and your brother, ma'am.

(gunshots)

I kicked heroin. I can't kick you.

I want you to guide this company going forward.

You're not even on the board anymore.

(laughs)

It's that tyrant, my sister.

She's shutting us down.

He's gone mad.

He's gonna bring this whole company down.

If Devon won't come here, then I shall go to him.

This is my life, or what remains of it.

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Dearest father, Europe is a king-sized gas.

Hey, man, it is my bag.

All the kittens and ankle-biters

Are going ape for my tunes,

including famed talent scout, Nifty Rodgers,

who thinks he can get me a record deal with Quest Records.

Got to shag ass.

Will write again soon.

Love you. Marianne.

Her letters were like a fine beaujolais.

They fed my soul.

So much life in them.

She was growing to be quite the young woman.

(upbeat music)

(screams)

(panting)

(phone rings)

Oh, dear lord Jesus.

Hello.

Devon, is that you?

Cynthia.

It is really you.

I was just getting out of the shower, Cynthia.

Why are you calling?

You know damn well why I'm calling, Devon.

It's these attacks on me and Morehouse Conglomerated.

Well, I thought you might call.

We need to talk.

So talk.

It's your dime.

Not like this.

Why don't you come out to the Institute?

Could be quite educational for you.

All right, Devon. Have it your way.

I'll meet you on your terms.

But don't expect me to be persuaded

by your pseudoscience and poetry.

Bye, Devon.

What's going on in that head of yours, Cynthia?

Is this thing really safe?

Perfectly safe.

Oh, what's that over there?

Pithicantius jumborius.

Commonly known as great white sharks.

The deadliest creatures on earth... Next to man.

Will they attack?

Only if threatened.

Sharks, like people, are territorial.

You have come here to protect Morehouse Conglomerated

and its stockholders.

I agreed to meet you

because I am here to protect all of this.

Devon, is it so wrong? I'm a businesswoman.

Morehouse needs its offshore drilling.

It needs its munitions factories.

It needs its chemical warfare development centers.

Take that away, and what are we?

A company that our father envisioned.

A company that serves mankind for the greater good.

And how will we survive, huh?

On the false promise of power from the sun?

On unicorns and rainbows?

On a carburetor that runs on little gas?

(scoffs)

How do you know about the carburetor?

Huh? Oh, nothing... Really.

No, I was talking about a barberetor that suns on

cherry brittle sass.

(sighs) It's Father.

Father told me in his delirium.

Did they ever find the mysterious carburetor?

Oh, no.

No.

- Huh. - Never found it.

- That's funny. - I know.

Funny indeed.

Oh, thank you.

- Hello. - Hello.

Oh, my. (chuckles)

Um, how's the prime rib?

- Pretty prime. - I'll have that. Thank you.

Excellent choice, madam. And for you, sir?

I'm just trying to find any vegan options here.

Come on, man, it's an underwater steakhouse.

Give me a break.

Well, prime rib is fine.

- (chuckles) - Thank you.

Thank you so much.

- Oh, and another thing? - Yes, ma'am?

Ah, yes, could I have a carafe

of tomato soup, two turkey legs--

- Very nice. - I'd like some cold cereal

with some hot milk, two pots of tea,

and a white wine in a coffee mug with a little bit of salt in it.

- Okay, salt in it. - Thank you so much.

- Very good. Thank you. - Thank you.

- Oh, and one more thing. - Yes?

Could I have a cotton blend napkin?

Sometimes when you iron out the regular napkins,

they're too itchy for my thighs.

- I understand. - Thank you very much.

- (laughter) - Thank you.

Buh-bye. - Thank you.

This here is the central brain

for the whole research laboratory.

As you can see, it's quite complex.

It took me years to build this,

with some help from my associate Dixie Melonworth.

Actually, Devon's being modest.

(laughs)

Computers aren't my strong point.

- Oh. - What is your strong point?

Oh, I'm a marine biologist, missus...

Morehouse.

- Cynthia Morehouse. - Oh.

And if you're a marine biologist,

I am a space astronaut.

- Dix-- I-I mean, Dr. Melonworth has a-a PhD.

in oceanographic studies.

Come on, Devon. Everyone knows she's your tart.

(gasps)

- (gasps) - How dare you?

I am a scientist.

What kind of science do you need to lay on your back?

What?

You got a lot of nerve.

Well, and you've only got one nerve,

and it's in his pants.

- I will not stand here and be insulted by this cold bitch.

(gasps) How dare you call me that?

If you're gonna slap somebody,

you really should put more effort into it.

You call that a slap?

Yes. An "s-l-a--"

Slap.

Honey, I can go all day.

I'm sure you can, with your legs in the air.

At least I know what it feels like.

To be a prostitute?

- To be a woman.

(both grunting)

- (whistles) - Oh!

(chuckles)

That was, uh, wonderful. (clears throat)

Dixie, um, please, leave us for a second.

I just-- I must have a word with my sister.

It's cool.

Look to your heart.

The world is changing.

We can make it a better place for our children.

I-I "besqueech" you,

Give up the munitions

and chemical warfare side of the business.

Why did you sell off all of your stock?

I hated what the company-- my company, had become.

I will consider selling off our munitions business,

our chemical warfare plants, and I might even reconsider

the offshore drilling operations, under one condition.

Name your price.

- You return to the company. - Never!

I will grant back your share of Morehouse stock.

You will be named the chief of Research and Development.

You can keep this underwater laboratory,

and you can keep that little tart as well.

- But, Cyn-- - You will also have access

to a company car, company plane,

and three company bicycles.

You'll have a lifetime supply of beef.

- Cyn-- - After five years

of employment, you will also be entitled

to a small beach shack.

You will have fresh orange juice delivered to you every day.

You have free child care for your friends only.

Not for you.

After ten years, we will pay

for any hair transplant surgery you wish to get.

- But, Cynthia-- - This is only the beginning,

but I won't go into it now.

(sighs) You drive a hard bargain, sis.

And I have one condition of my own.

I'm listening.

I will come back to Morehouse Conglomerated.

I will work here and in the New York office,

But we shall never cross paths.

Please, Devon.

I "besqueech" you.

Is it that bad?

I mean, do we love each other that much?

Take it or leave it.

(sultry music)

Winston's not gonna like this.

Mother, how could you?

After all I've done to secure those military contracts,

After all the Washington insiders I paid off.

Winston, the writing is on the wall.

We're not in the weapons business.

People are against the war.

We need to do something good in public relations.

- You never loved me. - We need--

You never loved me!

Ever since the day I was born,

there has been some blight against me.

I represent some terrible shame for you.

You don't have to tell me,

I've felt it every day of my life.

This is how you repay my loyalty.

This is how you show your appreciation

for my years of undying devotion.

Everything I've ever done or dreamed of doing

has been for your approval.

And for what?

For what?

To be cast aside for a brother you hate.

Winston, I think it's time for a new assignment.

I'm sending you to Saudi Arabia to work with my Arab friends.

Am I to be exiled?

Exiled? Exiled?

There's quite a market for foreign oil.

- It's a good opportunity. - Please, mother.

I was doing so good.

Please don't send me away.

I'm sorry, son.

There's no need for you here.

I hate Devon Morehouse.

I hate him with every fiber of my being.

You can't hate him...

because he is your father!

He is your father.

My father?

But you and he are--

(sighs) I see.

Perhaps I should've never been born!

Perhaps I should've never been born!

But you were.

And I both loved you and hated you for it.

I shall destroy him.

Perhaps not the man himself, but everything he loves.

But everything he loves.

I hate him.

I hate him for your loving him,

more than my hatred for the lack of love for me,

born out of your hatred of your loving him

more than your hatred of my hatred,

for the forbidden love you hated to have for him,

hidden within my love for you.

I hate him for the love he hated to have for you,

and for your own hatred of love,

hidden within your love of hatred,

wrapped within your love for me!

I... hate... him.

(upbeat music)

Just the other day what did I see

Alone in the valley in front of me

The most beautiful sight I could behold

A butterfly landing on a marigold

Dr. Dixie Melonworth drowned while swimming in the ocean.

I never understood why.

She couldn't swim, and she hated water.

I missed her terribly.

That sharp, scientific mind and her boobs.

But I continued to work as head of Research

for Morehouse Conglomerated.

Chet what's-his-name, Cynthia's husband,

passed away too.

No one really noticed.

Cynthia and I worked very well together,

rebuilding the company's image and its mission.

We kept our bargain.

We never saw each other in person.

Our love could not bear even a chance encounter.

It seemed for a while like peace

would come to the Morehouse name.

But then, we had all forgotten about...

Winston.

(exotic music)

Tell me, Mr. Amed,

If I deliver what you want to your Shah of Iran,

what guarantee do I have

that he will honor his end of the bargain?

The Shah has given his word.

If it is true that you can give us what we want, then fear not.

Morehouse Conglomerated will gain handsomely

from our dealings.

And myself?

(laughs)

A large sum will be placed

in a Swiss bank account with your name.

(laughs)

A telephone call for Mr. Winston.

It is urgent.

Excuse me.

Winston, is it true?

What, dear mother?

You were not present at the meeting of OPEC.

Where are you?

I know what I'm doing, mother.

We will be ruined without the help from the Arabs.

We need that oil! We are in a recession.

Gas is going through the roof. We have to make a deal.

I am making a deal, mother!

I'm making a much better deal

than you could've possibly imagined.

It's my mother.

- What are you up to? - Good-bye, mother.

- Bye-bye. - Winston!

Winston!

Damn you!

My apologies, gentlemen.

Mother is an emotional person.

- (laughs) - (speaking native language)

Now, where were we?

So do you have the documents you talked about?

Oh, I have the documents.

But do we have a deal?

Yeah, the Shah himself will sign the deal

once the documents are handed over.

Good.

And the Shah shall come to New York as planned.

The Shah will be at your mother's annual gala

for the arts.

The transaction will take place there.

You shall have your oil.

You tell your Shah...

that he shall have his nuclear bomb.

(both laugh)

(overlapping chatter)

We have got to do something. This company's going under.

We need to make a deal with the Arabs.

The Arabs have money.

It's no use.

We are the only major oil company

without a deal with OPEC.

We can't survive.

The Arabs are buying. We have to sell.

Gentlemen!

We do not have a deal with the Arabs.

We'll have to find another way.

This is all your fault, Cynthia.

You put that worthless son of yours, Winston,

in charge of our foreign sales,

and he couldn't make a deal

if it was free ice to the Eskimos.

Not my best.

You know what I mean.

Morehouse Conglomerated is finished.

Where is Winston?

I have it on good authority,

Winston has told me himself, he has made a deal.

What-- What kind of a deal?

(overlapping chatter)

Gentlemen, you have the--

damn, what are they called again?

Oh, yeah.

Documents?

Of course, you know that if these documents come to light,

the military has no knowledge of said such documents,

nor any knowledge of how they got into the wrong hands.

More than understood, sir.

Here's the plan.

One, your man, the Shah of Iran,

shall have his nuclear bomb.

Two, the balance of power in the Middle East

shall shift favorably to the West.

Three, Morehouse Conglomerated

will be more powerful than OPEC.

And oh, yeah, four, we shall all be a lot richer.

(laughs)

I haven't the slightest idea

what documents you're talking about.

More than more than understood.

So you have these documents?

Well, we have this briefcase.

It's filled with documents

and other papers of a document nature,

but I have no idea what the contents is, of course.

These are the documents that one would need

of one was making a nuclear bomb?

- Oh, these? - These documents?

- Huh, who knows? - Nor would we want to know.

More than more than understood, gentlemen.

I shall make sure that these documents

get into the right hands.

I'm not sure what documents

you're talking about.

- Good day, gentlemen. - You were never here.

(sighs)

Oh, Rod, I hope we know what we're doing.

It's the only way, Herman.

If the Arabs control the oil supply,

this country's gonna fall apart.

There'll be rioting in the streets.

Utter chaos.

Do you think President Jimmy Carter's got

the pope-sized cantaloupes to get us through this mess?

No, of course not, Rod. Of course not.

And I'll be goddamned

if my grandchildren are going to wait in line

to pay 75?? or even 80

For a gallon of gas.

It's not going to happen!

It's not gonna happen.

It's not what we're fighting for.

- Rod?

Yes, Herman.

I think I'm falling in love with you.

But I've never had the courage to let you know

What was in my heart, until now.

(soft music)

(mouthing)

(cries)

- I wanted to spend a little time tonight

talking about the importance of lighting,

But there's some kind of baboon here

telling me that I won't have time.

I really don't even know what that means.

I have all the time in the world to discuss

lighting for film and television production.

The subject lends itself to long discourses

and theories, for which I have many.

So it makes no sense to me,

Eric Cransler Jonrosh,

that I'm being told I can't talk.

By the way, how long are these shows

we are doing going to last?

30 seconds?

Really?

30-- Wait, 30 seconds to talk about lighting?

Impossible.

We will need to go over

and use up time from one of the other shows.

That's possible, right?

I should think that would be possible,

that we could just borrow time from-- from some of the other--

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