All language subtitles for The Spoils of Babylon s01e05 The Age of the Bastard.eng

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)

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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