All language subtitles for The.Sympathizer.S01E02.WEB.x264-TORRENTGALAXY_eng_sdh

(film projector rolling)

(speaking Vietnamese)

(Captain breathing heavily)

(door opens, closes)

Captain:
"Comrade Commandant,

"I pick it up in America,

but with my heart
still in my homeland."

("Hello L.A.,
Bye-Bye Birmingham" by John
Randolph Marr playing in car)

- (song fades out)
- (aircraft passing)

(indistinct shouting)

(explosions)

(yelling)

(warfare)

(song continues)

♪ Hello L.A.,
bye, bye Birmingham ♪

(explosions)

(panting)

(indistinct shouting)

♪

(explosions)

(tense music playing)

(indistinct shouting)

♪

(gunfire)

(music fades out)

(birds chirping)

(crying)

(lights switch off)

(alarm beeping)

(bay door closing)

(song continues)

♪ Hello L.A.,
bye, bye Birmingham ♪

- ♪ Hello! ♪
- singers: ♪ L.A. ♪

- John: ♪ Bye, bye Birmingham ♪
- singers: ♪ Hello L.A. ♪

- ♪ Bye, bye Birmingham ♪
- ♪ Hello L.A. ♪

(music stops)

- (child laughing)
- (bell ringing)

("Hangin' On"
by The Cantrells
playing in store)

Do you have
any rice starch?

Nope.
We got cornstarch.

'Cause this is
America, not Japan.

(customer chuckles)

Can of cola,
88 cents...

Captain:
And so it was that Man,
with his rice starch,

and I, with my cornstarch,

each of us wrote
a coded letter

using a product
appropriate to our locale.

...and a kiiddy plane.
That's 10.62.

Captain:
I would send the letter
to my contact in Paris,

my so-called
"Parisian Aunt,"

and that contact would
relay it on to Man in Hanoi.

It comforted me to imagine
Man reading my letters

in his efficient new office.

(office phone rings)

("M*A*S*H" playing on TV)

"Ma chère tante,
Texas is scorchingly dry,

"which helps to evaporate
any doubt I might have had

"about leaving my home.

-"Tragically"...
- Captain/Man:
..."in our escape,

Bon lost his family."

Man: "The rockets
from the savage commies

"spared neither
woman nor child.

They were both
buried in Guam."

Captain:
To form my coded message,

I'd scan that repulsive
book by Richard Hedd

to find the right words.

Once the word was found,
I'd make note of the page.

Then, like coordinates,

I'd count the line
and the word.

(tense music playing)

(quietly)
Forty-two.

Six, six.

♪

The coded numbers
would reveal themselves

with a brush
of iodine solution.

With three sets
of numbers for each word,

the sentences
had to be concise.

Even Hemingway would've
had to restrain himself.

(quietly counting to himself)

♪

reporter (on TV):
In international news,

it has been two months now
since the fall of Saigon.

(beds vibrating loudly)

Captain:
Surrendering myself
to the merciless prodding

of the magic fingers
and the nightly news,

I couldn't help thinking
about the General

and that awful incident.

Wait, I'm sorry.
I forgot.

(rewinding)

reporter (on TV):
Saigon, April the 30th,
eight o'clock.

Captain:
I need to go back
to Fort Chaffee

and tell you about
the refugee camp in Arkansas,

where we first set foot
on the U.S. mainland.

reporter:
The first North Vietnamese
troops entered the city,

packed into trucks that flew
the red and blue flag

of the Communist Provisional
Revolutionary Government.

General,
perhaps the dress uniform
is not such a good idea.

General:
My people have been
through a terrible ordeal.

Seeing their
beloved General in
full dress-uniform

will make them feel
fortified and reassured.

Ah!

- (thundering)
- Any word from Claude yet?

Uh, uh, my apologies,

but he did mention
he'd get your family

settled in L.A.
as soon as possible,

or the settlement agency
does have spots in Dallas.

General:
No, I'm takin' my people
to sunny Los Angeles.

(indistinct chatter)

Look, there!
Let me take care
of that vermin!

(groans)

(indistinct chatter)

(light jazz music playing)

(fly buzzing)

♪

General:
And you? Claude is also
sponsoring you, right?

Captain:
I'm not a priority,
but in the meantime,

I've reached out
to an old mentor of mine
in Los Angeles.

Don't worry,
I'll catch up with you
out there before long.

You certainly will,
but if by any chance
your mentor fails you,

reach out
to me at once.

(speaking Vietnamese)

- General: Ah!
- (commotion)

(yelling)

(tense jazz music playing)

(wind blowing)

General:
Cap, my cap!

(mob shouting)

General: Get in!
Get the fuck in there!

Why on Earth are
those women blaming me?

- (flies buzzing)
- Captain: Maybe they
received some misinformation.

What kind of
misinformation?

About, about you
and the organization.

How we lost
through corruption
and incompetence.

How the enemy's revenge
was fueled by cruelty
and torture.

Who?
Who is spreading
these lies?

You know how it is.
Malcontents.

The-The people
for whom nothing's
ever good enough.

Someone who knows me
very well is out to get me.

(sighs) General,
these women are
just angry...

(Captain gagging)

- because of the maggots.
- Then why attack me?

Are you suggesting
I am a maggot?

- (Captain groans)
- Then why else would
my people turn on me?

Unless someone
has infiltrated
our ranks.

A saboteur,
a sympathizer, a spy!

- A spy?
- A germ that stowed away
on our plane!

But it was you
who selected
the passengers,

and so you who is
gonna recheck that list

and report back to me
with everything you find.

A full security check.
Leave no stone unturned.

(mob shouting)

Captain:
When the General's
paranoia is sparked,

the only way to keep safe

is to keep out
of striking distance.

Fortunately, it wasn't long
before an answer came

from that professor of mine
from my college days

agreeing to sponsor
me and Bon.

Perfect, I thought.

I'll go ahead
and prepare a path

and the General's paranoia
will naturally dissipate.

Anyway, that's what
I believed, at the time.

(train horn blowing)

(indistinct chatter)

(Lana grunts)

I don't know
what to say, sir.

To get out before you,
it's really, uh--

Scouts are
always needed.

(Bon snoring lightly)

(distant chanting)

(birds chirping)

Ah, what a blessing.

Thank you for defying
time and nature.

How can it be, despite
the depredations of war,

that you're still
the winsome lad
I remember?

So, presently,

I will introduce you
to my secretary,

who will also
be your boss.

Let's see how
Ms. Mori responds
to my daily greeting.

Oh, konichiwa,
Ms. Sofia Mori-san.
Ikaga desu ka?

- (softly) Watch, watch.
- Sofia Mori: This is America.

If you don't wanna
speak English,

go back to your
own country.

But it's a privilege
to have been born
a Japanese, Ms. Mori.

Please do learn a word
of your lovely language,
for me.

- Sofia: Mm.
- Dou itashimashite.

- (office phone ringing)
- By the way, this is--

Oriental Studies Department,
Chairman's office.

I think he's busy right now.
Can I take a message?

- Captain: Wow. (chuckles)
- Not bad, huh?

Quite the transformation
from a decade ago.

Do you remember
this bottle?

You gave it to me
as a thank you

when you returned
home from Vietnam.

After my mother died.

Feel grateful to you
for the ticket, by the way.

My pleasure.

Funny thing is,
you have arrived just
in the nick of time.

Our foes are scheming
to phase us out

and fold the department
into Asian-American studies,

God help us.

They say, they say
we're colonizers
and imperialists.

I mean, they object
to the very word
"Oriental"

which is derived
from the Latin
"for the rising sun."

Right?
So, pray tell me,

what is objectionable
about the sunrise?

- I mean, you're Oriental.
- Well, half.

Well,
exactly my point.

The perfect symbiosis
of Oriental and Occidental.

I'm not sure I see
myself that way.
(chuckles)

I have an idea.

And this will
be good for you,

- dare I say, therapeutic.
- Therapeutic?

So, (clears throat)
on the left side,

I want you
to make a list of all
your Oriental qualities.

And then
with the right side,
make a list that

contradicts
those qualities.

Right? So, all your
Occidental ones.

Well, one can see
the Oriental side
of you in your...

your snug
little nose,

and yet the Occidental
side peeks through in those

lucid gray-green eyes.

Half-breeds
are the future,
my dear boy.

Oh, listen, I'm having
a little gathering
tomorrow night,

little soiree
courting potential donors
to our program.

I want you to come.

- (Captain chuckles)
- Let's see.

Oh. A few
gently worn garments
for your perusal.

Take them if you like.

Sorry, I don't mean to be
practically streaking.

Here's another
little bag. And my--

And by the way,
here's my tailor's
address.

If there's any alterations,
he's right there, sweet sir.

Um, I didn't
think you'd read
this sorta book.

What sorta book?

Racist rubbish.

- (laughs)
- (knocking on door)

A reporter
is here...

- Professor Hammer: A reporter?
- ...for an interview.

I have
an interview?

Did you feel the support
and solidarity of American
student activists?

(Sofia typing)

(chuckles)
Not so much.

student reporter:
We were all marching.
Ya know, we,

we were on your side.

Really?
And which side
was that?

Uh... the side of
the Vietnamese people.

Oh. Which people?

The people in the North
or the people in the South?

Well,
all of them,
I guess.

Guess we all look
the same after all, right?

I mean...
I could be Viet Cong
for all ya know.

Undercover.
How would you know?

(tense music playing)

(laughs)
I'm not, of course.
I love America.

(chuckles)

So, did you
kill anyone?

("I've Got a Happy Heart"
by Susan Raye playing)

♪ Just take a look
around you ♪

♪ And you won't
feel quite so sad ♪

♪ I've got a happy heart,
I feel like I could... ♪

Captain:
With my own hands?

♪ I think if someone shot me
that I wouldn't... ♪

No. No, I never
killed anyone.
(chuckles)

student reporter:
You were here before
as an exchange student.

How does it feel
to come back after
10 years?

Captain:
I'm in exile from my home.

I feel like I've exchanged
hope for despair.

- (Sofia typing)
- student reporter: Smile.

Excuse me, ma'am.
C-Could you clear frame,
just for a second?

Change your frame, honey.

Captain:
"Ma chère tante,

"I have finally made
it to Los Angeles,

"where I now reside
in a quaint pied-à-terre

"in the heart of the city.

"Not convenient to anything
in particular, but neat.

"I am still doing my best
to take care of Bon,

"but it's not easy.

"He barely speaks.

"I hesitate to use such
language when writing to you,

"but the motherfucker
won't even clean himself.

I'm talking filth
layered on filth
to the point where--"

("Slop" by Charles Mingus
playing at event)

(guests chattering)

♪

Are those chopsticks
in your hair?

- Fuck off. Deviled egg?
- (Captain chuckles)

("I've Got a Happy Heart" plays)

("Slop" resumes playing)

Well, Professor Hammer's
parties always start off
with these.

He likes to compare
himself to an egg.

What,
white on the outside,
yellow on the inside?

- (Captain chuckles)
-"O Captain! My Captain!"

You made it!
Fabulous!
You look spiffy.

Everyone, this is
the young protégé
I was telling you about.

His mother was Vietnamese;
his father was French.

Lovely combination,
as you can see,
but complicated.

Isn't that right,
dear boy?

If only
you knew.

Well, I gave
our young Captain
an assignment

to list his Occidental
and Oriental traits,

right,
to see if he might
begin to untangle

the complex knot
of contradictions

at the core
of his psyche.

Why don't you share
your discovery with us?

Jeff,
can we stop
the music?

- We, we-- Yeah, we--
- (music stops)

- (silence)
- (birds chirping)

(Captain clears throat)

Contradiction.

The crux of the issue
has always been about
the contradiction.

The, uh, Occidental side
of me sees contradiction

as something to overcome,

but the Oriental side
as something to endure.

(guests murmur)

Hence,
the Oriental side of me

is never afraid
to accept contradiction

when faced by an unexpected
turn of events and say...

"I expected this."

But the Occidental side says,
"What? Why did this happen?"

and immediately
begins to analyze.

(quiet laughter)

The Oriental me...

feels...

- comfortable in a crowd...
- (murmurs)

but the Occidental me
is always ready
to take the stage.

I think in two
frames of mind:

"Either/or"
to the Occidental me

and "both/and"
to the Oriental me.

So, accordingly,
half of me values
independence

- while the other half
appreciates interdependence.
- (murmurs)

- Also, the Oriental side of--
- Alright, I-I think we all
get the picture.

- That was great. Yeah, uh...
- (Captain clears throat)

Isn't he,
isn't he great?
Uh, Ms. Mori?

I'm sorry,
I'm so distracted
with your kimono.

Do you mind?
Come here. I'm sorry.

- It'll just take a sec.
- (guests murmuring)

See,
the traditional Japanese,

the nape
of the neck,
unaji,

is one of the most erotic
parts of the human body.

Oh, and they
loved exposing

their erotic parts
to complete strangers.

- (quiet laughter)
- No, I-I'm just saying,
you really should learn

- more about your
heritage, that's all.
- Professor,

I am from Gardena.

No one asked JFK
if he spoke Gaelic

and ate potatoes
every night.

(laughter)

(guests chattering)

("At Midnight" by Paul Lenart
& Billy Novick playing at event)

(ambient nature sounds)

Captain:
He still acts like
a feudal lord. (chuckles)

I mean,
this is the '70s!

Was my unaji
disappointing?

Were you not peeping
at it rather eagerly?

I couldn't stand up
to him back there.

- I'm sorry.
- That's okay.

You play your part
without a flaw.

I mean your
Fresh Off the Boat role.

♪

You know you're
very blunt?

It's not very
"Oriental" of you.

I'm an American.

I see you.

I see how
you act around
our dear Professor,

always smiling like
the Good Asian Student
you used to be.

I recognize the suit.

♪

You wound me, Ms. Mori.
But I can take it.

When faced by
an unexpected
turn of events,

I say,

"Huh...
I expected this."

What are you concealing?

Oh.

Are you hungry?

(clears throat)
No, thanks.

Sofia:
Come on, try it.

Uh, not a fan
of cephalopods.

-"Cephalopods"?!
- (Captain chuckles)

What is it
with you?

You don't like eggs,
you don't eat squid.

speaker:
Tén ten.

Didn't you get the memo?

We Asians are supposed
to eat everything.

(chuckles)
Oh, my.

(speaking Vietnamese)

♪

I know I'm gonna regret
telling you this story.

Oh, embrace
your Occidental side:

Confessing secrets
is the most exciting
thing in the world.

(chuckles)

So, my mother was making
squid as a special treat.

It wasn't until she
had cleaned the innards,

that she realized
we were out of fish sauce.

So off she went to the market

and I was left,
negligently, all alone,

just me...
and the squid.

Sofia:
You-You don't say?

Oh, shit.
Is that even possible?

(mischievous music playing)

(Young Captain panting, moaning)

♪

Captain: I marked
my violated partner

to keep myself from mistakenly
eating it when cooked.

But even a 14-year-old boy
should've had the foresight
to realize

that if I didn't eat it,
someone else would.

(gags)

("At Midnight" continues)

- I'm sure some people
would find the story--
- Disgusting.

You know what's
disgusting?

Is the massacre
of three million
people.

Torture is disgusting.
But masturbation?

Sure, I fucked a squid
and I enjoyed it.

I'm not ashamed.

I believe the world
would be a better place

if we blushed
at the word "murder"

as much as we
did at the word
"masturbation."

♪

I want you to be
completely honest
with me.

Since then,
how many squid
have you screwed?

(groans)

(gasps) Squid fucker!
Oh, he's a squid fucker.

You kinky little bastard.
(laughs)

♪ No, I don't wanna love you ♪

("Anti Love Song"
by Betty Davis playing)

- (moaning)
- ♪ 'Cause I know how you are ♪

- (heavy breathing)
- (moaning)

♪ That's why
I haven't called you ♪

(speaking Vietnamese)

(moaning)

♪

(heavy breathing)

- (grunting)
- (song concludes)

(birds chirping)

(ambient street noise)

(sighs)

(vehicle approaching)

Lana!

Captain:
General, welcome
to your new home.

(General snoring lightly)

General?

(Madame sighs)

(light jazz music playing)

(birds chirping)

(speaking Vietnamese)

(Crapulent Major sniffing)

(vehicle honks)

General:
Hey!

- Done yet?
- Captain: Done what?

What we talked
about at the camp.
Goddamnit!

I mean
(quietly) the spy.

Oh.
(chuckles)

Uh...

I've been
thinkin' about it,
General, and, uh...

maybe there is
no spy after all.

What are you talking about?
Of course, there is. Huh?

But how can
you be sure?

Is there anybody back home
who could, mm, confirm this?

(light, tense music playing)

I was walking
on the sidewalk

and you know what
fell in front of me?

One of those
toilet tank covers,

a white ceramic thing,
a fucking heavy thing.

And that thing
fell all the way
from the fifth floor.

Don't you get it?

An assassination attempt.

I'll look into it.

Don't just
"look into it."

Hunt the traitor down,

deactivate
the rebel activity.

♪

Neutralize the threat.
Do I make myself clear?

Yes, sir.

♪

(quietly) But I'm sure
I can handle it.

- Sofia: What?
- Huh?

You've been
kinda distracted
these last few weeks.

("Capricho Árabe"
by Francisco Tárrega
playing quietly in room)

(baby crying in the distance)

- (both chuckle)
- You're cool.

- You're the coolest woman
in the whole world.
- I know.

- I have a confession.
- Oh, I like confessions.

You know, you're
a very good listener.

The slight wrinkling
of the eyes when you smile.

Oh, the encouraging nod.

You let people
go on thinking

you're perfectly
in agreement
with everything,

all without saying
a word yourself.

(Captain chuckles)

- What's your mother like?
- Hm? My mother?

Hm.

My mother's gone.

Sorry.

She was from
a small village
in the North,

couldn't go
to school.

A very devout
Catholic.

She could
work miracles
in the kitchen.

(chuckles)

- Especially with a squid.
- With a squid?

(both laughing)

A good teacher
to her son.

- Doesn't sound like we have
a fucking thing in common.
- (Captain chuckles)

And yet they say,
for a man to be
attracted to a woman,

she must share at least
one big thing in common
with his mom.

- Maybe that's not true.
- Hm, maybe it is.

Trinh,
a girl I dated
back in Saigon...

she would pronounce
her vowels just like
my mother.

And Nicole...

my girlfriend
when I studied
in the States,

she, uh, she had
these long fingers
just like my mom.

And you,
you and my mother...

you share this...

surreptitious sense
of optimism,

which is foolish
and yet lavish.

- Ms. Mori... I think--
- Sofia.

We've been fucking
for a while now.

Sofia...

I think I'm falling
in love with you.

You sneak.
You stole my confession.

Listen,
if we get involved--

- Aren't we already involved?
- Emotionally involved...

you and I are fucking.

I'm 46 years old.

I've done things
my way my whole life.

I am not about
to change now.

Fall in love
at your peril

'cause the only
kind of love I believe in
is free love.

In other words,
this love...

is free.

(Captain chuckles)

(keys jingling)

Oh, hello there.

Uh, this is Bon.

Oh, blood brother.

- (ambient street noise)
- (outside chatter)

- (tense music playing)
- (Captain sighs)

Oh, uh, so apparently,
our General

is opening
a liquor store. (chuckles)

♪

(siren wailing)

♪

"Focus. Don't ever
underestimate the General.

"Remember how he swallowed
his contempt for your mixed race

"when he knew he could use you?

"He'll do whatever it
takes to get his way.

"You wrote him off,
big mistake.

"We're tracking communications
with his contacts.

Be careful, my friend."

Who could know me so well?

You've never
executed someone
in the street...

- have you?
- No, I'm not saying
I've done such a thing,

but the nature
of what we were doing
back in Saigon--

How could you
be so slow?

Uh, it...
it's written
in English.

It could just be
some racist asshole.

No, someone continues

to deliberately undermine me
at every turn.

It could just
be the Armenian

from the liquor store
at the corner.

Oh, you're saying
the Armenian liquor
store owner in L.A.

conspired
against me

and had the women
at the camp in Arkansas

throw a slipper at me?

- Uh--
- Today is your one chance
to reestablish my leadership

as my Chief
of Communications.

I'm sorry?

I just
appointed you.

(light jazz music playing)

Get the gun!

♪

- (door bell rings)
- (indistinct chatter)

(camera clicking)

Hey.

(camera clicks)

♪

(door bell rings)

(camera clicks)

("Hai Cánh Phuong Buon" by
Truong Hai playing in store)

(indistinct chatter)

Crapulent Major:
Smile!

♪

(camera clicks)

journalist:
There's no such thing
as a second homeland.

A homeland is a homeland
because there's only one
of them.

My, my,
it's Tran Thuyet Son.

- (Captain chuckles)
- Wow. It's been a while since
someone's said my name

with such
a perfect accent.

But I go by Sonny now.

Oh!
Like, Sonny Bono?

(both chuckling)

Last time I saw you
was when?

That seminar
for the Vietnamese
student council?

- Where we had
a difference of opinion--
- Where we had an argument

about the
Ho Chi Minh quote,

"Nothing is
more precious

than independence
and freedom,"

and its application
vis-à-vis our nation.

You know, I remember you
getting all worked up

and screaming,
"Nothing! Nothing!"
and tossing your textbook.

(fake laugh)

You broke the spine.

(both chuckle)

You know what?
Back then,

I thought of you
as a CIA scholarship
student.

(chuckles)
Very funny.

So, what brings
you here?

Skipping the monsoon season
to enjoy some California sun?

Yeah... I admit.
My side lost. Happy now?

Well, I might not
be exactly happy,

but I think
they'll have a shot

at independence
and freedom

now that America's
finally pulled out.

Well, then, how about
you go back to rebuild
the country with them?

(laughs) That's right.
You're an American now.

No offense.

I believe I have every
right to have opinions
about my homeland.

I'm as Vietnamese
as you are.

- Oh, what, because
you kept your surname?
- Arguably...

I'm more
Vietnamese
than you.

You know,
biologically...
No offense.

- ("Hon Trách" by Tuan Hai
playing in store)
- (Captain clears throat)

So, what brings
you here?

Human-interest story.

No story's too small.

By the way, uh, the name.

I get his patriotism,
but in America,

"yellow" means
nothing good,
like urine.

For an Asian shopkeeper,
he's, uh, kind of shooting
himself in the foot.

Just don't bring that up
with the General.

Well, I should
get some quotes.

♪

There's more where
this came from.

(indistinct chatter)

(music stops)

(crowd murmuring)

(speaking Vietnamese}

(laughter)

- Hm?
- (applause)

(door bell rings)

Mm-hmm.

(laughter)

- (tense music playing)
- (chanting)

(music fades out)

(quiet chatter)

(Captain sighs)

(distant siren wailing)

(sighs)

(door opens)

(both chuckle)

- Well, here we are now, huh?
- (Captain chuckles)

No, I-I, uh,
watched the news
of the last helicopter

taking off from
the U.S. compound
over and over...

- Yeah.
- ...hoping to catch
a glimpse of you.

Well,
I'm sorry I didn't
reach out to you.

It's just, you know,
the, the evacuation

left me
considerably
fucked.

I couldn't bring Y Vi.

Oh.

Dammit,
her house was empty.

I whizzed around
the district

on the General's Harley.

I was lookin' for her,
every street,

every nook, cranny,
alley, uh... no avail.

Last chopper was
about to depart...

(emotional)
I haven't cried over
a girl in 30 years.

But, goddamn Y Vi.

- Sorry to hear that.
- (Claude sighs)

So... it's been
quite the shitshow

with, you know,
your colleagues

flingin' dirt
at each other.

Only the spy
says there's
no spy.

(curious, tense music playing)

Look at this gift
Claude gave me.

...44 Auto Mag.

(General exhales)

Claude:
Anybody object to
a little celebratory pop?

- Looks like you
could use it.
- Mm.

(Claude pouring drink)

♪

It's Major Oanh.

Oanh?

A spy?

Which one
of the two Oanhs?
The "chopstick"?

The "dumpling."

The fat Oanh?

Yes.

General:
And where would
you get this idea?

Well, you see, uh,
he's involved in some
kind of business.

What kinda
business?

Uh, I think it has somethin'
to do with, with candy.

Candy?

Captain:
This means he's got
contacts back in Saigon.

He confessed that
he used his background
from the Secret Police

in order to obtain them.

Fat Oanh, receiving
innocuous candies.

Which no one
would ever suspect.

Claude:
Uh, his father's people
come from China.

General:
Which everybody knows you can't
trust that particular breed.

(crunching)

Doesn't taste
like a message.

But again,
he's too fat
to be a spy.

Mm. Maybe, maybe.

And there are
plus sides to a spy who
looks disarming, so...

Hard to say.
I guess we could
check with Saigon.

Oop.

(Claude clears throat)

♪

Believe it or not,
your name came up once.

Really?

- (laughter)
- That-That's funny, right?

(chuckling)
It's very funny.

General:
Hm.

(Claude whistling)

So, uh, by the way,
how's Professor Hammer
treatin' you? Well?

- Uh, sure.
- Great.

- Can I ask
you something?
- Sure.

Why didn't you get
the General's family

out of the refugee
camp sooner?

- (Claude sighs)
- He was waiting
by the phone.

Yeah, I know.
I don't know.

Wanted him to be
grateful to America.

Sometimes, it's good
to remind people
how much they owe you.

- (engine starts)
- Night, kid.

(tires screech)

(kissing, moaning)

(office phone ringing)

- Captain: Don't worry about it.
- Sofia: Wait, wait, wait, wait.

- Captain: Just ignore it.
It'll be fine.
- Sofia: No-- (laughs)

I'm still on duty.
Stop!

Jeez.

Oriental Studies Department,
Chairman's office.

Yes, right.

Yes.
One second.

He says he's
your boss?

- What?
- Thought I was.

(Captain chuckles)

Hello?

General (over phone):
Remember our Chinese
friend, huh?

The one
with the sweet tooth?

Well, I did
a little probing,

and it seems his relatives
back home are safe

and doing rather well!

Meanwhile,
all of our relatives
have been imprisoned

in the so-called
"re-education" camps!

We are starving and dying!

- Do your job!
- (hangs up)

(mysterious jazz music playing)

♪

(music fades out)

(distant siren wailing)

(solemn music playing)

(hammering)

♪

(crying)

♪

(music fades out)

("Do I Move You?"
by Nina Simone playing)

- (siren wailing)
- ♪ Do I groove you ♪

♪ Do I soothe you? ♪

♪ Tell the truth now ♪

♪ Do I move you? ♪

♪ Are you loose now? ♪

♪ The answer better
be yes, yes ♪

♪ That pleases me ♪

♪

♪ Are you ready ♪

♪ For this action? ♪

♪ Does it give you ♪

♪ Satisfaction? ♪

♪ Are you hip
to what I'm sayin'? ♪

♪ If you are ♪

♪ Then let's start swayin' ♪

♪ The answer better
be yes, yes ♪

♪ Great God almighty ♪

♪ That pleases me ♪

♪ Oh! ♪

(song concludes)

(jazz music playing)

♪

(music fades out)