All language subtitles for Duckman - 4x15 - Ebony, Baby-ing

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Original subtitles

(door creaks open)

(whistles)

(duck quacks)

(crickets chirping)

I want to thank you all

for this touching farewell dinner.

Although tomorrow I begin my first vacation in 11 years,

I won't be squandering it on mindless hedonism.

Instead, I'll explore those spiritual, mystical places

of which I've always dreamt--

the Pyramids of Cheops, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon,

the outlet mall on Route 5.

It's 40 percent off all suede jackets.

I just wish that... well, Duckman were here.

(sobbing hysterically)

Don't cry, Duckman.

I'll call you every day

and send postcards and snowglobes.

Will you get the hell out of here already?

I'm crying 'cause they closed my favorite strip club--

the Happy Firepole.

I knew that.

My weekend, my month, my millennium-- ruined.

Where else am I supposed to scope out

scantily-clad slinky sexpots?

Fashion magazines.

This is great!

It's nothing but porno for women for men.

And look, no sores, no bruises, no lumps.

These model-babes are totally different

than the dregs I'm used to.

I got to find a way to break into this fashion scam,

preferably through its well-appointed cleavage.

(Euro disco plays)

Yowser! Yowser!

Bring on the sand-flecked salinated sea nymphs!

Good evening.

I am Victor Demann.

(applause)

Not exactly what I had in mind,

but he does have a nice tush.

And this is my summer collection.

First off, Janeane!

(audience oohing)

(applause)

Hey!

Howdy doody, Ice Princess.

I know it's just monopoly money

but trust me-- you can always pawn them off

on some ignorant Third-World cabbie.

Oh!

Hmm. Ground-breaking choreography.

Whoa!

Next we have... Katrina.

(audience oohing and aahing)

(applause)

What do you say, beanpole?

Looks like you could use some grocery money.

(screaming)

And now for my latest, greatest discovery,

it is my pleasure to introduce Miss Ebony Sable!

(cheering and applause)

* Ebony *

* She's my proud, beautiful black sister *

* Ebony *

* What you doing, girl? *

* She's super bad. *

Uh, excuse me, Miss.

I'm not usually like this... polite to women, I mean

but I must confess...

you are one charming negress.

Back off, jack!

You idiot!

Now, Janeane.

(audience gasps)

(gasps) Oh, my God!

Not on my watch, sister girl.

How's about I whisk you off

to this little romantic restaurant I know?

It's all-you-can-eat knockwurst night.

Not now, chump.

(gunshot) (all gasp)

Nothing to worry about.

It's just a flesh wound!

(body thuds, car alarm blares)

Now it's your turn to die.

Honey child, don't count your chitlins until they're boiled.

Nothing to worry about.

It's just a flesh wound!

(body thuds,) car alarm blares)

(rapping on door)

Freeze!

It's cause I'm black, ain't it?

Uh, actually, it's because there are two dead people,

and you're holding a gun.

Name's Ebony Sable, private investigator.

Victor Demann was my client and hired me to protect him.

I ain't never lost a client before.

DUCKMAN: Yeah, the first dozen or so are always the hardest.

But this is your lucky day.

I, too, am one of those private investi... eh, whatever.

I can help.

You?

How's a sorry little bag-a-baby bones like you

going to help me?

Uh, braid your hair? Hand-rinse your hot pants?

Describe the guy who ordered Victor Demann's murder?

Say what?

Ow! Come on, sucker.

We heading to the cop shop.

So I can hand-rinse your hot pants?

(distant siren wailing)

DUCKMAN: And his eyes were more deep-set.

Yes, yes, like that.

His nose a little more crooked.

Wait. Yes, that's him. That's him.

That's exactly his disgusting pus-filled pug-ugly mug.

Whoo-oo!

(screams)

(groans)

You want to know something?

You are one jive turkey.

Actually, turkeys have that little wattle thing. Ow!

Don't you go giving me lip.

Punk, you ain't nothing 'cept some worthless cracker,

and I don't never want to see yo' butt-ugly butt again.

(ninjas yelling)

Um, I don't think that's going to be a problem.

Man, you get into situations.

(knife clangs)

(Ebony yelling)

(knife swishes)

(ninja yelling in Japanese)

Man-oh-Manischevitz.

That was the pink Cadillac of butt-whippings.

To think of the years I've wasted with Cornfed

searching for "glues" and "cruspects" and "evidins"

when I could've been out on the street

kicking some serious booty.

Let me study under you, o great badass detective one.

Please, oh, please, oh, please, oh, please, oh, please?

Just know the only reason I'm keeping you 'round here

is to hang your scrawny little butt

flapping in the breeze.

You going to be the bait

that leads me to Victor's killer

just by playing the fool.

And, Ebony, baby, I play for keeps.

(distant police siren wailing, gunfire)

(nearby gunshot)

I guess the endless prosperity

of the Reagan-Bush era missed a spot.

Yeah, it never got to be morning in this America.

Now, stay close. I got to protect your little bony behind

till we put Victor's killer on ice.

Do you think I'm still in danger?

(guns cocking)

Yup.

You shouldn't stick your nose in

where it don't belong, baby.

Now, you're gonna die.

I'm not gonna die.

If I was gonna die, my life'd be flashing before my eyes.

* *

(echoing): Duckman...

Duckman!

(gasps)

You missed all the fun.

Ooh! Whoa!

Flawless victory.

Finish him!

No.

I need you alive

to give your boss a message.

Tell him I'm going to find him and when I do,

it's going to rain pain and hail hurt.

"Rain pain... hail hurt."

But we still don't know who his boss is.

Why didn't you ask him?

That fool's just a fool, fool.

If you want to find out what's really real,

there's one man you got to see.

(horn blaring)

Yo, get your airhorn here!

Step right up, folks.

Damn airhorn barkers.

Let just one in

and there goes the neighborhood.

Eh... heh-heh. Color me quirky

but I-I get the feeling I'm not welcome.

Man, we need what this guy's got.

Name's Taanzi, and he is one crazy dude.

If there's any word on the street, Taanzi knows.

You'll be okay, long as you make like a pink packet.

Stay sweet

and low.

Well, look who's here.

How you doing, Ebony,

my strong, beautiful, black sister?

I ain't seen you in...

what the (airhorn blares)?

How'd this vanilla sneak into my sundae?

It's okay, Taanzi, he's with me.

Oh, Ebony, girl!

That (blare)'s weak.

Why you playing in the snow

when you know it's coal that's going to keep you warm?

Uh-huh. I'll bet there's a lot of women

warming themselves on that coal.

What's all this about?

The revolution.

The time for talk is past.

For our people to survive,

we must kill every white mother(blare) in the world.

(gulps)

That's right. You heard me,

Mother(blare), but you can relax for now,

'cause no matter what you think,

I ain't no mother(blare)ing savage.

That's why I'm sending each and every white mother(blare)

a letter, giving him or her 30 days to commit suicide.

Let 'em settle their affairs and (blare) before they die--

you know, like who gets their mother(blare)ing Volvos

and their Celine Dion records and (blare).

Last thing I need is a lot of mother(blare)s dying intestate,

you know, leaving me their hassles and (blare).

(phone ringing)

Hello, thanks for calling

"30 days, mother(blare)."

This is Taanzi.

What's so mother(blare)ing hard

to understand, mother(blare)? Did you get the letter?

Well, did you read the letter?

Well, like it says, you got 30 days to kill yourself.

What don't you "get"?

"And then what?"

Then I come down there myself

and put your honky ass

in the mother(blare)ing dead letter office.

You "get" me now?

Yo, Pillsbury, you got something to say,

you funny-looking mother(blare)?

N-n-no, I sure d-don't, Fonzi.

Fonzi? Do you see me hitting

any mother(blare)ing jukeboxes?

Do you see mother(blare)ing Chachi, or Potsie

or Ralph mother(blare)ing Malph anywhere?

My name is Taanzi, bitch, and don't you forget it.

So shut the (blare) up, mother(blare)r.

My (blare) is for mother(blare).

Who mother(blare)ing know the (blare) who the (blare)

(blare) (blare) (blare).

You want to watch your language?

These horns are driving me crazy.

Sorry. Damn honkies.

Enough shop talk. What do you need?

Information. One of my clients

was murdered-- Victor Demann.

I should have known you was working for Demann.

Word is, the hit came from Wilhelm Vanderklerk.

Some of Vanderklerk's hired muscle hangs out

at the blues club on Belmont, the Black Note.

(ringing)

Damn! Can't white people read?

You get that. We'll go.

Stay strong, baby.

Hello.

No, a doctor's note will not help, (blaring).

The Black Note doesn't open for a couple of hours.

We'll just wait here.

That was pretty brave of you back there.

Going for that big dude.

Ah, that was pure adrenaline.

Sometime tomorrow, I'll realize what I did

and cry like a little girl.

(laughing)

I'm not kidding.

Oh.

You know what I like about you?

The way you say whatever you think

no matter how stupid it is.

You're definitely your own man.

Thanks.

You know what I like about you?

Yeah-- my legs.

(laughing): Now, that's not true.

I also like that you have really big breasts,

and I like that I can see almost all of them

every time you lean forward.

And I like your tight round butt

and I don't know if it's that lipstick or what,

but your mouth is making me really hot

and your legs are, too.

Well... then I know

the reward I'm going to give you

for saving my life.

(romantic music playing)

* Oh, baby *

* All night, all night... *

(door slams open)

What the...?

Hey, fellows, stop!

Or at least wait 30 seconds.

15 if she helps.

Ooh...

Oh, no. They grabbed Ebony.

I've got to save her life.

I've got to protect my partner.

I've got to see if she can put both ankles behind her head.

Don't worry, Ebony--

your super-bad lover-man is on his way.

(disco music playing)

Yeah, I'm bad.

Oh, I'm bad.

I'm the worst.

Ain't nobody worser than me.

Yo, bro, how you fro?

Dyn-o-mite!

What's happening, my proud black brother?

I hope you's down, my man, 'cause I am up for being down.

S'cool, s'wonderful, s'marvelous.

Check your booty at the door, you dig?

Word to your mammy.

Oy.

(playing blues music)

DUCKMAN: Wow. What a fantastic place.

It resonates with the mingled tears and laughter

of a hundred generations.

I'd hang out here myself if they had naked dwarf races.

Okay, Taanzi said Vanderklerk's goons hung out here.

One of them must have grabbed her.

You some funked-up thrill seeker

or are you just stupid?

My friend, I've spent a lifetime trying to answer that question.

Wait a minute.

What would Ebony do in a situation like this?

She'd get what she needed through sheer force of will.

All right, listen, LeRoy Brown.

Listen up, all of you!

I am your worst nightmare-- a duck with an attitude.

I know you hate me, though I can't figure out why.

If we hadn't freed you people back in World War II,

you'd all be speaking Japanese now.

All I know is, there's a girl missing,

some hepcat named Vanderklerk's behind it,

and you'd better give me the 555-1212

or you'll be waiting to exhale

while I dry out your raisins in the sun.

(growling)

(siren wailing)

(phone ringing)

Aaiiiee!

It's for you.

I told you people a thousand times,

I'm not switching long-distance carriers.

Hello, Mr. Duckman.

My name is Wilhelm Vanderklerk

and you're right-- I have your girlfriend.

Oh, please, please, don't puncture her!

Ebony Sable.

Oh, no, I like her, too.

I've kidnapped your family and Sable

and your family!

You fiend.

You'd better not lay a hand on Ebony or Bev or the boys.

Do what you want with the loudmouth lardass.

(tires screech)

(siren wailing)

"Drop me here" is just an expression!

Mm-hmm. Day players.

(muffled protests)

VANDERKLERK: No need to struggle.

No need to worry.

After all, Duckman is coming to rescue you.

Duckman?!

If you'll excuse me, I must visit another...

guest.

By the way,

in case you hadn't guessed,

your employer Victor Demann and I were allies

until he became frightened by the breathtaking

audacity of my incredible plan.

What plan?

No time for that now.

All right, just kill me.

Kill you?

No, Ebony, to kill a woman like you

would be such a waste.

Much better

to humiliate you, take you out of action.

Oh, my Lord, my sweet Lord!

Not Jheri Curl!

Oh!

EBONY: Duckman! How'd you get in here?

Secret tunnel. Previous owner.

(laughing)

Ow!

(growling)

Damn you, Sable.

You have more lives than a cat.

A black cat.

And I'm crossing your path.

That's the guy at the fashion show.

Thanks, baby.

That's two I owe you.

But you'd better step aside.

Ebony's hungry,

blood's on the menu and you're vegetarian.

Nuh-uh, my proud black queen.

From here on out

or in-- I've never been sure which--

I'm gonna be your white shadow.

Duck, you the man.

* Ebony, she's super bad. *

I'm a diversion!

I'm a diversion!

I'm going for Vanderklerk.

Melt away, snowflakes.

This ain't going to be pretty.

You seem to forget we're suburban white girls.

That means we know how to clean house.

(karate yells)

We took Tai Chi at the Learning Annex.

Okay, sisters, let's mess with the misters.

* *

(helicopter blades whirring)

Vindercluck!

Vanderklerk.

And now I will return to my native land,

a place where white people exploit blacks,

a land ruled

by intolerance and brutality and fear.

My God, what kind of sick and twisted country

do you come from?

America.

Oh, seems a bit harsh.

And now, to eliminate the witness.

(screams)

Sable.

It's just you and me now...

boy.

Well, there's me, too,

but if this is some kind of a fight-to-the-death thing,

I can wait downstairs.

Sable, you're worth 20 of my men.

You're only in it for the money.

Why not come with me?

You just don't get it, do you Vanderklerk?

I ain't coming with you

'cause you be bad.

Bad in the sense of cool?

No. In the sense of scum-sucking slug.

Damn. I hate slang.

(yelling)

Um...

he's that way.

Oh.

(clicks)

(groans)

VANDERKLERK: How the hell do you work this thing?

It's over, Duckman.

I don't say this to a lot of guys, but thanks.

You did me solid, jack.

Yeah.

Listen, Ebony, uh, no offense,

but what is it with all the '70s stuff?

I mean, the hair, the clothes, the language?

How come you do all that?

White writers.

Well, D-man, I guess this is it.

Wait, Ebony.

Don't go.

You got to stay here.

I want to hear more about the black experience.

I want to learn how we can live together in peace and harmony

and most important of all,

I want another chance to unfasten your bra.

Sorry, Duckman.

I've got to move on.

I'll miss you.

But in your heart, you know we're different.

I'm a lone wolf.

You're a cowardly, sexist moron.

We almost had something, didn't we, babe?

Yeah. Almost.

Good-bye, Duckman.

Stay cool.

I gots no other way to be.

TAANZI: You funny-looking mother (airhorn blares).

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