All language subtitles for Freaky Stories - 3x05 - Ouija Board Fountain of Youth Houston, We Have a Problem So Long Sing Sing_Legendas01.ENG

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[crying]

What??

I miss my family!
[crying]

You've got a family?

Oh, this I gotta hear about.

Right after our
first freaky story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Now you wouldn't think us
prison guards can be friends

of inmates.

But I guess I kinda
took a liking to Jake

'cause he was clever.

Turned out he was too
clever for his own good.

Jake was a pretty bad guy.

In trouble with the
Law all his life.

Started out stealin'
candy from babies then

downhill from there.

Was in and out of reform
school for years 'til he

finally got caught
robbin' a jewelry store.

The judge threw
the book at him.

20 years hard time
in Sing Sing Prison.

Maybe the words Sing Sing
sound kinda nice to the ear,

but it's one of the
toughest joints around.

Jake fit in swell.

The Warden gave Jake a little
talk when he got there.

You know, the usual.

"Keep your nose clean.

No one escapes
from Sing Sing."

That kinda stuff.

Jake took it in,
but he was thinkin',

"I'm getting outta here and
ain't nobody gonna stop me."

Okay, so Jake wasn't
so hot with grammar,

but when your smarts
are street smarts,

sometimes you don't end
up speakin' good English,

like me.

Jake got tossed in a
cell with an old guy.

Real old.

Name of Benny "The
Beanpole" Burger.

Skinny as a match,
but not so firey.

Had a wooden leg, and a
glass eye an' a nose you

wouldn't wish on a clown.

Benny had been in stir since
before the birth and death

of disco.

Rumour was he knew the
Birdman of Alcatraz back

when he was the
Eggman of Alcatraz.

At first Jake and Benny
got on like oil an' water.

Old Benny made noises
when he slept

and it drove Jake nuts.

Eventually, Jake got used to
Benny's hacking and honking.

Besides they had
somethin' in common.

Benny, when he was
younger, was all the time

tryin' to escape.

He tried digging a
tunnel under the wall.

Tied sheets together
to hoist himself out.

He even tried the old
file-in-the-cake trick.

Thirty-seven times he tried
an' 37 times he failed.

Even though his success
rate was pretty lousy

Jake admired the old guy's
stick-to-it-tiveness.

But then old
Benny got real sick.

As he lay dyin' in
the prison hospital

Jake was by his side.

Benny motioned for Jake to
lean into him an' whispered

in his ear, "Make
the break, Jake.

For old Benny's sake."

Then he went off to
that Big House in the Sky.

This encouragement from
the guy who had practically

become Jake's father, was
just the boost Jake needed.

Back in his cell Jake
picked up his favorite book,

about Harry Houdini, the
master of escape artists.

Flippin' through it he saw
a picture that gave him

an idea.

The next day just before
Benny's funeral Jake made a

call to a friend
on the outside,

a friend who happened to be
one of the best highjackers

north of the border.

Jake told him to wait
near the local cemetery and

highjack Benny's coffin.

An unusual
request to be sure.

But Jake knew this
highjacker could not resist

a challenge.

After the other Cons paid
their respects to the dear

departed Benny, Jake slipped
into the coffin and pulled

the lid shut.

Now, like I said, Jake
was a pretty tough guy,

but even a tough guy can
get creeped out layin' in a

coffin next to a stiff.

But then gettin' out of
the joint was worth

a little creepiness.

Later, the mortician and
his assistant came in.

They bolted the lid down,
then lifted the coffin onto

their trolley.

It was kinda heavy, sure.

But they figured the guy in
the coffin must be one of

those body-builder guys.

As the coffin rolled along
Jake was havin' trouble

not gigglin'.

He was on his
way to freedom.

Everything was coming
up roses, as they say.

Jake had plans,
plans for burglaries,

heists, robberies.

He couldn't wait to
get back into the game.

Jake heard some
doors openin' and closin'.

Then the rollin' stopped.

He figured they were about
to place the coffin

inside the hearse.

But Jake figured wrong.

He heard a
roarin' kinda noise.

Finally, the
coffin started to move.

Then Jake noticed it
was gettin' kinda hot.

Real hot.

Especially near his feet.

An' he smelled
somethin' burnin'.

Unbeknownst to Jake, was
somethin' that was becomin'

very clear, very quickly.

His good buddy Benny
requested a cremation.

As his feet began to blister
Jake let out a huge yell

an' pounded like a
madman on the lid.

The coffin stopped
rollin', then backed up.

As the mortician's assistant
put out the fire his boss

cracked open the lid.

Jake pulled himself up and
stared right into the eyes

of the Warden.

"This is a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine."

Jake became a
model prisoner,

content to live out the
rest of his sentence just

doin' whatever me and
the other guards said.

The words "I will not try to
escape" were burned into his

memory ..and his feet.

Wanna see a
picture of my family?

We've got a show to do.

Bring it in, Mario!

Huh? Can you see the
family resemblance?

But that's, that's...

Well it's an aerial shot
taken from three feet

off the ground by
my uncle Eustace.

Our next freaky story.

Oh, look, Aunt
Felicity and the twins!

You can hardly
tell them apart.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

There were a couple of
cousins who'd happened to

inherit the same mansion
from Grandmama and lived

there together for
most of their years.

Couldn't have been two
more opposite girls.

The older one, Tammy, spent
all her time primping and

preening and
tanning and steaming.

The younger cousin, Agatha, was
more of the book worm type.

Tweed was the closest thing
to slinky she ever wore.

She'd pass her cousin Tammy
lounging by the pool on her

way out to some bird
watching expedition and

comment about
ozone and sunscreen.

But Tammy'd give her no more
notice than a stern warning

to keep out of her light.

See Tammy only cared
what boys thought.

And there was lots of them.

Tammy'd go dancing with Hugo
one day and motorcycling

with Juan the next.

She'd yacht with
Pierre and ski with Sven.

This girl could get
any guy she wanted.

Why some days there
were so many fellas,

of all sizes and
shapes and looks,

you'd think we were invaded
by the army of the

planet Macho.

But settle down?
Not yet.

So many rays to soak up,
and so little time to soak.

Years passed, until one day
when ole Tammy decided

it was time to walk
down that aisle.

She leafed through her
little black book and

settled on
Spencer Stockwell.

Right height, right
weight, right bank account.

Called him up, invited him
over and things progressed

pretty much as planned
lunching pool side pour deux.

It was just then that mousy
little Agatha decided it was

time to update her
exercise regime.

She slipped on a little
two-piece and Cupid's arrow

of love hit the bull's
eye, which in this case,

was Spencer
Stockwell's heart.

Years of tracking bird
specimens had preserved

her girlish figure.

Her
over-protected hair shone.

And her smooth, flawless
skin glowed like neon

on a foggy night.

Seems tweed beats
peek-a-boo mesh

as a sun block every time.

Tammy was none too pleased.

She retreated to her
boudoir for some well needed

self-reflection.

In a very large mirror.

Tammy, was far from pleased at
what was staring back at her.

It was what she had
long failed to recognize.

She'd grown old
before her time.

Years of late nights and
blazing afternoons by the

pool had taken a
terrible toll.

But Tammy wasn't the kind of
gal who was about to give up

without a fight.

Spencer Stockwell was the
man she'd chosen and she

would not lose him to
some blanchy bookworm.

Agatha's and Spencer's
romance progressed quickly

but Tammy moved
just as fast.

She tried
Egyptian mud packs,

Dead Sea salt scrubs,
electrode stimulation,

all sorts of
creams and lotions.

Altogether her efforts had a
quick and decisive effect.

She looked ten years older
than when she started

and the wedding was next week.

All looked lost until the
wizened Tammy stumbled on an

ad at the back of a
beauty magazine:

Travel to the
Fountain of Youth.

Instant
Transformation Guaranteed.

Now, no female in her right
mind would pay attention

to an ad like that.

But Tammy was not
in her right mind.

She was OUT of her mind,
drowning in desperation.

Tammy had just enough time
to pack a bag and catch the

next plane.

She traveled to a jungle deep
in the heart of South America.

And there it was.

The Fountain of Youth.

Just as she had imagined it.

In a beautiful setting of
lush flora and fauna,

which Tammy had no
time to appreciate.

She drank and drank
and low and behold....

Tammy's furrowed
brow smoothed,

her sagging skin tightened.

This Tammy could steal a
playboy from her cousin with

one firm but tender
tricep tied behind her back.

And there was
no time to lose.

The wedding was today.

Plane to boat
to bus to taxi,

Tammy raced back
to the mansion,

steam-curling, cinching
and crimping all the way.

As the cab
rounded the last bend,

the butler closed the
gates to the last limo,

the orchestra struck
up the Wedding March...

Tammy's radiant
new face beamed.

She'd made it.

They hadn't
said, "I do", yet.

But as Tammy raced
up the front lane,

the butler yelled,
"Oh no you don't!"

As far as he was
concerned, this lady,

whoever she was,
didn't have an invitation.

Tammy's own gates slammed
on her lovely young face.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Oh Tammy finally did
walk down the aisle.

But was her new hubby ever
shocked when he lifted

that veil.

come with a very limited
guarantee.

I miss them so much,
especially my mommy.

Tell you what, here comes
my good deed for this year.

Let's do a tribute to
your sweet old mom.

Yipee!
We'll honour my mommy!

Right after
this freaky story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine...

Mandy was totally bland.

So she couldn't believe it
when she got the invitation

to Charlene's big
sleepover party.

Why Little Miss
Goody-Two-Shoes would even

bother, was beyond her.

Mandy figured that it must
have been Charlene's spirit

of generosity.

Or a"pity-invite"
or something...

Well, one thing was for
certain - no good deed

ever went unpunished.

Mandy would see to that!

The party was a blast - the
highlight of the social season.

Everyone was there.

They ordered tons of pizza
and takeout Chinese food.

The music was blasting
and the girls were doing

each other's hair.

It was way after midnight
when the boy-talk fizzled

and they decided
to play some games.

"Truth or Dare" -
stuff like that.

That's when Mandy
brought out her Ouigi Board.

It was time to talk
to the spirits...

They sat around in a circle,
trying to conjure up the

spirit of some teen
heart-throb when Mandy

excused herself and dragged
Vanessa into the bathroom.

That's where she
laid out the plan.

The girls were huddled
around the Ouigi board when

Mandy walked
back into the room.

They were having a conversation
with Elvis's ghost.

"Where's Vanessa?"
asked Charlene.

"Oh, we were
running low on snacks.

Vanessa went on
a munchie-run",

Mandy replied as she sat
down - smiling like a shark.

"Anyone mind if I give
it a try?" she asked.

Now, who should we talk to?"

"Well, we were
talking to Elvis..."

said Charlene.

"Oh, he's so terribly 'last
Thursday', isn't he?"

sniffed Mandy.

"Why not try someone more
interesting?"

And with that, the Ouigi Board's
pointer started to move.

It spelled out
the word "THE".

Then it pointed
to the letter "H".

"You're not doing
that - are you?"

asked Charlene.

"Shhhh!"
hissed Mandy.

"Let's see who it is!"

The Ouigi Board
spelled out the name.

"...O...
...O...

...K.

It's The Hook!"
The girls screamed.

Of course everyone knew The
Hook was that escaped killer

who hunted for teenagers.

And that instead
of a right hand,

he had a razor sharp hook.

"Tell him to go away!"
the girls squealed.

"NO! Let's see what he
wants?" laughed Mandy.

And the board spelled out
the rest of the message...

"...Y... ...O......U...

--I'm coming for YOU!"

The girls
practically fainted.

"Send him away!!!"
they screamed.

But by then it was too late.

There was a
crash from above.

The girls scrambled up
the stairs - someone -

or something was smashing
at the front door!

Crushing blows
came raining down.

The door couldn't
stand up to it.

The wood began to splinter,
jagged bits flying everywhere.

"To the Ouigi Board!"
shouted Mandy.

She stood there laughing as
the girls stampeded down the

stairs to the rec room.

It was their only chance.

Charlene and Betty grabbed
the board and began to spell

out their message.

"...G...O..."

But the hammering continued.

Blow after blow!

Hit after hit!

Down in the basement,
Charlene and Betty kept

working at the board.

"...A......W..."

Then the front door cracked
and a glint of chrome-steel

shone through.

"IT'S THE HOOK!!!"
screamed one of the girls.

Mandy bounced
on her tip-toes,

clapping with glee...

Then with one crashing blow
- the door fractured and the

deadly steel point of the
hook smashed through -

into the room.

"...A......Y...

GO AWAY!"
the girls shouted.

And then, the
house was silent.

They crept up the
stairs to the front door.

Splinters of wood
littered the rug.

Mandy was sprawled
on the floor -

laughing hysterically.

"Are you all right?"

they asked,
helping her to her feet.

"The joke's on you losers!"

she laughed,
pointing to the door.

There wasn't any 'Hook' -
I brought the board, remember?"

That's when Vanessa came
walking out of the kitchen.

"What happened?

I heard some kind
of banging sound."

"Good one, 'Ness.

You really fooled
them", said Mandy.

"But how'd you get from
the front door back

in the kitchen so fast?

"Oh, sorry Mandy",
Vanessa shrugged.

"The phone rang. I've been
talking to Bobby all night."

That's when the front
door swung open -

and Mandy started to scream.

Because there, hanging
from the front door knob,

was a razor sharp hook.

Hey.
It's a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

And Mandy?

Now, whenever she goes
to sleepover parties -

all she does is sleep.

Ok, here we go, Maurice's
tribute to his mom.

Professor, if you will.

Ahem, ahem.

¶ M is for the many
things she gave me. ¶

¶ O is for the
Ocean deep and blue. ¶

Why did the married
couple go to live

in the middle of the ocean?

They wanted to set up
lighthouse keeping?

It's a gift.

¶ T is for my father. ¶

T?

Oh, he hates coffee.

¶ H is for the hens
down on the farm, ¶

you know the hens down on
the farm aren't laying eggs?

Holding out, eh?

No, holding in.

¶ E is for elephant,
a great pet. ¶

That's some pet.

¶ R is for army. ¶

Army?

You know, last night I dreamed
I was in the paratroopers.

I jumped out of a plane
and pulled the string.

Then what happened?

My pyjamas fell down.

¶ Put them all
together they spell Mother. ¶

[crying]

Oh, Maurice, Maurice!

This here's a true story.

It happened to a friend
of a friend of mine...

Deke.

Now Deke was mighty
proud of his crew.

And he had good
reason to be.

It was Tuesday
July the third,

and the eyes of the
world were upon them.

"They" were the Night
Shift at Mission Control in

Houston and on that night
-a new chapter of history

would be written.

You see, Optic One, the
Space Observer Satellite had

just touched down on Europa, one
of Jupiter's largest moons.

Deke and his crew; the men
and women at Mission Control

were waiting on the very
FIRST images to come from

the far side of
the solar system.

Now you have to understand
that timing was tight -

Deke had only three
short chances -

only three Tuesday nights

- that Mission Control could
pluck the pictures from the

satellite - or they'd be
lost forever in the endless

reaches of space.

And, the fine people on
Deke's crew had been working

on the "Optic One"
project for nine years.

So ya understand that
things were mighty tense

down there in Houston.

Everybody was on duty:
There were Deke's crew,

Deke's backup crew...
the Network News Crews.

Heck. Even Deke's maintenance
crew were there that night.

Well, the long minutes
turned to hours as they

waited for the pictures from
Space to be received by the

Borneo tracking station,
then relayed to Houston

via Hawaii.

Finally the big
number-crunchers began

to 'chunk'.

All eyes turned to the
big screen as the data

began to resolve itself.

The big picture was
just about loaded when

the screen went dead.

There were yells and screams
as Deke's people leapt to

their terminals.

They began checking, then
re-checking the systems

and subsystems.

Everything was perfect -
it shoulda been working.

It HAD to be working.

It wasn't working...

Deke barked orders.

The crew continued their
inspection and de-bugging as

the precious
seconds ticked away.

Finally - they
realized it was too late.

The planetary window had
closed for that night.

They'd have to try
again, next week.

Everyone stayed by their
computer terminals trying to

figure out what went
wrong - until one by one,

they drifted home in
the wee-small hours

of the morning.

The following Tuesday night,
they were at it again

full tilta-boogie.

It was a full house
- all crews on duty.

Computers were 'chunking'
down the information --

and up on the big screen,
the picture was loading.

Everything was going just
'tickety-boo' when all of a

sudden...the
screen went dead.

There was frantic rushing
and screaming and cussing.

But by the time they got the
system back up and running -

it was too late.

The second window
had closed again.

The big media
crowd left the room.

The techs sweated through
the chewing out that Deke

gave 'em - then everyone
finally drifted home.

On Week Three, it
was "now or never":

The last night of
the cosmic window.

Over at Mission Control -
the party atmosphere was

long gone.

The Techies had quadruple
checked every system and

subroutine, while up
in space "Optic One"

began beaming its data
stream across the

quarter-billion-miles to
the Borneo Tracking Station.

The tension in the control
room was so thick you could

cut it with a knife.

Then the
bit-stream came on-line.

The computer started
'chunking' and the

technicians didn't dare
leave their terminals.

They held their breath
while up on the big board,

the picture started
resolving itself.

Deke was sweating bullets.

Everything was going fine
until ...you guessed it.

Well, there was
screaming and yelling.

They tried everything...

Then they tried it again.

But it was too late.

Nine years of
hard, hard work,

gone up in smoke.

Deke's crew slowly filed out
from the mighty control room.

Some of them
were even crying.

They couldn't believe that
the same computer glitch

had happened three
weeks in a row.

Deke stood alone
in the silent room.

Then he noticed
that he wasn't alone.

Because in the corner of the
room Anna the cleaning lady

had quietly unplugged
her floor polisher and was

rolling up the cord.

Then she re-plugged the
big mainframe computer

into the wall.

Her work was done
so she went home.

That's when Deke remembered
that Tuesday's were Anna's

cleaning day.

This is a true story.

It happened to a
friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, the men and women from
Deke's Crew were assigned

to other projects.

And Anna?

They say she's still
cleaning the floors down at

Mission Control, but
never, ever on a Tuesday...

I've got a surprise for
Maurice that's going to make

him feel real happy.

You can come in now.

Where's my little boy?

Sonny boy!
Oh!

[big kiss]

Eesh, ooh.
She actually kissed him.

Ew!

Ptui!
Ptui!

¶¶¶