All language subtitles for Dwight In Shining Armor s04e09 Biffels.eng

Dwight: Previously on Dwight
in Shining Armor.

Macklyn: I awoke in the woods
one morning

with no recollection of my life,
no clue to my origin.

Gretta: Auntie Ermie,
this is Macklyn the Fox,

leader of the bandits.

Auntie Ermie: This is
Lord Henrick, your godfather,

and my husband.

I know someone who can help
you reclaim your memory, a mage.

Let's away.

♪

Baldric: Begin with
a bunny's weight of flour.

Dwight: In closing,

my life is
a rich tapestry stitched

from my Polish, Albanian,
Portuguese, French heritage.

And then I pass out
the macarons.

Whaddya think?

- Most informative, Sir Dwight.

Baldric: An angry pinch
of salt.

- Mm.

Blah!

Baldric: [laughs]

- There.

I feel good.

And I'm not gonna
over-prepare this time.

I tend to do that

and it ends up killing
the spontaneity.

You uh, wanna go over
your presentation?

- I'd prefer
to surprise you, Sir Dwight.

- That's cool.

Just here to help.

You want to make sure

you hit all the points
in the rubric.

- Hm?

- Who?

Dwight: In an oral presentation,
not to exceed five minutes,

tell the class
about the cultural history

of your family

and how you actively
remember it

in ideology, language,
art and food.

- Have no fear, Sir Dwight.

I shall praise, laud and honor
the house of Moondragon

until the very rafters shake.

- Mm-hm-hm.

- Well, that's not really
the assignment.

Gretta: And then we pass
around the biffels.

- Pip! Pip!

- Biffels?

- A cream-filled
Rogemorian pastry, Sir Dwight?

Gretta: There's no better way
to honor my ancestors

than with biffels.

- Pip! Pip!

Ah, a bee's bottom of cinnamon.

- A bee's bottom?

And how much is that?

- As much
as the bottom of a bee.

- [blows dust]

[pop]

- It is what
the recipe calls for.

- It's part
of our cultural history,

Sir Dwight.

Dwight: And I'm all for that.

I just also kinda love
standard measurements.

- There is only one way
to make biffels.

[knocking]

Gretta: [poof, poof, poof]

What's next?

[thump]

Dwight: Guys!

Come quick!

Gretta: [gasp]

Macklyn: Uh.

- Macklyn the Fox!

- Uh, uh, uh, uh.

♪

Dwight: Okay, so about
a thousand years ago,

there was this princess, Gretta,
and she was in big trouble

'cause she had lots of enemies
and not a lot of friends.

♪

So her court magician, Baldric,
cast the champion spell.

It put everyone in the woods
to sleep

until a champion would come

break the spell with his kiss

and deal with Gretta's
big, scary enemies,

but that guy never showed up.

Instead...

Ahhh!

[kiss]

they got me.

♪

Ahhh!

♪

Ow!

♪

♪

Macklyn: Uh.

Your Aunt Ermingarde is
a glorious woman.

The love of my life.

The first person I'd pick
to fight at my side

against a legion of orcs,

but I have known drunk squirrels

with a better sense
of direction.

[deep breath]

We wandered in circles
for months looking

for that mage friend of hers.

- You got lost?

- Don't tell anyone.

- Then what happened?

Macklyn: We found a mage,
retired now from public life,

living in a beaver dam
on the other side

of orc territory.

Dwight: Oh, no kidding.

- What did he say?

- He said...

- If your memory were lost,

I could find it.

If it was broken,

I could repair it.

But your memory, dear boy,
is neither lost nor broken,

it was stolen from you.

[crunch]

[laughs]

- Stolen?

- [imitating mage]
By a memory thief.

Dwight: A memory thief?

- I have never heard
of such a thing.

- Nor had I.

Or perhaps I had,

but I don't remember now
for obvious reasons.

- Uh.

- Did the guy
in the beaver dam

say anything else?

- [imitating mage]
That'll be 80 crowns.

- Eighty crowns?

- Dirty bandit.

- Huh.

Gretta: Then your memory
is gone forever.

Macklyn: If the mage is correct.

Dwight: Well,
maybe the mage isn't correct.

You should absolutely get
a second opinion.

- Ermingarde said the same.

- Where is she?

Macklyn: She went north

to look for a wizard
of some renown

and I've come here looking
for a contrarian

the mage told me to find.

Dwight: Hey,
we know a contrarian.

- Oh.

Baldric/Dwight: Oh.

Gretta: We do?

Baldric: Well met, good sir.

- Not well met at all.

You interrupt my soup course.

Baldric: We need but a moment.

Our situation is dire.

- If you'd swallowed
your eyeballs

that would be dire.

Baldric: Indeed it would.

Gretta: I take it
you're the contrarian.

Dwight: He prefers counterarian.

Contrarian: Not anymore.

Counterist,
would be more to my liking.

Dwight: [nervous laugh]

Macklyn: I have journeyed far
to meet you.

Contrarian: Far is relative.

- Most revered counterist.

- Now that I hear you say it,

I think
I like contrarian better.

Gretta: We've come
for your help.

- Huh, not for my help.

- Your professional
opinion then.

- Not for
my professional opinion, either.

You have come for
a quick and easy solution

to your problems.

A way to cheat the consequences
of your own poor choices, hm?

Dwight: Hey.

You see that human being
standing right there?

Well, he dragged himself
through the woods,

through the ticks
and the mosquitoes

and the poison ivy for months

because some creep
in a beaver dam

said you might help him.

- I didn't say
that I wouldn't help him.

There's an empty place
in you.

It was once filled with rich
memories of love and joy, fear.

All gone now, stolen.

Macklyn: Yes, by a memory thief.

- No, by one
who steals another's memories.

Dwight: So a memory thief.

Gretta: Most alarming.

- I wouldn't say alarming
so much as perplexing.

Gretta: Oh.

Dwight: Oh, you're both right.

It's alarming,
and it's perplexing.

Contrarian: Until today I had
never encountered a victim

of a memory thief.

Dwight: Don't you mean one
who steals another's memories?

Baldric/Gretta: [laugh]

Contrarian: Now I've encountered
three at once.

- Three?

Contrarian: You,

and you

and you.

Three victims
of the same thief.

Baldric: You mean to say,
our memories have been stolen?

Contrarian: Not exactly, no,

they were taken without
your knowledge or consent.

- Which means they were stolen,

uh, you know what, never mind.

You're right, as always.

Gretta: Which of our memories
were stolen?

- I couldn't say.

- Then my memory
is gone forever?

- Not forever, not necessarily.

There is a way.

Find the thief.

- How?

Contrarian: Search your memories
for what is missing,

that's where you'll find him.

Dwight: And then what?

- Steal your memories back.

Baldric: How?

- I wouldn't ask how,
so much as in what manner.

All: [barely managed
frustration]

Contrarian: That I cannot know
until you find a thief.

Come back when you know
the answer to that question.

- Wha--

Gretta: Who spied
the hairy beef?

- [sighs]

Dwight: Who's supposed
to read this?

- Who is the memory thief?

- Mm.

All: Oh. Oh. Oh.

Dwight: So, according
to the contrarian,

we'll find the memory thief

if we figure out what's missing
from your memories.

Gretta: Yes.

Think Baldric,
what don't you remember?

Baldric: Uh, oh.

Uh, hm.

Dwight: Maybe we're asking
the wrong question.

Not, what don't you remember,
what should you remember?

Macklyn: I should remember
my childhood.

Dwight: Yeah,
that's a good start.

Baldric: Ah.

Macklyn: My family,
my boyhood antics.

Dwight: Family and antics.

I should remember meeting
Ermingarde

and our wedding day.

- Yes, agreed.

Macklyn: I should remember

what took me to the woods
16 years ago.

Dwight: Woods.

Huh.

Now we're getting somewhere.

If the contrarian was right,

then we should find
the memory thief

somewhere right there
in all the stuff that's missing.

Macklyn, maybe you don't
remember your childhood,

your family, your antics,
your wedding day,

or the day you were
in the woods

because the memory thief
was there at all those times.

- [exhales]

And that's where
I must return to find him.

[phone alert]

- Reminder.

Cultural history presentation
tomorrow.

Gretta: Oh.

Forgive me, Macklyn,

but I have the urgent need
to make biffels tonight.

- Pip! Pip!

A welcome distraction.

Dwight: How many
are you making?

Gretta: One for every member
of the class,

plus Mr. Hammond.

Dwight: So, 24.

Gretta: Correct,

though this recipe
only makes four biffels.

Baldric: So, we'll have to
repeat the process six times.

- Six times?

You're gonna be at it all night.

- Biffels are worth it.

- Pip! Pip!

- [laughs]

Dwight: Why don't you just
scale up the recipe?

- [stammers]

Dwight: You know,
just multiply it by six

and then do it all at once.

It's getting pretty late,

it'll save you
a bunch of hours.

Gretta: A novel idea.

- The risk is too great.

Dwight: Guys, it's just math.

You work smarter, not harder.

- The recipe is most emphatic.

Follow these instructions
perfectly else your biffels

will end in shame
and catastrophe.

- Seriously?

- Mm.

Dwight: What, is everything
a life and death drama

with you guys?

We're talking
about cream puffs.

- Biffels!

- Pip. Pip.

- Work smarter, not harder.

I like your thinking,
Sir Dwight.

- Hm.

- Bu-- Bu--.

- We're going to need
a bigger bowl.

Dwight: Okay, begin with
six bunnies' weight of flour.

- Pff, how much is that?

- Well, you didn't have any
trouble with one bunny's weight.

Baldric: I can imagine
one bunny's weight,

but six,

[sputtering]

that's nonsense.

Gretta: Let me try.

Dwight: While she's doing that.

You get an angry pinch of salt,
multiplied by six.

- Wait!

Is the salt multiplied
by six or the anger?

Baldric: Oh.

- What?

Gretta: Both, to be safe.

- Ah, yeah.

Macklyn: [grunting
with increasing anger]

[pleasant voice]
That ought to do it.

for six bees' bottom's worth

of cinnamon.

- What has a bottom
six times larger than a bee?

- A hummingbird?

- Guys.

- A hummingbird's bottom
is perhaps four times

the size of a bee.

- Guys.

Gretta: A beetle doesn't have
a bottom, per se.

Baldric: Mm.

Dwight: I think we're getting
off track here.

Macklyn: Oh! Newborn mouse.

- Brilliant!

Ah, ha, ha.

Ha.

Macklyn: Ha.

- Form scoops of dough

into the shape
of unicorn droppings.

What?

Ew.

Gretta: Hm.

Dwight: And place them
on a baking tray

nestled together like
four puppies in a basket.

Okay, I'm getting a little lost
in the metaphors here.

Are we doing droppings
or puppies?

Macklyn: First droppings,

then puppies.

Dwight: Drink a tall glass
of water and bake

until you can't hold it
any longer.

Wow.

Macklyn: Should we then drink
six glasses of water?

Baldric: Oh.

Dwight: Nope.

Just the one.

[slam]

Gretta: [sighs happily]

- When do we eat them?

Gretta: They're not for us.

Dwight: They're for history
tomorrow.

Oh, I'll see
if I can save you one.

Macklyn: I suppose my quest
for the memory thief

can wait one more day
for a biffel.

Gretta: On the morrow
the name of Moondragon

will ring to the skies.

[applause]

- Nicely done, Dwight.

Your Polish, Albanian,
Portuguese, French ancestors

will be very happy to see how
you're preserving your culture.

So we have time for one more,
any volunteers?

Baldric: [loudly]
Her Royal Highness,

Princess Gretta the Besieged
of the Kingdom of Rogemore.

- Good day to you
harmless, peasant youths.

As you all know I am
the eleventh great-granddaughter

of Osric the Grim,

the last heir of the house
of Moondragon.

We are a grim people,

forged in the flame
of battle,

though we do enjoy
lively dancing,

sprightly song,

[class laughs]

and puffy pastries.

Bring on the biffels.

Pip! Pip!

Baldric: Pip! Pip!

Mm.

- Oh, yeah.

Sorry.

[clears throat]

Gretta: Behold
the Rogemorian national pastry,

served at births, burials,
weddings, knightings,

greetings, farewells,
tea parties,

and amputations.

- Amputations?

- Uh-huh.

As we say in Rogemore,

life is misery
and fate is cruel,

but biffels are
a delightful, tasty puff pastry.

- You guys really say that?

- Pip! Pip!

[odd bubbling]

[pop]

[gasp]

[pop]

[multiple pops and gasps]

[multiple pops and gasps]

- Okay, guys.

Let's dismiss and go get
the cream puff out of our hair.

There's an eyewash
in the science lab.

Does anyone need that?

Who can tell me
where the janitor's closet is?

- End of the hall
on the right.

- Uh.

Baldric: What did I tell you?

- Wait, how is this my fault?

- We strayed from the recipe

and now we paid the price.

Baldric: Follow
these instructions perfectly

else your biffels will end in--

Gretta: Shame and catastrophe!

- Why didn't it just say
your biffels will blow up?!

Gretta: My grandmother
would be so disappointed.

- Ah, this is gonna take
a while.

Gretta: [frustrated grunt]

Dwight: Hey guys,

did you get the biffels
out of the desks?

Like in the cracks?

Gretta: [frustrated growl]

The biffels are no more.

- Great, then uh, what's wrong?

- See this.

- Oh, ha-ha.

Dwight: Whoa, a C-.

Oo.

- He claims my history
isn't history.

What on earth does
that mean, Sir Dwight?

- Yes.

Dwight: Wow, that's uh,
that's a tricky one.

Do you remember what
Mr. Hammond said

about how history is what people
have chosen to remember?

- Mm-hm.

- Well, I guess Rogemore
and Osric the Grim

and the House of Moondragon
aren't those things.

And when you search Rogemore
you get Roger Moore.

He played James Bond
like five James Bonds ago.

Baldric: There's no record
of the House of Moondragon.

Dwight: Just that
one Chinese restaurant.

Gretta: Who does the Google
think banished the orcs

to orc territory?

Baldric: Or drove the giants
out of the realm?

Gretta: What kind
of ungrateful lot of peasants,

it's-- It's as if--

we never existed.

- Pip! Pip!

Did you save me a biffel?

Baldric: [grunts]

Dwight: Well, uh, um.

Gretta: It is my royal wish

to never hear
the word biffel again.

- What's amiss, princess?

Dwight: The biffels blew up.

Baldric: Pip, pip.

- Shame and catastrophe.

But not to worry, fellows.

We will live to eat biffels
another day.

I must be off.

Biffels or no biffels.

I go now to find the knave
who pilfered our memories.

Baldric: How will you find him?

- I shall rejoin Ermingarde,

and return to the places
and people of my youth.

No doubt the thief
is hiding among them.

Gretta: Macklyn!

Uh, Uncle Henrik.

Please give my love
to Auntie Ermie.

Baldric: Guard your back.

This thief knows us,
but we do not know him.

- Never fear my friends,

for I am not called
Macklyn the Fox for nothing.

[shimmering magical noise]

Dwight: Hey.

You okay?

- They're gone.

- Well, yeah.

That's not your fault.

Some dirtbag stole 'em,
but Macklyn's on it.

They'll find the guy.

We'll get your memories back.

- They're gone, Dwight.

My family.

I'm all that's left.

I'm the last heir
of the House of Moondragon.

My people have been forgotten
by the world,

and even I don't remember them
as I should.

What's all this?

Baldric: Biffels, Highness.

Uh, but done properly this time.

Uh, I'll get the custard.

Dwight: Hey Gretta.

I wanna show you something.

Nana made this for me
after my mom and dad died.

It started with just pictures
and notes.

Ah, these are ticket stubs

from when we went
to the pumpkin patch

one Halloween.

My parents went as ghostbusters

and I was a little baby
Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.

And this is an invitation
my mom made

for my first birthday party.

It was duck-themed.

We just kept it going.

Any time we remember
something about them,

we, uh, write it down here.

I used to think

I didn't really remember
my parents.

But that's not true.

I remember my mom holding me.

I used to love to put my face
on the inside of her arm

because it was
so soft and cool.

I remember my dad smelled
like mentholatum.

I guess he had chapped lips
a lot?

[small chuckle]

This is how I make sure
I won't forget them.

And this is for you.

And this is for you.

If history really is what
we choose to remember,

it's up to you, Gretta.

Anything
you don't want to forget

about your mom and dad,

about your family, your people,
where you came from,

just write it down there.

Then nobody can steal it.

- Thank you, Dwight.

- [clears throat]

Huh.

Glory to the House
of Moondragon.

All hail the ruler of Rogemore.

[clears throat]

Bring on the biffels!

[chuckles]

- Thank you.

Baldric: Princess.

Gretta: Thank you.

Baldric: [sighs]

[chuckles]

Pip. Pip.

Gretta/Dwight: Pip! Pip!

[ominous music]

♪

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