All language subtitles for What We Do in the Shadows S06E05 1080p WEB H264-SuccessfulCrab

Nandor
has disappeared.

- Nandor?
- No one has seen

or heard from him in weeks.

Well, not since Gizmo fired him.

Nandor?

Gave him
the old heave-ho

from his janitor job.

The blade of the proverbial
guillotine has dropped,

and the blood of
Nandor's broken dreams

has pooled at Gizmo's
oddly-shaped feet.

So, yeah, we've
tried just about everything

to find Nandor.

Set traps...

Nandor?

Checked the vents,
hung posters...

We have even
yelled his name very loudly

into the wind.

Nandor!

- Shut the fuck up.
- Piss off.

You shut the fuck up.

That broody little
bitch is missing.

The dude is gone.

And we can't find
the fucker anywhere.

Five dollars
seems like a lot.

- - Hey.
- Ugh.

I can't even look at you. Ugh.

Any update on Nandor?

Not since you fired him.

From the job he loved.

What a coincidence.

You have a lot of
guts coming in here,

you little floating traitor.

- Floating away with your little bitch ways.
- Hello?

- Yes?
- Nandor has been located.

It's the Baron.

And he knows where Nandor is.

Don't tell him about
the reward money.

I thought we might have
a bite of lunch while we talk.

Let us see what we have here.

Some punch, some
jellied blood, and, uh,

Ke dekti patan.

And, yes,

the Sire prepared
the finger foods.

Mmm. My compliments to the chef.

Again,
like I mentioned in my email,

I don't eat blood, so maybe
just a crescent roll or...

Uh, Sire,

would you play that
tape of Nandor,

please?

This was recorded by a
vampire monitoring the ether.

Enemies abound,
and only I can defeat them.

I used to think ghouls were
just the spirits of the dead.

But now I know they walk
among the living, too.

- Oh, dear.
- Up and down Wall Street,

with their suits and their ties

and their
build-your-own-salad bowls.

I watched a snail

crawl across the edge of a...

one of those things
you use to shave.

- What's it called?
- Razor.

- Not a knife.
- He's thinking razor.

What are those
things called again?

- A Sharpie? No, no...
- Enough.

Well,

yikes.

Indeed.

Oh, he used
to be one of the most

promising vampires
in this New World.

- Well, I wouldn't go that far.
- But now...

he is unrecognizable.

Dangerous.

- Dangerous, you say?
- Yes.

We are hearing reports of
increasingly erratic behavior.

- Mm.
- Nandor is drawing attention.

Too much attention.

And attention puts

all vampires at risk.

Understood.

He must be stopped.

- So, Nandor's here?
- Yes.

We traced Nandor's
dispatches to that location.

Go to New Hampshire.

Retrieve Nandor.

And with haste.

♪ ♪ Don't sing if you
want to live long ♪

♪ ♪ They have no
use for your song ♪

♪ ♪ You're dead, you're
dead, you're dead ♪

♪ ♪ You're dead and
out of this world ♪

♪ ♪ You'll never get
a second chance ♪

♪ ♪ Plan all your
moves in advance ♪

♪ ♪ Stay dead, stay dead ♪

♪ ♪ And out of this world ♪

♪ ♪ Shadows and light, baby ♪

♪ ♪ You're dead. ♪

Okay, so we
made it to New Hampshire.

The dossier said that
Nandor is hiding here

at the Hancock & Sons factory.

I mean, it was the
factory until you

and your Cannon Capital cronies
stripped it down for parts.

Actually, a leveraged
buyout is a pretty neat way

for a failing business to
reinvent itself for the future.

- Shut up, Guillermo!
- Shut up, Gizmo!

Okay.

What the
hell happened here?

- Stay close, my darling.
- Hey, look.

What if the H, A
and N were missing?

- Get it?
- Nope.

Cock & Sons.

Smells like
slow death in here.

- Malaria.
- Nightmares.

A little dusty.

Nan-man?

Are-are you here?

Nan-man?

There is...

no Nan-man here.

There is only Nandor
the Relentless.

Warrior.

Leader.

So, Na-Nandor,
have you been here

the whole time since
you were, um...

Fired?

Yes.

I have.

And, uh,

- why?
- Vampire-only explanations.

That means not you, Guillermo.

Okay.

When one is burned...

one feels most at home
amongst the ashes.

Which is why I came here,

to the husk of the
Hancock & Sons factory,

amongst others that
have been discarded

by Cannon Capital Strategies.

But what I found...

Oh, what I found...

A...

bunch of preppy crap?

Preppy essentials.

- Mm.
- And, no,

I found soldiers.

Many of the humans
left when the jobs did.

Those that remained,
they needed,

they craved a leader.

A warrior.

A commander.

And they became my army.

And, uh, where is this army?

In the field,

awaiting our next strike.

- Ah.
- Which reminds me,

I have a war
council meeting now.

You may walk with
me, if you must.

Oh, mind the shirt pins.

They're fucking everywhere.

So, Nandor, this army

you have raised...

what is the, uh, endgame?

To conquer.

To take the battle town by town,

from here to the very steps
of Cannon Capital itself.

Right, but, um...

why?

So that Cannon Capital

will rue the day they cast out

their greatest warrior.

Ah!

We are here.

Good evening, comrades!

Fuck my old boots.

Good gravy.

Uh, so this

is your war council?

Yes.

And who
are these chaps?

- My reserves.
- And what about them?

My concubines.

- Shit.
- Huh.

Now, look, I
really need to get on

with my strategy session.

Unless you have
any more questions?

- I do.
- No.

Are you okay?

What is he still doing here?

- Well, I drove.
- You...

are the enemy.

An errand boy sent
by greengrocers

to spy on me.

Leave.

I'm not the enemy. Tell him.

- See you later.
- Bugger off.

Okay.

I will be out here.

Well, it looks like

you've had quite the
exciting time here, Nandor.

- No one can deny that.
- Mm.

But what say we go home now?

Before you freak the
fuck out of anyone else.

This is my home.

The battlefield.

- Okay. - Mm-hmm.
- Hmm.

What is that, Major Briggs?

A maneuver from the east?

Perhaps.

I think it's safe to assume
he's gone absolutely mad.

Yeah, I don't like using
this word, but he is crazy.

Oi. No.

You do not get to use
that word, you twee demon.

He's like this because of you.

But, yes,

he is absolutely crazy.

Well, we can't just
leave him here like this.

Unless...

can we?

No, we cannot.

He's a danger to himself.

How about we sit
him down and say,

"Hey, you're nuts.

"Stop it.

Stop being nuts."

I see someone is
well-versed in psychology.

Well, let's just grab him
by the neck and yank him out

- of this hell box.
- We can't.

To extract Nandor by
force would be like...

waking a sleepwalker.

So what, then?

There is only one solution.

We role-play the scenario

that Nandor has
concocted in his mind.

In time our presence
will shine a light

on the holes in his fantasy,

and he can follow that
light back to reality.

So, Shutter Island
rules, so to speak.

We are the hollow men.

Well, it's worth a shot.

All right.

Okay. I'm in.

Excellent. Fuck off.

- What?
- You need to go now.

- Why?
- 'Cause he believes you are the enemy.

- But I'm not the enemy.
- What are you still doing here?

- Bye, bitch.
- Okay.

Bye-bye, bitch.

Keep walking, bitch.

Stop calling me "bitch."

Sorry, bitch.

Nandor.

Bit busy.

Your army.

We'd like to enlist.

"Sir."

What?

If you wish to be in my army,

then you will all
address me as "sir."

- Okay, I'm out.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Yes, sir.

Good.

So, basic training begins now!

♪♪ Cannon Capital nemeedooni ♪

♪ ♪ Cannon
Capital nemeedooni ♪

♪ ♪ Mah too jahdeyeh
peeroosee Eem. ♪

- You are clay.
- No.

Soft.

Weak. Goopy.

But I am here to mold you.

Yes, sir!

To make you strong.

- To shape you.
- Whoo!

♪ ♪ Cannon
Capital chalgoozeh ♪

♪ ♪ Cannon
Capital chalgoozeh. ♪

I joined the
Royal Navy a few years ago.

For the sea, the sun
and mainly the sex.

But what I'm finding here,
it's just a lot of marching...

- That's it!
- Push-ups for no reason...

20,001.

20,002.

And no one's offered me anything

- that looks like a medal.
- - What the fuck?!

Shave your own head.

Okay. On your marks,

get set,

crawl, worms!

- That's it!
- I did not realize

being in Nandor's fake army

would involve so much of
doing what Nandor says.

You call
that crawling?!

He's very
lucky that I have

that rule about not
killing the demented.

♪♪ Lord, the house
lookin' like a rummage sale... ♪

Sure,

Nandor's military delusions

are a strange little brew.

A dash of memories from
his time in Al Quolanudar

and a sprinkle of war movies
he's seen over the years.

But, heck, if I don't
want to take another sip.

♪ ♪ It ain't me, it ain't me. ♪

Well, maggots.

You have trained

and trained well.

Especially you, Colin Robinson.

You are very violent.

Oorah, sir!

Alexa, please pause the music.

- - Okay.
- Thank you.

Alexa is my director
of internal comms.

Okay! So,

on to your assignments.

- Laszlo Cravensworth!
- Yeah.

Intelligence.

Obviously.

- Nadja of Antipaxos.
- Hmm?

Signal Corps.

What is that?

Never mind. Who gives a shit?

Colin Robinson.

Come on, Logistics.

Come on, Logistics.

Logistics.

Yes! Yes.

Now listen up.

- Tonight is a proud night.
- Psst.

Together we will take back

the honor, the power,

the respect

that Cannon Capital have so
cruelly tried to take away.

Okay, so this
is a pit of shit.

Can we not just make Nandor
think that this stupid

imaginary battle has
happened already?

- And how do we do that?
- I know.

Shoot me.

That's not a real
gun, Colin Robinson.

It's a decorative firearm
from the Outdoorsman section.

All right, then
whack me with it.

Hard.

All right.

- Again. Harder, though.
- Really?

Yes! Oh!

How is this going to help
with the Nandor thing?

What Nandor thing?

Hold on. I think I've got it.

I've thought of a way
that Nandor will think

that the war is won.

A ruse de guerre that will make

the Trojan horse look like a
witless child's papier-mâché.

Fuck, I'm good.

Now all I need is
the adequate supplies

from this shit-forsaken town.

Wait. You guys can leave, but
I don't want Nandor to think

I'm a deserter.

I ain't no deserter!

You live
a thousand years

and you think you
know what betrayal is.

What horror is.

Awaiting
further orders, sir.

But then, in a single
instant, you find out

you haven't the slightest idea
what man is truly capable of.

Oh, man. That
sounds rough out there, Nandor.

Listen, I've got to move
on to the next caller,

but did you want
to request a song?

Uh, yes. I would like to request

"Scarborough Fair"
by Simon & Garfunkel.

No. Let's limit the
public broadcasts.

The brass back home are
getting a little squirrely.

But to whom am I
supposed to orate?

Well, me, you big lummox.

All right.

Now, you were saying
something about the horror.

You know
what, my darling?

It feels like an eternity

since we've had some time alone.

Oh, it does, it does.

So what is the
plan, my dark lover?

Well, you'll see. You'll see.

I'll "see"?

Yes. What's the
problem, my darling?

I'm hearing a lot of this

"You'll see" these
days. I'm hearing

"You'll see" about the plan
to fix Nandor's melted brain.

I'm hearing "You'll see"

about the sex doll monster thing

that you're creating
in the basement.

Well, the sex doll monster
thing... not a sex doll...

is part of the grand plan.

Which is...?

Complex scientific experiments

that I don't think
you'll understand.

Oh, so you're calling me stupid?

Well, of course not.

That's a stupid thing to say.

No.

- Whoa, whoa. No.
- Piss off.

Nadja, what I meant
to say was something

with the identical sentiment
that wouldn't piss you off.

Well, it did.

Shit.

In my empire,
Colin Robinson,

we will be free.

Free from liars.

From the cowards who
say you are not a

"good culture fit."

I dig that, sir. I hear that.

Hey.

I thought
I said this person

was not welcome here.

- You sure did, sir.
- Yeah, I know,

but if I keep charging
my phone in the car,

it'll kill the battery, so I'm
just looking for an outlet.

Don't mean to disrupt
your whole "war" thing.

"War thing"?

This is a war.

No winky fingers.

Okay, enough.

Private Robinson,

would you give us a moment?

You got it.

Traitor.

What did you say to me?

I'm sorry. I'm done playing
along with this fantasy.

I'm not the enemy,
and you know that.

You're just pissed.

You're pissed that I'm
killing it at Cannon.

You're pissed that...

that you weren't

a good culture fit.

Lieutenant Alexa.

Tell this piece
of shit to leave.

Now playing
"Leave " by JoJo.

Wait for the chorus.

Well, I'm not the only
one kept in the dark

by their lover's
extracurricular activities.

So you admit you
keep me in the dark.

Well, no more than you
keep me in the dark.

I don't got a fucking clue what
you get up to at Cannon Capital.

Laszlo, there is
nothing to tell.

It is a job. You show up,

you pretend to do shit,
and then you go home.

Why the fuck would
you want to do that?

Because it is better
than sitting at home

and twiddling with
my tits while you are

downstairs locked up in the
basement with your meat parts.

All right, all right.
All right, my darling.

I think I know
what's going on here.

Give me your hand.

I need to apologize.

I'm listening.

Clearly, the reason
for you being

so overemotional

is because

it is your time of the month.

The dead do not menstruate!

Fuck me. Bloody hell, darling.

Oops.

- ♪♪ Get out ♪
- ♪♪ Leave ♪

♪♪ Right now ♪

♪ ♪ It's the end
of you and me... ♪

I can't believe you're blowing
this one little setback

so out of proportion.

I was humiliated!

Do you even know what
loyalty is, Guillermo?

Do I know what loyalty is?

Uh, yeah. I was blindly
loyal to you for 15 years.

Until you got rid of me.

I never got rid of you.

I protected you.

Even with all the fuckups

and the time you
forgot to buy glitter

and the "I want to be a vampire.

No, actually, I don't
want to be vampire."

The time you nearly
killed The Baron, twice!

Through all that shit,

I was loyal.

I may have done a lot
of things, Guillermo,

but I never got rid of you!

Do you think I felt good firing
you? I didn't want to fire you,

but that's how things are in the
real world, in the human world!

- I had to do it!
- I used to be a human

before I was a vampire,
in case you forgot,

and I never betrayed my friends,

my comrades in arms, never.

Maybe some of the wives,

but you know, it was
a different time.

I'm sorry. I didn't...

I didn't know that
the janitor job

was so important to you.

Well, it was.

It was my purpose.

My purpose used
to be raising you

to become a great vampire,

until you pussed out

and found a new
master in Jordan.

Jordan is not my master,

and he doesn't own me, and
I'm not there at his...

Hi, Jordan.

Yeah, I can talk.

No, I'm not busy.

Uh, that should
be in your inbox.

I could actually bump it.

"The Bumpmaster."

Yeah.

Fireworks.

What?

You were angry at me
for not telling you

what we're out here looking
for. It's fireworks.

And I didn't tell you
because, again, I wanted to be

the hero that swoops
down and saves the day.

Laszlo.

I do not need you to
always be the hero.

My darling, you are the
funniest, most clever,

sweetest, and most beautiful
woman in the world.

Not just Staten
Island, the world.

And I'm not even mentioning
the ten-out-of-ten pussy.

You deserve the best.

That is so sweet.

Ah.

Aw.

My koukla.

- Laszlo.
- Yeah?

Think I may have
found your fireworks.

Really? Where?

There, in this shop just
here across the street

with the rows and rows of
fireworks in the window

and the sign that says
"Fireworks Fireworks."

Well, that's perfect.

How did I miss that, my darling?

- I don't know.
- Right.

You just let your husband
take care of this.

Stand back.

No wonder no one buys
newspapers anymore.

- Toss it again.
- Okay.

Open!

- Shall we?
- Yes.

Uh-huh.

Okay, well, I'll just cc Lisa.

You got it.

Bye.

I, too, was once cc'd.

You know, I do know
what it feels like

to lose your purpose.

I used to want to be a vampire.

So bad.

It guided every choice I made.

I mean, don't get me wrong,
I'm happy I'm a human again,

but it was hard.

It was hard waking up every day

with that not being the goal,

to be a vampire.

Well, I am already a vampire,

so that only sort of applies.

Right. Well, the point is,

I think I found a new purpose.

You will, too, somewhere.

But maybe right now

our purposes...

are taking us...

in different directions.

And that's okay.

Perhaps you are
right, Guillermo.

I am a warrior,

but maybe this is not my fight.

You don't just talk
to Nandor, man, you know.

You listen, you dig?

- I'm a little man.
- Yes, I know you are.

Just a little man,
but he's a great man.

Nandor, we have news
from the front line.

Guess what.

Your troops have executed
your battle plan perfectly.

The enemy have been
lured into a trap.

There are casualties.

- We expect more.
- You know, we can all stand down because

- he's decided to come home.
- What?

- What?
- He what?

What is
the fucking point?

Yes, I, um...

After careful consideration,
I have come to the realization

that perhaps I was looking for
battles where none need exist.

- You don't say.
- So I think it's best

for everyone if
I just come home.

Plus, you know, I miss my coffee
and I miss my favorite sword.

There's nothing like...

Oh, what the fuck is that?

- Oh... No.
- It is an attack.

- No, it's not.
- We are under attack!

- Yes, yes. Yes.
- No, no, Nandor.

Yes, yes, yes!

I thought we
were done with this!

Where's my
gun? Where's my gun?

- Wait, Nandor.
- Nandor, wait.

- Nandor!
- Stay low,

they may try to flank us.

- Hit the deck!
- No, Nandor, it's a bloody ruse.

It's not
real, you idiot.

Make it stop!
I can't take it!

Somebody help me frag myself!

Get ahold
of yourself, man.

The fighting seems
to be situated

by the Shipley Dollar
Barn on Piedmont Street.

It's no good, my darling.

He's still too bloody crackers.

Well, isn't it a good thing,
then, that I have a plan B?

Ah, silver chains.

- Hey! Release me.
- Get out of that.

- Stand back.
- Mutiny.

Get in there.

You brought it on
yourself, Nandor.

Nice work, my darling.

Shotgun.

Okay,
guys, I forgive you.

It was the heat of battle

and you panicked and
you made a mutiny.

- Shush.
- Untie me! -

- It's the coppers.
- It is. Shit.

Great.

- Floor it!
- No, you don't want to make

- a bad situation worse.
- Pull over!

What's your problem? Put
your foot down, you prick.

Okay, I'm just gonna pull over.

- Useless.
- I wasn't even speeding.

Just, everyone, be cool,

and I'll do all the talking.

Gizmo, there's a fucking vampire

hog-tied in the trunk.

Hello?

Oh, yeah.

Hello, Mr. Officer.

What seems to be the problem?

Apart from the fact
that my large, wet bosom

won't stop sloshing around.

You, uh, you got a left
taillight out there, son.

Yeah, I've been meaning
to get that fixed.

Sorry about that, Officer.

It's all right. I'll
take care of this.

I say, Officer,

you know, you
remind me of a cross

between a young Paul Newman

and a man I'm about to fuck.

- Get out of the car. All of you.
- Yeah. Absolutely.

- Hands are going over my head.
- Colin Robinson, you need to wake up.

- We got to get out.
- What? What?

What are you doing?

We are regular human travelers.

There is nothing out
of the ordinary here,

so you have nothing
to be concerned about.

What the f...

- Whoa.
- What the fuck is that?

- Who are they?
- Uh...

Oh, that's nothing out of
the ordinary, regular human.

What do you mean? They're
coming straight for us.

What is happening?

Gizmo,
you talk to them.

What, what? No.

Go handcuff yourself to a tree.

Yes, ma'am.

Wait, so,

Nandor's army is... is real?

Wait, so
he wasn't crazy.

Whoa!

It appears not.

- Unchain me.
- General.

- Unchain me.
- Sir, yes, sir.

Just grab it with both
hands and yank it.

- Watch the hair.
- There you go.

Yes, that's it.

Well, yeah, of
course the mannequins

were just for practice.

Wait.

All this time you
thought my army

was just a bunch of mannequins?

The fuck?

- At ease.
- Are they hypnotized?

No, I'm just a really
fucking good general.

- Yes, sir, you are.
- Excellent.

- Sir.
- Major Briggs.

- You're leaving?
- Yes.

I am leaving the
field of operations.

My fate is calling me in
a different direction.

South on the I-93.

Towards the Verrazzano Bridge.

We may even cut through
Jersey if there is traffic!

General.

- What do we do now?
- Good question, O'Hara.

You will do what
you must always do.

You will go forth and
follow your purpose.

What is your purpose?

Fucked if I know.

Be it continuing the fight or...

you know, finding new jobs.

- Where?
- Somewhere.

- Any more questions?
- Is there anything,

like, more specific, like
an actual thing we could do?

Um...

Burn down a Walmart
or some shit.

No. No, don't do that.

- No.
- Ooh, ooh, I've got it.

What is that nearby college

that sends most of its
graduates to Wall Street?

Dartmouth?

Yes! Dartmouth.

Cry havoc and unleash the
dogs of war on those nerds!

Yeah!

You heard
the man. Mount up!

We ride for Hanover!

Ride for Hanover!

This is insane.

Get those nerds!

Get those nerds!
Get those nerds!

Go!

Wait for me! You're
gonna need logistics support!

Not you, Colin Robinson!

- Oorah!
- Shit.

Slow down, you idiots!

Come on, let me...

Shit.

Still got it.

Go get him and put
him in the trunk.

♪ ♪ Don't sing if you
want to live long ♪

♪ ♪ They have no
use for your song ♪

♪ ♪ You're dead, you're
dead, you're dead ♪

♪ ♪ You're dead and
out of this world ♪

♪ ♪ You'll never get
a second chance ♪

♪ ♪ Plan all your
moves in advance ♪

♪ ♪ Stay dead, stay
dead, stay dead ♪

♪ ♪ Stay dead and
out of this world ♪

♪ ♪ Shadows and light, baby ♪

♪ ♪ What a ride, baby ♪

♪ ♪ You're dead ♪

♪ ♪ You're dead. ♪

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Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org