Original subtitles

To be able to reach into the actual mind, of a human being.

who died three hundred and seventy-four years ago...

Say again, old chap.

He didn't quite capt...

He's in mortal pain because of being dragged back from the light.

`dead'.

She'll cut us of.

That witch Martina Matilda Masdon.

I want to talk to you about a particular deal, Dave boy.

Ben!

No biography!

¶ That saved a wretch like me.

¶ I once was lost,

¶ But now am found

¶ Was blind but now I see.

¶ 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear

¶ And grace my fears relieved

¶ How precious did that grace appear

¶ The hour I first believed!

¶ Through many dangers, toils and snares

Mick! This way, Mick.

Come on, Yahoo-woah.

Giddy-up! Giddy-up! Yahoo! Tata tata!

Look. Look. No!

Fetch! Fetch! Good boy, wo-oh.

C'mon boy. Aw, good old Mick!

Thou bist a good 'un, Mickey, o'butt.

Best dog as ever there was...

This doesn't make sensolo.

Giddy up! Giddy up! - It's ridiculous.

Luanda! Stop the drip! The alpha-neuropepide 1042.

Overt activity has ceased, Professor.

We have so damnably little of the 1042 that we must always, always

make absolutely sure that we gain the maximum value or use out of it.

Now... what's going on there at the moment... is to me

so, so distorted and out of any sort of norm I can accept... !

We're either feeding in too much 1042 or too little.

It began real enough... - But perhaps, perhaps this is only a...

And, of course, of course, just when we need Glazunov's biochemistry the most,

he chooses to take the morning off! We're underfunded, understaffed,

underdisciplined and undereveryfuckall else! I'm sick of it!

Emma. - Sick of it! Sick of it, d'you hear!

I... I... I'm sorry. I... - Emma!

What! - I've been thinking...

Well, I'm glad someone around here has been doing something!

Oh, bugolo! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

It's just... well, everything's getting me down this morning.

It's not simply the delayed shock from last night.

We actually made the Breakfast News this morning...

well, at least on the Orange Juice Hour...

which shows the RONs must have been after somebody really...

Orange Juice Hour. Orange Juice Hour!

And what vidfax was I getting? Eh? Any fucking idea? Juice-head!

Sorry, Professor. - There's that dear, sweet old shag-hag

Martina Matilda Masdon popping up behind my toaster,

all her teeth grinning at me,

saying that our contracts are beeing reduced from eighteen months to eight

and our budget per month is cut by 15 per cent with an absolute ceiling!

Maybe sly old Fyodor is already out looking for a job.

The job we need is right here, right now.

I thought if we could assemble enough material from our resurrected Lazarus...

we might, just might, be able to make a pitch for continuation.

or at least hold the budget at its present level.

But if all we're going to get is unreliable distortion,

and comic maladjustment, then even... - But it may not be that!

What? - Luanda?

We can not expect perfect memory

when so many of the brain cells are not `tuned in' to our peptides

and so many more have still to be thawed out...

No, but... - But even then, even if we could.

Surely we would expect to see some sort of duplication of what we get in our own memories.

Aren't we sometimes... I mean, rather

don't we sometimes place ourselves as we are now

back into the unravelling of an old recollection... ? Don't we?

Mmmmm. I'm not sure.

I can be as I am now when I dream of my childhood, fot instance.

Don't you, Blinda? - Oh, yes, Doctor.

It's the only way I can thump the other kids!

Very funny. Oh yes... but that's not the same thing, is it?

Dream, memory. Memory, dream.

But it's first cousin to it!

My dreams are built from the things that happen to me in the waking world.

And my memories can also adapt and shape the past.

I can put myself in a better light than I actually was, for instance.

I can built up an accidental slight from a former friend

into a deliberate act of villainy from a now sworn enemy.

My memory, Emma, is also a tool,

an editor, a judge, a jury! - That's true,

It's true! And there's something else... Now, we've done enough work on amnesia,

we know that we can block out entirely things that are too painful to remember.

Right? - Right.

Well... That's what we might be seeing here...

Daniel Feeld half letting in a real memory.

A bad one, maybe. A shameful one, perhaps.

We don't yet know. These distortions we're seeing...

OK, they could be just that, a failure in our alpha-neuropeptide 1042,

or wrong mix of it... OK, yes...

But it could, just could be

that we are seeing the infinitely cunning operations

of an infinitely complex mind actually at work!

All right. We'll risk more of our precious fluid.

Switch him on again! - Thank you, Doctor.

When do I get to do that? - Oh, shut up, girl.

You see! Look at the clothes!

The memory is adjusting back to childhood.

At base, it's real. It's true!

Oy.

There yunt nothing like a fag when tha bist in a bad mood, our Mick.

Make so dizzy, mind.

Do thou think Christ'll tell on I not going to chapel? Bet him ool!

And I shall be in dead bloody buggering bloody bloody trouble.

I con't half cuss, eh, Nick?

But look... Tuppence collection money!

Another ha'penny and I can buy me a Sunny Stories at the post office,

Tuppence-yuppeny. That's a lot, yunnit? Nowadays.

I do like them little stories... Wassamatter?

Who is it, Mick?

I hope it chunt Mr Harris or one of thoy...

Here, boy. Come here!

Wos wrong with thee... !

Mick! Here Mick!

Mickey!

Mickey!

Mick!

Mick!

Come here. C'mhere, boy!

Bad bad boy!

Mick!

Mickey! Mick!

Mickey! Mick!

Mickey!

Bad boy! You come here, you bugger! Come here!

He, what's wrong, Mick... ?

Wassamatter, old butty?

Where bist? Mick? Mickey?

Mickey?

Mick...

What happened o'butty?

'E came at me like a bleed'n animal.

What sort of bloody critter would do that, eh?

I had no chance, Sonny Jim. Christ, I fought it was a fucking tiger.

Oops! Watch me langwidge, eh?

Hey, now. No call to be scared, Sonny Jim.

You're a lad after me own heart.

But dogs is dogs is dogs.

If I told you 'alf the bleed'n trouble they've caused me... you'd soon see.

Hoy! Stand still! - Leave I alone!

Please Mister... I be very sorry about the dog!

Cheeky little bugger, entcha? - Please, Mister... don't hurt I, are you?

Watchewdoin' aht there in all these bleed'n trees? Eh?

I be s'posed to be in chapel, Mister. - Chapel!

Thoy'll come a lookin' for ye, that's for sure. They'll catch tha!

Catch me? They'll have a bloody job, won't they?

Please, Mister... - Please. Please. Please. Christ, is that all you can bloody say?

S-sorry. - Pleese. Pleeese. Sowwy. Sowwy. What sort of bleed'n talk is that, then?

How was you dragged up?

I'll give you something r eal nice to say please for...

Real nice. I promise. Keep your arms where they was!

Please, Mister... No, Mister. No... - Keep still, you little bugger...

Please, Mister. Please, Mister...

What the fuckolo... Kaya! What is it?

Oh, my dear. Whatever has happened? - It's cruel! It's so cruel!

What is cruel? - What we do! Day after day after day! What it is we do!

I can't take it. I can't stand it any more! - Look,

you need to calm down a minute. You don't want people to think you're...

Come in here now. I've just had some good old-fashioned coffee

with an old friend of mine... The real stuff, I mean.

Not a trace of Anjola or whitener in it!

I don't think I... - Entrance clear.

ANDREW O'MILTON DIRECTOR PUBLIC AFFAIRS

Kaya. Ten oh five.

Met by Fyodor at door of Andrew Q. Milton, Director of Public Affairs.

Looks as though Fyodor had been in that office. He took her in.

That's it, my girl.

Andrew, I'm afraid I have another customer

and potential devotee of your extraordinary coffee.

Well, I suppose so...

So long as it is one person at a time, Fyodor.

This is Kaya. She works in the Lazarus laboratory with me.

A biochemical research assistant. - And would-be lackey, I presume,

if dear old Emma has nor changed overnight.

Oh. I'm... um... I'm sorry. You must have your coffee straight away.

Kaya thinks that what we do is cruel!

It's beginning to scrape at her feelings and thoughts.

Oh, dear.

What...

in general?

No. I... this is very kind... - No, no...

It's just that... this man's head.

It's been frozen for nearly four hundred years.

And now we're slowly regenerating whole clusters of brain cells

and billions of the neurones in the cerebral part of...

I'm sorry, Doctor. You know far better than I do what we're doing.

I'm not trying to criticize anyone personally, not at all, but...

These memories are starting to tumble out, and...

Excuse me. - Oh. You mean

you are upset by the nature of the memories you are seeing,

rather than by the process itself. - Pardon?

You don't mind the frozen head in itself

so much as you care about the stories it is telling.

I care about both, sir. And I care very much.

I beg your pardon.

Well, my dear, I can see you are both a sensitive and a dignified young woman,

and I would be very sorry indeed if any aspect of our work here

were to disturb you to such a...

to such obvious distress.

Please. Drink your coffee.

It's the real thing, you know.

But don't ask me how I manage to get hold of it.

Nice? - Very... um... Yes.

But it's rather... strange.

A sort of pure... um...

Yes, it gives you an elevation.

Ah. A woman of taste! Thank you.

I... Perhaps things in general have been preying on my nerves.

I should have talked to someone about it, but...

But it never seems possible. I know. Fyodor.

They'll be screaming for your head to be in the box if you don't return to your duties.

And I'll get dismissed for sure! - No, no.

We'll invent some concoction of a tale thay explains all.

You're in good hands, Kaya. I won't say I saw you.

You won't say you saw me. Just relax here a while. And listen to Andrew.

He has even better things than real coffee on offer!

¶ Then all his precious love.

¶ There was no other good enough

¶ To pay the price of sin.

¶ He only could unlock the gate

¶ Of heav'n and let us in.

¶ Oh, dearly, dearly has he loved

¶ And we must love him too.

¶ And trust in his redeeming blood

¶ And try his work to do.

Brothers and sisters, children in Jesus,

today has been a special day in our chapel

because the band has marched through the street

carrying our banner,

and come right into this little house of God

to give musical thanks to...

Daniel!

Daniel!

Oh Dan! Give him some air!

Dan,? What's up, Dan? - O'butty?

Dan? - Danny, what's happened?

What's the...

Fyodor... - Minute.

Repose.

What are you saying, Fyodor... ?

You were perilously close to aborting the whole programme, Emma.

You are already a whole percentage point above the limits of this peptide, Luanda.

No! - Yes! And if it had gone on much longer...

all of that, all of it, wouldn't even be the floating corpuscle-dots of minimum conciousness.

Our man would be no more.

Of course you are the specialist biochemist in cerebral circuits

and Luanda is more on the surgical and regenerative side...

No, Luanda, you're not at fault.

But there would have been no danger and no problem in the first place

if you had been where you should have been. Here.

Here doing your job! Where the hell have you been, Dr Glazunov?

When you were out dining last night

and, oh, I hope enjoying yourselves...

I made a few important vid-calls and videofaxes...

What do you mean, `enjoying ourselves'?

Well... You did, didn't you? - Being shot at and bombed?

You've got a weird sense f humour, Fyodor...

You mean... - Yes. We went to the Holly Tree. Didn't you know?

You chose wisely, my man.

I had no idea until this moment you had gone to that restaurant.

Holy Moseolo! You could so easily have...

Jesus. You could have been slaughtered... !

I thought you knew where we were going.

The food's good there... - If I'd known you were going there, I'd...

Well, Fyodor, the bloody RONs didn't attack during the first course, and...

we didn't have to pay te bill! - PRIORITY.

PRESIDENT OF UNIVERSAL TOTAL ENTERTAINMENT

DAVID SILTZ SEEKS MEET HERE LONDON ENGLAND

WITH PROFESSOR EMMA PORLOCK OF MSC CRYOGENIC LABORATORY

Me? With Stiltz? With UTE?

Maybe a new children's programme, Emma. - UTE?

Universal Total Entertainment!

God almighty, what have you done, Emma!

Universal Total Debasement. Universal Total Polution.

But what on earth can such a creature want with

poor insignificant withered-up little old me?

Am I to be the booby prize in some horrible new game show?

Won't hurt to call. And milk him for a grand meal at the very least.

He's like the old whatsit, Tsar of All the Russias.

Genghis Khan's a better analogy.

Go on, then.

Shall I? Shall I reply?

Oooo... yes please! Hell-o, big-bad-wolf!

A1011.

Please say who you are and wait for a few moments.

We woud be very grateful for your patience.

This is Professor Emma Porlock

of MSC Cryonic Laboratory A in Kensington, London.

Professor Porlock on six, Mr President.

Tell her one and a half seconds and apologize. Out!

Mr Stiltz... ? - I said out! Now!

Hi! I'm sorry to keep you, Professor.

And I'm so very grateful that you called me back as soon as you did!

Jee-ee-sus! - I... I'm sorry about the...

As you can see and as your companions so amusingly appreciate,

I happened to be having my mid-morning massage, Professor.

I was endeavouring to make myself a little less unseemly.

It's all right now, Mr Stiltz... it was more due to the...

the unexpectedless of you calling me in the first place.

Please. It's Dave. Call me Dave. And may I adress you as Emma... ?

No. You certainly may not, Mr Stiltz.

We have never met each other,

and I do not intend to break the habits of a lifetime

merely because you are such a powerful man, sir.

Well, that's... but that's just fine by me, Professor.

There may not be an England any more, but, by God, there are still the English, eh?

There'll always be an England, Mr Stiltz.

Maybe there will, Professor. But I'm not blessed with your sort of...

what shall we call it... foresight.

Right now, I'm more concerned with what is happening right now

and in particular what happened yesterday at breakfast time in California.

A breakfast...

that I shared with Martina Matilda Masdon.

In a fact, Professor, I was helping myself to some of her juice

when she grabbed hold of your short hairs

and threatened to close the whole neat little caboodle you got going for you here.

You listening?

I'm listening, Mr Stiltz. - Now,

I know for sure she means it. That's the sort of cow she is, Professor.

And it's just possible... I calculate the clock and the odds at 9,854 to 1

that she is peeking in, at you all, right now...

in which case it'll be bye bye any chance of helping you.

And I want to help you.

Ask him, why?

But why would someone like you want to help me, Mr Stiltz?

Because 'someone like me' incidentally,

I do so hope that there is no one else like me,

which would suggest a slight adjustment in your English grammar, Prof...

because someone such as I

might have a certain pecuniary interest of his own to pursue.

I can't imagine what interest we could possibly have... - No.

I bet you can't. But here's a simple Yes/No situation.

We can't chat on these devices without risk to you or your colleagues.

But we can chat over lunch, one o'clock, the David Stiltz room

here at this hotel of mine in Hyde park. At the lunch

I'll guarantee you all the fucking alpha-neuropeptide one zero whatfuckever that you need.

Guarantee!

So, you come? Today?

Tick one box, lady. Now.

Yes. I'll eh...

I will be there at one o'clock.

What am I doing... ?

Certainly not, Mr Stiltz

Girls! Girls! C'm here!

Yes, Mr President.

This time

I want you to grease around an area that I'm very fond of ...

but it tends to get rather dryolo and overused in Califuckinoria..

Know what I mean?

Doesn't matter, does it? I mean,

meeting a monster doesn't turn you into one, does it?

Or what would have happened to Saint George?

I was about to say, before all this, that

I'd made some calls last night, and this morning

I've been trawling with my inadequate nets

through every so called independent foundation or academic centre

for whatever scraps they might sort of

accidentally drop from their table, but...

How can people of such high IQ be so absolutely blind?

No luck then?

A few thousand unidollars. Enough for

five minutes of Daniel Feeld's brain at full capacity.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to be the unannounced hero.

Forget it. I feel a bit...

Any moment now, I'm going to upchuck.

No, no. You're not. - We got some very vivid stuff.

Puzzling at first. But... you must catch up on tape.

I will. - It drove poor little Kaya away... It was so... Jesus,

it was very graphic.

I... I'm terrified to think

how near we came to a blow-out.

My God... there must be a treasure house

waiting for us in Daniel's head.

That's what the malignant oaf Stiltz thinks too.

Have you seen her, Doctor? Kaya, I mean?

Me? - I mean...

oh, excuse me... I'm getting worried about her.

I haven't seen her. No. Why should I?

Sorry. - Oh, she's just a silly, overemotional little...

still, I felt upset myself.

We all did. - The question is... can we reactivate again?

Soon, I mean?

The biochemical problem with `memory'

is that there is no one particular cluster of cells in which you can say...

OK, there it is, there we can tap it.

Now...

we've come close to overloading excactly those parts of the temporal lobes

Which in psychopatic patients cause fear.

Fear.

Yes. It's an appropriate word for what his head threw out at us.

The vomit of an abused soul.

I think it is relatively safe to try again, but not in the same temporal lobe. Luanda...

Yes? - I'm sure about the particular neuropeptide.

Are you sure you can get it to the septal area and the front end of the hypothalamus?

Yes. - Are you sure?

Yes. But I wish I had Kaya here. She is very deft

and exceptionally useful when I try to switch the neurotransmitters.

Damn the girl! - I'm not so rusty on that, Luanda.

I can put myself under your control. And Blinda can help me.

Well, eh... OK. We'll start transpositioning.

How long? - Seventy-five minutes.

All right. I'll be able to see some before breaking bread with the Devil.

Caviare, more like. - Just take a long spoon.

So, while you get on with it... and please be careful...

let you and I take a little walk.

Walk? - Yeah, you know,

it's where you put one leg in front of the other,

and then do the same thing all over again.

Don't be impertinent, girl.

I'm told Milton has access to a private supply of real coffee.

Shall we importune? - No, Emma! I can't stand the man.

I'd rather have unfiltered ditchwater.

You don't like too many people, do you, Fyodor?

I wouldn't say that.

Is that because you imagine that too many of them don't like you?

I have my friends, Professor.

But in the social life in general...

in this world, in this hell we are making of it...

I say no. No, thank you! I'd rather lock myself in my own room and howl on all fours.

Is that what you want to walk and talk about?

At my demeanour in the lab or my private life or something? Is it?

Fyodor... - Because, if it is,

I propose to proceed not one step further.

Do you understand? - Understood. I want, eh,

actually, I want to talk to you about this lunch with Stiltz...

you know what is likely to be involved as much as I do.

Should I get some bearings. The whole idea of

any kind of dealing with his mass entertainment business disorientates me.

And yet...

well, there is all this money, and all this possible doors to open with it.

I'm at a complete loss, Fyodor. Am I to be willingly seduced? Or what?

Succes! - Smack in the hypothalamus and septal.

And I was brilliant, you two!

So, what sort of fings, then?

Oh. Television for when children have officialy gone to bed, movies that hardly...

Better wait for the big guns.

...obtuaries, greeting cards.

Emma and Fyodor. Wonder what they found to talk about, those two?

I mean, they are not exactly... Not exactly what, Tony?

I beg your pardon. - Oh, we're buddy-buddies, Dr Watson.

Now, now, you miserable Slav.

So... you're ready! You've done it! - We've done it!

Right, let the show begin.

Show?

Movies that hardly ever get made, books with paper covers,

obituaries greeting cards.

Would I have seen anything what you done?

Not unless you had a birthday recently.

Yeah! Me twenty-second.

Twenty-two. Oh, my God.

Yeah. Getting on a bit, ennit?

My life's been given over to writing words.

Words. Fucking words. - Ooh.

Words. That's all I've ever been good at if I'm any good at all.

And I've an idea that I'm soon going to find out about that,

one way or the other. - Watchewmean?

Look, if we go to the end of this balcony, anf if that funny little gate opens,

we can go all the way down past the other balconies...

To the garden, yeah.

You like gardens? - I like the word `garden' .

It has a... well, the ring of primal innocence.

The what? - Adam and Eve.

¶ Adam and Eve and pinch-me Went down to the river to bathe.

¶ Adam and Eve got drowned, who dost thou think was saved?

Who! Who! Who! - Pinch-me!

Pinch him! Pinch him! Him have asked for it! Pinch! Pinch!

Let'n alone! Dost hear I! - Pinch! Pinch!

Let him alone!

What the hell's going on?

All right. It's all right. Get down.

Down. Get down.

What a lovely sound your heels make on this old iron.

Do they? Ta. - I have that sound

in one of my stage directions in the last script I finished.

Just one of the little things that's been bothering me.

What's it called, your story?

Cold Lazarus. - What?

There. Perfectly clean, my dear.

Ta! You're a gent.

As you can see, I haven't been feeling too great lately.

What's wrong then? - I've been on the wrong diet.

Eating and drinking my own thoughts.

And I kept hearing what I thought were my own lines coming back at me.

My own lines.

I am on the wrong diet.

I am being made to eat and drink my own thoughts.

And I keep hearing what I think

are my own words and my own life coming back at me.

My own life.

No...

It's almost as if... almost as though...

No. It cannot be.

Or are we saying it must not be?

He certainly... I mean, it was as near as you can get to a... a...

The word I would normally use is a `plea' .

Technically, Luanda knows that it is not possible,

not within the scope of the percentage of his brain activity.

Biochemically I would be forced to the same conclusion.

It-cannot-be-that-that-damaged-remnant... knows his own condition.

So... to sum up...

we know he was an identical twin.

We know he was a writer, and it seems a successful one.

And there is something we ought to bear in mind about writers.

And that's... ? - The fact that they tell stories.

Sorry? - They tell tales. They make things up.

You mean... They are liars? - Well... it's something to bear in mind. Isn't it?

ATTENTION! ATTENTION! BODY FOUND ON GROUND IMMEDIATELY BELOW COMPLEX.

THIS IS A MASDON SCIENCE CENTER POLICE COMMAND.

STAY EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE UNLESS IN A SCIENTIFICALLY ENDANGERED POSITION.

ATTENTION! ATTENTION! A BODY HAS BEEN FOUND BENEATH THE WINDOWS OF THE COMPLEX.

Anything?

Think somebody jumped?

Christ, I would if I worked here.

Well, if someone did the honourable thing

let's hope it is Martina Matilda Masdon, over on a quick visit.

Careful. Ceilings have ears. - And eyes. And arseholes.

Your lunch, Emma. - Oh, I'm dreading the...

PLEASE RESUME ACTIVITIES. THE BODY IS NOT THAT OF AN OUTSIDER

AND IT IS NOT BOOBY-TRAPPED. WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU

OF THE DEATH OF MSC PERSONNEL NUMBER 124549 KAYA CHANG OF LABORATORY A.

Ars longa. Vita brevis.

You. It was you. You!

I'm very much afraid to say that it is the other way around, Fyodor.

What? - You should not have brought her in to see me.

You had no conversation with her at all, as I was soon to discover.

And it is not possible to discuss your funding issue

in terms of the public domain in any sense of the word

that comes into my territory, Doctor.

I'm surprised you should even try to begin to coax a farthing piece

out of this smooth fellow, Fyodor. - Emma.

Your assumptions are out of order, dear lady.

I help when I can help.

You need to be a speleologist to enter the unfathomable depths of your mind, Mr Molton.

Speleologist? The word eludes me.

One who studies caves, and usually finds nothing more than bat shit.

Emma. Wait...

Kaya... - She was unhappy, Fyodor.

Oh, the poor, poor... - Fyodor, there is nothing we can do about it.

What do you do... Are you trying to accompany me, or what?

I'll be quit safe, you know.

Stiltz will not rape me. Alas.

No one is safe!

No one.

Professor Porlock. It is an honour indeed

for a Barnum and Baily such as I to meet so distinguished an expert in the cryogenic sciences.

Goodness.

I thought one was supposed to take exercise after one's meal, not before it.

Never mind. Mental gymnastics will shortly be in order.

Taste that. And tell me...

what you think.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

Not bad? Not bad? Do you have any idea what you're drinking?

A Margaux before that region was torched...

you know how difficult it is... Do you know how much it costs?

I wasn't aware that price was a taste, Mr Stiltz. Forgive my ignorance.

You know something? I like you.

And that astonishes me. Truly! - Not half as much as it astonishes me.

OK. Let's eat. You wanna eat?

If it tastes expensive.

Attagirl!

If you do that again, Mr Stiltz, or anything like it.... - OK. OK.

I'm sorry. Promise. Promise!

I thought maybe cold cherry soup.

A Hungarian dish with lotsa nice, nice other things... ? - Fine.

And then, keeping the light theme, an all around the world salad with some

fruits on a whole Dover sole.

That do? - That will do.

Good. Got that, kitchen? - Got it, Mr Stiltz.

The kitchen can hear all this? - Well, they're all to thick to understand a word, anyway.

I only employ Irish people there, you see.

Laugh, eh? Try it. Won't hurt.

It's not much of a joke, Mr Stiltz.

I s'pose not... But no,

I've buttoned them all out of earshot... Here,

under the table, you see... ?

Try one. Press the green one.

Green? - Green.

I kinda hover. In each finance department

I have my own personal agent that works for me

outside any other form and/or discipline. And

as soon as any one section of any one Center

makes any one expenditure decision for any one tranche

of any one internal subsectioned budget, I get a coded bleep... at once.

Ah. So that was what I heard when I spilt the coffee.

So you recorded it when you were a guest at her house?

Go on. It won't bite. Eat.

... any one work room in the whole damned place. Look...

Twenty-nine. - Twenty-nine.

That's the place in England. A shithouse.

Sixteen. - Sixteen.

The Lab ordering an overspend...

And then I saw right into your lab.

And then she told me she was going to cut you out.

Completely. So... - So?

So you might as well give that man's head to the zoo. Soup nice?

I'll get the funds from elsewhere.

Yes it's very nice. - Wild cherries.

Oh, get to it, Mr Stiltz!

Well, I like it.

The soup. And what you're doing.

That stuff today for example. Great! - Today?

How the hell do you know what we... ?

Bye-bye-blackbird!

You've heard of or maybe even seen Snoop Kestrels...

My God! Primitive!

My people take things that little bit further,

That little bit better, in every communications field you can think of.

Now, we send out a dozen of these. And they almost always get back.

The navigational system is, eh...

well, it's out of this world...

Now,

if I fit this... in here...

Are you ready for your sole, Professor?

Soul.

I beg your pardon?

Soul.

I said soul. S O U L

Oh, come, my dear.

Just wait until you see this...

and pray to God that Matilda Masdon doesn't clap her sharp,

piggy little mascaras on it first!

Just you wait until you hear my offer, Professor!

It'll knock you out!

I meant, are you ready for your fish, lady?

Fish?

Amazing grace!

How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost

But now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

Subs edited by Franky

Synced by k4n0