Original subtitles

Ominous rumbling and thunder

sombre string music

Coins jangling

Ominous music

garrick: In Saudi Arabia, the revolt by fanatical muslims

which toppled the royal family continues.

This week, the new revolutionary council

began a purge of all pro-western revisionists

who have failed to observe the strictures of islamic law.

Sheikh wanjid El-shadri, publicly flogged

for miming to a Joe cocker record during ramadan.

Yitchak Ben fasail, former minister for oil,

sentenced to death for entering a mosque on a unicycle

and referring to the prophet Muhammad as "spatz".

And suaf El-Khalid, formally executed

for keeping a photograph of Ernest borgnine in his qu'ran,

and even appearing on the streets of mecca dressed as aquaman.

To cope with the increasing tensions in the middle east,

the United States has now placed its rapid deployment forces

at nearby Diego Garcia on a full-condition blue alert.

The fb-111.

A tactical bomber with the velocity capability

of double the speed of sound.

A new refinement to this aircraft's swing wing...

Sakowski! Where d'you think you're going?

Emergency bell, sir. Nuclear alert!

Sakowski, will you sit down? Stop being so jumpy!

Ooh.

The crucial thing that we have...

Must have been that word you said. It sounded like a bell ringing.

What, "aircraft"?

No, the other one. "Facility"? "Swing wing"?

Sakowski!

We've lost already at that point, sir.

Will you sit down?!

Other soldiers jeer

it ain't my fault. It's the words. "Swing wing".

They sound too much like "ding-a-ling".

Freeze!

Now sit down, all of you!

If you can't be trusted to sit tight,

you know what I'm gonna have to do?

All: Yes, sir. And what's that?

Screw our boots to the floor, sir.

Screw your boots to the floor.

Now, I've got the screwdriver,

and I'm not afraid to use it if I have to.

Now, then, the kind of range we're talking...

It's all right for him. He's already got his boots screwed to the floor.

What did you say, sakowski? Nothing, sir.

Pardon me, I thought you just said something. No, sir.

Something about my boots being screwed to the floor?

No, sir.

Just watch your lips, Sonny.

Now, in addition to the fb-111,

we'll shortly be deploying the new streamlined tornado,

a model of which I have right here.

As you can see, the fuselage...

Told you! Sakowski, for the last time,

will you just...? Bell rings

Jesus! God, almighty! That's it! Get to it, you heroes. Get to it!

Nuclear sirens

Wbc worldwide news, coast-to-coast, bringing you all the news.

It's news. It's breakfast time. From wbc dateline news, I'm Jay garrick.

Good morning. The coffee-time headlines.

Mashiq rassim, younger brother of the late shah of Iran,

is to be deported from Southern France, where he's been living

since the revolution which toppled his brother seven years ago.

The French government say the new shah will be expelled next week

for publicly engaging in anti-iranian political activities,

and they stressed that the decision

has nothing to do with an attempt to butter up the arch mullah,

who is currently deciding where to buy

a new $500 billion nuclear reactor plant. But what's this?

I'm being thrust a piece of emergency paper now,

containing an up-to-the-minute news flash.

We've just heard of yet another false nuclear alert

among NATO forces in the middle east.

For a full three-and-a-half seconds yesterday,

it was believed the world was at war.

Releasing details of the incident, a Pentagon spokesman

said the alarm was triggered by a numerical overload

of a space invaders machine in the pilots' mess room.

However, there was no danger.

Repeat. However, there was no danger of any escalation,

and the alert never got beyond computer stage.

And certainly no nuclear bombers whatsoever got halfway to Russia

and then had to turn back again.

Now, the rest of the news.

Song: 'The star-spangled banner'

ar... ma... geddon... Ar... ma... geddon...

No, it's not in here.

Here's "Albuquerque". Ah, that's it.

Must be a misprint.

The president will soon be on course for Albuquerque.

Yeah. Must be a primary there next month.

Phone rings hello? Yes?

Your national security adviser is here, sir. Send him in.

Dark days are dawning, mr president.

The sulphurous are the dread fires of damnation,

into whose palsied bowels we sink daily

with our unrelenting sins and iniquities.

Morning, Deacon. I'm glad you're feeling more optimistic today.

If the lord had meant us to be optimists,

he would never have given us life insurance. Sure.

Adding to which, sir, the latest public opinion polls.

Oh, my god. This is a disaster!

How am I ever gonna get re-elected

with a popularity rating ten points below Charles manson?

You do it by facing the nation's problems full square, mr president.

And the gravest of the problems, as I don't need to tell you,

and I will tell you, is the middle east.

This new government in Saudi Arabia is poison, sir. Poison.

They must be stopped! And crushed.

This new defence minister they've appointed,

he looks a real slippery son-of-a-bitch.

He should be, sir. He's one of ours.

We planted a CIA agent on their revolutionary council?

Did I authorise that?

It was god's will, sir. I beg your pardon.

Within two days, he had discovered every secret policy objective,

and before being ceremonially beheaded,

he'd managed to pass them on to his contact in a nearby peasant village.

That contact, I have here,

waiting to give you the details in person.

Deacon, you surpass yourself.

In a mysterious way.

Phone rings

one word of caution. Yeah?

That homeless man was a convicted criminal.

A minor transgression, I gather,

but he still bears the scars of his punishment.

Still a little touchy, huh?

Suffice to say he never talks about it.

Welcome to the free world, beggar!

This is mr Johnny cyclops, president of civilisation.

Hi, beggar. Garbles

how's that again? Garbles

I beg your pardon? Oh, my god! You've had your tongue ripped out.

Oh, that's terrible. I'm sorry. I really am. Have a cigarette.

Garbles

oh, well, thank you. Thank you very much.

That's very kind. I've got... oh, my god.

Now, listen, I understand that you have certain information

about the revolutionary council's policy towards the United States?

Garbles

what is this? He might be acting. Oh!

Five words! Five words.

Four words. Four words. The second word.

The first two words. The first two words. Yeah.

"Scissors"? "Scissors". No. No.

"Dressmaking"? Not... "Tailoring"? Israeli interests? No.

Oh, "tongue"? "Lick"? "Lick"? Oh, no. It wouldn't be that.

Oh, "c-cut off"! "Cut off".

"Cut off". "C-Cut off".

Three... third word, there's a little, bitty word.

Little, bitty word. "Us". "We".

"Our". "Cut off our..." Cut off our what? Cut off our ear?

Cut off our lobe? Sounds like, sir.

Oh, sounds like! Sounds like. Sounds like.

Sounds like. Yep. Yep. Yep.

"Scabs"? "Impetigo"?

Beggar blows raspberry

"acne"? Ooh.

"Pimples"? "Blackheads"? No.

I-i-i-i... "Boil"? "Boil". Yeah.

Ah. Yeah. Right. Sounds like, "cut off", or sounds like "boil".

"Coil"... "Soil"... "Oil"! Yes!

Yeah! I got it. You see? I got it.

They're gonna cut off our oil! They're gonna cut off our oil?

Wbc worldwide news, coast-to-coast, bringing you all the news.

It's news. It's Monday brunchtime, from wbc dateline news.

I'm Jay garrick. The snack-time headlines.

The two American citizens

who won a three-day trip to Moscow on a vodka competition

have been seized by kgb psychiatrists

and placed under house arrest.

The competition was where you have to guess

the identities of six TV personalities

from pictures of their teeth.

The Soviet news agency tass claims that Jonathan and Martha hopper

are secretly united states intelligence agents

who have gone to Russia to plot the overthrow of eastern Europe.

Mr hopper, a 73-year-old retired duck breeder

from sagebrush, Colorado,

is not known for his previous affiliations to the CIA.

And now, the rest of the news.

Doris cronkite, the woman who secured a lock

of frank Sinatra's hair in 1958,

has today sold it back to him for an undisclosed sum.

Back with you shortly.

Song: 'State anthem of the ussr'

He replies in Russian

He replies in Russian

I am commissar solzhenitsyn.

No relation.

Now. The minister tells me, mr and mrs hopper,

that your government

has admitted your shabby connections with the CIA

and has handed you over to the kgb

for such treatment as we might consider appropriate.

It ain't what it says in the papers! No.

You've seen the newspapers? Yep.

They ordered continental breakfast.

Continental breakfast?

Fruit juice, coffee, rolls, and choice of jams

with the morning papers.

Idiot! Yes, sir.

In future, no maximum-security prisoners

will be allowed newspapers.

No, commissar.

And a choice of jams only upon confession.

Sorry.

Now, your complicity with American intelligence is well known to us,

mr and mrs hopper.

Or should I say "ma" and "pop"?

And what is more, we have proof.

Here, we caught you lurking about,

waiting for a contact to pass on compromising microfilm.

And here, we caught you secretly discussing your next move,

not 300 yards away from the state opera house.

Notice, by the way, the beautiful gothic architecture

on this building.

And here, your guilt proven.

You opt for total concealment amongst the crowds in red square.

Notice here the flowerbed, planted by hand every spring,

blossoming in the summer into a riot of colour and fragrance

in the very heart of the city.

Oh! Do we need to go on?

We don't know what you're talking about! No.

My Patience is wearing very thin. Mournful string music

admit that you are working for American intelligence

and you'll save yourself much trouble.

I don't!

We won the holiday in a vodka competition.

Electricity crackles

I have plenty of time, mr hopper.

Electricity crackles

you are only making it harder for everyone!

Electricity crackles, they scream

enough! Admit that you're working for America!

Music intensifies is this man with you?

I thought he was here upon your orders, commissar.

Are you mad? Begging your pardon.

What is it? I asked for the fiddle player.

It's our wedding anniversary today.

He screams out you inane old fool!

And you, get out of here. Shut up that row. Out, out!

Now, what do you say? Will you admit...?

Oh, sod it! We'll come back again tomorrow.

Electricity crackles, they scream

mr leinsdorf, the American ambassador. Comrade.

Come in. Sit down.

I am comrade dubienkin, Soviet premier.

Yes.

This is the first time we have met, is it not?

Uh, no. We've met on 278 previous occasions.

I expect you can guess... Russia's a great country.

Yes. Uh, yes, sir.

A very great country.

Phoo, the riots? What are they?

Meat shortages? Never heard of them.

Right. Actually, I...

Just because I have a dead dog in my fridge proves nothing.

I agree with... why shouldn't I have a dead dog in my fridge

if I want to, huh?

It's a free country, sir.

Sorry. Yes, Russia's a great country.

And a happy country.

I have here letter from man saying he likes living in Russia.

"Comrade, I like living in Russia." Signed, dmitri lenovich.

Uh, yes, sir. A glowing testimonial.

Here is a sworn affidavit from two witnesses proving letter is genuine.

For sure.

I can get you ten, maybe 12 people in here

who will personally testify letter was not signed at gunpoint.

That won't be necessary, sir. Good.

But you have urgent matter you wish to discuss?

Yes, I do. Go ahead.

Thank you, sir. I will make us a drink.

You're very kind, sir.

The point is, I've been asked to tell you

that the president views with the gravest concerns, sir,

the seizing of this American couple, mr and mrs hopper.

It's frankly preposterous that there is any possibility

of subversive activity.

I must start by demanding, sir, that you release them immediately.

Yes.

Russia is a great country.

Oh, I am comrade dubienkin, by the way.

Soviet premier.

It's the first time we have met, is it not?

Ominous music

TV news: 'And president cyclops apparently refusing

'to adopt a firm line with the Russians.

'We ask, "has the white house turned yellow?" ' Nah.

Shut it off, Deacon. Shut it off!

This goddamn hopper affair.

Now they're actually calling me a coward.

Coward? How can they say such a thing, sir,

of a man who once wrestled a live alligator with his bare hands?

Damn right. How could they... I did?

Your thrilling Tarzan picture for rko. Oh, yeah.

Tarzan and the snake woman. Sure.

I wonder whatever happened to Loretta...? Mr president, sir,

have you finished that CIA thing on Saudi Arabia yet?

Well, dammit, Deacon. The thing's more than two inches thick.

Why didn't you read the conclusions on the last page?

Well, I didn't wanna spoil the ending.

Allow me, sir. Basically, there are three ways

we can restore influence in the middle east.

Alternative one - a surprise attack on Saudi Arabia.

This would involve ten commando divisions

sneaking in the back way while everyone else was facing mecca.

Alternative two.

In addition to your secret missile launches in Egypt,

the risk of discovery's the problem here.

People have started noticing

there are more pyramids than there used to be.

Alternative three is, in my opinion, the wisest cause.

We use all our resources

to help the new shah of Iran regain his brother's throne.

The shah? But his brother's a murderer!

Nonsense! Would you call dillinger a murderer?

Well, yes.

Well, the fact remains,

he's the only ally in the Gulf we can rely upon.

Dillinger? The shah!

Even at this moment...

Thousands of insurgents loyal to rassim

are waiting to move in, overthrow the arch mullah

and restore western culture.

All we need to do is to offer them a little covert assistance.

But isn't that the sort of thing

we condemned the Russians for doing in El Salvador?

If the lord had meant us to be consistent,

he would never have given us Milton Friedman.

Hey, uh, Deacon? Sir.

Uh, don't you think the easter decorations

are a little severe?

A mere icon, sir.

Essential if we're to snatch the catholic vote from hennessy.

Besides, it creates jobs for the students during their vacation.

Now, the French ambassador, I spoke to him today.

He tells me shah rassim

has been ordered to leave calais midday tomorrow.

Well, he's not coming here! Deacon, remember my integrity.

I remember it well, mr president. Now that guy is one hot potato.

Why ain't we gonna find a country

damn fool enough to welcome the brother of a mass murderer?

The conservative government in britain didn't hesitate, sir.

They're willing to Grant him asylum for as long as they're in power.

Well, that's terrif... How long is that?

About seven-and-a-half days, sir.

They hold their general election next Thursday.

Ample time for us secretly to smuggle the shah back here,

lay plans for his counterrevolution in Iran later this year,

just in time to boost your reputation

for our election in the fall.

Ah, that's great. And if anything goes wrong?

I wouldn't be at all surprised, mr president.

Wbc worldwide news, coast-to-coast, bringing you all the news.

It's news this Wednesday midnight from wbc lateline news.

I'm Jay garrick. Have a cookie. The late, late headlines.

It's been announced that shah rassim of Iran

will be deported from France in about half an hour's time

and has been offered asylum in britain by the government.

The environment secretary

stressed there'd be no preferential treatment.

The shah would be housed in standard council accommodation,

probably somewhere in the south coast of england.

In accordance with French regulations, rassim will be seen off

by the country's foreign minister, Andre moreaux,

a man not noted for his subtle approach to diplomatic protocol.

Only a few weeks ago,

he greeted a delegation of New Zealand lamb exporters

by dropping his pants to be kissed on both cheeks.

On a recent visit to the United Kingdom,

he smacked the archbishop of canterbury around the face

with a wet herring as a protest over European fishing rights.

We'll be bringing you live coverage of that deportation ceremony

just a soon as the shah of Iran reaches calais.

That's right here on wbc after the break.

Tyres screech left. Left.

No, left! Cars honk horns

left again.

Abdab. Do you think that the blindfold is...?

I am wearing it now in light of you.

Is that...? Right!

I was just wondering if you really needed it at the moment.

I am not worthy to look upon your holy countenance, master.

For so it is written

in the ancient scriptures, o, lion of the Gulf,

that I am forbidden even to see your face.

Yes. I've realised. Slow down!

Horn honks look out!

Look, bugger the scriptures. Just take it off.

If I were to catch a glimpse of your divine visage in the mirror,

o, star of the east,

I would then have to gouge out my eyes with a toothpick.

I'm getting very queasy in the back here. Oh, god.

I'll be glad when we get to england.

Take one of your travel sickness pills, o, moon of the dessert.

Where are they?

In the big suitcase, o, last of the mohicans.

Well, what am I supposed to...?

"Last of the mohicans"?

That was an old 1940s western. Was it?

With Randolph Scott and Bruce cabot. Oh, yes.

Shah mashiq rassim. This way, please.

People in the crowd shout

I will take the cases and load them onto the boat,

o, Jewel of the cosmos.

Big splash

fanfare

people in the crowd shout

'le marsellaise' plays, crowd applauds

bonjour, mesdames et messieurs,

representants des journaux distingues.

Good day, gentlemen of the world press.

Also, his eminency, the arch mullah of Iran,

if you are looking in.

Comme vous voyez, as you see,

aujourd'hui, nous sommes ici pour assister

a une ceremonie de grosse humiliation.

Welcome to this farewell ceremony.

His majesty has contravened the terms of his stay here

and must leave.

Cet homme ici est un cochon affreux qui me fait vomir.

'Here is the deportation order.'

crowd cheers

made out, as you see, to his majesty the hated shah

in big letters.

Crowd boos and jeers

and now.

The cup of tea...

Crowd jeers

..in to which I place the jokey sugar cube.

Crowd laughs

Alors, la voisine...

The floppy stick of asparagus.

Crowd cheers

nice and buttery.

Drums play

crowd jeers and applauds

et Ceci termine la ceremonie de grosse humiliation.

Crowd jeers

bon voyage.

And good riddance!

'Le marsellaise' plays

damn pig-ignorant French!

Is that you, spangle of the heavens?

Yes, yes. Let's get out of here.

When I get back to power, they will pay for this.

TV news: 'There, now,

'we see monsieur moreaux giving the final farewell salute.

'And shah rassim now boards the private launch,

'which will ferry him across the channel to britain.'

the future of the western alliance depends on this man, mr president.

I won't rest easy in my bed till we got him over here in Washington.

'Security, of course, is very tight here,

'because there are many arab terrorist organisations

'who would give anything to see this man, rassim, dead.'

explosion

Jesus Christ! Explosion

the boat's gone up. They've killed him, Deacon!

This is goodbye to the whole operation!

On the contrary, mr president. This is where it all begins.

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