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-Sorry.
Great tackle though, wasn't it?
-Actually, it was a foul.
You tackled me around the neck.
-Oh.
I'll never make the rugby team.
-I'm surprised your father's allowing you to take part.
-Hello.
Favorite child, son and heir.
-So you haven't asked him yet, have you?
-I'm waited for the right moment.
-(WHISPERING) This probably isn't it.
-I thought a mob of peasants was trying
to break into the castle.
What's with all the noise?
ZOLTAN: Master Vladimir wants to play a game with the breathers.
THE COUNT: Oh.
Like a see who can get the most screaming
villagers on a spike kind of game?
-No, dad.
It's called rugby.
THE COUNT: The rugby players huddle together, toss the ball
around, and pat each other on the back for being good sports.
Good sports.
I didn't impale half of Wallachia,
so you could be a good sport.
-But all the other boys play rugby.
Please let me try out for the team.
THE COUNT: No.
You mustn't play with your food.
You'll spoil your appetite.
VLAD: Please, Dad.
Please, please, please, please, please,
please, please, please---
-No, no, no, no, no.
This is not happening.
-It's no good.
Does he look like a rugby player to you?
-Thanks, Chloe.
I think.
MR. BRANAGH: You know if he took off that cloak.
Got a bit of sun on his face.
He might look quite normal.
ROBIN: Hello.
I'm right here, Dad.
-Oh, we're sorry, love.
It's only because we care about you.
-And yet, you want me to get my teeth knocked out.
-Come on, Robin.
You'll learn to love it.
You're a Branagh after all.
ROBIN: Read my lips, N-O way.
-This is not up for discussion.
You're playing rugby, and that's final.
-Hey, cool rugby top.
-No, it's not cool.
My parents made me wear it.
-They said I have to try out for the rugby team.
-They want me to join in and look normal.
-Those barbarians.
Forcing their beloved child to turn against his own nature.
A boy should be free to follow the desires
pulsing in his heart.
-Exactly, so can I play rugby, dad, please?
-Absolutely not.
ROBIN: Are you mad?
Rugby's a horrible, brutal sport.
-It is?
-The teachers actually encourage the players
to push each other in the mud.
And then they huddle up close before they push the other team
and stamp on their heads.
-And my Vladimir wants to partake.
Why didn't you tell me before?
-I did.
Wait.
I can play?
-Of course, you can.
I'm proud of you, boy.
At last, you're showing an interest
in violence and cruelty.
INGRID: I'm violent and cruel, Dad.
Look.
-Ow.
THE COUNT: Ingrid, of course you are, but there's something
very important you've overlooked.
-What?
-It's Vlad that I'm interested in.
Finally, you're going to bring glory to the family name.
-Whoa, Dad.
Slow down.
I may not get picked.
-You shall triumph with my help, of course.
I will teach you a few vampire tricks that never fail.
-Yes.
I can't wait.
THE COUNT: Ingrid, Ingrid, Ingrid.
When are you going to accept that you're a girl.
You don't need to learn any tricks.
Now go bother yourself with-- oh,
I don't know, dusting skulls, polishing coffins, whatever.
INGRID: You can't ignore me for the rest of my life.
-Yes, I can, and I will.
And then one day, your husband will ignore you instead.
INGRID: We've been over this. I don't need a husband.
-Of course, you do.
Someone has to tell you what to do.
-Wait a minute.
Are you saying that once I married,
you won't tell me what to do?
-I won't even have to talk to you.
-Fine.
I'll go and get myself a husband then.
THE COUNT: And you're getting that fixed, young lady.
-What delusion of grandeur made you think I would pick you?
You're pathetic, talentless, and your blood
type doesn't go with anything.
-Next.
-Ugh.
His hairline is all wrong.
-Next.
-Branagh.
Ian Branagh.
License to thrill.
I've entitled this poem, "An Ode to Ingrid." [clears throat]
I wandered lonely as a dog that hasn't found his owner yet.
When all at once, I saw Ingrid, and I
knew she would want a pet.
-Groveling.
Pathetic.
I kind of like that.
Write his name down.
-Move on, loser.
It's time for rock.
(SINGING) It's about Ingrid.
It's about Ingrid, baby.
It's about Ingrid.
-Great.
More wailing.
-(SINGING) It's about Ingrid.
Yeah.
-So when's the good bit?
Write his name down.
He's as ugly as the other one.
FRIEND: Next.
-Wait.
I don't suppose either of you is any good at carpentry.
-Why?
-I broke a table at the castle, and someone needs to fix it.
-Oh.
I'm ace at woodwork.
Well, quite talented.
Average-ish.
OK.
I'm pants.
-Next.
-Hi, Ingrid.
I know someone who can--
-I've told you a million times, Jonathan.
I am never, ever going to go out with you.
-Now, into the center.
Go on.
Right.
Repeat it back to me.
-I must not bite ears, kick shins,
or elbow the other players.
-Until?
-Until I'm sure the referee can't see me.
-Now, we're talking rugby.
-But Dad, it's cheating.
-I know.
Isn't it fun?
Right.
Let's try some offensive play.
I'll tackle.
Renfield!
-You two, try and block me.
-Tackle me?
-Ready.
One, two, three-- Go!
-Mommy!
Oh.
-For the dead travel fast as they say in my homeland.
I know.
I know I-- I make it look so easy.
ROBIN: That was brilliant.
-I thought you didn't like rugby.
-I don't.
This is evil.
-What are you doing?
-I got great idea, Jonno.
I'm going to snap that parasitic vampire in action.
Show the pictures to the world.
-Dad, vampires don't exist.
-Don't exist?
There's one in this very town, Jonathan.
He wears a cloak.
He lives in a castle.
What more proof do you need?
Now, where's my dynamite?
-Dynamite?
-Well, I got to get into the castle somehow.
-Oh, brilliant plan, Dad.
Very under cover.
Because no one will know it's a massive explosion, will they?
-Trust me, son.
I've been doing this a long time.
Dynamite has never let me down before.
-You won't need dynamite, Dad.
Ingrid broke a table at the castle,
and they need a carpenter.
Why don't you offer to mend it?
-Jonathan, is it really you speaking?
I'm proud of you, my boy.
We'll make a vampire slayer of you yet.
-Right, Vlad.
Now it's your turn.
Renfield, stand over there.
Renfield!
-Mes, Yaster.
-Try to stop Vlad from getting past you.
Now, Vlad, to the attack.
-No one gets past, Renfield the Repulsive.
-This is useless.
I'm never going to get on the team.
-Don't be ridiculous.
Of course, you will.
He'll never get on the team.
What's wrong with him?
-He needs to get a thirst for it, your evilness.
-Ah, thirst to succeed. Come think to think of it.
All this violent exercise has given me a thirst.
-Whoops.
-Vlad, your dad's got that funny look in his eyes again.
-No.
Don't worry.
You won't feel a thing, not after you're dead anyway.
-Vlad!
-Dad, stop!
Friends are not food.
Remember.
-There.
I knew you could do it.
-What?
Was all that a trick?
-Of course, a trick.
Very funny.
-How could you?
-Just proving a point.
You see.
You can use your powers when you want to.
-But Dad, I didn't use any powers.
-Well, then how did you get past Renfield the Repulsive?
-(SQUEAKY) With a well-aimed tackle.
-Oh, I'm proud of you, my son.
What a vampire I'll make of you yet.
ROBIN: No.
No!
Don't pass it to me.
CHLOE: Robin, Robin, wake up.
Wake up.
-I just had a terrible nightmare.
I was playing rugby.
CHLOE: And?
-No, that's it.
Help me get out of the trials tomorrow.
I'm begging you.
CHLOE: Well, I might have one idea that might help.
-Thanks, Chloe.
You're a genius.
-A child prodigy actually.
But let's not split hairs.
THE COUNT: Remember, the pride of our house is your pride.
Our glory is your glory.
The family reputation rests on your shoulders.
Now, have you got your orange for half-time?
-Yes, dad.
-Renfield, attire my son and heir for battle.
Give him his kit, his kit.
-A new kit.
Thanks, dad.
-Now, go and shed the blood of our enemies.
-Good luck, young master.
-Thank you, Zoltan.
-Make me proud, son.
And whatever you do, don't forget to cheat.
-The time has come, Jonno.
The time to fulfill my destiny.
-What?
You're going to teach Year Eight how to make cuckoo clocks?
-Very funny.
I'm going to expose that blood-sucking, revolting,
treacherous-- what are you looking at?
-You've-- you've got something on your back.
-It's loony.
Two O's.
Not lunny.
I am a loony.
-Yes, Dad.
-Mocked by children who can't spell.
That's it.
Once and for all, I'm going to prove vampires exist,
and nothing's going to stop me.
Wish me luck.
-Good luck.
This is just what I need.
-Ugh.
No.
No.
Which leaves--
PAUL: Hey, have you decided yet?
-I've narrowed it down to a short list of two,
both complete idiots.
Yes, you two.
-Excellent.
-Oh.
-But we can't both be your funkadelic muppet of love.
Sorry.
-So who's it going to be?
-I'll know once I've opened my presents from both of you.
-Presents?
What presents?
We haven't got--
---them with us.
-Well, go and get them.
You can give them to me after the match,
because right now, I'm going to watch
my brother get trampled to smithereens.
-She is evil.
-Selfish.
-Spiteful.
-Cruel.
-She's mine.
I deserve her. -No, bro.
I deserve her. -I deserve her more than you.
-Oh hi, Robin.
Why are you dressed like that?
-Why do you think?
Obviously, I've been really hurt,
and I'm in complete agony.
-Ah, nice way out of the trials.
-Chloe's idea.
Now, I won't have to get my teeth knocked out.
-I can't wait.
For once in my life, I won't be different, or weird,
or get funny looks.
At last, I'll know what it's like to be normal.
And if I'm lucky, I might even get on the team.
-What are they laughing at?
-That is the coolest rugby kit I have ever seen.
Thanks, Dad.
[whistle]
COACH: Beginners, line up.
-Good luck.
[bell rings]
-What?
-Hello.
I'm the woodwork teacher from Stokely Grammar School,
and I hear you have a table that needs fixing.
-That's right.
Yeah.
But you can't come in.
Master's orders.
No strange men allowed in the castle when he's asleep.
Didn't you hear me?
No strange men.
-Why hello.
I'm a lady carpenter, and I happened
to hear that you have a table that
needs mending in these parts.
May I come in?
-Where are my manners?
Allow me.
-Go Vlad.
Go!
Go Vlad!
Go!
Robin, give him a bit of support.
-(BORED) Ooh, rugby.
How interesting.
Go Vlad. Actually, mind out for the--
[thud]
That had to hurt.
-No, that's it.
Catch it.
Now, run!
Run!
-Come on.
Squish the pale, little freak.
-That's it.
Dodge.
Dodge left.
No.
Left!
Now swerve.
Swerve!
-Jonathan, buzz off.
-Come on, Vlad.
Rip his legs off.
You could-- [coughing]
-Any chance of a glass of water?
I'm parched.
-How delightful.
Lunch.
-That's it, Vlad.
Tackle him.
Tackle him.
Yes!
OK.
No.
Well, get up then.
What's wrong with you?
It's only a knee.
You've got another one.
[whistle]
What?
-Robin, I'm so proud of you.
Who'd have thought it?
Gloom cookie Robin is a real Branagh after all.
-Is he dead yet?
-He's battered and bruised, but don't worry.
He'll live.
-What a shame.
[clears throat]
-Ah.
You shouldn't have.
No.
Really.
You shouldn't have.
Right.
Off to find me a husband.
[humming wedding march]
-How sweet.
The scent of fear.
And how thrilling to make the chase.
You can run, but you can't hide.
-What am I doing?
Master will be so cross.
I really shouldn't keep you all to myself.
-But then-- then you'd have to share me.
-It would be nice to have something
all to myself for once.
-Wouldn't it just.
Now, wouldn't you like a walk in the lovely fresh air, darling?
-You mean the secret passageway?
-Secret passage?
Where is it quick?
-I'll show you.
For a kiss.
-Open the door, and I will be gentle.
If not-- [laughing] I've still got it.
Coming to get you.
Ready or not.
Renfield!
I'm so hungry.
-Wilkins, good work in the scrum.
You'll be the number eight.
Johnson, as usual, you're on the left flank.
For showing bravery, determination, and willingness
to tackle anyone, the fly-half will be Vladimir Count.
-Oh, yes.
-Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Well done, Vlad.
-Thanks.
I'm on the team, Robin.
-Oh, I'm so jealous.
COACH: Lastly, and a very special position
on the team in recognition of his unflagging support,
despite his tremendous and crippling injuries,
Robin Branagh.
-Cheap.
My color is black.
-I spent my pocket money on that perfume.
-Ah, come on, Ingrid.
Just pick one of us.
-OK.
I'll pick the first one of you to propose to me.
-Propose?
As in marry?
-Who said anything about marriage?
-What do you think you've been competing for?
-Uh, a big wet snog.
-Long walks in the rain.
As the sunset paints the leaves a golden russet.
INGRID: Come on.
Get down on your knees and beg for my hand.
-She's yours.
You deserve her.
-No, bro.
You deserve her.
-No you.
-What was I thinking?
Married to a breather.
Why would I lower myself?
-(GLUMLY) Stokely, Stokely, S-T-O-K-E-L-Y. Go, Stokely.
Go.
[applause]
-Who's there?
JONATHAN: Just me.
Hello.
-I can't wait for you to see these pictures, my boy.
Photos of the Count hanging upside down
from the ceiling, cast-iron proof he's vampire.
I can see the headlines now.
Van Helsing thanked by town mayor.
Van Helsing knighted by queen.
-Yes, dad, except these just show the castle ceiling.
VAN HELSING: I'm going to be so famous.
-Mr. Count isn't in these photos at all.
-What?
-No.
No.
No.
He was-- pointed right at him.
-Maybe the camera's broken.
-No I checked it.
Cleaned it.
Polished all the little mirrors and everything.
Mirrors!
Cameras work with mirrors.
Stupid, stupid camera.
Vampires don't have reflections.
-It's all right, Dad.
I mean we'll get proof next time.
Now, how about I make you a nice cup of tea.
-And here's to the glorious triumph
of my son and heir, Vladimir Dracula.
[howl]
VLAD: Thanks, Dad.
Thanks, Zoltan.
-My noble son has bloodied his sword and by deceit and cunning
has triumphed.
-Except he didn't use deceit.
-Ingrid.
INGRID: Or break a single rule.
-Ingrid!
INGRID: Or cheat.
-Vladimir, is this true?
-Yeah, but I got on the team.
THE COUNT: What?
You've dragged the name of our family through the mud
and then poked it with sticks.
Go to your room.
-But--
-Go to your room now.
-I made at least three boys cry today,
and without even looking at them.
-You go to your room too.
-But I haven't done anything.
-I know, but when the bedroom door's closed,
I can't hear you talking.
-I hope you get tooth decay.
-Um, Master.
I was wondering, will you be sitting on me much longer?
-Yes.
You're being punished.
Have you forgotten why you're down there?
-I'm sorry, master.
I should never, ever have done it.
What was it again?
-It-- it was about this high with
pink lipstick and wearing a dress.
A succulent female skipped into the castle
of her own free will, and you let her get away.
-Oh yeah.
That.
-No one gets past Renfield the Repulsive.
Meals on Heels was delivered right to my tomb-side,
and you let her escape.
-I didn't mean it.
It will never, ever happen again.
I promise.
Please can I get up now?
-I doubt it.
I've just stuck you to the floor.
-What?
Master.
Mas-- Master, don't leave me like this.
THE COUNT: You must stay up here until you
start behaving like an evil vampire.
-But I got picked for the team.
THE COUNT: That's not the point, Vlad.
Do you think those breathers will play fair
when they discover what you are, hm?
Do you think they won't cringe in horror
with their flat teeth, and, ugh, blue canvas trousers.
It'll be stake and garlic before you can say hemoglobin.
-But--
-Accept what you are, Vladimir.
A vampire.
Now, I think I'll go and kick Renfield very hard
up the bottom.
-Zoltan.
-Yes, young master.
-I'm on the rugby team.
[theme music]
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Young Dracula - BBC Series - Season 1 Ep 10 "Blood Sport"

5725 タグ追加 保存
yi 2015 年 1 月 27 日 に公開
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