(whistles)
(horns honking)
DUCKMAN: Yo, slopmeistress,
you call this untreated sewage "breakfast"?
No, you bloated sack
of partially defatted meat by-products!
I call it "dinner"!
You were asleep all day!
It just so happens I had to spend last night
in a filthy, airless crawl space
at Quickie Bob's Motel poking a camera through a hole
in case a certain nymphomaniac chose that night
to violate her wedding vows.
You think that's easy?
I took my life in my hands... among other things.
You mean you actually found a client stupid enough to pay you?
It's always about money, isn't it?
A guy's not allowed to have a hobby.
Couldn't we have this idiotic conversation
some other time-- say, at your cremation?
We have to get Grandma-ma ready for her birthday photo.
How old is the birthday girl this year?
Maybe we should cut her in half and count the rings.
(Duckman laughs wildly)
(laughter becomes distant)
GRANDMA-MA: Trigorin.
Bernice, did Mama ever talk to you about her life?
Her life?!
Well, you know, I didn't grow up with her,
so I don't know anything about what she was like
before we were born.
Actually, neither do I.
I know she was born in Russia,
but she was never very clear about dates.
She didn't talk much about it.
I got the feeling it was too painful.
Oh, I wish I could find out.
I wonder all sorts of things.
Was she beautiful? Was she rich? Was she happy?
Where was her home?
GRANDMA-MA: My home was in Russia
where I was the eldest daughter
of the wealthiest landowner in all of Shplinsk.
There were those who would say
I was not unpleasant to look at.
On the first day of each month,
Father would send me to the village to collect rent
from the serfs.
My dear Sophia Longnamovitch,
the high incidence of superstition,
illiteracy and sarcasm in our village
has caused sales to plummet
at our humble Bookski Nookski.
Therefore, dear Sophia,
we cannot pay you that which we owe.
Fear not, Morris and Sergei Morrisergeivich.
I will tell my father that bandits
stole your rent money from me on the way home.
Bless you, Sophia!
Fluffavich!
Uranuskya!
How are you this fine Russian morning?
Not so good, Miss Sophia.
We have no money for you today
as we have given it all to the Siberia Club
which is dedicated to saving
the Arctic ice floes from exploitation
by the international Ice Cube Cartel.
As always, a worthy cause,
friends Fluffavich and Uranuskya.
I will tell my father that a giant silver egret
flew off with your rent money.
BOTH: Bless you, Miss Sophia.
MAN: Must always look...
Petrov.
For is always many volves, volves...
GRANDMA-MA: Whenever I was within ten meters of Petrov,
my face would grow hot and flushed,
my throat became a desert and my body parts would throb
in a savage, pulsating Cossack rhythm.
Sophia. How delightful to see you.
I am tutoring the local peasants
so that we may all speak fluent English in act two.
Oh, friend Petrov,
you are the kindest, noblest army officer
in all of Russia.
Why not finish the sentence?
Petrov is the noblest in Russia,
while I, Trigorin, am but a lowly stable boy
living in a rat- infested hovel
among the foul-tasting dung of the horses of noblemen.
Petrov is handsome and brave,
while I, Trigorin, take not my pleasure from living women
but am forced to satisfy my manful urges
in the company of goats and chickens.
Yes! Have your fun, my friends.
Laugh and make merry upon I, Trigorin,
the lonely, impoverished,
despised, smelly and perverted stable boy.
Problem with the rent again, Trigorin?
Interesting fact:
my money was stolen not five minutes ago
by a bunch of bandits and a giant silver egret.
I'd be happy to work out a trade.
Oh, thank you, but I don't need any dung.
We're at war. We're at war.
War is a terrible thing, young Ajaxski,
but when it comes, all good men must take up arms.
I, Petrov, vow to fight these unnamed bastards--
whoever they may be--
with every drop of blood that flows in my veins.
And I, Trigorin, vow to stay here
to protect your wives and daughters
while you are being slaughtered like dogs
on the frozen battlefields.
Oh. I am forgotting.
Is a letter for you, Trigorin.
You're drafted.
(shrieks): Dwa...!
...ski.
I am about to have my head cut off by Huns.
What does the army care if my prostate's the size of a pirogi?
They don't.
That's just something I enjoy doing
in a nonsexual sort of way.
Now, to determine
whether you're medically fit to serve,
please answer the following questions:
Have you ever had dry mouth? Yes.
Dry cough? Yes.
Dry heaves? Yes.
Pyorrhea? Yes.
Diarrhea? Yes.
Irritated bowels? Yes.
Vaginitis? Had or given?
Had. Ah. Yes.
Congratulations.
You're in the Imperial Army now.
(loud bang)
(dramatic music plays)
(explosion)
(thundering hoofbeats)
(horse neighing)
(swords being drawn)
(distant scream)
(cocktail music playing, slurping on straw)
(neighing)
(dramatic music plays)
(guttural scream)
(cocktail music playing)
(dramatic music plays)
(men shouting, swords clashing)
(explosions)
Whoa! I'd like to ride that serf!
"I enjoy long walks on the tundra,
"icy bubble baths and strong men
who know how to treat a slightly overweight woman."
Whoa! Yeah, baby!
(explosion)
(birds chirping)
(cattle moos)
(chickens cluck)
(whistling)
(cowbell rings)
Grease up the riding crop, honey!
It's your stable man!
Trigorin, great to see you.
Have you any news of Petrov?
Basically, he's dead.
They haven't made a positive ID.
They're still going through dental records,
hangnails, body parts, but it doesn't look good.
(crying)
Oh, there, there.
There, there.
Ah, Sophia, would you mind crying just a little harder
and maybe a little to the left?
Oh, yes!
Yeah, baby!
Oh-ho, yes!
Cry for me, baby! Cry for me!
(crying)
(thunder crashing)
Petrov! Petrov!
No, Petrov is the dead one.
I am Trigorin, the one with a pulse!
Petrov dead!
Trigorin alive!
Why do you have so much trouble grasping this simple concept?
GRANDMA-MA: And then, one night, something happened.
Something so strange and terrible
that it could have come out of a melodramatic Russian novel!
TRIGORIN: Fire! Fire!
Wake up! Wake up!
Cossacks have set fire to the house,
but I have saved your family, including, as of now, you,
and, may I point out that it is I, Trigorin,
not the dead Petrov who is saving you, because it is...
Can we go?!
Yeah. I was pretty much done.
(flames crackling, cattle moos)
Okay. So. Everyone safe and accounted for?
Beautiful!
Now, just so we're all on the same page,
let's recap what happened tonight:
Your home is now totally... what?
Destroyed.
Good. And your family's money is...?
Gone!
Excellent.
Meaning that from this day forward,
you will have no choice
but to come with Trigorin to...?
America?
Because I...
Trigorin...
not the dead...
Petrov...
saved your family's...
...lives.
I accept your spontaneous
expression of gratitude with humility and smugness.
(cattle mooing)
(horns honking)
Russia? Was that all Mama said?
There were some other things
but it was so long ago.
She didn't talk much about Dad.
I think he saved her life somehow,
and that's when they emigrated.
He saved her life, but did she say anything
about falling in love with him?
No, but she married him.
She came to America with him.
She must have loved him.
GRANDMA- MA" So greatly did I miss my dear Petrov
that I thought my very soul would shatter.
But I had pledged myself to Trigorin
and I vowed to make myself love him.
Hey, mama!
Dig those full, ripe, childbearing hips.
We finally arrived in New York City,
but it was far different than I had imagined,
and the air-- I had never inhaled
such a foul mixture of horse droppings and human filth!
Wow! Smells just like home.
After walking the streets for hours,
Trigorin finally found us a place to live.
Magnificent!
What a palace!
And it's practically dung-free!
Okay, I'm bushed. Let's hit the floor.
We'll have to do this in shifts.
Who wants the fire escape?
(snoring)
(Trigorin whispering): So, uh, wifey,
what say we celebrate coming to America?
While I am more or less willing
to discharge my matrimonial duties,
perhaps now is not the perfect moment.
What, are you kidding? What better time?
SOPHIA: Uh, perhaps when my brothers and sisters
and mother and father are not asleep
on either side of us.
Honey, we have been here 18 hours.
It's time you dropped your old-world morals
into the euro-trash can.
Just snuggle up close.
Good. What is that?
Oh, it's your dad's leg.
(chuckles)
(whispering): Excuse me, Fyodor.
Hello! No, no, it is not morning yet.
Would you mind rolling over just a pinch?
Your daughter and I are going to play hide the blintz.
Thanks. You're a dear.
(rooster crowing)
SOPHIA: Trigorin? Trigorin!
I am grateful for the kindness
you have shown my family--
saving our lives,
bringing us to this new land,
yet, as I lay on the floor
last night with each of my limbs
touching either another person or a wall,
I found my optimism about America growing dimmer.
(gasps): Sophela, I am shocked.
USA is number one, my girl,
and until they get enough evidence to deport me,
I'm going to believe that right here in America
even the most ridiculous dream of the most ridiculous loser
is absolutely guaranteed to come true.
Void where prohibited. Your mileage may vary.
Past performance no guarantee of future return.
Not affiliated with the America School of Broadcasting.
Member FDIC.
Oh, Trigorin,
you are such a cockeyed idealist!
So, what is your American dream?
I'll bet you have one somewhere inside your secret place.
You found my secret place?
Your heart.
Ah. Yeah, yeah.
Well, ever since I was a young stable toddler,
I dreamt of one day opening my own business...
(all giggling)
But as these Americans say, it takes money to makes money,
and I still can't find those damn money trees!
As an alternative, perhaps we could work.
Work?!
Perhaps since we hope
for our lives here to be sweet,
we could open a candy store.
Candy store?
You mean a place where two consenting adults,
one of whom wears very little clothing,
performs, for a nominal handling charge, any sex act
except a kiss full on the lips?
No. I mean a store that sells candy.
Oh, okay.
That could work, too.
(crowd cheering)
I can't believe it.
We really did it!
Um... yes.
"We" did it in the sense of me
spending the last five years cleaning fish
while you entertained yourself with shadow puppets.
TRIGORIN: Look, a dog!
Arf!
(chuckles)
Oh, got to go.
What?!
Yeah. Wish I could stick around,
but I've got lots of important stuff to do.
Don't worry. I'll be back at 6:00,
7:00, tops, 9:00, the very latest,
but definitely no later than ten...ish, Moscow time.
Trigorin, wait! I need you!
(whispering): If only you did, Sophia.
(Trigorin mumbling incoherently)
Who is it?
Who goes there?
(mumbling)
Trigorin, you've been in the rum balls again!
(belches)
Come. Let's go to bed.
Bet you'd rather be saying that to your beloved Petrov!
Oh, is that the cause of your erratic behavior?
It is true, Petrov once meant something to me,
but I am your wife now
and it is to you to whom I am devoted to.
It is to you who I honor and respect,
and-- if you look at it a certain way-- love.
Love?
GRANDMA-MA: From that day forward, Trigorin was a changed man.
Soon we went from selling penny candies
to serving two-dollar steaks and three-dollar martinis.
Is this country great or what?
We've got money, friends, money, success, money, money and money.
I told you everything was going to work out in the New World.
And money!
I tell you, Soph, looking back at my humble beginnings
as a lonely, impoverished, despised, smelly
and perverted stable boy, I would never have believed
this moment could come-- a moment when I am completely
fulfilled, utterly happy, when I feel like nothing
could possibly ever, ever, ever go wrong...
(bell tinkles)
Why do I give them these setups?
No...!
But where are my manners?
Petrov, old friend, let me look at you.
Hmm... something different about you.
Well, I...
No, don't tell me. I can guess.
Let's see...
put on weight?
Wearing contacts?
Trimmed your nasal hairs?
Had your skin bleached?
I lost a leg in the war.
You shaved your beard!
Petrov, we-we thought you were...
Taller?
Dead.
Oh. Natural mistake.
Oh, Petrov, how I've missed...
(clears throat)
That is, I suspect that certain individuals
were concerned
about your well-being during your prolonged absence.
Certain individuals, having traveled aimlessly
around the world for many lost years,
may take comfort in those cryptic sentiments.
So, Petrov, bubee, thanks for dropping by.
Really. Give us a call when you land on your feet.
Or should I say "foot"?
Bye-bye.
(bell tinkles)
Petrov, wait!
Trigorin, we have plenty of room.
Couldn't Petrov stay with us?
With us? You know how I like
to parade around the house in my underwear.
That is, if I wore any.
Kind Sophia, I will not accept charity.
If I stay here, I must earn my keep.
Thanks, but we already have a doorstop.
He could bus tables, wash dirty dishes.
Couldn't you, Petrov?
With one foot tied behind my back.
(Petrov and Sophia laugh)
All right, old friend.
If it's demeaning work you want,
demeaning work you shall have.
You can start by licking these ashtrays clean.
GRANDMA-MA: Many tense weeks passed.
Perhaps it was foolish
to hope that a man as insecure as Trigorin
would allow Petrov back into my life,
but sometimes hope is all a woman has.
You and Trigorin, you must be... happy.
Yes, we must.
Petrov, please understand.
When I saw you again, after so many years,
I harbored thoughts unworthy of a married woman.
You will always be important to me,
but it is to my husband to whom I must be forever true to.
Why don't you just lick his nipples already?!
Trigorin!
I can't take it anymore, and I won't!
Tell me, Petrov, when you lie with my wife,
do you laugh at me?
Did you tell her what a cowardly,
sniveling, nancy boy I am?
How I spent the war hidden in a foxhole
reading girlie magazines?
How I set fire to her father's house
and staged her rescue
just so she'd be forever indebted to me?!
Okay, I'm going to take that as a "no."
Feeling a lot of tension right now.
How could you?!
How could you do such a thing?!
Because I loved you, because I wanted you,
and-and... I don't know, fire kind of turns me on.
Wait! Wait! I remember something.
Yes, it's all coming back to me.
I was there the night of the fire.
I had come home to find my beloved Sophia.
Don't worry, Sophia!
I'll save you
and your family and your possessions.
Unless, of course, this fire is for insurance purposes.
(grunts)
Must free self... to save Sophia.
(maniacal chuckling)
Is someone there?
Please help me!
The fire! The accident!
I must have blocked it all out
because I believed you loved Trigorin.
You! You have ruined my life!
You have cost me my leg.
And my favorite one, too!
Yeah, but, come on,
think of the money you saved on shoelaces.
Most unforgivably, you have betrayed the woman I love.
I, Petrov, challenge you to a duel to the death.
Well, since you're a leg short, I accept.
Pick the place.
It must be somewhere isolated.
Devoid of human society.
Lakehurst, New Jersey.
Jersey? Great!
How am I supposed to get to Jersey?
West Side Highway to George Washington.
You'd like me to get caught in that traffic, wouldn't you?
I'm taking the Pulaski Skyway.
PETROV: You could grab the ferry to Staten Island,
take the Outerbridge Crossing and be there in an hour.
You're right, and I'd save on tolls!
Petrov, you were the finest marksman in all of Shplinsk.
This is not a duel.
It is murder.
No, my love, it is honor.
Whatever he has done, he has done for me.
Please, please, don't kill him.
He has made his own fate.
BOTH: One... two...
three... four... five...
(yammers)
(gasps)
(loud explosion)
STEINSKI: Well, Mrs. Trigorin,
you appear to be what we board-certified obstetricians
refer to as "pregnant."
Trigorin's baby.
Babies.
Three to be exact.
What we medical professionals often refer to as "triplets."
GRANDMA-MA: Trigorin and Petrov were gone.
And yet from that senseless tragedy
came such beauty... my babies.
BOTH: Happy birthday, Mama.
I just wish... I wish I could have known her.
And you.
We have time, Beverly.
You're home now.
Yeah, we're all home.
GRANDMA-MA: My home was in Russia
where I was the eldest daughter
of the wealthiest landowner in all of Shplinsk.
There were those who would say
I was not unpleasant to look at.
TRIGORIN: Why don't you just lick his nipples already?!