Previously on this filmed documentary program,
or whatever the fuck this is supposed to be.
Behind this door is the living quarters of The Sire.
The actual Sire?
Do not ever open this door.
Peekaboo.
As I was saying,
- do not ever... - Open the door.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got it.
As leader of...
Co-leader.
... of the Vampiric Council, it is one of my...
Our.
... our duties to be looking after The Sire.
The Sire is the original vampire
from which all other vampires are descended.
Over the centuries,
it has devolved into a horrific and fearsome creature.
He is one very angry, very crispy piece of crust.
But its continued health is of extreme importance
for the fate of all vampire-kind.
So, uh, why are we talking to you about The Sire?
Um...
It is a fucking mess down here.
No one is respecting my organizational system.
What are you pissing on about?
Look at this.
What is the point of having a glowing orb section
if you're gonna put the glowing orb in the monkey paw section?
I've just got to find this stupid magic flute for Laszlo.
He wants to use it to seduce some mail woman,
and to be honest, I'm here for it.
Oh, shit.
- What is it? - Shit, shit, shit,
- The Sire! - shit!
He is... Oh...
- Open... open the door, Nandor. - Yes.
Got it.
- Oh, for fuck's sake. - Oh, damn.
Oh.
Oh, The Sire.
Sire.
- Oh, no. - It seems that The Sire was so hungry
that it took the sharpened bones of its victims
- and tunneled a hole in the wall. - I can't believe it.
Little rascal.
I can't believe you
managed to mess this up so badly, Nandor.
It was your job to feed The Sire.
- Me? - Yes, you.
What?
So, yeah,
turns out I never actually told Nandor to feed The Sire.
How is this my fault?
Because I said to you that
you're the one to be responsible for feeding The Sire.
What have I done?
I was meaning to.
I even wrote it on a sticky note.
"Ask Nandor Feed Sire."
But I never actually got around to giving him the message.
So, you know, I think it's very
difficult to say who's at fault, really.
Why are you just fucking sitting there?!
- We're all gonna fucking die! - All die.
Oh, my love. Please don't tell me
- you believe in this bullshit? - Of course I do.
If the vampire that turns you dies, then you die.
So, if the original vampire dies, you all die?
- All die. - No, it's a fucking urban myth.
Like ghosts or large penises.
You don't want to help? Fine.
I will fix this.
Since this is all my big dumb stupid fault.
- No, Master. - Yes.
Control that hellhound!
Nandor, wait!
- Nandor... - People will believe anything these days.
Absolutely anything.
I tell you, if what they're saying is true,
both my wife and I would be dead by now.
- Yeah. - The Baron obviously turned my wife into a vampire
and she turned me into a vampire.
You two should be dead because The Baron is definitely dead.
Absolutely.
The Baron is definitely dead.
Yeah, burnt to a crisp and buried in the backyard.
In the back garden, as we speak.
- Fuck. Get a shovel. - Yeah.
Gizmo!
I am not accustomed
to taking responsibility for my missteps.
When I was a military general,
if there was a problem in one of my various wars,
I would simply blame another nation
and then we would go to war with them.
And so on, etcetera. We've all been there.
But, as leader of the Vampiric Council...
Coleader!
I must swallow my pride and do what is right.
It says here that the correct name for The Sire
is, in fact, uh, "G-G-Gajillarum"?
I think you swallow the "G," so it's like "Yarilariur."
It doesn't seem right.
- Are you sure? - No.
I need to figure this out before my press conference begins.
No, what? We don't need to do a press conference,
we just need to capture the bloody thing.
No! I need to let the vampire community know
what is happening and put their mind at ease.
'Cause it is I who have failed to perform a very simple job.
I don't think we need to... Oh.
Over the power of the ether,
I hereby summon the vampire society's most respected journalists,
news anchors, bloggers, vloggers
and high school yearbook editors.
Oh, it worked.
Thank you all for coming.
Is this thing on?
- Are you fucking kidding me? - Uh...
But now is not the time for jokes.
This evening,
at approximately 9:53 in the p. m. Staten Island time,
the creature known as The Sire,
- aka Girlyjim... - Nailed it.
... escaped Vampiric Council watch and is currently at large
in the tristate area, exact location unknown.
I, Nandor The Relentless,
co-supreme leader of the Vampiric Council,
do hereby accept full responsibility for this misstep.
- Time for questions. - Coleader Nandor.
- Yes? - Coleader Nandor, hi.
Uh, Lars Murderbone, Orlando Sentinel.
Is there currently any kind of plan in place
to capture The Sire?
We have a plan and it is going absolutely perfectly.
- So, you can go. - Yes.
And you know, there's a lot of speculation saying,
"Oh, this is gonna be the end of vampires as we know it."
What?!
No one asked.
Even if that did happen, we've had a wonderful run,
haven't we? We've had a great time.
- You've doomed us all! - Oh, no!
Okay, bye.
You have just made things significantly worse.
No. No.
- Dig there. - That's literally what I'm doing right now.
Well, dig deeper.
I can't remember where we buried the bastard.
Might this be him?
Uh, that might not.
That is the census taker, 1990.
- What about this chap? - Nope.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Now that rock is beginning to ring a bell.
That rock there.
That does ring a bell, that rock.
Baron? Are you there?
Yes.
- Oh, my God. - Shit.
- Did you hear that? - Baron?
- Yes? - It's over there.
- Baron? - I am here.
- Here, here. Start digging, man. - Here. Come on.
Shit.
Big pull now. Almost there.
Well, fancy seeing you here, Baron.
We thought you were dead.
Well, no, I am not.
You see, when you buried me,
I was pretty much dead, but not completely dead.
Give The Baron his last sip.
Of course.
Shall we just get him in?
- Yeah. - Goodbye, Baron.
I was able to slowly regain my strength,
subsisting on the blood-soaked dirt
of the many, many humans you have buried out here.
That was a bit of luck.
Now, I did try to dig my way to the surface
using just my mouth
and this one arm that is fused to my chest.
I guess I was digging sideways instead of up.
Yeah, that'll happen when your arm is, uh, yeah.
Soon, I recovered enough to cry out
and beg you to dig me up.
Uh, "Help! Help!" I cried.
- Oh, okay. That was you, then. - Right.
Yeah, I heard the screams,
but I just thought it was someone in the neighborhood
in grave danger. I was like, "Not my problem."
That is all in the past,
because I am now back, and I have never felt better.
- If I, if I could just... get... - Well, you look good.
Oh, oh. Almost. Ah. Yes, okay.
- There we go. - Okay.
- Who wants to get smacked first? - Oh.
Yeah, it was a little nerve-racking
seeing The Baron again, considering our-our history.
But he doesn't seem to remember anything.
He was on a lot of drug blood that night, so...
What he don't know won't hurt him, or me.
So nice to be back in the arms
of a big, strong boy. Mwah.
But this means that that Sire theory...
"If he dies they all die"...
that might be real.
Sorry, Baron. Urgent matter.
We must attend to it. Bye!
Feed him. A simple task.
I accept full responsibility.
I don't see how that helps us.
Oh, good evening, my sweet companions.
The Baron. You're alive... ish.
- Well, catch me up. Have you taken over America? - Uh...
Well, we've, um, taken over the local Vampiric Council.
Huzzah!
Yes, huzzah!
But it's not going so great.
Understatement of the year.
What she said.
Yes, you've picked a bit of a shitty time
- to come back from the dead. - I see.
Uh, speaking of which, could one of you be a dear
and push my eye back in?
Guillermo?
Also, I think one of my ears fell off in the foyer,
- if we could... - Which one?
Does it matter?
- Which ear was it again? - The right one.
We need to find The Sire!
I believe his theory. I always have.
Oh. Shit. They're right, what are we doing?
- Nobody panic. Everybody... - I'm not panicking!
We're all gonna die!
My sword.
- Come on, there's no time to waste! - Help!
Sorry, there's not chalkboard in here, so I had to use my mouth.
So, you want to catch a vampire, huh?
Well, it ain't gonna be easy.
It's not like catching rats or elderly joggers.
Joggers. Yeah, that's Jaws, 1975.
The shark kept malfunctioning, and so Spielberg...
Shut up!
You promoted me to be a bodyguard.
I believe that I should be in charge
of catching The Sire.
- All right. - Yeah.
- What? - Fuck it.
- Okay, fine. Yeah, sure, whatever. - Don't give a shit.
Now wait just a moment.
You are going to place the fate of all vampire-kind
into the hands of your familiar?
Well, he's actually quite a skilled vampire hunter.
I mean, he killed you.
- ... gene, he killed Eugene. A very powerful vampire. - Oh.
Maybe later we'll talk about Eugene some more,
but, Guide Lady, I need you to check in
with your intel sources.
How do you know I have intel sources?
Oh, you don't?
No, I-I do have intel sources. The Watchers.
Nadja, why don't you go with her, tag along?
Maybe you'll learn a thing or two.
And, Laszlo, why don't you change your shoes,
'cause those don't look comfy at all, and you're gonna
- do some groundwork, okay? - Why don't you get fucked?
Okay. And you go get me a glass of water, no ice.
Yeah, I wouldn't have a clue
where you would find something like that.
- Don't get cocky. - Eat shit, Guillermo.
Have you got some sack, my boy.
So then, if you don't need me, I'll be on my way.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, Guillermo.
Not so fast.
- Not so fast, old chap. - Okay, then.
What are you waiting for? You have your orders. Go.
Let's do it. - Come on.
When I'm in desperate need of information,
I have two go-to sources.
The Watchers.
Are they meeting us here, or... ?
Oh, they're here already.
They've always been here.
I mean, at least since this building was built.
Hello, ladies.
Oh, yeah.
- Honey, it's been way too long. - Oh.
And looks like you finally made a friend.
- Hello. - We have a desperate emergency.
We were wondering if anyone has spotted
an ancient vampire on the loose?
- About four-foot-nine. Horrible face. - Oh, my.
Completely naked.
Genitalia like nothing you've ever seen.
You'd be surprised at what I have seen,
but no, not ringing any bells.
Speaking of ringing bells, listen to this.
You know how Count Blake the Torturous
is selling his haunted clock tower?
- Yes. - Well, it turns out
they had to lower the asking price, twice.
- Twice! - In this market?
I know. Just because it has half a staircase
doesn't make it a duplex.
Also, yeah, they're, like, super gossipy bitches.
Oh! Sorry! This is very urgent!
- Back to it, please. We need your help. - No fun.
All right, I'll check in with some of the other gargoyles.
Thank you.
Oh, you know, I've heard this sound at night sometimes,
but I always just thought it was a passing truck.
Huh!
Oh.
All right, all right, I've got something for you.
So, hearing from one of my 'goyles out in Queens...
"'Goyles." We get it.
Low-hanging fruit has never made me laugh.
Your sense of humor is so fucking interesting.
Oh, shut up, you old cooze.
- The Sire! The Sire! - You got it.
A creature that matches that description
was spotted in Ozone Park.
- Ozone Park. Got it. - Come on!
- Thank you. - Uh, wait! Don't you have any hot goss for us?
Quid pro quo, Clarice.
Sorry. Fresh out.
- Got to run! - Oh! Nice!
I guess see you next time you need something from us.
- What a pair of messy bitches. - Yeah.
I'm obsessed.
- Sire! - Where's that magic flute
- when you need it? - Shush, Laszlo.
All right, everyone,
stay alert and stay vigilant.
Careful. He might be hiding up a tree.
Oh...
Stop!
- What is that? - Look at these footsteps.
- Something's not right. - Careful!
Just like I suspected.
Vampire piss.
How do you know what vampire piss tastes like?
- Just trust me, okay? - Hmm.
Judging by these tracks,
he's headed... south.
- Oh. - Okay, you heard Piss Man. Let's move.
- She calls for us to move! - I just fucking said it.
She just fucking said it!
I made a posting on the website Nextdoor
asking if anyone saw anything suspicious,
but it-it just kind of turned into
an orgy of racism.
- Okay! Come on! This way! - Oh, we must hurry.
Go, Hellhound. Go, baby.
Careful, careful.
Looks like The Sire stopped for a snack.
- Oh, little snack. - Probably the security guard.
- Yum. - It's like the meat has been sucked out from the inside,
like a hairy crab leg.
- He probably took the carcass inside. - The what?
- The "cuh-cass." The "cuh-cass." - Yes,
- "cuh-cass." - Which means one thing.
He's trapped.
- This is our chance. - Great.
- Well, you go ahead and we'll wait here. - No!
- All your lives depend on this! - All vampires' lives!
Not mine. Not energy vampires.
This is hopeless.
The sun is going to come up and, when it does,
it's going to kill that thing and then we're all going to die
and it's all because of me!
Fucking...
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, okay?
And help me help you fix this!
Let's go kill that Sire.
- Yeah! - Yes. Well, no, no!
Let's not kill. We're not gonna kill it.
Whoa there, beast! Heel!
- No, we're not gonna kill it, remem... - Cursed brute!
A little help, please?
Wow, that freak really tore this place up.
Where is the ravenous little monster?
Okay, here's what we're gonna do.
Nadja, Laszlo, you'll find The Sire
and corner him to the back of the store
while Colin Robinson, Nandor and myself will be there
waiting for him so he doesn't escape.
And, uh,
Guide Lady and The Baron...
- Mm-hmm. - ... whatever you do, just do it quietly.
Will do.
Come on, my darling. Let's head for the women's intimates.
- This way. - Can you stop flashing that thing in my eyes?
Sorry.
Yoo-hoo!
Grijillium.
Now, if I had my magic flute,
this would all be over in two minutes.
Would you shut the fuck up about your pissing magic flute?
My magic flute works.
Grianjistun!
Bloody shit! There he is!
- Oh! - Whoa!
Oh!
Whoa!
Shit.
Dring Grinjly.
Gruj-Grujum!
Oh.
Jin-Jingreelij.
We've come to take you home to your lovely, cozy prison cell!
What is he doing?
We need something to get his attention.
Yeah, well, we might be in luck.
We don't have a magic flute.
We got one of these. Don't mind if I do.
Careful.
Oh, yes. That's right.
Come on, big green baby. Yes, come to Mama.
Oh, Laszlo, look out!
My darling!
- Fuck me. - Leave him alone!
Stop it!
Leave my husband alone!
Laszlo!
My darling! Oh!
Are you dead?! My love.
I think I swallowed the harmonica.
Where is that thing?
If I had more time, I would build something more advanced,
obviously, but...
I think this will get the job done.
They didn't have any armor, so I had to make do.
- Yeah. See? - Yeah, that'll do it.
- Yes. - Yeah.
All we need now is bait.
No. No.
- Yes. - No.
Why do I have to be tied to this rope?
So that we can yank you back
moments before you are viciously mauled.
Shit. What the fuck is this?
Greetings and salutations!
Laszlo, enough.
You did not swallow a bloody harmonica.
Yes... I... did.
Human bait. Obviously! We should have done this from the start!
Nice little car, Baron!
Oh, I am controlling it with my mind.
Looking good.
That's great. Where-where is The Sire, though?
He lunged at us. And he moves like lightning.
So be prepared to yank that rope
and the human bait very, very quickly.
Don't care about it. Just yank.
Negabme.
Shit.
Quick! Get out of here! He can see us!
Make yourself look appetizing, Guillermo.
Shake your moneymaker.
Enough of this.
Why did you yank me early?
That's what she said.
I just found out about that series of jokes.
Because you should not be in this situation.
This is all my doing.
I should be the one that goes toe to toe with the beast.
Nandor, wait.
Uh, I have something I need to tell you.
Okay.
I don't think you should wear that helmet,
because it's going to make absolutely no difference
when The Sire is crushing you and mincing you to smithereens.
- Uh, I... - You look very stupid.
- Okay. - Take it off.
And I appreciate you telling me that.
You are a good friend.
Thanks for nothing.
- But I was... trying to save... - Wish me luck.
- Luck. - Good luck.
Hello, Mr. Sire! I'm coming to visit with you!
Hey! Hey!
- Hey! Quit! Can you not do that, please?! - Neberme ate.
That's not very nice! Hey!
- Neberme ate. - Please don't do that.
What is Nandor doing?
The beast just wants to be free.
- Neberme ate. - Ha-ha! Can't catch me! Ow!
- How do you know that? - Well, that is what it keeps saying.
"Neberme ate." Which means "do not take me back"
in the ancient vampire tongue.
I thought we all knew this.
You speak its language?
But of course.
- Master, wait! I'm coming! - Wh...
- Whoa! - It's fine. It's going great.
I think he's getting tired.
- Speak to it. Speak to it. - Why should I have to speak...
Ko ne dabas, mek?
Ow.
Ne, ne, ne.
Oh, oh!
What's so G-damn funny?
Oh. Ladies and gentlemen,
everything is okay now.
Uh, you see, Goëjlrm here thought
- that you guys wanted to kill him. - We did.
- What? - No, it... No.
No, no, no, no.
Of course not!
But now that he has been fed
and knows that he is safe, everything is okay.
- Oh. - Enter kate ne atgavo.
Ah. And if you try to put him back in that cell,
he's going to rip each of your throats out.
- Fair enough. - Eh.
We could add some extra hay, you know,
maybe a rope swing.
Enter kate ne atgavo!
Copy that!
Makes perfect sense.
Come on, old friend.
No one's going to hurt you.
Can I just say, on behalf of us...
Oh, fuck it. Doesn't matter.
So we were able to get The Sire
back under Vampiric Council control.
See? No one's going to hurt you. We are all, uh, your friends.
Turns out The Sire had an absolutely excellent sense
of humor. Very dry.
Do you think he'd mind it if I pulled his tail?
- He likes it! - No, no.
Nandor, leave it, you fucking idiot.
And we have sorted out
a much more suitable living situation.
For all involved.
Well, frankly, it has turned out
to be a pretty terrific setup for all three of us.
- Butam vednum. - Oh.
Goëjlrm has comfort
and space and companionship.
Neves ton tyeknon itho?
Yes, that infernal squirrel.
It drives him to madness.
And the hound has been able to really be itself.
Ah, well,
I am thankful to no longer be suckling
blood-soaked dirt underground.
Oh.
It is time.
And we are able to regularly feed thanks
to the online service Airbnb.com.
Hello. Is this the Rustic Remote Airbnb rental?
Yes. Do come in.
You're just in time for...
dinner.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -