Установить Steam
войти
|
язык
简体中文 (упрощенный китайский)
繁體中文 (традиционный китайский)
日本語 (японский)
한국어 (корейский)
ไทย (тайский)
Български (болгарский)
Čeština (чешский)
Dansk (датский)
Deutsch (немецкий)
English (английский)
Español - España (испанский)
Español - Latinoamérica (латиноам. испанский)
Ελληνικά (греческий)
Français (французский)
Italiano (итальянский)
Bahasa Indonesia (индонезийский)
Magyar (венгерский)
Nederlands (нидерландский)
Norsk (норвежский)
Polski (польский)
Português (португальский)
Português-Brasil (бразильский португальский)
Română (румынский)
Suomi (финский)
Svenska (шведский)
Türkçe (турецкий)
Tiếng Việt (вьетнамский)
Українська (украинский)
Сообщить о проблеме с переводом
According to all known laws
of aviation,
there is no way a bee
should be able to fly.
Its wings are too small to get
its fat little body off the ground.
The bee, of course, flies anyway
because bees don't care
what humans think is impossible.
BARRY BENSON:
(Barry is picking out a shirt)
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.
Ooh, black and yellow!
Let's shake it up a little.
JANET BENSON:
Barry! Breakfast is ready!
BARRY:
Coming!
Hang on a second.
(Barry uses his antenna like a phone)
Hello?
ADAM FLAYMAN:
(Through phone)
- Barry?
BARRY:
- Adam?
ADAM:
- Can you believe this is happening?
BARRY:
- I can't. I'll pick you up.
(Barry flies down the stairs)
MARTIN BENSON:
Looking sharp.
JANET:
Use the stairs. Your father
paid good money for those.