Installa Steam
Accedi
|
Lingua
简体中文 (cinese semplificato)
繁體中文 (cinese tradizionale)
日本語 (giapponese)
한국어 (coreano)
ไทย (tailandese)
Български (bulgaro)
Čeština (ceco)
Dansk (danese)
Deutsch (tedesco)
English (inglese)
Español - España (spagnolo - Spagna)
Español - Latinoamérica (spagnolo dell'America Latina)
Ελληνικά (greco)
Français (francese)
Indonesiano
Magyar (ungherese)
Nederlands (olandese)
Norsk (norvegese)
Polski (polacco)
Português (portoghese - Portogallo)
Português - Brasil (portoghese brasiliano)
Română (rumeno)
Русский (russo)
Suomi (finlandese)
Svenska (svedese)
Türkçe (turco)
Tiếng Việt (vietnamita)
Українська (ucraino)
Segnala un problema nella traduzione
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.
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.
Ooh, black and yellow!
Let's shake it up a little.
Barry! Breakfast is ready!
Ooming!
Hang on a second.
Hello?
- Barry?
- Adam?
- Oan you believe this is happening?
- I can't. I'll pick you up.
Looking sharp.
Use the stairs. Your father
paid good money for those.
Sorry. I'm excited.
Here's the graduate.
We're very proud of you, son.
A perfect report card, all B's.
Very proud.
Ma! I got a thing going here.
- You got lint on your fuzz.
- Ow! That's me!
- Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000.
- Bye!
Barry, I told you,
stop flying in the house!