Brenda stood up. “No, no, no. The dub is directing the movie.”
She tripped.
In the other track, he sighed: “Now we have to kill the audience. It’s in the dual audio contract, clause seven.”
In the right speaker, the exact same actress, in a completely different tone, said in Hindi: “I’m going to check the basement, which is statistically where death occurs.”
Cindy fumbled with the remote. The audio swapped. Suddenly, the killer was speaking French in one ear, Japanese in the other. He stumbled, confused, holding his head. On screen, he started doing the macarena against his will.
“Shut up, Cindy. Let’s go before the Cantonese dub of Ghostface shows up.”
In English, he whispered: “You shouldn’t have switched the language.”