Original subtitles

Hey! What the heck's goin' on?

Just tidyin' up. Go back to sleep.

Paul. Paul, have you gone crazy?

I've been crazy, I'm now goin' sane!

"Paris Pastorale!"

This one almost sold!

Here's another one that almost sold.

"The Moulin Blues."

That was one of your best works.

Oh? How about "The Maiden of Versailles?"

Oh, no, you don't! You're not gonna demolish "The Maiden."

Oh? Who's not?

She's mine! You gave her to me!

Casey, give me that painting!

- No, sir! - They're my paintings.

- I'll do with them what I want. - Here, mind this for me.

Boy, is she a sound sleeper!

Come on, Paul, what's gotten into you?

I'm goin' back to the States.

You're not serious.

Oh? Watch how I pack my suitcase.

Here, I'll leave these with you.

Oh!

- Oh, she can sleep! - Casey, who is she?

I stole her out of a parked convertible last night.

You sto... You know something, Casey?

You're getting absolutely depraved!

There, shake hands with a real doll.

Oh! For...

Here, matched set, his and hers.

Now look, why are you leaving? One good reason!

Casey, I am...

sick of being supported by my fiance's father.

I'm sick of supporting you!

I'm sick of Paris! And I'm also a stinking artist!

- Is that good enough? - No!

First, you're a heck of an artist.

I have never sold one painting.

Well, I haven't sold one story.

Does that make me a stinking writer?

- Yes. - I can't accept that.

Alright, let's just leave it that I haven't seen

my girlfriend in a year and... And I miss her, okay?

You're really gonna marry her, huh?

- That's right. I am. - Okay, Paul.

Look, I... I know you're mind's made up,

so, anything I say now, I sincerely believe.

Casey, the only thing you sincerely believe in is sex.

True. And your ability.

Paul...

when we moved into this place, I admired this and...

Well, you gave it to me.

Since then I've said to myself,

"Case, you may be a fake, but you will never die

an unknown because you own this painting."

It's my proof, that I knew you, that we once shared a studio.

Paul, without meaning to,

you're giving me a tiny truck with immortality.

Oh!

For that, I thank you.

Hey, you know something, Casey? You're a terrible man.

Boy, you would say anything to keep me

and my check here, wouldn't you?

Yes, and in that order, you first, your check second.

- Uh-huh. - Aw, come on, Paul.

I could've sponged off people with bigger

weekly allowances than you, but I like you.

I like your paintings. I wish you'd stay.

Now, watch it, Case.

A faint touch of honest emotion crept in there.

Yeah! How 'bout that?

- Oh, no! No, sir! - Oh, no.

- Alright, where are you going? - To Zorgus'.

To pick up the rest of my masterpieces.

Whoa. Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul.

Now, look, just for the sake of sentiment...

after you and Laurie get married

will you try to send me a little money?

Oh...

No!

- Mr. Zorgus. - No, Mr. Sloane.

I have not sold any of your paintings.

In that case, Mr. Zorgus,

I'd like you to return them. Where are they?

- In the washroom. - Hanging by the bowl.

I'll get 'em. I'll get 'em.

In the bath...

Is that where you display an artist's work?

My walls are too valuable to cover with junk.

Junk?

- This isn't junk? - Oh, yes.

But this junk people buy.

Oh, Mr. Sloane.

I have tried to sell your paintings, believe me.

- I bet you have. - Oh!

I think you're a good painter.

Your artist friends think you're a good painter.

The prince thinks you're a good painter.

- No, I don't. - Shut up.

But the customers wouldn't buy.

If I'm so good, why won't they buy?

Because they never heard of you.

So, of course, they assume you're a bum.

- A bum? - Yes, a bum.

Shut up.

What do you have to do to get a break?

- Cut off an ear? - That's not a bad idea.

That's good publicity.

How 'bout if I slit my throat?

You got a deal. You kill yourself,

I buy all this junk right now.

Oh, Mr. Sloane, believe me!

Dead artists are more saleable.

- Like hotcakes, they sell. - Shut up.

- Hello, Mrs. Fromkis. - Bonjour, Mr. Casey.

Taxi!

It's not enough you owe me rent, you have to steal my profit?

Don't worry about it, Mr. Fromkis.

Just put it on the tab.

Why didn't you put the cab on the tab?

- Where to, sir? - Coco La Fontaine.

Coco La Fontaine in the afternoon?

I go there every afternoon.

You go to a nightclub in the afternoon?

It's the only way I can get a good table. Let's go.

Now, hold it, hold it, hold, hold it, hold it.

Darling, please try to understand

that you are the daughter of King Neptune!

You are a princess of the deep!

Here, here, let me show you, look, look, look.

Now, you have to handle this grass

as if it were a satin nightgown. See?

- Like this, huh? Huh? - Oui.

- Oui. - Yea h, oui, yea h, oui.

And not like a lotta limp lettuce, okay?

- Oui. - Yeah, oui-Here, here.

You're late, Somerset.

I thought maybe you had decided to write

your great novel about somebody else's establishment.

Oh, never!

Girls, come and say hello to George Bernard.

Well, who's life story have you decided to hear today?

I'm sorry, but I don't have time for research today.

- Oh! - Oh!

The poor chickens will be so disappointed.

Here, take a look at that!

Here, girls, presies these around.

Now, whose little abstract doodles are these?

A brilliant young artist by the name of Paul Sloane

whose career and mine you hold in your lovely hands.

And how did they get into my lovely hands?

Madame Coco, if I don't sell some of these paintings today

I'm afraid I can't go ahead with my book about you and your club.

What's one got to do with the other?

Paul Sloane has made it possible for me to live in Paris.

You mean he keeps you?

Sponsors me.

Unless he sells some of these paintings,

he's going to leave Paris.

And if he leaves Paris, my book,

our book, "The House That Coco Built"

may never get published.

Uh, you mean, uh, he'd stay if I bought some paintings?

Yes. The whole lot for a 1000 Francs. What do you say?

Oh, well, um, alright.

Ladies, you all got yourselves a piece of art.

You know, um, on second thought, it...

it might give a little... extra class to the place.

My mother had a hand-painted picture once.

It was of my father...

in a tropical setting.

He was leaning on a bunch of bananas.

Fromkis? Ask Paul to come to the phone, please.

I'm a delicatessen, not a phone company. He's not here.

Yeah, well... A... alright, well, when he comes in,

would you tell him to rush right over to Coco La Fontaine's

at 42 Rue St. Leger?

Yeah, it's a matter of life and death.

Hold the wire!

My chopped herring is more important than

his whole life and death.

What's the number?

Coco La Fontaine's, 42 Rue St. Leger.

"St. Leger." Alright.

- Thanks, Mr. Fromkis. - You're welcome.

Sarah.

When Mr. Picasso comes in, give him this message.

A business card you use?

A piece of brown paper you couldn't find? You think...

Sarah.

My feet hurts and I have gas. Just give the message.

Uh, that's about right, girls.

Look, Casey, I've got my plane ticket,

there's nothing you could do or say to stop...

Voila! Paul Sloane's first professional showing!

They look pretty good hanging there, don't they, kid?

I must say they sure have brightened up

our little place, Leonardo.

Casey, what kind of a place is this to hang art?

What difference does it make what kind of a place

your picture's hanging in?

Well, I... it makes a difference to me, buddy.

Oh, come on, Paul. Oh, don't.

Oh, don't be ridiculous!

The Louvre should get the kind of traffic this place gets!

- Get out of my way, Case. - Give me the painting!

- I'm not gonna let you go! - Give me those painting!

- They're sold! - I don't...

Y... you've got a 1000 franc credit here.

- Credit? - Yeah.

You can come here every night

for two years, buster.

Credit? You didn't say anything about credit!

- Give me the paintings, Casey. - No, Paul.

They're sold! Go on, give 'em here!

Okay, you win!

Paul!

Buddy.

I'll be back. Wait! Let's talk this over, Paul!

♪ Beautiful dreamer ♪

♪ Wake unto me ♪

♪ Starlight and ♪

♪ Something are waiting I

♪ For me ♪

♪ Me♪♪

I shouldn't be singin' with you.

I shouldn't even be drinkin' with you. You're...

You're a rat! You know that?

I know I'm a rat, I'm a big, fat rat.

And I appreciate you allowing me to drink with you.

I only allow you because it's my last night in Paris.

Gimme another bottle, you rat!

One more drink and you drop dead.

Good! Good-oh!

Zorgus said that if I killed myself

he'd buy all my paintings.

- Did he say that? - Mm-hm.

Hey! Hey, hey, hey. That's a good idea!

To die.

- Give me the bottle. - No.

What you do is, you commit suicide

and then leave a note blaming Zorgus.

It's great idea.

- Put him out of business. - Yeah.

- Put me out of business, too. - Then don't commit suicide.

- That's a better idea. - Give me the bottle.

Wait... wait, what you do is you,

you make believe you commit suicide. Huh?

That's a great joke!

- Oh, boy. Huh? - Casey?

You're a writer. Write me a beautiful suicide note.

For Paul Sloane? Oh, ho-ho.

Now, now, Paul Sloane does not leave a suicide note.

Paul Sloane will leave...

"My Last Manifesto." Huh?

"My Last..."

You son-of-a-gun, you can write!

Thank you.

Ah, now...

"Artists of the world

in the age of the Zorgases."

Great! Go man, go!

"We are...

no longer permitted...

to live for art."

Yeah, yeah.

"I, therefore..."

Undertake the...

ultimate rebellion...

"to die for art."

Oh, Case.

Oh, it's beautiful.

That's the best suicide note I ever had.

Here.

- Sign it. - Okay.

- Aw, Case, I can't. - Huh?

You wrote it, you deserve the credit.

Oh.

No.

You are the one who is committing suicide.

I forgot.

You dropped the pencil.

Here... here, PM... I'll get it.

Uh, I will get it.

Here, little pencil.

Case, it's so darned good it makes me want to jump.

Jump.

Oh, pencil. Where are you?

Jump.

Oh, my God!

What do you think that was, Fanny?

Ah, somebody threw some garbage into our boat.

Paul?

Paul...

Paul, you idiot!

Paul, I can't swim!

Drunk overboard! Help! Help!

Here, over here.

- Easy, easy. - No.

I gotcha.

You're alright.

- Stop-s'to‘rfilggling.

Will ya...

Hold on. Will ya... What's the matter?

Oh!

Sounds like whatever fell on, fell off.

I go look.

- Hold on. OW-ow-ow! - Shoo!

My finger, you...

Calm... calm down.

Let go! Hold on.

No!

What are you doing? Help!

Cesari. Cesari!

Stop!

The garbage they threw is people.

Those kids, they are getting worse every day.

His?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Now, you keep her warm.

I'll go and make her some nice hot soup.

Poor little cabbage.

What's your story, poor little cabbage?

Nobody love ya?

- Who are you? - Paul Sloane.

How do you feel?

Like some punched me with a big fist.

Oh, that was, uh, self-defense.

I'm sorry.

Why did you jump in?

Because you jumped in.

What will you do with me now?

Do with you?

Well, I'd... if you were any smaller

I'd have to throw you back.

But instead you want to take me to your house and...

take care of me. Yes?

Why? No, I... I wasn't planning to.

- You're married? - No.

Engaged?

Well, yeah, very.

That's always the way.

Everybody's always taken. Oh!

- Hey, don't do that. - Why can't I do that?

Well, because you had...

Do it if you want to, I don't care.

Hey, you! Take this.

Monsieur? Monsieur!

Could I please have my clothes back?

- Hmm? - Don't give them back.

I...

What, uh, are you planning on doing when you leave here?

- Why do you care? - Well, I...

For one thing, I'd like to think that I didn't

get this cold for nothing.

What do you expect from me, gratitude?

Look, Nikki, I don't know what your story is.

You think I am cuckoo-girl, don't you?

Well, uh, yeah, I think anybody who did what you did is

I'd say a cuckoo-girl.

Well, maybe it was the only way.

There's always some other way.

Believe me, I... I tried.

What'd you try?

Everything, I...

That's none of your business.

You shouldn't have interfered!

You are a rude man!

Where are you going? Ow! Ow!

Come back here! I'm not finished with you yet.

Why you give back the clothes?

I'm sorry.

Nikki, wait a minute.

Nikki, I wanna talk to you.

Listen.

Now, look, you. Besides, a moccasin and my health

I've lost my airplane ticket to America.

That ticket was worth more money than I made

as an artist in my entire life.

But I would hate to think it's worth more money

than you think a human life is worth.

Well, I didn't ask you to.

I just happen to think that a miserable life

is better than no life.

You think life is so good?

Compared to death, it... it's a party.

- How do you know that? - Well...

The same as I know that, well, dancing and laughing

and loving is more fun than sleeping.

So is eating. I'm gonna get some breakfast.

What are they looking for?

Him.

What a tragedy.

Monsieur Barnett?

His?

His.

Courage.

Paul, I want to tell you

why I jumped into the river.

Honey, you don't have to do that.

Well, you see, I tried everything.

I tried to bite and to kick

and I tried to reason with him, but...

Wait, ho... hold... wait. Who are you talking about?

Well, my boss. He was driving me home from work

and then he tried to...

Well, you know what.

And so I got out of his car and jumped right into the river.

- Well, I mean, you mean, he... - Of course.

- They all want to bother me. - Is that true?

I don't want you to think of me as a cuckoo-girl. Please?

Why didn't you tell me this before?

Well, I guess I liked that you worried about me and that you...

and that you didn't...

Uh... uh, try to bother you, huh?

You believe me?

How about some breakfast?

- Yes, please. - Fine. What'II you have?

- You. - I'm not on the menu.

Then I have a roll.

Please, Mr. Casey, eat a little chicken soup.

You'll feel better.

No, thank you, Mrs. Fromkis.

Chicken soup won't help.

It wouldn't hurt.

Oh, it's, it's all my fault.

All my rotten fault.

It's not your fault. Here, eat some soup.

It is too.

The suicide my was my idea.

What? Give me back my chicken soup!

This goes to Strasbourg.

Why do I have to go back home?

Well, you tried Paris and all it offered were its bridges.

Excuse me.

Bless you. I... I am sorry about your cold.

We”, believe me, it's the nicest cold I ever caught.

Bless you again.

So, I... I won't see you again, huh?

Well, um, Nikki, I... I doubt it. I've...

As soon as I get enough money, I gotta get back to the States.

And that girl?

And that girl.

Good luck, Nikki.

Just remember, there's a lotta nice guys in the world.

I know. And I hope I'll find one.

You will.

Well, so long, Nikki.

Driver, I wonder if you'd keep an eye on that young girl.

I would, whether you pay me or not.

- What? - Oh, What?

Oh, my God!

Paul. Paul, What is it?

When are you leaving for Paris?

As soon as you get on the bus.

Paul! I will come to Paris again.

I will get a job there.

Monsieur, are you coming to Paris or not?

Uh... uh, just a second.

Just a second, I gotta... Oh! Sorry. Here.

If you need a job, these are the people you can trust.

- Ah! - Excuse me.

Paul!

Paul!

Wait!

Paul! Wait!

Paul!

"Coco La Fontaine."

Well, if Paul trusts you...

I'll trust you.

All I said to you was, could I have

some of your friend's paintings?

Zorgus, you're not going to salve your conscience

by hanging a couple of Paul's paintings in your cruddy shop!

Please. Please, Mr. Barnett.

I am even willing to pay you for them.

- Pay, Why? - Yes, why?

Because in a small way, a very small way

I feel I am to blame for what happened.

You're not thinking that because Paul is gone...

you might be able to sell some?

- I never thought of that. - I'm sure you haven't.

- You vulture! - Oh...

Mr. Barnett, I am prepared to offer you

one hundred francs for each painting.

Zorgus, you disgust me!

Go on, take 'em. Get out of here!

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Paul, you son of a gun.

You did send me some after all.

Hold it, driver.

He must be peddlin' stolen masterpieces.

Allons. Allons.

Oh! Oh, boy.

What's that?

- Looks like a leak. - A new roof.

Put on right after the World War.

Which war, one or two?

He'll give me an ulcer.

Did I leave the water running?

Ca... Casey, come back in here.

Casey? Casey!

Paul. Paul?

The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.

That's... Mark Twain said that.

Mark Twain? You... you didn't speak with...

Oh, close your mouth, sit down,

I'll tell you all about it.

Don't let anybody leave! I'll be right back.

Yes, boss.

Well, where is this, uh, Nikki now?

She's in Strasbourg with her aunt.

Safe from guys like you.

That must be Fromkis. Uh, d... don't you leave.

You're gonna give the old man a heart attack.

Oh, Zorgus. What do you want?

- More paintings. - What for?

Uh, I might be able to sell them.

Oh! I always thought you said he was a bum!

A live bum, they don't sell. A dead bum is different.

- You mercenary... - Ah-ah!

For each original Paul Sloane,

I will give you 500 francs.

I'm sorry, Zorgus, no deal.

- Are you nuts? - Who is that?

Uh, that's another art dealer.

You open your mouth once more and you will die.

He says he'll go to, uh, 900 francs.

- One thousand. - Twelve fifty.

Fifteen hundred.

Seventeen-fifty!

Two thousand, that's my last word.

Sold for two thousand francs a painting.

- Sorry, sir. - It's alright.

Here's one and, uh, there's some over there.

Don't forget the one's up above the door there.

Please, please, Monsieur, Madame.

One at a time. One at a time.

Sold! Prince, wrap them up.

I'll take me a set of 'em Sloane's. And here's 10,000.

Throw me in one of them naked angels and keep the change, boy.

Prince, give me a naked angel for this gentleman.

Thank you very much, sir.

Uh, pardon me ladies and gentlemen, I'll be right back.

Are you sure that's all he painted?

Well, he shipped most of his stuff

back to this fiance in the States.

Could you, uh, possibly perhaps...

Well, I don't know.

This batch will be just a little bit more expensive.

Well, you know the crating and the shipping and the handling...

Get the paintings. We'll work it out.

Stay dead. Stay dead.

Boy, that's easy enough for you to say.

Paul, those art lovers were clawing to buy your paintings

like shoppers at a January white sale.

Yeah, because they think I'm dead.

Well, what's the difference why they buy?

Your paintings are going to be viewed and enjoyed by people.

Isn't that what you wanted?

The only reason they are buying is because

of "My Last Manifesto," which you wrote.

And for which I will accept a 50-50 split.

I figured you would.

Oh, Paul, Paul, I'm gonna make you famous.

You stay dead for two months and keep painting.

And when we're finished, Pablo Picasso

will be just another name.

Man, we will put on the wildest

one man show ever.

We'll run it for a month and on the last day

who walks in?

Dick Tracy and arrests us all.

Oh, Paul Sloane, a figure out of the grave.

And what am I suppose to tell 'em?

Amnesia. You hit your head on a passing barge.

And you've been floating around France ever since.

You are out of your nut!

Paul, would you rather be a live failure

or a dead millionaire, hmm?

- What about Laurie? - Well, what about her?

We'll write to her and explain the whole thing in a month.

Y... you said she was understanding.

Boy, I don't know.

Oh, Paul, you would know if you saw

those people clamoring to buy your paintings.

Paul, why do you fight me?

Because I don't wanna be dead.

It'll be like a vacation. You'll love it.

Oh, if I don't love it, may I come back to life?

Only when I say so.

Paul, now you have got to trust me.

I... I'm an idiot? Right?

- I'm an idiot. - You.

There, how do you like that?

Oh! I'm gonna look like a lit match.

By the time I'm through with you

only your hairdresser will know for sure.

Yeah.

"Police continue to drag river for body of young artist."

Well, let 'em keep draggin'. The more publicity, the better.

Aw, Case, is this really necessary?

You just remember our arrangement.

You paint, I think.

Well, if I'm gonna move to a hideout

why do I have to have a disguise?

Paul, your face is as well-known as Napoleon's.

About the hideout,

livin' in Coco's is a rotten idea.

Why, how can I paint in a place like that?

A place like that was good enough for Toulouse-Lautrec.

Hiding at Coco's is a great idea.

Yeah, yeah, maybe.

Now, all I have to do is convince Coco.

Of course, I expect to pay for his keep.

Say, uh, 25 francs a day?

Twenty-five francs a day?

Well, I always have been a sucker for arty things.

Ladies, we've got ourselves a new boy.

I'll go outside and get him.

- You mean he's here? - Bag and baggage.

Is that him?

Yeah, yeah, that's him.

Fifty francs a day.

Come on in.

We”, come on in.

Ah, Toulouse, this is, uh, Madame Coco La Fontaine.

And, uh, the ladies are the Madame's, uh...

ethnic dancers.

- What's he going to do here? - Paint.

Toulouse.

- Toulouse. - Who?

Toulouse! I have to leave you now.

Where are you going?

I have to take care of a... a detail.

Uh, now the madame will show you to your room.

You behave yourself.

Oh, we'll see to that!

Follow me, Mr. Lautrec.

I have a room with a view on the third floor.

In here.

I'll have the girl bring you your sheets.

Oh, brother.

Uh...

Hmph.

Mm-hm! Beautiful.

Just beautiful.

Oh, fine. Just what I need.

Nice and damp.

I don't think I'm gonna enjoy being dead.

'Course I'd really die.

Which is just entirely possible.

Come in.

Bonjour.

I'll only be a moment, monsieur.

I have got all the time in the world.

Bless you.

Hm! Thank you.

I... I am sorry, monsieur. I didn't mean to, uh...

You!

Oh, no, monsieur, not... not me.

- It's you! - No, monsieur.

- No. Oh, no, no! - What are you...

- What are you doing here? - Not me! Madame Coco!

Ow!

- Madame Coco! - Hey, come back here. Ooh!

- Madame Coco! - Come back here.

- Madame Coco, help! - Nikki, wait a minute.

- Help! - Nikki! Nikki!

Nikki, it's... Let me in there, it's me.

I'm comin', honey! Hold the fort!

Nikki, let me in there. It's me. What are ya...

That girl. That girl.

Now you stay away from that girl, Toulouse.

- What's she doin' here? - You heard what I said.

You just stay away from her! Did you hear what I said?

Hey! Oh!

- It's Paul Sloane. - Paul Sloane?

But they said he was dead.

Oui! It was in the newspaper.

They lied, honey.

Not a word about this to anybody.

I just raised his rent.

Nikki, what are you doing here?

A little cooking, a little sowing

a little housekeeping and that's all, buster.

Oh, Nikki, ya fool!

I said that's all, buster.

Mr. Casey, telegram for Paul.

Somebody doesn't know.

Oh, no.

- Oh! - Bad news?

Uh, very.

Mademoiselle Laurie Gibson.

Miss Laurie Gibson, will you please

report to the information desk?

I'm Laurie Gibson.

- Oh, boy! - I beg your pardon.

Well, you're Laurie Gibson.

Yes, I know that. Who are you?

Oh, I... I'm Casey Barnett.

Oh! Paul's roommate.

- Whose? - Paul Sloane's.

- Uh. Oh, yes, Paul Sloane. - Why isn't he here to meet me?

Oh, well, Miss Gibson, I...

What is it?

Has anything... has anything happened to him?

Oh, I wonder if we could go some place where it's more quiet.

I have something very painful to tell you.

Paul. Something's happened to him. Tell me.

Miss Gibson, I don't know exactly how to put this.

But, well, Paul and I went out and we got drunk and...

T-W-A, Flight 8-0-3

to New York will be delayed 15 minutes.

Oh, no! Oh!

Boy! What if it was delayed an hour?

Oh! Paul.

Paul. Paul.

Oh, Nikki, Nikki.

I meant for you to work in a nice Jewish delicatessen.

Oh! Not a sleazy night club.

Why did you take a job here?

Well, this was the place on the card you gave me,

and madame is very nice.

And I couldn't find you anywhere and...

So, I thought you might visit here sometimes and I waited.

Nikki, I want you to leave here.

Oh, no, you help me and now I can help you.

First, we get you all well and then

we tell the police that you're not dead.

No. Oh!

No, uh, I told you, I have to stay dead for a while.

You live here dead?

I have to paint while I'm here.

And people will buy these paintings?

For a lot of money.

Do they buy because you're good or because you're dead?

Look, uh, what difference does that make?

- Will you do me a favor? - Anything, Paul.

Will you take that life of yours I thought

I saved and spend it on somebody else, please?

I have got work to do.

Come in.

I don't want you to think I came for the rent you owe.

- Oh, what did you come for? - For the rent you owe.

But I didn't want you to think it.

I am not running out.

Here, if there's any change, just mail it to the George Cinq.

The George Cinq?

Psshh!

You hear that, Paul?

He's gonna live pretty fancy from your talent.

Goodbye, Mr. From kis.

Not so fast goodbye, Mr. Diner's Club.

The lease it says, you'll leave the room like you got it.

You didn't get it with all this mess.

With the drape on the bed or with the plastic lady.

When you clean the room nice, you'll get the bag.

Oh, come on, Fromkis, I'm a busy man.

My wife and I are a busy man, too.

Well, what am I gonna do with you, Curly?

Goodbye, old bed mate.

- Who's there? - No one.

Monsieur, I saw nothing. Nothing.

I am discreet. Very discreet.

My... my wife tells me I am a mouse,

a little bitty mouse.

What are you talking about?

I quit my job.

I leave Paris! I saw nothing.

Nothing, please! I saw nothing, please, monsieur.

Nothing!

Shee!

Aw, burn, will ya?

Case, you're no good.

How can you make a play for your best friend's girl

just because she's the most delicious

female-type person you've ever met?

That's no reason to knife your buddy in the back.

How can you do such a thing?

You know, it isn't hard.

What are your plans?

I have to go home as soon as possible.

Uh, is that, um... a good idea?

There's no reason for me to stay here.

- Isn't there? - Oh, what possible reason?

Well, I... I don't know how to say this.

It may just prolong your pain, but...

What is it, Casey?

Well, you know they, they haven't found...

his body yet.

His body?

- Yeah. Yeah, the body. - Oh!

Oh, Laurie, I... I know it's cruel to raise your hopes.

Raise my hopes?

Well, it's just possible that when he jumped

he might have, uh, hit his head on a passing barge

and he may be just wandering around

a victim of amnesia.

Casey, you're not just saying this.

Laurie, Laurie, I'm... I'm not a religious man.

But something in here keeps saying.

"Paul is alive. Paul is alive."

Oh, if only I thought it were possible.

As long as this little spark of faith smolders,

I must fan it.

Will you help me... fan it?

Oh, yes. Yes.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Oh, doggone...

Oh!

Say, I am gonna catch pneumonia.

Man, oh, man.

I wonder what my partner's doin' tonight.

You can't do enough for some people.

I don't know what's the matter with me.

He's probably walkin' around the boulevard

spendin' the money.

And me catchin' pneumonia and starvin' to death.

Oh, boy!

He's out makin' money and I'm walking around here

like... like Woody the Woodpecker.

Like, that's too much...

Now, Coco La Fontaine!

Paul, what are you doing out of bed?

I'm just lookin' for a cup of hot tea.

- You can't go down there. - Why not?

Because you'll ruin Madame Coco's big number.

Huh?

♪ Alors messieurs ♪

♪ How do you like my Ia Maison ♪

♪ Coco La Fontaine Maison ♪

♪ Votre Maison ♪

♪ La-Ia mai oui bien sur ♪

♪ Anything you say messieurs ♪

♪ If you want their lips ♪

♪ Qu'est-ce que c'est Ies lips ♪

♪ If you want their arms ♪

♪ Qu'est-ce que c'est Ies arms ♪

I If you want their hearts ♪

♪ Qu'est-ce que c'est [es hearts ♪

I You knowqu'est-ce que charms ♪

♪ Ooh Ia-Ia-Ia ♪

♪ Messieurs s'il vous plait ♪

♪ Pas si Vite pas si vite ♪

♪ Oh you have but to say the word ♪

♪ Here is our Chou Chou ♪

♪ Pet-it Chou charmant ♪

♪ And our own couchette ♪

♪ Par Mai vous attend ♪

♪ Margot Yvette ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ Messieurs s'il vous plait ♪

♪ Pas sf Vite pas sf Vite ♪

♪ Oh you have but to say ♪

♪ Ce que vous voulez ♪

♪ Anything you want I

♪ C'est si bon Ie love I

♪ Pourquoi pas Ie love ♪

♪ Oh-h-h-h ♪

♪ You have but to say the word I

♪ Pas sf viteJ' ♪

Well, what did you think of our Chou Chou, Mr. De Winter?

- Isn't she somethin'? - Uh, yes. But what?

And now, Madame du Pompadour.

Premature senility.

This is not doin' my fever any good.

I'm gonna get a cup of hot tea.

Pepe, we're previewing a spectacular

new show on Thursday.

Too bad. I'm getting a manicure on Thursday.

Well, if your nails are dry by Friday, drop in.

Monsieur Pepe.

S'il vous plait?

Merci, mon petit Cherie.

Mon plaisir, monsieur.

Will you perhaps be dancing Thursday?

Oh, no, monsieur, I do not dance. I sew.

Oh-ho, with a... with a figure like yours?

But I'm a very good seamstress.

I make Madame Pompadour's underwear.

Oh. Did you now?

I made this, too.

Lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely.

And... and look at the stitches.

All handmade and... and very delicate, no?

Oh, yes, very, very delicate. Delicate.

Excuse me.

Uh, I... I wonder, mademoiselle...

- Nikki. - Oh, Nikki.

I am Pepe. I live with my mother in a chateau in Switzerland.

She's very old.

I wonder if this weekend, you would not accompany me

to our chateau and perhaps, put up a few hems for her?

Oh, boy. That's a new one.

Do you think I should go?

You... No!

I'm forbidden. He's my lover.

Your lover?

May I congratulate you on your infinite compassion?

Thank you.

Uh, another time, perhaps?

Perhaps.

Nikki.

Oui, madame.

You stay away from Monsieur deWinter.

But why?

Well, because you're a sweet young thing

and he's a dirty old man.

I'm saving you for a church wedding.

Do you understand?

Oui, madame. I understand.

Paul, you must love me, yes?

Hey, how'd you arrive at that?

Oh, because you paint all the other girls.

But you never painted me.

- Why? - You just don't inspire me.

Unh-uh. Because you're afraid you will look at me too long.

And you're afraid you will say...

you will say, "Nikki, I love you."

Nikki, will you please leave me alone? I'm busy.

So, you are afraid. You are afraid.

I... I'm not afraid.

Look, Nikki, I'm in love with a rich, sexy, beautiful

American girl, who I'm gonna marry

as soon as I recover from my amnesia.

Even though you love me?

Nikki, please, will you leave me alone?

I dare you, paint me.

Alright, I'll paint ya.

Shall I undress?

No! No.

Paul,

so you do love me.

And you do respect me too, don't you?

Nikki, 1... Oh, Nikki.

- Ready? - Casey, I don't know...

If I can go through with this.

We owe it to Paul.

Do you really think there's a chance we'll find him?

Well, frankly, I don't know.

But... if he is searching for his identity

well, he may return to some of his old haunts.

If he does, I wanna be there.

So do I.

Was that his... his table?

Yes, it was.

I can't believe he's gone.

Our apartment will seem like a morgue

without that crazy American.

Uh, where else did he, uh, spend his time?

Are you sure this isn't too painful for you?

Oh, no. No.

Uh, did he come here often?

Oh, he practically lived here.

Oh, I hear the baby.

Excusez-moi, messieurs.

Mama is coming, little Paulo.

Did she call the baby "Little Paulo?"

Oh, did she? I thought... I thought she said, uh, Pablo.

Isn't Pablo Spanish for Paul?

Oh, it... it may be.

But I... I'm sure

she must've meant, uh, uh, Pablum.

Yes, she meant she was getting the Pablum for the baby.

Thank you.

Laurie.

Laurie, I have a little story to tell you and I...

After I've finished, I... hope you won't hate me.

Hate you?

Well, Laurie, after I first started rooming with Paul, well,

he described you to me.

And I was so impressed that...

that I decided I had to know more about you.

Then one night, I did a shameful thing.

I stole one of your letters to Paul and I read it.

In it, I found the soul

of the woman I'd been searching for.

A woman who had promised herself to my best friend.

I... I know you're going to despise me,

but I read all of your passionate letters.

I pretended they were meant for me.

I... I never wrote passionate letters.

Oh, no, it wasn't the words. It was the feeling.

I tingled every time I'd read simple things like,

"Hello, darling. How are you?"

"What's new?"

Oh, Casey, I...

No... no, no. There's more.

And this is the ugliest part of all.

May God forgive me for what I'm about to say.

But if Paul has amnesia, I hope he never regains his memory.

You must hate me.

No, Casey, I don't hate you.

You don't suppose that you could ever...

Ever what?

Oh, Laurie, I love you and I'm going to do everything

in my power to make you love me.

I'm glad.

Pardon me.

- What? - No, no.

Please, monsieur. No, no, no.

I saw nothing.

I'm a mouse. A petit mouse. No, please.

I leave Paris for good. This day, for good.

I am a mouse. Please! Ah!

What's the matter with him?

Well, I... I don't know.

He... he thinks he's a mouse.

Everyone's making money out of Pablo but us.

Hello? I want the ad to read...

"Visit Paul Sloane's shrine

at Madame Coco La Fontaine."

Madame Coco La Fontaine.

Yes, th... that's right. The nightclub.

Yes. Uh... uh, "Tourists welcome."

Run the ad for one week.

A little extra revenue for our pension fund.

I'm not trying to tell you your business,

but you gentlemen have had plenty of time to find the body.

If there is a body.

Well, when a person commits suicide,

isn't there usually a body?

There is always.

- So, where is... - The body?

The body.

Perhaps there is no body

because there was no suicide.

No suicide?

No suicide.

Of course!

What do you see there?

Mm, lavender... green...

Little specks of heliotrope.

What else?

Well, um, pupil...

large lashes...

tear duct.

"Tear duct?" But I don't need that.

Since I've modeled for you, I've never used it.

You're a very, very good model.

So, why not marry me? Then I could take my clothes off.

Please, Nikki, I'm trying to do your mouth.

Oh. Sorry.

- Paul? - Hm?

- Give me an engagement ring. - Why?

Well, then you could at least paint me in my slip.

You are a nut.

Oh.

Alright, Picasso, break it up.

Here, put your make up on.

Look, ma'am, I happen to be painting.

And I happen to be exhibiting.

Now, paste your wig on before the tourists get here.

You invited tourists in here?

Tourists love to visit shrines. This studio is a shrine.

We're... we're payin' for this studio.

Not enough.

Say, that's illegal.

Everything's illegal, or fattening.

Now paste your wig on, Pablo.

Your worshipers are on their way.

We'll see about that.

Ow...

What are you doing?

Dead painters don't have wet paint.

Mr. Casey Barnett, please.

Par ici, madames et messieurs. Par ici.

Right this way, folks.

Yeah, folks, right this way.

Come up and see the room that he lived and worked in.

It'll tear your hearts out.

Oui. Casey Barnett.

Oh, pardon!

Excusez-moi.

If I lived here, I don't think

I'd get too much work done.

Alright.

Case? Casey, it's me. You've got to get me out of here.

Do you know what that fool landlord...

Upstairs, Ducky, for Paul Sloane's room.

Get lost, Toulouse. You'll louse up the act.

Laurie. What's she doin' here?

Of all...

And now, uh, madames et messieurs,

if you will follow me, we'll visit his other studio

just above the delicatessen.

Huh?

Alright, alright, don't push.

Beautiful, no?

Yes.

They're all of me.

Oh?

So they are.

You, uh, you live here?

Mm-hmm. I am... I mean, I was his favorite.

Favorite what?

Favorite everything.

Did he... did he love you?

Oh, yes.

That is why he never painted me in the nude.

He didn't want anyone else to see me that way.

I see.

He had such respect for me.

Respect for you?

- Paul, you heard? - Oh, I heard.

Now, look, you're not my girl,

or my date, or even a kissing friend.

And I don't want you goin' around

tellin' people that ya are.

But I only told that one lady.

That was one too many.

Who else did you tell?

Nobody. Just... just her and Pepe.

Pep... Why... why would you tell Pepe a thing like that?

Because he wanted to bother me. And I didn't want him to.

- Therefore. - I... Well, you...

Slap him.

Look, I'm engaged to be married and not to you.

Is that clear?

Why didn't you tell me Laurie was in Paris?

Why, this is the first I've heard of it.

Did she see you?

- No. - Oh, good.

What do you mean good?

Well, I mean it's good that she,

uh, didn't see you in that red wig.

She might've thought you cracked up.

Casey, I've got to see her.

See her?

She just came from your shrine.

You're dead, remember?

Besides, if you just pop up

out of nowhere, who knows how she'll react.

Casey, are you tellin' me everything?

I mean, you didn't know Laurie was in Paris?

Paul, why would I lie to you?

- Casey, I'm coming over there. - No, no, no. Uh, trust me.

If you come over here, you'll blow the whole thing.

- Hi. - Hi.

Uh, Laurie.

Laurie, uh, suppose Paul were still alive

would you still be doing this?

Right in front of him.

Does... does that mean you don't love Paul anymore?

I don't know why I ever thought I did.

Casey, it's you I love.

Yeah, yeah. Me, too.

Yeah, me too.

Follow him when he leaves.

What did you say? I couldn't hear you.

A good detective sees and hears everything.

I said, follow him.

Zorgus? He's not going anywhere.

- Not Zorgus. Him. - Oh.

What, that bungler.

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?

Oh, just browsing.

Interesting painting. Whose is it?

Paul Sloane. A great artist.

Paul Sloane? Oh, yes.

The one who committed suicide.

- Cigarette? - Why, thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

Yes, Sloane's manager

just sold me all his last works.

- His manager? - Yes, yes. Uh, Casey Barnett.

They were roommates.

Ah-ha. Thank you.

Sorry. Thank you.

- Hi there. - Paul.

What are you doing here?

I've had it, buddy. The masquerade is over.

Oh, Paul, if you'll just be patient

a little while longer, we'll all be rich.

Yeah, so you've been telling me. So far, I haven't seen a penny.

You... Well, there... There's expenses.

Yeah, you know something? I noticed that.

Casey, I am turning in my wig. I'm going to Laurie.

I'm gonna tell her the whole story

and get her to a Justice of the Peace

before it's too late.

Well, it's already too late.

What did you just mumble?

I... Laurie's in love. Uh...

Keep mumbling.

Uh, with someone else.

I... I told her

to try to control herself,

but she just couldn't stop.

And, well, th... these things happen, Paul.

Uh, y... you understand, don't you?

- Oh, yeah, I understand. - Yeah.

I hope you understand

that I've got to hit you with this until you die.

Oh, come on, Paul! Put that down.

Paul, calm yourself. Now, Paul...

Oh, I'll try. I'll feel terrible in the morning.

But I've got to kill you, Casey. You are no good!

Who is it?

Inspector Carnot of the police. Open up.

I will, I will, immediately.

When he leaves, I'm gonna kill you.

Open up.

'Open up!'

I'm coming!

Oh, come in, inspector. I am happy to see you, sir.

Oh! Are you?

Yes, sir.

I suppose you wonder what brings me here.

Well, I... I imagine it's about Paul Sloane.

Yes, it is.

There are annoying little discrepancies

in this suicide case.

Oh? Like What?

Like, uh...

there was no suicide.

No suicide?

Well, you don't think that son-of-a-gun faked it all?

No.

I think that son-of-a-gun...

was murdered...

by you.

Hmm? Murdered by me?

- Why... - An amusing theory, no?

- You think that I... - Yes!

And I intend to prove it.

I warn you not to try to leave Paris. Au revoir.

Oh, no... I can't... Don't leave.

I'll come back Casey: No, come back here.

Only when I'm ready to arrest you.

Uh, Paul, Paul now I know you... You're a little angry.

- Yeah, I... I was angry, Case. - Was?

Was. You know, I don't know in the darkness of that closet,

I saw things, you know, differently.

Oh, what things?

Well, uh, Laurie.

I mean, if Laurie really loved me,

you couldn't have taken her away from me, could ya?

That... that's right.

- You... you really mean that? - Oh, I do.

But, I hope you're serious about her, Case, because if you're...

Oh... oh, I am! I swear I am.

Yeah, I believe you.

Now, if I stay dead for the time you ask,

is our big one man show gonna be everything you promised?

Yes, it'll be a smash!

But you must stay hidden till after the show.

Carnot's already suspicious about your suicide.

Is he?

Well, I'd better get back to Coco's then, huh?

Yeah.

- Well, Case... - Huh?

I'm sorry I scared you.

Aw!

Huh! Eddie, look at that one.

Another nut.

The first step to the stairway to the guillotine.

Darling, you're so jumpy lately.

Oh, I'm not jumpy. I'm... I'm anxious.

I'm anxious to get married.

Anxious or nervous?

Anxious. Believe me.

Mmm.

I do believe you.

Hello.

Hello, Case?

Oh, uh... yeah, one moment.

Uh, honey, do you mind? It's business.

- Oh. - I'll see you in a half hour.

Hm.

- I'll miss you. - Yeah, me too.

Hello, Paul. That was Zorgus.

And what is it?

Oh, uh, Case, I found

a couple more original Sloanes.

Would you like to drop by and pick 'em up?

Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll be right over.

Hey, hand me that knife there, will ya?

Uh, just cut the cord, I hurt my thumb.

There we are.

Now, listen don't let that rat fink cheat us.

Oh, don't you worry. I'm Iookin' out for us.

I'm sure you are. Uh, Case, just a second.

You've got some red paint on your coat here.

Oh, yeah? Where? I can't see any...

Oh, you must've brushed against

the palette or something.

Gee, I seem to be making it worse here.

Oh, I'm sorry... Case, I'll pay to have it cleaned, okay?

Clean it?

That's a Paul Sloane original.

I'll sell it.

That's good. Uh, watch your head there.

Ooh, boy!

Bonjour. Bonjour.

Ugh, comme ca va?

Cleo! Cle...

Here, Cleo.

Cleo.

Ah, well, here's a pretty girl.

Ah, pretty, pretty, pretty Cleo.

Ah, tres Jolie, Cleo.

Tres Jolie, little Cleo. I...

Ow! Doggone.

Sit.

This is gonna hurt you a lot more, than it does me.

Hm.

Huh, just tuck it between your legs. Nobody'II notice.

Hey! Hey... hey!

Oh, sorry fellows!

Gentlemen...

I believe our stairway to the guillotine is completed.

- Coming with me? - No.

No, I don't think I could stand to see his paintings.

Oh, I understand.

Keep your motor running.

Yours too.

Mr. Barnett is here. The ceremony can begin.

Will you let him through, please?

Messieurs et madames, ladies and gentlemen,

will you permit me to present to you

a man who both knew and loved Paul Sloane.

His manager, his roommate,

his friend, Mr. Casey Barnett.

Friends, patrons,

I was privileged to be chosen to share with this,

this genius the last year of his all too short life.

It grieves me that he is not with us

to see people of taste and intelligence

bid for his humble works.

Friends, behind this curtain...

hangs the final testament to his great genius.

I give you, Paul Sloane!

And I give you the murderer of Paul Sloane. Casey Barnett.

- J 'accuse! - Me?

You are under arrest. You, Zorgus, are also under arrest.

- Me? What for? - For being an accomplice.

- Oh, no, no. He did it alone. - What?

Nobody falsely accuses Zorgus of being a murderer.

I shall personally sue the government of France

for one billion francs!

- I hope you collect. - He collected from Hungary.

And they only accused him of being a Nazi.

Confiscate all the paintings.

Inspector.

Franz, what is it?

They have arrested your fiance

for the murder of your other fiance.

- What? - I didn't kill him.

Oh, Laurie, I didn't kill him. I...

Laurie, Laurie, Laurie!

Sir, shall I cancel the bridal suite?

Laurie! I tell you there's been a terrible...

I am telling the truth. The whole thing is a joke.

Murder is not a joke.

He's alive and living at Madam Coco's.

So you've said. We will check it.

I think he's been seeing too many

Peter Sellers' movies lately.

So... tell us the story of your joke.

I have told you we were both drunk.

Paul Sloane here? I resent that.

I run a nightclub, not a mortuary.

What about those paintings over there?

Those paintings paid for his admission here.

The poor devil loved our dancing girls.

So do I. So do I.

Well, it's almost time for Madame Pompadour's act.

Carise, take the gentlemen out front

and see that they get a good table, huh?

Oui, madame.

Are you not going to tell him Paul is alive?

Don't worry, somebody'll tell.

Come on, girls. On stage, on stage.

Paul. Paul?

Are the police gone?

Yes. Why don't you go after them?

I can't. I'm dead. My friend murdered me.

But it's the other way around. You murdered him, look.

Oh, this is so sweet.

The guillotine is not so sweet.

Revenge is sweet. Ah, so sweet!

You're disgusting.

I'm disgusting? What about you?

Going around with that dirty old man, Pepe?

Well, he's not so old and he's not so dirty.

Oh, Paul, why don't you go to the police?

And miss the trial?

So, you won't speak up?

Maybe. When I feel that rat has sweated enough.

And when will that be?

When that blade is hangin' right over his head.

Womp!

You do believe my story, don't you?

It is very inventive, brilliant.

It is not inventive. It is not brilliant. It's true.

Good, good. Your attitude is good.

Try to maintain that attitude during the trial.

Ha! I hope you can remember all the imaginative little details.

But they're not imaginative. They... they... they happened.

And you must insist they did. Just as you are doing now.

But they did happen. You've got to believe me.

I'm innocent. Innocent!

Good, good, good. The hysterics are good.

But I warn you, in the courtroom, don't touch anybody.

Don't touch. "I'm innocent, you've got to believe me!"

Good, good. Might impress the jury.

Just remember, try to sound sincere.

But I am sincere! Uh, Paul Sloane is alive!

And he's living in a nightclub.

And he's running around Paris

wearing a blue wig and red glasses!

- A blue wig and red glasses? - Yes.

No. No, insanity is too hard to fake.

You stick with sincerity.

But I... I am innocent! And I am innocent!

Good, good. Sincerity is better.

You...

He's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive!

Excuse us, please. Sorry.

He's alive. I know, he's...

Shh.

Don't touch, don't touch.

Hasn't he sweated enough yet?

Oh, no. Not yet.

Murder. Murder!

Pre-meditated murder,

committed by a malevolent villain

whose motive, opportunities and method

should be as clear to you as it is to the prosecution.

That's what he said, Mr. Prosecutor.

"It's my fault he committed suicide," unquote.

He was so upset, he couldn't even eat my chicken soup.

A... and then, w... with my saw...

he cut off his legs,

and stuffed him into the furnace.

Guillotine.

Ha-ha, guillotine. Ha-ha.

Shame on you.

And where were these teeth found?

In the furnace.

I burned a mannequin in that furnace.

A mannequin with teeth?

This one, we found in the woods, where the murder occurred.

And this one, we found in the river

where it had been thrown to make it look like suicide.

I object!

It is for your counsel to object.

Oh, he never objects to anything.

I'm innocent, innocent, innocent!

Good. Sounds sincere.

The handwriting in this suicide note...

is the defendant's.

I examined Mr. Sloane for a pre-marital versement.

And the stains in this jacket

are of a type similar to that of Mr. Sloane.

No.

The blood on this knife

is identical

to the blood on this jacket.

No.

The fingerprints on this knife

belong to the defendant.

No!

Guillotine.

How much money would you say you paid for Mr. Sloane's paintings?

Over 100,000 francs.

And who did you pay this money to?

To him, to Casey Barnett.

That's right. That's right.

Shut up!

Fink!

Did the defendant

propose marriage to you?

Yes. Yes, he did.

Did you accept him?

Yes.

Did he know you were engaged to Paul Sloane?

Of course.

Casey was Paul's best friend.

How well had Mr. Barnett

known you before he proposed?

Very well.

I thought you had only recently met.

Y... yes, but he had read some letters I had written to Paul,

and he told me he was desperately in love with me.

And that he'd do anything to...

No. No, I... I didn't mean it that way. I didn't mean that!

You don't understand. I didn't mean that!

Isn't that enough? Are you not satisfied?

Not quite.

Get up, get up.

The court will now retire and consider its decision.

The accused will come forward.

Don't touch. Just go.

Casey Barnett, the court finds you guilty of...

Stop! Stop! Stop! You just can't...

You cannot. Paul Sloane lives.

- He's not dead! He's not dead. - Don't listen to her!

You can't convict that man.

He didn't commit any murder. Paul Sloane lives.

If this is some sort of grotesque joke...

But it is no joke. I promise.

I... I'll show him to you.

This is Paul... this is Paul Sloane in disguise. See?

But it is Paul Sloane.

His glue must be hard or something and...

Remove that woman!

This is not... No, it's not!

Not my Paul Sloane!

The guillotine! The guillotine! The guillotine!

Order!

Order!

Where was I?

Casey Barnett, the court find you...

Casey Barnett,

the court finds you guilty of murder.

No. No! No! I'm innocent.

I condemn you to die by the guillotine

one week from today at 6:30 in the morning.

I didn't kill my friend. I didn't kill him.

- I love him like a brother. - Very good. Very sincere.

- Why don't they believe me? - Don't touch. Don't touch!

Please, please. Believe me. I...

Please don't, don't leave me here. Help me! Help me!

Don't touch. Don't touch. Hold it.

But you've got to stop it now.

Please, Paul, you've got to stop it!

I've told you, when the blade hangs over his head

I'll save his miserable life and...

not one moment before.

Oh, you!

Oh, me-merci beaucoup. Merci.

- Why did she do that? - Uh...

Because I won't marry her.

Guillotine today.

Are you ready now?

I'm never ready.

You know I'm against capital punishments. Hm.

Please. You're not on your soapbox now.

A year from now, I get my pension.

And... and then I will fight the whole barbaric system.

Driver, can you go a little bit faster?

Not for to go to a guillotine.

No. Sorry. This is how fast I go.

Oh, but what you don't understand

is I have to get there on time.

Disgusting. What are you, a reporter?

No. No. You... you see, my friend's gonna be executed.

- Your friend? - Yes!

Your friend!

What is it? Driver, I haven't got much...

- Have we got a flat? - What kind of a man are you?

What's the matter?

Going to see your friend loose his head?

- You ghoul. You nut! - Ooh!

Dracula! Malicious! I don't know what...

You idiot, I'm... I'm the guy he killed.

Hey, wait! H... hey, come back!

You're nuts! Come back here!

Don't leave me!

Where am I?

-Oh!

Help! Help, help!

Please call for help! Help.

Help, somebody!

Hello, folks. I'm alive.

Help! Some...

Somebody help!

Hey! I'm Paul Sloane.

Let me in! Somebody call the police!

Hi! Hey, it's me, Paul Sloane.

Get on the telephone and call the police.

You've gotta understand. Get on the phone and call...

Are you out of your mind?

Thanks for what?

Guillotine.

Good morning.

I am innocent.

Hey. Hey.

Come on, Toulouse. Get in. Hurry!

Nikki's goin' over with that dirty old man

to his dirty old chateau.

Cigarette?

Ah, cigarette.

Thank you. You should really get one of these.

They cut down on the tar and guillo... nicotine.

We”, even if you don't love her, you should save her

from that creep, you owe her that much.

Driver, hurry up!

She's packing to leave on her honeymoon.

Driver, can't you go any faster?

The honeymoon? Are they already married?

- No, but Pepe is very liberal. - Oh, that little fool.

Driver, how far is it to the prison?

You mean you haven't taken care of that yet?

No! And if he doesn't step on it, I might never get to.

If I don't turn around, you may not.

What? Turn around. I... we're goin' the wrong way!

- What are ya... - We gotta go back!

Oh, you shut up! Just get me another cab.

Oh, my God!

Oh, look out!

No, no, no. May I have another cigarette?

I'm afraid not.

Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Guillotine.

Cheers.

Oh, no.

What?

Oh. Whoo!

Whoo!

Do you have a final word?

Help!

Hey!

Paul!

Laurie! Laurie!

They... they're going to, uh, execute her lover today.

Don't say that. Just get to the prison, and fast!

Laurie?

- Ready? - Down with capital punishment.

Stop! Don't! Don't kill him!

Don't kill him! I'm Paul Sloane! He's my friend!

Stop! I'm Paul Sloane!

- I'm his friend! - Oh, Paul! Paul!

- Laurie! - Casey!

Laurie! Laurie!

Oh, watch her! Watch her! Don't let her faint!

Laurie...

Amnesia. I had... I had amnesia.

What was that you said about amnesia?

I forget.

What is your philosophy of life?

Uh, don't die.

She never kissed me like that.

Come on, driver. Let's go. I've got another life to save.

She... she never kissed me like that.

Come on, hurry up! Get inside!

Nikki!

- Where you goin'? - Nikki!

Oh!

Aw, cheer up, Monsieur De Winter.

I'll go with you and put up your mother's hems.

My mother has already put up her hems.

Then we'll take 'em down and put 'em up again.

That ought to knock off one day.

Paul, do you want to marry me,

or do you want to bother me?

Both, and in that order.

I don't understand you, Paul.

Before we were married, you'd never let me pose this way.

That's right.

But aren't you afraid that now others will see me like this?

Don't worry, they won't.

Oh, you.

Then why did you have me pose this way?