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( theme music playing )
you may wonder why i am stuffing a string
of freshly cooked sausages down my trousers.
there is, of course,
a simple explanation for all this.
the idiot british airmen were hidden in barrels
in the wine cellar at the chateau
and the plan was to float them out to sea
in the underground stream,
which runs beneath the cellar.
needless to say, the stupid airmen
floated down the wrong passage
and they are now stuck in the drain
in the middle of the town square.
we cannot--
we cannot open the rusty grating to get them out,
so michelle has instructed me to feed the airmen
by standing over the drain and lowering the sausages
down my trouser leg.
as usual, my wife edith has over-catered.
( growling ) oh, rene,
we are alone at last. hold me in your arms.
both: oh!
be careful, yvette,
some of these sausages are still very hot.
i can feel the heat through my dress.
( both giggle )
here i have the mustard for the british airmen.
i will tie the string to your belt
and slip the pot down your other leg.
oh. oh. oh.
rene!
what is that serving girl doing to you?
you stupid woman.
can you not see, this poor child is examining--
trying to-- you tell her.
i am making sure
rene has the mustard in his trousers.
what?!
it is for the airmen.
i will do that.
here, you get in the kitchen
and peel the potatoes.
but i have already peeled them.
well, peel them again!
here, rene, let me help you.
i can manage, edith, thank you.
you have cooked too many sausages.
there is barely room for them in my trousers.
ah, michelle, have you found a way
of getting rid of the airmen yet?
listen very carefully,
i shall say this only once.
monsieur alphonse is examining the grating
to see if it can be forced up.
the airmen are trapped on a ledge
next to the overflow pipe from this cafe.
so under no circumstances should anyone
- flush the toilet. - ( toilet flushes )
i must remember to tell mamma and monsieur leclerc.
let us hope the airmen have not been washed away.
on the contrary, let us hope they have!
are the bangers in your pants?
all present and piping hot.
michelle, what about drink?
the garlic in the sausage
will make the airmen thirsty.
my resistance girls are adapting
madame fanny's wheelchair.
they are putting a tank of soup underneath it with a tap.
when monsieur leclerc takes madame fanny
for her morning stroll in the wheelchair,
he will stop over the drain, open the tap,
and let the airmen drink the soup.
oh, madame edith,
something terrible has happened.
madame fanny has gone.
gone? what do you mean?
she and monsieur leclerc had a row last night.
he found this note on the pillow when he woke up.
he is distraught.
oh--
mamma has gone to stay with her cousin in avignon,
the one who runs the kennels.
well, she should feel at home there.
did monsieur leclerc say what the row was about?
apparently, she was complaining
about his demands for conjugal rights.
was he making many?
no, that is what she was complaining about.
this is bad news.
if madame fanny has gone, that puts paid to my plan
for giving the airmen the soup.
someone will have to take her place.
i will do it. i can turn myself into the old woman.
( witchlike voice ) ah, edith.
no, mimi, you are much too small.
madame edith, you will have to do it.
how could i make myself look old and wrinkled?
wear one of your hats...
and try a little less make-up.
oh, you must, madame edith. the lives of the airmen may depend on it,
and you are an artiste.
very well, i will do it.
i will wear one of mamma's dresses
and put on her old sun hat.
i will suck in my cheeks to make myself look toothless,
and hunch my shoulders to make me look
old and arthritic.
i never realized she was that old.
( imitating mamma ) the germans,
i spit on them.
( spitting )
now stop wasting time,
and go upstairs to get ready,
you silly old bat.
rene, how dare you speak to me like that!
i am sorry, edith, but you were so realistic
i am already thinking of you as my mother-in-law.
good moaning.
oh, good morning, monsieur.
what are you deeing crotching on all fears
in the middle of the squeer?
i am checking these rusty hinges
to see if we can get the british airmen out.
of course, the earmen.
we must roscue them as soon as pissable.
hmm?
there is little hope of that, i am afraid.
the hinges are rusted solid.
that is bad nose indood.
i must inform michelle.
she has secreted herself in the cafe.
i say, chaps, can you hear me?
- hello! - hello!
crabtree: keep your chins up, chaps.
are you all right?
well, uh...
it pongs a bit down here.
is someone doing something?
crabtree: don't worry,
the undertaker's taking care of everything.
i say, i don't like the sound of that.
must dash, chaps.
jerry on horizon.
good moaning.
nice doo.
i don't like it much down here.
i know, old boy.
still, it does have its compensations.
ah, monsieur alphonse, have you made any progress?
the drain cover will not move.
it has not been opened for years.
but that is dreadful. what are we to do?
i could perhaps loosen the hinges with a hammer,
but i cannot go out into the square
and start banging in broad daylight.
yes, that might arouse suspicion.
could you not park your hearse
over the drain and work underneath it?
do not be ridiculous, michelle.
the germans would still hear him banging.
an idea has just entered my brain.
we could perhaps use your old ice cream wagon?
the one i keep in my garage?
the noise of the ice making machinery
would disguise our activities underneath.
oh, that is a good idea!
the germans would not suspect an ice cream van.
but it has been laid up since it broke down in 1934.
the engine might need a little tinkering
but the freezer still works.
i occasionally use it for storing bodies.
your waitresses could serve the ice cream,
and you, rene, you can drive the van.
oh no, no, no. i am playing no part in this crackpot idea.
listen,
if those airmen are found in the drain,
they may crack under interrogation
and reveal who has been sheltering them.
and the finger...
will point at you, monsieur.
well, as usual,
i do not seem to have much choice.
well, i will go for a tinker.
and i will go and feed the airmen.
you are walking very strangely, monsieur.
if you had down your trousers
what i have down mine,
you would walk strangely.
big head!
i say, carstairs,
that cafe chappie's up there
dropping something down his trousers!
it's sausages, fairfax.
thank god for that.
good morning, rene.
i'm sorry i made you jump.
good morning, lieutenant gruber.
i was just taking the air.
my stomach is a little fragile this morning.
oh, dear lieutenant, i hope it's nothing serious.
i think it was the cottage pie i had in the cafe last night.
are you all right, rene?
you appear to have a twitch in your leg.
oh, it is nothing.
just a slight muscle strain from carrying heavy crates
up from the cellar.
perhaps someone should look at it?
no, that is not necessary,
but thank you for your concern.
rene--
rene, is it my imagination
or is there a sausage
popping out of the end of your trousers?
no, no you are seeing correctly.
these sausages were past their eat-by date
so i was disposing them to safeguard our customers.
that is most commendable.
and how typical of you.
oh.
but would it not be simpler just to...
pop them in the dustbin?
we do not want anybody to suffer from food poisoning.
we put the worst food from the cafe
straight down here.
in that case, rene,
may i make a suggestion?
of course, lieutenant.
perhaps next time
you could do the same
with madame edith's cottage pie?
so, von smallhausen, are you ready
to commence the forging of a copy of the fallen madonna
with the big boobies by van clomp,
which we so audaciously stole from the chateau
behind general von klinkerhoffen's back
under his very nose?
yes, herr flick. i will do my best.
i have carefully traced around the painting
to make it easier for you.
the code for the colors is here.
it is a great help, herr flick.
number one is for red,
two for blue, three for green
and four for a pinky flesh color.
that is a large pot, herr flick.
it is for her boobies,
which occupy much of the painting.
and what shall we do about this forgery?
i will plant it in the office of colonel von strohm.
an anonymous telephone call
will inform general von klinkerhoffen where it is,
the colonel will be accused of stealing it
and be sent to the russian front
where he will no longer be a pain in the bum.
it is a very risky plan, herr flick.
do not worry, von smallhausen.
if anything goes wrong, you will carry the can.
i shall be proud to be a cog in the wheel, herr flick.
a very small cog. i am a big cog.
now get on with the forging.
i am going to take helga these flowers.
if you do a really good job,
i may let helga give you a kiss.
the thought has made my hand shake, herr flick.
take a tranquilizer, von smallhausen.
i do not want a nipple on her nose.
the paper clips and stationery
are in the top drawer.
if you can't find anything, private bigstern,
just ask lieutenant gruber.
he's very helpful.
he seemed a nice fellow when you introduced me
to him and the colonel.
handsome, too--
quite tickled my fancy.
he's never tickled mine.
- good morning, helga. - good morning, general.
is this a new member of staff?
i am off on my training course,
private bigstern is taking my place.
no one can possibly take your place, helga.
although on second thoughts,
i could be wrong.
i will be taking over
all of private geerhart's duties, general.
in that case, i might have some overtime
for you one evening this week.
it will be a pleasure, general.
that is what i hope.
i will miss helga, you know.
but that new girl, she has a lot going for her.
already she's given me the wink.
don't start getting ideas, bertorelli.
she gave me the wink also.
she winked at me, too. i can't think why.
general von klinkerhoffen!
we shall have to get cheese for our ears, gruber.
this new girl is worse than helga.
heil hitler!
now, colonel,
i wish to know what progress you have made in the search
for the miscreants who stole the painting
of the fallen madonna with the big boobies by van clomp,
from my headquarters in the chateau?
gruber, tell the general
what progress we're making.
uh... well...
of course, after you...
announced the curfew,
we carried out a house-to-house search,
and rounded up all the usual suspects.
we are also stopping and searching
everyone leaving the village.
in other words, you've made no progress at all.
no, general.
but we're trying very hard.
my men, they are working round the clock,
sometimes two or three hours a day.
if i do not see some results soon,
the chances of you all being sent
to the russian front will improve considerably.
whoops.
particularly yours. is that clear?
yes, general!
heil hitler.
heil hitler.
heil mussolini.
don't be silly.
the generali-- i don't think he likes me.
nobody likes you.
if your men were more efficient,
we might have found the painting by now.
after all, they are criminals.
they ought to know where to look.
why is it always me
who gets the blame for all the cock-ups?
we have to blame someone.
and you're the only itai we know.
who are you? i am looking for helga.
she has gone on a course.
i'm her replacement.
i am herr flick, head of the nouvion gestapo,
godson of heinrich himmler,
scourge of the resistance,
and a bit of a one for the girls.
you may have heard of me?
no.
i had come here
to ask helga out this afternoon,
but you look a fine specimen.
you will do just as well. what do you say?
well, i am a new girl here.
i think i'd better ask permission first.
permission to speak, colonel?
what is it, private bigstern?
there is someone outside calling himself herr flick.
he has asked me out.
is it wise for me to accept?
herr flick?!
oh, no, elsa,
he's a particularly nasty character.
he's a horrible, little worm.
you come out with me instead.
what a mistake to make.
wait a minute!
this could be our opportunity
to put a spy in flick's camp,
now that helga's no longer intimate with him.
that is an idea, colonel.
he also may know something
about the theft of the painting.
private bigstern,
you will accept herr flick's invitation,
become close to him, and report everything
he says and does to us.
particularly if he has a painting in his quarters.
of a girl with big boobies.
they might not seem big to you, but they are to us.
i will do my best. heil hitler!
she's new... keen,
pity she's a girl.
very well, herr flick. i accept your invitation.
good.
report to my secret headquarters this afternoon.
what is the address?
here is my card.
it is blank.
breathe on it for 30 seconds
and the words will appear.
you are a lucky man, herr flick.
i'm very popular in the mess,
and do not usually go out
with balding little men in glasses.
i beg your pardon?
you may kiss me now.
i'll see you later, herr flick.
much later.
i must do some press-ups first.
hallo, chaps.
- hallo. - hallo.
i've just been talking to the cafe chappie.
he's wheeling out his old mother-in-law in a minute,
with some homemade soup.
she'll pour it down the grate for you.
how are we supposed to drink it?
you'll just have to improvise.
we can't get the mugs through the bars.
why don't we use our boots, carstairs?
good idea.
damn, both of mine have got holes in them.
oh, you can have one of mine if you like.
i think i'd rather use my cap, old boy.
you know what you have to do, monsieur leclerc?
yes, yes.
i am to wheel the chair over the drain,
and turn on the tap. i am not stupid.
we know you are not, monsieur leclerc.
first impressions can be deceptive.
oooh, rene,
i can feel the soup boiling in the tank underneath me.
i think the primus is too high.
release some of the pressure with the steam valve.
( steam spurting )
there's a lot of garlic in that soup.
good moaning.
good moaning.
i have told the earmen to expect the soap.
i thought we were giving them soup?
he means soup.
i wish you would learn to speak proper french.
your mither-in-loo is not looking very well.
she is more wronkled and higgard than usual.
it is me, officer crabtree.
my mother is not here, so i am taking her place.
it is a good disgeese.
off you go, and get it right.
it is a simple enough task,
any fool could do it.
but you were top of the list.
the old lady in the wheelchair is coming this way.
jolly good. get ready for soup.
this is the drain, madame edith.
turn on the tap then, monsieur leclerc.
oh my god, what is that idiot doing?
he is putting the soap down the wring droon!
can they get nothing right?
fairfax: the soup's coming down the wrong drain.
quick, fairfax, before it runs out.
what are you doing, you idiots?
go back to the cafe, i will take over.
edith: what is wrong, rene?
you were over the wrong drain, you silly old bat.
rene, how dare you speak to me like that!
i'm sorry, edith, but you're more like your mother,
than your mother.
damn blighters have gone.
that's jolly unfair. i was dying for a drink.
look! it's coming down the other one now.
blasted froggies, can't get anything right.
i am sorry too, rene,
i did not notice it was the wrong drain.
now it is the right one.
i say, carstairs,
i didn't get any.
- ( knocking ) - who is it?
private elsa bigstern!
let her in, von smallhausen.
it is my new date. helga is away.
i was expecting you.
i wasn't.
this is von smallhausen, my assistant.
would you like me to kiss him?
that will not be necessary.
let's not be hasty, herr flick.
go to your cupboard, von smallhausen.
would you like a drink?
the tap water here is excellent.
you do not have to beat about the bush with me, herr flick.
remove your glasses!
i am not accustomed to being given orders.
i believe a woman should always be dominant in a relationship.
i have different views.
but without my glasses,
it not easy to express them.
take off your tie.
i do not strip on first dates.
then i will do it for you.
von smallhausen, help.
you're on your own, herr flick.
i'm locking myself in my cupboard.
this is a very wobbly van, rene.
everything is very wobbly.
this ice cream will curdle.
let us hope we can get the job done
before it affects anything else.
where is monsieur alphonse?
oh, my dicky ticker.
i don't think i can stand it in here for too long.
oh my god,
monsieur alphonse has got overheated.
will you pass me a frozen drink on a stick?
that's better.
thank you, mademoiselle.
are you sure you are up to this?
oh, of course, monsieur.
i have here my big--
hammer
and chisel,
which i use for engraving gravestones.
i shall drop down through the trap door beneath the van,
and under the clatter of the engines,
i shall bang out the rusty bolts.
be careful, monsieur alphonse.
there are germans everywhere.
i will do my best,
but i am not as young as i was.
i shall only be able to bang
for short periods.
this i can believe.
i will attach a hook to the cover of the drain,
and use the auxiliary motor,
which powers the ice cream pump,
to raise up the grating.
to-- excusez-moi.
this could be a long job.
i think i'll have a lolly while we are waiting.
thank you,
the day is warmer than i thought.
this lovely warm weather
has put me in an excellent mood.
bring us three glasses of iced champagne.
of course, colonel.
that is most generous of you, colonel.
put it on bertorelli's account.
not on your nelly.
you pay for your drinks,
i pay for mine.
( honking )
ah, so,
this is how you spend your time--
idling away the hours when you should be out
searching high and low for my missing painting.
glad to see you, general.
we were just holding a meeting to discuss
how to tighten up security in the village.
well, you can begin by explaining to me
what that ice cream van is doing in the middle of the square.
it looks as if it belongs to rene,
who runs the cafe, general.
who gave permission?
did you give permission, gruber?
no.
- did you, bertorelli? - no.
well, i didn't.
that is most lax of you, colonel.
we cannot have unauthorized ice cream vans
parked in the square.
what if a convoy wanted to come through?
summon the owner at once.
gruber, attract rene's attention.
yoo-hoo, rene!
can we have a word?
oh my god, the lieutenant is waving to me.
i will try to keep the germans away from here.
coming, lieutenant.
alphonse: yvette, mimi!
where is rene?
he has had to go to lieutenant gruber at the cafe.
good afternoon, general,
colonel, lieutenant, captain.
i hope everything is all right.
we did not give you
permission to sell ice cream, rene.
i am sorry, colonel.
i thought that as i had a license to run a cafe,
this was was merely a small extension of the business.
we did not mean to break any rules.
military regulations strictly prohibit
the sale of any foodstuffs without a permit.
i assure you, general,
the ice cream is as tasty as any of the food
we serve in the cafe.
that's not saying much.
only the italians can make the ice cream.
that's all you're fit for.
where did you get the petrol?
it is rationed and for military use only.
it does not use petrol, general.
we are actually running it on furniture polish.
pfft, you still did not seek permission.
oh, please, general.
the weather is so warm,
we thought your men might like
some ice cream when they were off duty.
how thoughtful of you.
it really is very good ice cream, general.
i am not a monster who would forbid the sale of ice cream.
if it is so good, perhaps we should try some.
no-- problem, general.
oh my god, the germans are coming this way.
we must warn monsieur alphonse.
do not fear, messieurs.
the winch will have you out in a jiffy.
what did he say, carstairs?
no idea, old boy.
don't speak a word of the language.
monsieur alphonse,
the germans, the germans!
i'm almost finished.
do not be in such a hurry.
this is a very noisy engine.
the ice making machinery
is on its last legs, i am afraid.
well, what shall we have?
cornets all around?
after you, general.
yvette, an ice cream for general von klinkerhoffen.
yes, of course.
make it the biggest one you have.
have you anything to say?
would you like a wafer with it?
( theme music playing )
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