LA GRANDE BOUFFE
Are you taking the preserves too?
I have to take a gift.
And you're also taking...
your recipes and your knives.
Your poor father bought you the best German knives.
And at 14, you left Carpugnino-
With your knives! You've told us all that.
But what I don't see is...
what you plan to do with your damned knives this weekend.
And do you have lemon dishwashing products?
Yes, there's that too.
Lemon freshness, nature's own cleaner.
Did you remember rubber gloves?
The new kind.
More sensitive.
For housework...
gloves are important.
Flexibility and toughness.
Flexibility, not to lose the feel of the object.
Toughness...
for doing the work.
That makes exactly four weeks of taped shows.
I can leave in peace. God, what a feeling!
But then what?
Then the project I told you about.
Right now I need rest and solitude.
What's wrong? Take it easy.
TV isn't your life. Think about your life.
I think I'd better. I'll try yoga.
Before I go, I'll do a good deed- give my daughter a gift.
I've been waiting 45 minutes.
When one decides to get away-
Where are you going? Why did you ask me to come?
To see you before I leave.
If I wait to hear from you-
- Seen your mother? How is she? - I guess she's fine.
- I take it you don't see her much? - Oh, that paternal authority.
I'm going.
A series of news reports.
Would you like to use the apartment?
No hell-raising.
Watch out for the neighbors- all old fools.
Fuck paternal authority.
What else?
I'd like you to find him a job before you go.
He's a great dancer. I want you to get him work.
No more shuttle, and the bus has gone.
There they are. Careful. It's heavy.
You can roll it.
10:00.
Wake up.
That work still isn't finished.
Give me a number where I can reach you...
in an emergency.
Why must I always tell you where I go?
I have to know.
Your slippers.
God, give me patience.
The court having deliberated...
and, in accordance with the evidence, convicted-
If my colleagues could see me.
They take me for a serious man!
For the last time, where are you going?
But I've told you...
to a legal conference in London.
That's not true. You're a liar.
Let's not fight, especially today.
Why particularly today?
Don't worry.
I've arranged for you to have a power of attorney at the bank.
Understand?
What are you talking about?
No, not that.
You're responsible to your parents, poor dears.
But I won't be involved in all this! The picture stays here.
I've given my life for what?
To not know where you're going!
I understand.
You're going to the whores again.
- Give me the picture. - Never!
You're crazy.
Don't do it. Don't go there.
Think of your career!
Promise me you won't do it.
I'll sacrifice myself, as I always have.
We can keep it in the family.
Nicole, do you know what you're saying?
Who rocked you in her arms? Who suckled you?
I've got to go.
You always rape me, and-
Do you think whores can take my place?
No, Philippe.
Eating alone, eh?
It's a house my father bought...
just after World War I, from a Polish engineer...
to give to my mother.
But she'd never live here.
Lend me your hat?
She found it too frivolous...
so we stayed at the apartment in Paris.
There's old Hector...
my father's old chauffeur.
How old is he?
I can't say, but I've always known him.
Now he lives here alone...
with the dog.
This is Ugo.
This is old Catherine.
I think you will be pleased. I spared no expense.
Everything is of the finest quality.
Can we go in now?
Tell your friends the dog is very mean.
Watch out for the dog. He's not always nice.
- How are you, Hector? - Fine, Mr. Philippe.
- Where are you going? - Upstairs.
Who is that, Hector?
A man from the Chinese Embassy. He has a gift.
Excuse me. I'll see to my guests and be right with you.
I have plenty of time.
Exploring, Captain?
It's a stroke of luck...
your finding me here!
I rarely come to this house...
though it's mine, or was my father's.
Excuse me, sir. Mr. President, I've got to see the kitchen.
- There's work to be done. - Please sit down. I'll be right back.
Hector, let's see the wonders you've wrought in the kitchen.
Taste this!
- Blood pudding? - No, thank you.
Is the wind still from your place?
Where's the cheese?
Nobody for blood pudding?
Marcello, our friends want you.
Sir, allow me to offer you a little welcoming snack.
We are gathered for a gastronomic seminar.
Allow me to present a small gift.
It is a character...
from our theater called "The Red Lantern."
It's really superb!
"Beware of Greeks bearing gifts."
They want you.
I'll take the Chinese room.
I'm terribly sorry to have to decline...
your gracious offer.
The car keys. I left my suitcase.
Can I taste?
The small one.
I understand your refusal perfectly.
If an aura of sentiment does not cling to a house...
if the least of its walls is not steeped in family tradition...
then the idea of a home is an empty one.
A fierce, wild boar...
ready for all the subtlest marinades.
That's good meat.
Two superb soft-eyed deer, the flesh redolent...
of the Couves forest.
Is it frozen?
So what? I'm all for progress when necessary.
That's good meat.
Ten dozen semi-wild guinea hens...
fed on grain and juniper.
Our friends want you.
Nice sweater.
Beautiful car, eh?
You know, Bugatti had his shoes made to order...
like gloves, with a separate big toe.
- To drive? - No, for every day.
There was an artist!
Look. What magnificence.
Three dozen young Ardennes roosters.
- What's going on? - Twenty dozen Bresse chickens.
Codfish. Oh, wow, does it stink!
A hindquarter of beef...
from the rich pastures of Charolais.
You'll see how much fun it is to cut up.
Five young salt-marsh lambs from Mont St. Michel.
A good cook could make...
a good surgeon!
Always clowning, while we do the work.
Don't be vulgar, Ugo.
The feast begins.
That's good meat.
I always did that as a child.
Do you remember, Hector?
He's asleep.
You can go now. Time for bed.
Thanks for everything.
Still know how to drive?
I still have my license.
Take the car back.
Don't say a thing to Nicole.
There's so much to do to put this kitchen in order.
Can we sing?
Remember, not a word to Nicole.
Looks like Michelangelo's Pietà.
I'm sure it's intentional.
A trifle blasphemous.
Marcello, ready to race?
Fifteen seconds.
I lose.
The expression of a whole era.
I'm a sex maniac.
You're getting hot over a funeral.
We're not getting hot. It's a collection I made as a boy...
which is both sentimental and artistic.
Now this is life. Look.
Let's see.
What artistic lighting.
What a splendid drawing.
A Gallé drawing, 1890.
Beautiful.
Open this, please.
Which dessert?
Preserves or Crêpes Suzette?
I'll have Crêpes Suzette.
Gentlemen, we're not here for a vulgar orgy.
We can't just sit here forever.
We must clear up this dining room.
"Off to work we go."
No, no oranges today.
Tomorrow for breakfast.
We have to skim the fat from the bouillon.
We have to feed these turkeys...
chocolate, nuts and cognac.
It gives an exquisite taste.
So? What do we do?
Are you my assistant or not?
Then wash your hands. Did you pee?
What an idiot.
- What time is it? - 6:30.
When I was a kitchen boy at the Charlton Ceneto...
know what time I got up?
4:00.
Here's the stock.
The dough.
- What's that? - Conical strainer.
We're going to strain...
the stock.
Oh, very good.
Stock in the kitchen is my stock in trade.
Hello, Marcello. Up already?
I didn't sleep.
You're all set up!
I like my chimney-nook.
It's my little world.
A real homebody.
Sorry, but...
I can't stay on under these conditions.
What's wrong? You don't like the house?
The change of atmosphere?
In my job, I get used to sleeping anywhere...
but I need to get laid.
Sure, we're shutting ourselves in here.
But we didn't take a vow of chastity!
Patience. We'll talk about it later.
For now, let's think about breakfast, okay?
A nice hot chocolate...
around 11:00...
whets the appetite for dinner.
Who wrote that?
Brillat-Savarin.
What have we here?
Kidneys Bourguignon.
It's for me.
Shit! That's typical.
A beautiful theme.
Very sexual.
Actually, inviting girls...
is a good idea.
I like women too.
I just think that on this occasion...
we could have done without.
I'm no party pooper.
You should do a special menu.
"A dinner offered by...
four Burgundian gentlemen...
to three nice Canterbury whores!"
Ah, so they're whores, eh?
What did you expect?
I've got a great menu idea.
"The Whore Menu"!
A sauté of fat and lean given by four gourmand gourmets, epicures...
for three young ladies in twelve courses.
That's it.
Crayfish à la Mozart on a bed of rice à la Sully, with Sauce Aurora.
Not bad.
Can we see Boileau's linden tree?
The one in the garden?
Who sent you?
The teacher.
She wants to see Boileau's linden tree?
Well, now, you tell her to come whenever she wants.
Are you an Arab?
No. Don't worry. I'm not an Arab.
Listen, children.
Do you see this tree? It's a linden tree.
Mr. Boileau used to come sit under it. Who knows who he was?
No, you don't.
Boileau was a great French poet.
He was born in 1636 and died in 1711.
He wrote beautiful things. He loved nature.
And so he came here to rest and wrote poems.
"Hasten then softly, and never lose heart.
Twenty times on the loom, keep on weaving your art."
Understand what it means?
Mr. Bugatti was an artist...
like a painter or a musician.
This car is his art.
Do you like cars?
Want some?
Sir, are you the chef?
At your service. Eat, eat.
- Smells good. - Yes, it's stuffing for the pullets.
We're doing another stuffing for the suckling pigs.
Know what they'll do with the fish?
Eat them!
My mean friends want to eat them all.
For the pig, something simple.
With the chestnuts, smoked bacon.
Truffles. Beautiful, eh?
Kidneys Bordelaise.
Smells wonderful, but I'm having chocolate.
Oh, but you've never heard of Roussel.
He was a great writer.
Little known, somewhat surrealist.
He used to roll all three meals into one.
He always began with hot chocolate and cream...
and then something like Kidneys à la Bordelaise.
It's easy to make.
Wonderful!
Well, I have to go now.
Now?
Tonight we're giving a little dinner.
If you'd care to be our guest, we'd be delighted.
I don't think Mlle. Andrea would be comfortable...
with Marcello and Michel's guests.
- Why not? - I'm not sure I can come.
- She's a woman of the world. - Exactly.
I don't know if I'll come.
Marcello, the great pilot!
Pleased to see you. Come this way.
Come on. Come in.
Take off your things.
My friend Ugo.
And you?
- Do you like boas? - What about you?
What a meringue!
- And me? - Chocolate meringue.
That's nice.
- It's a farce. - What's a farce?
The girls arrive, and everyone disappears!
- Predictably. - Predictable to you.
- Oh, listen. - I've had enough!
Since we aren't eating, I'll give it to the fish!
Eat, little fishies! Eat!
Philippe is going crazy.
Hello. My name is Michel.
Very pretty.
Ugo, time to go to the kitchen.
Okay, go to the kitchen.
You don't even look at me, a poor little orphan.
Yes. Let's go to the kitchen.
- You're the third? - Ladies and gentlemen!
In the splendor of her flesh...
Gita!
Oh, you look great like that!
What's the chicken doing in here? In an aquarium?
Isn't that weird?
It's a chicken-fish.
Isn't France wonderful.
You aren't French?
There's my pâté...
charcoal-grilled turkey and the rest.
Do you know how to cook?
No. I'd rather eat.
I don't know who you are, where you're from, but I like you.
I decided to accept.
How nice.
You'll be in very good company.
Come in!
What broke?
The carafe.
Make yourself comfortable.
The house is even stranger at night.
I'll leave you with these ladies.
You might play billiards.
Do you play billiards?
The mirage, the dream has become reality.
A woman is here.
- What woman? - The schoolteacher.
You see? She came!
No. We're getting away from all that!
- Don't be shy. - Getting away from it.
Inviting that poor girl with your whores!
I'm going to bed. I leave you to your debauchery.
She's no whore. She's a woman.
The woman!
Leaving, when I arrive?
No, I was just going to the living room to see how things are.
Oh! Beautiful cake!
Yes. Ugo made it. He's a master pastry chef.
We're all his assistants here.
I was a bit embarrassed to see you arrive just now.
They've invited three other girls that I don't know.
Yes, I saw them. They seem very nice.
Really?
You don't mind dining with them?
No. Why?
Because...
I suspect their morals may be a trifle free...
a trifle loose.
We'll see.
Beautiful. A trifle melancholy. Let us say it's awful!
She finds it awful.
The ideal would be to go on eating like this, indefinitely.
- What do you think? - Yes, it'd be magnificent!
The quail for you, the rooster for me.
I say a woman who likes food-
Likes other things too.
Pirate!
Brigand! Excuse him. He's an airline pilot.
At my command, Ugo!
- Your hand is cold. - I have alabaster skin.
Eat!
Mortadella must be eaten in a sandwich.
Aren't you hungry?
I don't like to eat much.
Worse luck for you.
It looks that way.
It isn't necessary to act like an animal.
Italians abroad.
I drink- I'm not sure to what, but...
I drink.
I've reflected on our morning's talk.
I must say, I admire your pedagogic theories.
Relax a little, for God's sake.
This hair gets in my way!
Are you okay?
You okay, my love?
Loosen your seat belts!
Fasten or loosen them?
Tasted the pullet?
Now on to the pork.
The banderillas!
Marvelous night!
Come in. Close the door!
Take off your panties.
Take off your coat.
Do you like cars?
Oh, yes, I adore them.
What kind is it?
A Bugatti.
- Know what this is? - What's it for?
A manifold.
- Like it? - Very much.
It's cold.
Don't worry. It'll warm up.
Come on. Like this. Are you happy?
Like it hard like that?
Wanting to be Marlon Brando is vanity.
Besides, even Marlon Brando is a kind of epiphenomenon.
- Very good! - "Vanity of vanities."
Ooh, Marlon, come here.
Want some?
It's really good.
I really love it.
My love. Oh, my love!
How I love you.
An old record from my youth.
A very sensual melody, you'll see.
Outside of food, all is epiphemomenal.
Sand, beach, skiing, love, work...
your bed...
epiphenomena.
Ecclesiastes says-
Eat, my girl.
Eat, bitch.
Funny, I've never known a judge.
Meting out justice- How exciting!
It is more a case of applying the law...
which is often quite different.
What a beautiful thing to say.
It's as if we're alone together...
out in the country.
Afraid of me?
No. I'm missing two buttons.
Oh, poor baby!
- If you like, I can sew them on. - You know how?
- That's very nice. - Come, my frightened little judge.
Here, eat this.
I don't know if I'll find the sewing things.
Please, let's take a break and go up and have some fun.
There's plenty of time.
Later. Eat. Eat.
All you do is eat!
Don't worry. I won't prick you.
Luckily, he's found a little homemaker.
The poor baby.
Excuse me.
Excuse me, Mademoiselle.
I mean, Andrea.
Allow me to request...
your hand formally in marriage.
Please.
Get up!
My mother died when I was two, two and a half.
My nurse raised me. That's her.
- Poor Philippe. - Beautiful, eh?
Very beautiful.
A lovely face.
Sorry. They're waiting downstairs.
Don't you know how to knock?
He's so stupid!
Don't worry. We'll soon legitimize our situation.
Ugo, you know my friend. She's marvelously gifted.
I'll introduce you.
On the operating table, the redhead dies.
Woman's body, vanity.
Woman's body is vanity.
Gentlemen, I have an important announcement to make.
Gentlemen, please.
Mlle. Andrea and myself...
have decided to marry.
I'm leaving.
I threw up all night.
Figure out the money with Anna.
Bye, sweetie.
Bye, everybody!
Michel, come to the table, please.
I hate these rustic checkered curtains.
We'll change them. No problem.
So you shut yourselves in here every weekend to eat?
No, just now and then.
You eat this much each time?
This is different.
It'd go down better with salad.
You know, dykes are right.
Men are such a pain in the ass.
What do we have to do to amuse you?
Something else besides eat, eat, eat.
- Play the pipes of Pan? - For example, yes!
A pizza provençale.
All the aroma of the moors.
And the sparkle of your eyes.
You're grotesque and disgusting!
Why do you eat if you're not hungry? It's ridiculous!
Michel is sick. He wants you.
Okay, I'm coming.
Ohhh, I'm sick. I'm sick! Don't be mean, Marcello.
Easy, Marcello.
Marcello, don't be mean.
It's horrible!
When I was little, my mother-
My mother used to punish me terribly.
This is the first time since I've been grown up.
Cut the tragedy. Open up.
Push!
It will relieve the congestion.
Push. Help.
You don't chew enough.
Some well purée.
Good purée. It's the adjective.
- This isn't the moment, Philippe. - Want some?
To absorb the air. Michel, I made it especially for you.
You're wrong, Michel.
You should take a little, you know.
Easy. The platter.
- Care for a little? - Oh, yes, I adore purée.
It isn't bad.
It lacks butter, Ugo.
It's meant to.
- Why? - It's a medicinal purée.
- They'll all croak! - Make an effort, Michel.
It's a matter of will.
Pretend you're a little Indian boy in Bombay...
and you're hungry- very hungry.
If you're very hungry, what do you do? You eat!
Pretending?
Well, then...
eat some more.
Eat some more, my pet.
Eat!
If you don't eat...
you won't die.
You've got to eat.
I thought Philippe would be the first.
The judge.
They're crazy!
Stay cool. Stay cool.
If they want to commit suicide, let them.
Come, Andrea. We're going.
Coming with us?
All four of them are imbeciles...
idiots, mental deficients!
You're wasting your time. Leave too!
No.
I'm staying.
What a tableau! Marvelous!
A Sterlini still-life.
A friend of mine.
A great painter.
I'm not sure the starches are good...
for my gas.
I'm hungry!
This will do you good.
My name!
It was a very delicate idea of Ugo's. Very nice.
It looks good.
I have trouble articulating.
Diabetes.
You know the history of sauces, Michel.
Do you know the story of the Italian sauces...
that were offered as a gift by the Gonzagas?
Don't you want to?
Feeling better?
Courage, Philippe. Everything will be fine.
Just a short spell of fatigue.
Tortellini in cream-and-mushroom sauce!
- I want some more. - Yes. Wait.
You don't mind.
Can I stretch out on your bed a bit?
I don't know what's wrong. I'm shivering.
With Philippe's permission.
Come. I'd like to lie down. I'm cold, sick.
Of course, if it's for your health.
Get comfortable.
No, it's not nice to all get on Marcello's bed.
Pants!
Michel, I'm a woman! Come.
Mustn't get sick.
We must do it- but staying alive.
- Who- Who's cooking? - Sleep, Philippe.
Is anyone in the kitchen?
Michel, it's your fault. You got me excited, dancing.
Here. Touch. Touch. I'm all wet.
See how worked up I am.
Philippe, you've never sent anyone to the guillotine?
That's different.
I saw you sleep with Michel.
That's not important.
I'll marry you even if you sleep with everyone.
I know you're broad-minded.
I have a button that's loose.
Later. Now the turkeys.
Do you want a church wedding?
Whatever you like.
Look, Marcello. She's doing the chopping.
Lady assassin.
I knew it.
Happy?
It's fine, yes.
- And how's your baby? - Please...
don't joke about it.
Feel it? Feel how firm it is?
What do you think of this new communal living?
What communal living?
The bed!
Hey, look. I should ask you that. You've had the fun.
Please, please.
Found the solution?
We have to enjoy ourselves. We've got a long haul.
Shit, it's fantastic.
No, I wanted to-
Come on. I've got a surprise.
Be good. Sleep. Sleep.
Get in.
It's so beautiful.
You're the first to have the honor.
You're very nice, Marcello.
Does it work?
It works!
What a romantic spot!
- Take off your coat. - No, Marcello. I'm naked.
- Take it off! - It's cold.
I thought about you all night long.
- You never look at me. - I do! Come on. Take it off.
Well?
Turn around.
Show me your fanny.
Raise it.
Raise it!
- Think of Philippe. - Philippe. This is love!
I'm different.
It's all the same to me.
I'll marry her anyway.
She does it out of goodness, not vice.
Understand?
Come on. Time to eat.
To the table! Time to eat!
"...with an ornamental platter, toast...
and a bed of caviar...
the border garnished with a bed of olives...
slices of lemon, cedar and sugar.
A sweet course: quartered oranges...
sprinkled with sugar."
Stop. I'm getting sick.
A beautiful recipe.
It's not finished.
- Why are you sulking? - I'm not sulking.
You're very handsome today.
Permit me.
Philippe, be broad-minded.
Big ass man, this Marcello.
Why is there no stuffing in the turkey?
Ugo, why didn't you put in any stuffing? It's stupid. It's sad.
It's sinister like that.
It's dry. Look at it.
It's spiritless.
There are other things. There's purée.
Crèmes- apple, chestnut.
And the stuffing?
Life is stuffing.
Stop eating.
Stop!
Chestnut purée is one of my vices.
A solitary vice, then. I hate it.
On the other hand, I adore stewed apples...
because they're so sweet.
Too bad there are no pears.
You've got to! I've got to do it!
I've done it every night of my life.
I've got to!
Oh, shit!
I've got to do it!
Marcello, it's not my fault.
Not your fault!
You haven't understood! It's impossible to eat yourself to death!
I'm leaving!
Calm down, Marcello. Calm down.
What is it? What's going on, Marcello?
He's right. I am too fat.
No, my little dove.
You're beautiful. You're not fat.
You're soft, you're graceful...
you're light, and you're a great cook.
Yes. She's also sensual.
You're three imbeciles. That's the word that fits you.
You can't eat yourselves to death because you're eunuchs!
Marcello, please. Eunuchs?
If there's a eunuch, it's you. You just proved it!
All three of you!
Stop! This isn't the moment!
He makes trouble! He acts jealous! He plays the imbecile!
There's no fantasy in this story.
You've picked the most disgusting way to die!
Go on. Wash your face. Freshen up.
Freshen up? I don't need to freshen up!
You need to freshen your ideas!
Look at this! What is this?
Oh, shit! Shit!
Marcello, what is it? Are you hurt?
- I'm covered with shit! - Horrors! It's a tidal wave!
My God, how horrible!
Come help me! It's a catastrophe!
It's horrible! It's filthy!
It's appalling! It's monstrous!
Don't leave me alone!
The explosion-
Don't leave me alone like this!
Come on!
It's full of filth!
I'm afraid Ugo's a trifle sick.
Yes, I think so.
Me stay here? You're crazy!
It's snowing.
The wind's blowing.
A snowstorm.
The smell of shit. We'll never be rid of it.
Aren't you sleepy?
Michel, after all the work we've done?
With this stink, who can sleep?
Come on. Let's sleep.
The universal deluge...
Of shit.
Marcello is fighting a plastic monster by his car.
Did you see him? He was afraid to die.
He's gone.
Michel, quiet. The neighbors.
- Philippe, we must bury him. - Out of the question.
"Illegal inhumanization of corpse...
strictly punishable by law."
Article- I forget.
I'm cold.
Is it ready?
Not bad at all.
What are you making?
Professional secret.
A marvelous taste.
Can I taste?
- Didn't you sleep well? - I slept, but I have a headache.
Can I taste?
Your mouth smells of borscht.
Come. I've got an idea.
What? Tell me.
Tart Andrea!
- Fantastic! - See!
Come on.
Press! Press!
You'll see. What a tart!
I'm trying to do some exercises, but...
I'm a little tired.
Did you see? I found some straws...
in the kitchen.
For hot chocolate.
I was an antiaircraft officer.
Have some breakfast. There's a surprise.
A big surprise.
Are we eating this tart or not?
You scared me. I thought it was Marcello.
No, it isn't Marcello.
But he has the pilot's insignia.
Her ass.
Want a piece?
It looks good, but not now. In a bit.
Not eating?
Marcello plays well.
Almost as well as Michel.
We're used to it.
The difficulty is in the rapport between the taste of the wine...
and the moment when each dish is ready.
Each, first, must be steeped in the juices in which it will partly cook.
The final cooking will be done in a brioche pastry.
So let's start.
Sherry for the chicken.
Port for the duck.
And champagne for the goose.
A bit more.
- Eat the brioche. You'll see. - I love brioche in milk.
Yes? Especially for your diabetes.
Why the egg slices?
Because eggs...
according to the Jews...
are the symbol of death.
I could be a millionaire in one month...
making these dishes for people.
But they'll never know...
what they're missing.
We, on the other hand...
and our friends.
I drink to them.
The honor goes to you. You cut it.
Cut that? How?
I can't slice that. It's too bulky!
- It's pure poetry! - Well, it's bulky poetry!
Taste it with the fork.
Just a bit.
How is it?
Shit.
- You're not being sincere. - It's shit poetry.
Andrea, you taste it.
It's good, isn't it?
It's good, but it won't go down.
But we've got to eat!
I'll eat it all myself, and I'll cut it!
It's marvelous!
Marvelous!
I'm going to sleep a bit.
Coming, Andrea?
No, I'll stay here with Ugo.
I'll keep him company.
Goose pâté.
Chicken pâté.
Duck pâté.
Philippe calls this shit!
It's genius!
Come to the kitchen. Ugo's got to stop eating. Come!
Ugo is old enough to know what he's doing.
Come. We'll both tell him.
- I have no influence over him. - Yes, we'll manage.
Stop!
Stop now!
That's enough. Stop.
Or else you'll die.
Shut up, dogs!
Tomorrow, make me another pâté.
And I'll eat it.
All right.
I'm heating you some water, Ugo.
It's good with sugar for digestion.
Listen!
You owe me something.
You know.
Yes.
Oh, that's good.
I leave you...
the tower as a souvenir.
More! More!
He's dead!
Come, Philippe. Let's go to bed.
What do we do with Ugo?
Leave him in the kitchen. It's his domain.
We'll think tomorrow.
You're a glutton, Ugo.
You eat too much.
You always ate too much.
For you.
It's very sweet and very good.
God knows what they think of me.
That's enough, Ugo. Stop.
They must think I've abandoned them.
Here we are...
together, happy.
And they-
Wait here, Philippe. I'll see who it is.
Straight ahead.
There's someone in the house.
- The meat- Where do we put it? - In the garden.
- This is good meat! - Yes, in the garden, over there.
A delivery of meat just arrived.
- Is it nice? - Very nice, Philippe.
Is it stamped "Grade A"?
That's the best.
Because last time...
it wasn't.
Tell your boss...
that last time, the veal was second-rate.
I can't go on.
Is that better?
I'm cold.
Is that okay, miss?
Meat in the garden!