Steve MartinQuotes

Edwina Cutwater: [Thrilled] Oh, Roger! I see what you mean about enjoying life! It's to be savoured!

Roger Cobb: [Seething] I am going to kill you.

Edwina Cutwater: [Hurt] I was just trying to help...

Roger Cobb: You failed! Since you started helping me, in the last twenty-four hours, I've lost my girl, my job, I've alienated my dog! I broke my sunglasses! You can't even get that kind anymore. Stop helping me!!

Edwina Cutwater: You know, you are so ungrateful. If it wasn't for me, you would get that partnership, and then you'd have to take cases like that, and kiss your father's high ideals goodbye. You'd also be married to Peggy; you call that savouring life?

Roger Cobb: Oh, look who's talking!

Edwina Cutwater: I spent my life in a sick bed. What's your excuse?

Roger Cobb: [Fuming] It's just like a dead person to say that.

Edwina Cutwater: I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry if I ruined your birthday.

Roger Cobb: And I'm sorry if I made your being dead an unpleasant experience.

Edwina Cutwater: [Tearfully] Once, my parents hired a clown to entertain me. But he didn't like me! So when my parents were in the room, he'd just sit there, and didn't lift a finger to amuse me!

Roger Cobb: [Appalled] That's a terrible clown.

Edwina Cutwater: Well I don't see why you're getting so upset about all this.

Roger Cobb: Because I want my body back! And I want my freedom and my privacy! And most of all, I'd like to be able to take a leak without being fondled!

Edwina Cutwater: You may find this hard to believe, but fondling you while you make pee-pee is not my idea of a good time.

Roger Cobb: You'll have to do it.

Edwina Cutwater: Do what?

Roger Cobb: You know, take it out.

Edwina Cutwater: Take what out?

Roger Cobb: The little fireman.

Edwina Cutwater: The little fireman?

Roger Cobb: You know, my penis.

Edwina Cutwater: How dare you say penis to a dead person.

Roger Cobb: Listen lady, if you don't give Ed some big air, he's gonna piss all over your half of my body!

Roger Cobb: Miss Cutwater, as your attorney, I must advise you - your will can be challenged if you are deemed to be... not of sound mind.

Edwina Cutwater: Why, you presumptious ambulance chaser. Are you implying that I am not of sound mind?

Roger Cobb: No, I wouldn't do that. But I think everyone else in the solar system might.

Edwina Cutwater: Guess what I'm going to do?

Roger Cobb: What?

Edwina Cutwater: I'm going to come back from the dead.

Roger Cobb: [Patronising] Ohhh. And what makes you think you can do that?

Edwina Cutwater: Because I'm rich.

Roger Cobb: [Regarding the empty church at Edwina's memorial] You really know how to pack them in.

Roger Cobb: [To Edwina] You're like an energy vampire. You suck the life out of people and take the fun out of being a lawyer.

Roger Cobb: [After Edwina has called him a 'peasant'] Look, lady. Just because my grandfather didn't rape the environment and exploit the workers doesn't make me a peasant. And it's not that he didn't want to rape the environment and exploit the workers; I'm sure he did. It's just that as a barber, he didn't have that much opportunity.

Roger Cobb: Is everyone here bananas?

Roger Cobb: [To his dog] Don't look at me like that. I'm not going in there as a messenger boy; I'm a trained legal advisor. No more being looked down on by people who think they're better than I am because they're rich. From now on, I'm gonna be respected... by people who think they're better than I am because they're rich.

Roger Cobb: [To his girlfriend] You bought me a gravestone for my thirty-eighth birthday?!

Michael McCann: When you turn a gift away from your door, it goes to the one who takes it in.

Kit: [with head covered by a paper bag; [w:Laker Girls|Laker Girls; partly opens coat to show his naked body; Laker Girls laugh; scampers off] Hey, ]. It's not funny!

Terry Stricter: You realize all courts in the country would consider this blackmail!

Bobby Bowfinger: I don't know anything about blackmail. I'm just a guy with a great film. I need a shot of Kit saying, "Gotcha, suckers" and a couple of close-ups. Or we'll use a shot of Kit wagging his thing at the Laker Girls. Which is a great ending, though not such a good ending for Kit. It could sort of stop his money flow and possibly make that family film he's about to do, just go, pfft.

Stricter: We'll have to think about it. We'll have to think about it, for Kit.

Bowfinger: Now that you've had time to think about it, what do you and the other fellows here at MindF'ng Head think?

Bobby Bowfinger: [looking at FedEx truck coming into his street] See that FedEx truck? Every day, it delivers important papers to people all around the world. And one day, it is going to stop here, and a man is going to walk up and casually toss a couple of FedExes on my desk. And at that moment, we- and by we, I mean me - will be important.

Davis: I can't make another piece of art that glorifies violence and bloodshed and brutality. I can't contribute another stone to this landslide of dehumanizing rage that has swept across this country like a pestilence.

Davis: That's part of your problem: you haven't seen enough movies. All of life's riddles are answered in the movies.

Davis: While we got a moment here, maybe you can explain something to me I never understood. What is the theory on this handkerchief thing? I mean, after you blow your nose in it, you put it back in your pocket and then you see someone in distress and you like give them this gift from your pocket and they are suppose to be grateful as they wipe it all over their face.

Davis: The point is there's a gulf in this country; an ever-widening abyss between the people who have stuff, and the people who don't have shit. It's like this big hole in the ground, as big as the fucking Grand Canyon, and what's come pouring out is an eruption of rage, and the rage creates violence, and the violence is real, Mack. Nothing's gonna make it go away, until someone changes something, which is not going to happen. And you may not like it, even I may not like it, but I can't pretend it isn't there because that it is a lie, and when art lies, it becomes worthless. So I gotta keep telling the truth, even if it scares the shit out of me, like it scares the shit out of you. Even if it means some motherfucker can blow a big hole in my leg for a watch, and I'm gonna walk with a fucking limp for the rest of my life and call myself lucky.

Davis: There's so much rage going around we're damn lucky we have the movies to help us vent it.

Davis: [describing the plot of "Sullivan's Travels"] It's a story about a guy, he's a filmmaker like me, who loses his way, and forgets what it was he set on earth to do. Fortunately, he finds his way back. It can happen, Mack. Check it out.

Joe Ross: You don't have to do this.

Jimmy Dell: I enjoy doing it, actually. But I appreciate your concern.

Jimmy Dell: Do the American thing.

Joe Ross: What's that?

Jimmy Dell: Marry a rich widow.

Joe Ross: We used to say, a nymphomaniac who owns a liquor store.

Jimmy Dell: I think you'll find that if what you've done for them is as valuable as you say it is, if they are indebted to you morally but not legally, my experience is they will give you nothing, and they will begin to act cruelly toward you.

Joe Ross: Why?

Jimmy Dell: To suppress their guilt.

Jimmy Dell: Good people, bad people, they generally look like what they are.

Jimmy Dell: Always do business as if the person you're doing business with is trying to screw you, because he probably is. And if he's not, you can be pleasantly surprised.

Jimmy Dell: I'm a problem solver, with a heart of gold.

Jimmy Dell: You now have a Swiss bank account if anybody asks. Crédit Nationale Du Génève code name PADDY'. Lavish awkward gesture. All of fifteen Swiss Francs in it, but if you ever want to impress anybody, they can find out you have a Swiss account. But, Swiss law prohibits the bank from revealing the balance. Thus are all men made equal.

Harris K. Telemacher: Forget for this moment the smog and the cars and the restaurant and the skating and remember only this. A kiss may not be the truth, but it is what we wish were true.

Harris K. Telemacher: [calling the restaurant] Hello, L'Idiot? Yes, I'd like to make reservations for two for Friday. Saturday? Sunday? Ah good. Eight-thirty. Five-thirty or ten-thirty? Um, five-thirty. Visa... I'm a weatherman... yes, I'm on TV! Renting... I just sold a condo... yes, in this "soft market"... well, I don't see how that's any of your... the low fifties.

Harris K. Telemacher: I've been thinking about myself and I think I can become the kind of person that's worth you staying for. First of all, I'm a man who can cry. Now it's true, it's usually when I've hurt myself, but it's a start.

Harris K. Telemacher: I could never be a woman, cause I'd just stay home and play with my breasts all day.

Harris K. Telemacher: Sitting there at that moment I thought of something else Shakespeare said. He said, "Hey... life is pretty stupid; with lots of hubbub to keep you busy, but really not amounting to much." Of course I'm paraphrasing: "Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Harris K. Telemacher: Why is it that we don't always recognize the moment when love begins but we always know when it ends?

Harris K. Telemacher: [Admiring a painting; [the painting is revealed to be of a red rectangle] I like the relationships. I mean, each character has his own story. The puppy is a bit too much, but you have to over look things like that in these kinds of paintings. The way he's holding her... it's almost... filthy. I mean, he's about to kiss her and she's pulling away. The way the leg's sort of smashed up against her... Phew... Look how he's painted the blouse sort of translucent. You can just make out her breasts underneath and it's sort of touching him about here. It's really... pretty torrid, don't you think? Then of course you have the onlookers peeking at them from behind the doorway like they're all shocked. They wish. Yeah, I must admit, when I see a painting like this, I get emotionally... erect.

Harris K. Telemacher: Let us just say I was deeply unhappy, but I didn't know it because I was so happy all the time.

Navin R. Johnson: I'm gonna bounce back and when I do I'm gonna buy you a diamond so big it's gonna make you puke!

Marie Johnson: I don't wanna puke!

Navin R. Johnson: Why are you crying? And why are you wearing that old dress?

Marie Johnson: Because I just heard a song on the radio that reminded me of the way we were.

Navin: What was it?

Marie: The Way We Were.

Navin R. Johnson: I had the craziest fantasy that I could rise up and float right down the end of this coronet, right through here, through these valves, right along this tube, to right up against your lips and give you a kiss.

Marie: Why didn't you?

Navin: Well, I didn't want to get spit on me.

Navin R. Johnson: [in Patty the bike rider's trailer; holding Patty's helmet; Patty tosses it on the bed.; Patty throws Navin's corn dog aside and lies on the bed.] What a great place! You know, you can tell so much about a person from the way they live. Just looking around here I can tell you're a genuinely dirty person. What do I do with this? Oh, you keep it there. Where's your garbage?

Patty Bernstein: You know what I'd like to do?

Navin: What?

Patty: Guess your weight.

Navin: Hey, that would be interesting for me. No one has tried to guess my weight! You see, I guess their weight so it's sort of a—

Patty: Put your arms up.

Navin: [Patty gropes his buttocks] This will give me a whole different perspective on this. Hey! You're really trying to be accurate! Is it getting hot in here? Wait a minute! What's happening to my "special purpose"?

Patty: What's your special purpose?

Navin: Well, when I was a kid my mom told me: there goes my special purpose! And someday I'd find out what that special purpose was!

Patty: Today's the day!

Navin: Hey, this is like a ride!

Fairgoer: Hey, honey, let's see how good this guy is. What do I win?

Navin R. Johnson: [gesturing at the prize display] Uh, anything in this general area right in here. Anything below the stereo and on this side of the Bicentennial glasses. Anything between the ashtrays and the thimbles. Anything in this three inches, right in here, in this area that includes the Chiclets but not the erasers.

Fairgoer: No sir. Come on, honey. He thought he had himself a rube.

Navin: Frosty, I'm just no good at this.

Frosty: Ah, come on, Navin. You're doing fine.

Navin: No, I've already given away eight pencils, two hula dolls and an ashtray, and I've only taken in fifteen dollars.

Frosty: Navin, you have taken in fifteen dollars and given away fifty cents worth of crap, which gives us a net profit of fourteen dollars and fifty cents.

Navin: [barking] Ah, it's a profit deal! Heh, takes the pressure off. Get your weight guessed right here! Only a buck! Actual live weight-guessing! Take your chance and win some crap! Step right up!

Stan Fox: Damn these glasses, son.

Navin R. Johnson: [to the glasses] Yes, sir. I damn thee!

Harry Hartounian: Boy, I wish I could get that excited about nothing.

Navin R. Johnson: Nothing? Are you kidding? Page 73: Johnson, Navin R.! I'm somebody now! Millions of people look at this book every day! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity — your name in print — that makes people. I'm in print! Things are going to start happening to me now.

Madman: [thumbing through phone book at home] Johnson, Navin R. Sounds like a typical bastard.

Harry Hartounian: Boy, get to work in there!

Navin R. Johnson: But sir, I don't even work here.

Harry: Not even for a dollar ten an hour?

Mother: And remember: the Lord loves a working man!

Navin R. Johnson: The Lord loves a working man.

Father: And son, don't never ever trust whitey.

Navin: Don't trust whitey. The Lord loves a working man. Don't trust whitey.

Mother: Oh, baby.

Navin: Daddy. Pierre. Come here. Don't you forget to grow up now.

Elvira Johnson: Send me a picture, a picture! And I'll call you later! Don't forget, Navie!

Father: Okay, okay. Let the boy go.

Elvira: Bye.

Father: We got work to do.

Mother: And I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.

Navin: I will, Ma. I know it's out there.

Taj: It's out there all right, and if you catch it see a doctor and get rid of it.

Navin: See a doctor and get rid of it.

Taj: Good luck.

Navin: The Lord loves a working man. Don't trust whitey. See a doctor and get rid of it.

Mother: Navin, it's your birthday, and it's time you knew. You're not our natural-born child.

Navin R. Johnson: You mean I'm going to stay this color?

Mother: I'd love you if you were the color of a baboon's ass.

Navin R. Johnson: [picks up an ashtray; picks up chair; picks up magazine; walking outside; Shithead growls at him] Well, I'm gonna go then, and I don't need any of this! I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you! I don't need anything, except this. An ashtray, and that's the only thing I need, is this! I don't need this or this! Just this ashtray, and this paddle game. The ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need! And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need! And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one— I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches for sure. Well what are you looking at? What do you think I am, some kind of a jerk or something? And this. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair. And I don't need one other thing, except my dog. Well, I don't need my dog.

Navin R. Johnson: Good Lord! I've heard about this: cat juggling!

Navin R. Johnson: [singing] I'm picking out a Thermos for you! / Not an ordinary Thermos for you, / But the extra best Thermos that you can buy, / with vinyl and stripes and a cup built right in! I'm picking out a Thermos for you, / And maybe a barometer too. / And what else can I buy so on me you'll rely? / A rear-end thermometer too!

Navin R. Johnson: Marie, are you awake? Good. You look so beautiful and peaceful, you almost look dead. I'm glad because there is something that has always been very difficult for me to say. I slit the sheet, the sheet I slit, and on the slitted sheet I sit. I've never been relaxed enough around anyone to be able to say that. You give me confidence in myself. I know we've only known each other four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days and the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days and the fifth day you went to see your mother and that seemed just like a day and then you came back and later on the sixth day, in the evening, when we saw each other, that started seeming like two days, so in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into the next day and that started seeming like four days, so at the end of the sixth day on into the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days. And the sixth day seemed like a week and a half. I have it written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it. Anyway, I've decided that tomorrow, when the time is right, I'm going to ask you to marry me, if that's okay with you. Just don't say anything. You've made me very happy.

Navin R. Johnson: First I get my name in the phone book and now I'm on your ass. You know, I'll bet more people see that than the phone book.

Navin R. Johnson: For one dollar I'll guess your weight, your height, or your sex.

Navin R. Johnson: Huh? I am not a bum. I'm a jerk. I once had wealth, power, and the love of a beautiful woman. Now I only have two things: my friends and uh, my thermos. Huh? My story? Okay. It was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child. I remember the days, sittin on the porch with my family, singin and dancin down in Mississippi.

Peter Sanderson: Ashley! Who are you doing here?

Peter Sanderson: You are such an ass... (drinks water) ... set to this company.

George Banks: [''talking about his baby's name''] Franck Banks - has sort of a continental ring to it.

George Banks: What am I supposed to do? Sleep standing up?

George Banks: Mr. Habib, this is not a piece of land. This is my home and I'm going to be a father again and I don't want to bring my baby home to a condo on the beach! I want to drive down that street and I want to pull into this driveway and I want to honk my horn...

George Banks: What are we, the Schmaltz family?

George Banks: Now, going to the movies. That'll be economical: one child, two seniors. Thanks.

George Banks: We could sell this house is a second. It's the Leave It To Beaver house that everybody wants.

George Banks: Well, that's the thing about life, is the surprises, the little things that sneak up on you and grab hold of you.

George Banks: We live in a small town in Southern California called San Marino. I love this town, and not just because it's the kind of place where people still smile at each other but because it hasn't changed much in the past twenty-five years. And since I'm not a guy who's big on change, this town fits me like a glove. I got Annie's ten-speed all cleaned up and polished. New seat, new tires...I couldn't wait to show it to her. This is our house. 24 Maple Drive. Annie was just in grammar school when we bought it. A few years later, we got a surprise package: our son, Matt. I love this house. I love that I taught my kids to ride their bikes in the driveway. I love that I slept with them in tents in the backyard. I love that we carved our initials in the tree out front. This house is warm in the winter, cool in the summer, and looks spectacular with Christmas lights. It's a great house. I never want to move. But the thing I think I like best about this house are the voices I hear when I walk through the door.

George Banks: I used to think a wedding was a simple affair. A boy and girl meet, they fall in love, he buys a ring, she buys a dress, they say "I do." I was wrong. That's getting married. A wedding is an entirely different proposition. I know. I've just been through one. Not my own. My daughter's. Annie Banks-MacKenzie. That's her married name. MacKenzie. I'll be honest with you. When I bought this house seventeen years ago, it cost me less than this blessed event in which Annie Banks became Annie Banks-MacKenzie. I'm told that one day I'll look back on all this with great affection and nostalgia. I hope so. You fathers will understand. You have a little girl. An adorable little girl who looks up to you and adores you in a way you could never imagine. I remember how her little hand used to fit inside mine. How she used to sit in my lap and lean her head against my chest. She said that I was her hero. Then the day comes when she wants to get her ears pierced and she wants you to drop her off a block before the movie theater. Next thing you know she's wearing eye shadow and high heels. From that moment on, you're in a constant state of panic. You worry about her going out with the wrong kind of guys, the kind of guys who only want one thing—and you know exactly what that one thing is because it's the same thing you wanted when you were their age. Then she gets a little older and you quit worrying about her meeting the wrong guy and you worry about her meeting the right guy. And that's the biggest fear of all because then you lose her. And before you know it, you're sitting all alone in a big, empty house, wearing rice on your tux, wondering what happened to your life. It was just six months ago that it happened here. Just six months ago that the storm broke.

Lucky Day: I'll come back some day.

Carmen: Why?

Lucky Day: [stumbles over his words] Well, I thought...

Lucky Day: Not so fast, El Guapo! Or I'll fill you so full of lead that you'll be using your dick for a pencil!

El Guapo: What do you mean?

Lucky Day: ...I don’t know.

Jefe: I think he means that if you –

El Guapo: SHUT UP!

Dusty Bottoms: Hey, Lucky, what are you gonna do with your share of the money?

Lucky Day: [thinks] A car. A big, shiny silver car. I'll drive all over Hollywood. Show Flugleman a thing or two. What about you?

Dusty Bottoms: New York. Maybe Paris. Champagne. Parties. I'll be a big shot for a while.

Lucky Day: Yeah.

Dusty Bottoms: How about you, Ned?

Ned Nederlander: I'm gonna start a foundation to help homeless children.

Dusty Bottoms: [he and Lucky realize how selfless that is compared to their ideas] That occurred to me to do that at one point, too.

Lucky Day: Well, I meant that I would do that first, and then I would get a big shiny car.

Lucky Day: In a way, all of us has an El Guapo to face. For some, shyness might be their El Guapo. For others, a lack of education might be their El Guapo. For us, El Guapo is a big, dangerous man who wants to kill us. But as sure as my name is Lucky Day, the people of Santa Poco can conquer their own personal El Guapo, who also happens to be the actual El Guapo!

Lucky Day: Well you slime eating dogs, you scum-sucking pigs, you sons of a motherless goat!

Lucky Day: You were supposed to fire up! We both fired UP! It's like living with a six-year-old.

Lucky Day: Oh GREAT!!! REAL bullets!!!

Lucky Day: Uh, this is real... Yes: They. are going. to KILL us!

Lucky Day: Mount up! ... It means get on your horses.

Lucky Day: [To summon the invisible swordsman] Farley Farley Farley Farley Farley, Hufaaaaarrr!

Newton Davis: Don't you remember the time I... I... I had myself delivered to you in a box for your birthday? And... and the guy I paid to deliver the box screwed up and delivered me to the wrong apartment? And... and how the... the lady who opened the box... uh... freaked out and started screaming? And I ran out of there just as you poked your head into the hall. And... and the next thing I know, this one's bashing me for having an affair with her neighbor, and this one's bashing me for being some kind of gift-wrapped pervert? And... and all I had to protect myself was... was a dozen roses. And... and... and you never even read the note.

Bus Driver: What did the note say?

Newton Davis: I... I'll tell you what it said... it said... marry me, Gwen, I'm lost without you.

Newton Davis: What do you say, Gwen? "Gwen" do you get off... and "gwhere" can we "gwo"?

Newton Davis: [[Ernest Hemingway] Wow! You're a genius. You're like the ] of bullshit.

Newton Davis: Half the things we tell ourselves are fiction.

Freddy Benson: I know somebody here! I met him on a train! His name... is... his name is... James. No. His name is... James Josephson. Lor. No, no, no. James Lawrence. LAWRENCE... Lawrence. Lawrence Fells. Lawrence Feings. Forest Lorenston. Low. Lars. LARS. Lawrence. Lawrence. Luch. Lawrence. Tuh. His name is James Jesenthon. Lawrence Fell. Lawrence Jesterton. LAWRENCE JESTERTON.

Inspector Andre: ...Lawrence Jamieson?

Freddy Benson: I didn't steal any money! She just saw me with another woman! You're French, you understand that!

Inspector Andre: To be with another woman, that is French. To be caught, that is American.

Freddy Benson: [telling a phony story to sucker Janet into giving him money] I was engaged to a girl back in the States. And we loved to dance... we wanted to be professionals, isn't that silly? And we got an opportunity to compete on television, on Dance USA. So we agreed that if we won, we'd get married. So we went on, and we danced, and we won!

Janet Colgate: That's great!

Freddy Benson: And in the excitement, we got separated. So I went back to the studio, and there they were. Naked, dancing... and then they stopped, and they made love right there on the dance floor!

Janet Colgate: [gasps] Who was she with?

Freddy Benson: [[w:Deney Terrio|Deney Terrio] ], the host of Dance USA.

Freddy Benson: [Sitting at the dinner table] Excuse me. May I go to the bathroom first?

Lawrence Jamieson: Of course you may.

Freddy Benson: [after a long pause, and with relief] Thank you.

Lawrence Jamieson: Do you ever have a single thought that originates from above the waist?

Freddy Benson: No!

Freddy Benson: [omitted from the profit distribution] Excuse me. What about me? What do I get?

Lawrence Jamieson: You are the student. You get knowledge.

Freddy Benson: [in a childlike voice] Oh, Lawrence! This is the happiest day of my life! I think my testicles are dropping!

Freddy Benson: I've got culture coming out of my ass.

Adam Schaffer: Here comes your ex-husband. Uh-oh, not the best time to be feeling groovy!

Clouseau: You are the soccer player known as Bizu?!

Bizu: Yes.

Clouseau: You are acquainted with Yves Gluant?!

Bizu: I'm glad he's pushing up daisies.

Clouseau: e is not pushing up daisies. e is dead!

Bizu: It's an idiom!

Clouseau: You, sir, are the idiom. Now, unless you want to spend ze rest of your life in prison, you will answer ze next question: did you kill him?!

Bizu: I would have loved to have killed him.

Clouseau: Duh!

Bizu: But, some lucky bastard beat me to it.

Clouseau: [Clouseau leaves, closing the door behind him, but immediately opens it again.] You disgust me! I'll be right back. Cigarette?

Bizu: No. Thanks.

Clouseau: Good for you. Bizu, I know you didn't do it. Someone else did, and they are trying to set you up.

Bizu: You'll help me?

Clouseau: Of course I'll help you. Now, do you have any idea who could have done this terrible thing?

Bizu: His partner in those stupid restaurants, Larocque.

Clouseau: Raymond Larocque, the casino owner!

Bizu: Gluant would steal money from the restaurants and use it to gamble. My guess is Larocque got fed up and had him killed.

Clouseau: Bizu, I like you. I am going to help you. You and I are going to make a great team.

Inspector Clouseau: Ze good-cop, bad-cop routine is working perfectly!

Ponton: You know, usually, two different cops do that.

Vainqueur: You wanted to see me?

Clouseau: You are Vainquer?

Vainqueur: Yes. And who are you?

Clouseau: I am Inspector Clouseau. Per'aps you ave eard of me.

Vainqueur: No.

Clouseau: [notices Ponton taking notes] Don't write that down!

Vainqueur: What do you want?

Clouseau: I am told that Bizu hated Gluant.

Vainqueur: A lot of people hated Gluant.

Clouseau: Did you?

Vainqueur: I spent six years under his thumb, being verbally abused every day. Yes, I was not a fan of Yves Gluant.

Clouseau: And now e is dead... and you have his job. How ironic.

Vainqueur: Not every death is a tragedy.

Ponton: And, what was the-

Clouseau: [''sniffs air''; The footsteps are shown to be those of Yuri, the team trainer] Footsteps. Its a young woman. 30 to 35 years old. 5"2, 5"4. Brunette. And she is wearing high heels. Perhaps a bit too formal for the afternoon. She has on... Chanel number 5. .

Clouseau: And you are?

Ponton: Gilbert Ponton. Detective, Second Class.

Clouseau: And what qualifications do you have for police work?

Ponton: My family has done police work in Paris for nine generations.

Clouseau: And before zat?

Ponton: We were policemen in the surrounding areas for two hundred years.

Clouseau: And before zat?

Ponton: Immigrants from various countries in Europe, all involved in police work.

Clouseau: And before zat?

Ponton: Farmers.

Clouseau: Mm. So you are a little lamb who has come to Clouseau for to learn. Gilbert Ponton, I vow to teach you everything I know about police work. And together, we are going to catch a killer.