Aaltra Page #2

Where's Pichon?

- Over there.

Hey, who was first?

Everts. And who's Everts?

Seven times a world champion.

Image, Jrmie.

Seventy times.

Plus all his dad's victories

makes ninety times.

Together they were world champions

ninety times.

No sir, you're wrong.

What?

- You're wrong.

Why?

- Don't believe everything your dad says.

Everts has only been a world

champion six times,

Plus his dad's two times.

Makes eight.

What did I say?

- Ninety.

Ninety times a world champion.

There's something like

motorcross history.

Listen, Superman.

Just because you lost your legs

doesn't mean you can be rude with me.

Dad, come on.

- It's OK, Jrmie.

Yes.

You're lucky I'm here

with my son.

Know what, Jrmie,

let's go get some snacks.

We can get snacks easily

whenever we want.

Get a snack and back,

get a snack and back.

As often as we like.

Feel like running, Jrmie?

Oh, I love my legs.

Bastard.

Guys, you can't sit here.

Keep clear. Let's go.

Who's he?

That's Joel Robert.

Joel Robert.

And?

- Great.

And my sandwich?

- I have something better. Look.

Testdriving the Husqvarna automatic.

The only one in motocross history.

You don't need

a license to ride it.

You and your bikes.

F*** it, I'm fed up.

Don't you understand

you'll never ride?

You told me it's all over!

Finished!

Your dreams, your champions.

That Joel Robert kicked you around

like a piece of sh*t.

Joel Robert would never say that.

Do you know who Joel Robert is?

- No.

He was the world champion

motorcross six times.

Between 1962 and 1972.

He's allowed to treat me like sh*t.

I am sh*t next to him,

so are you, so is everyone.

Even worse:
we're dead.

- You're dead. I'm alive.

I'm alive. I'm hungry and cold

and want to smash everything.

What's your problem?

Hitting a handicapped guy!

I don't want to hit you.

I want to go to Finland.

F*** off!

- Piss off to Finland!

Hey, there's another one!

We can't leave him here.

- Please, it's our holidays.

Why not?

- Honey, I'm not Mother Teresa.

Let someone else give him a lift.

- But we can't leave him there.

Honey, you don't know what he's like,

he could be a criminal.

A criminal? Don't make me laugh.

- We've already lost half an hour

No, no, keep driving.

Such friendly people.

Where did you get that?

The fridge of those friendly people.

I've had enough of it.

They drank all our liquor.

They are drunk as a fiddler.

They ate all our food.

Are you bringing them home too?

- But they're handicapped.

I don't want to hear another

word about it. Let's go.

Our father who art in heaven,

Hallowed be thy name,

thy kingdom come...

on earth as it is in heaven...

What were the words again?

I think it's fading.

Bastard!

Listen to this.

Hakan Carlqvist,

World Champion of 1988.

It's about Namur,

where we've been.

Namur is excellent for pranks.

At one point the road

passes a bar,

called Le Chalet du Monument.

Often did I envy the

spectators...

sitting in the shade,

while we were nearly melting

on our bikes.

Before the game I told my brother

to order me a beer in that bar.

If I had the time I would

drink the beer in a later round.

And I did. I came out with a

beer moustache. Wonderful.

Those were the days.

Can you imagine Michael Schumacher

pulling over for a beer?

Cut it... the sausage.

What's that?

Finland.

Me, to Finland.

I didnt have my accident there

but I want to go to Finland.

No sauce?

- No sauce.

None?

It's OK.

Now you can buy

the Husqvarna bike...

and win every Grand Prix.

Come on.

F***ers.

Do you think we're retarded?

Here we come.

Which of you a**holes

built my trailer?

They can't hear you

with their helmets on.

Give us back our legs!

Give us back our legs

you f***ers!

Did you build my trailer?

Sure, just pretend you're working.

Swindler.

Do you think handicapped

people are funny?

You'll pay.

Pay up!

You have to pay me!

I brought my medical file.

We lost our legs because

of your lousy trailer.

Because of your crap!

We want to be reimbursed.

- 6 million Euros by my count.

- For each of us.

Look at this, Aaltra material.

I didn't travel 3000 kilometers

to not speak to the boss.

Bring me the manager.

Manager!

I have been ran over

with one of your tractors!

Do you understand?

Are you listening?

The manager!

I want to speak to him, you hear?

Reimbursement!

Six million!

Six million Euros!

Who's in charge of writing

the manuals here?

Anybody?

No interpreter?

I want my money! Reimbursement!

Six million!

- Do you understand?

I want to see the manager

right now!

You're just nattering away

on that phone!

We lost our legs!

How do you feel about that?

At the other end of town.

Six million.

You seem to know my

gear well.

Would you like to work for me?

Yeah, why not.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow morning at seven.

- Seven it is.

Eight.

- Eight 'o clock.

Eight.

Does it rain here often?

Only on Sundays.

- Only on Sundays?

But it's Monday today.

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