Mousehunt Page #2

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No. The point is, I put everything

into that restaurant.

It was my livelihood and my home.

In one fatal bite,

it was all taken away from me.

If only we could sell the factory.

I'd let you stay with me, you know,

but, uh, April threw me out.

- Oh, that's too bad.

- Yeah, well, don't worry about me.

April's been like this

since high school.

- She'll be back. I...

- Would you look at them?

Sleeping in the street. Pitiful.

If I had a house, I'd sleep in it!

- Remember how close we were as kids?

- No.

Hey! Merry Christmas!

Yeah, I was on top once too.

But there's only one way to go from

there, and that's down, baby, down!

Oh!

Ernie.

Ernie! Ernie, there was

a quarter in there.

A quarter? You think so small, Lars.

Look at the bigger picture.

You have no home, no wife, no money.

You have no discernible talents.

How can you ignore that?

Ernie, it's Christmas.

Instead of dwelling on what we lack,

let's be thankful for what we have.

# lf only in my dreams #

(Ernie) What a dump.

Wow! I can't believe Pops

never told us about this house.

It's huge.

(Ernie) This is

the kind of house he'd have.

It's just like him. Cold and spooky.

- Wow! Did you feel that?

- What?

I got a chill. You shouldn't

talk about Pop like that.

Really? What's this do for you?

Thanks for nothing,

you string-sucking old loon!

He didn't mean it, Pop.

Ernie! Ernie!

Only one bed.

I'll flip you for it.

Heads.

- (Scratching)

- E-Ernie?

- Ernie. Ernie.

- (Groans)

- You asleep?

- I was.

- (Scratching)

- How can you sleep through that?

- What? I don't hear anything.

- Shh-shh-shh. That.

Listen. Hear it?

It's coming from upstairs.

(Scratching)

(Door creaks)

Mothballs.

(Screaming)

H-hey, stop it! Hey! Ow!

(Grunting)

(Whispering) Ernie! Ernie!

(Groaning)

(Rattling)

(Ernie grunts)

- (Thunderclap)

- (Screaming)

Wait. Wait a minute. Stop. Stop!

Look. Look, look, look.

It's only a toy.

(Screaming)

Ah, shut up!

(Scratching)

It's coming from up there!

One, two, three!

(Panting) Ooh!

- It's just a mouse.

- What?

- It's just a mouse. Never mind.

- (Straining)

Hey, there are some posters up here.

Oh! Stand still!

(Yells)

(Spitting)

- They're blueprints.

- Wow!

Wait a minute.

Look at this date. 1876.

A centennial house could actually

be worth something.

Look, this must be the architect.

Look.

Charles Lyle LaRue.

- Charles Lyle LaRue.

- Charles Lyle LaRue?

(Thud)

Charles Lyle LaRue.

Charles Lyle LaRue!

Charles Lyle LaRue!

I'm actually standing

in the missing LaRue!

- It's bold yet subtle.

- Classical yet non-traditional.

The missing LaRue.

The rumoured design completed before

his committal isn't a rumour.

Before his committal?

I'm just glad he finished it...

before they carted him off

to the laughing academy.

So, what do you think a magnificent

edifice like this is worth?

Properly restored, of course.

Well, his Parma Charnel House

went for six...

But that was 10 years ago,

and it didn't have this moulding.

I see. I can't get enough

of good moulding.

- Did you hear that? $600,000.

- Phew.

Alexander Falko!

Back!

Gentlemen, congratulations.

Congratulations on your find.

I'm a great admirer of LaRue.

- Glass of rainwater, please.

- The leading collector of LaRues.

Sort of like collecting stamps,

but bigger?

I'll get to the point. LaRue.

I have his books and his letters.

You see these shoes?

- (Together) LaRues?

- No, but he would love them.

Vegetarian snack. I own... (Chewing)

42 LaRue houses. 42.

I want to make it 43.

You tell me how I'm going to do this.

Tell me how I will do this.

Help me. How will I do this?

Well, I'm, uh, glad you asked.

His Parma Charnel House

went for six, ten years ago,

but it didn't have this moulding.

A find like this today

is worth twice as much.

- He's a LaRue connoisseur.

- Guilty as charged.

Gentlemen, I'm going

to make you an offer.

No, no, no, I couldn't be so crass

as to allow you to do that.

But you are welcome

to come to the auction.

- Auction?

- Auction, yes.

It would be unfair of us to deprive

others of the chance to bid.

Um...

May I have one moment

with my brother, please?

- Sure. Of course.

- Thank you.

- What is this?

- It's the...

- What is this? No.

- It's the first I've heard...

- What are you doing?

- Answering your prayers.

These pigeons are ripe for plucking.

Put them in a room

to outbid each other?

- We'll make $700,000, $800,000 easy.

- Man, you're smart!

Oof!

- You'll get it...

- Don't talk to me!

So, when is the, uh,

earliest we can set the auction?

I suppose all arrangements

could be completed within the week.

- A week it is.

- Great!

- You're smarter than you look.

- (Together) Thank you.

But know this.

I have never paid more than $10

million for a house in my life!

OK, see you, then.

Yeah. Thanks for stopping by.

Ten million linen napkins.

Five million bales

of top-grade cotton fibre.

Forty thousand hot lamps complete

with rotating plate-warming trays.

Two thousand twine threaders,

gleaming under real lights.

(Ernie) My own chain of restaurants.

(Lars, echoing) April can have

anything she's ever wanted!

(Faintly) Cars, coats, china.

She loves china.

(Fan blades whooshing)

(Ernie) I'm gonna build

a swimming pool...

full of pina coladas

and a college girls.

(Lars) lf only Pop

could've seen this house!

He did. He just wasn't

smart enough to sell it.

We've turned a corner.

Our future is staring us in the face.

All we have to do is grab it,

baste it, and scarf it down!

Aha! We've finally found

our friend's home!

Well, I bought

a present for ya, buddy.

Ernie, i-it's just a little mouse.

Do we really have to kill it?

Yes. Listen to me.

A single vermin can bring you down.

Believe me, I know. (Snap) Ah...

(Snoring)

- (Snap)

- (Gasps)

(Sighs)

- I trust you slept well.

- Oh! Like a baby.

Hey, last night,

did you hear the, uh...

Oh, yeah. Let's see.

- Well, where'd he go?

- Maybe it snapped by itself.

I don't believe it.

He snapped the trap, ate the olive,

and left the pit just to mock us.

You're giving him

a little too much credit.

Mice don't mock.

They don't have a sense of humour.

He's not sitting in his hole

in a smoking jacket,

sipping cognac,

giggling "I left the pit."

The trap snapped itself,

the olive flew off, and he ate it.

But now he knows we're here,

he won't come near us.

We won't be seeing that... Mouse!

(Both shrieking)

Aha! Ow!

(Screams)

What are you doing, ya stupid nitwit?

Don't let him get away!

(Laughs)

(Yelling)

(Bloodthirsty screaming)

Ow!

Ow!

Are you trying to kill me?

Ah, the mouse!

(Ernie) Let me see. Let me see!

(Lars) Can you see him?

Get me my Gouda.

- Careful, careful!

- Don't touch me. You'll snap it.

You're not doin' it right.

(Lars) Put it on carefully.

(Ernie) I am.

(Ernie) Oh, relax. It's cheese.

Bon appetit.

That takes care of that. Huh?

(Hammering)

Oh! Oh!

Hey!

Hey! What are you doin'?

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