Radiostars Page #6

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She makes me a freak show.

I stink of defeat.

But she's right.

- She's right!

- How come? I don't get it.

She knows I'm crazy.

I might lose it anytime.

- No?

- Sure.

It's harmless craziness. Artistic.

It's the emotion.

Here we go, losing it.

How long did it take?

30 seconds, tops.

Blunt?

He's starting up.

I'm bad.

Where's he going?

Sorry for bothering you

while you're driving.

Very well, too, I might add.

I was wondering, do you have any idea

of our point of reentry?

Come again?

Where are we going, if you prefer?

The journey, Cyril.

Embrace the journey.

The only one for miles.

Check out how it shines in the night!

What the heck?

Onions!

You gotta tell him

it's off limits here.

They'll shred my ass.

You tell him.

Sir...

Salad!

He's busy.

The ice cream's hot.

Hey, Harry and Sally, what's up?

We're eating ice cream not making out.

Get off my back.

You wanna make out?

You're as dumb as him.

Good one, Ben.

I thought

you were bigtime cocksuckers,

but it turns out you're cool.

You see...

Leo...

I'm touched.

When's your show again?

It's f***ed.

We're on air in two hours.

Why not do it here?

My ass is shredded forever.

Up, up, up!

This is a big day.

For the first time,

we're live at McDonald's in Mornas.

Get in your cars,

on your bikes, scooters or whatever,

and get down here

for breakfast with us...

While you relish your breakfast,

I'm going to introduce

our surprise guest.

You're so gonna freak.

Give it up for...

Leonardo Da Vitry!

It's all yours.

Where, where, where I'm going

Where I'm going

I don't know where I'm going

lf, if, if I knew

If only

I knew where I'm going

Today once more

I flee once more

I'm running away

I can't make the play

Yes, no

Up and down

Am I a fake

Or what I want to be?

Far or near

Or on the horizon

In the end

I don't know where I'm from

Today once more

I flee once more

I'm running away

I can't make the play

Today once more

I flee once more

I'm running away

I continue to stray

Thanks, Leonardo. Wonderful.

Rap the way it should be.

- He's my favorite.

- Yes.

Check out the receptionist. Creamy.

She's a decoy doss.

Yeah? I get it.

Sir only eats gourmet doss now.

No, but she's a decoy doss.

I'm picky about what I eat.

Decoy doss, decoy doss...

She is.

That's gourmet!

Can I help you?

Sorry to bother you.

I'm facing an annoying situation.

Not that I'm annoyed.

Just a second.

I'm keeping my cool.

I got the disabled room again.

It's no problem,

a shower ramp, raised toilet.

Just a second!

You see,

I'm sick of shitting

with my feet off the ground.

If I could switch rooms,

I'd appreciate it.

What?

I'm sorry.

It's cool, everything's fine.

Well...

I got an email from Frederico.

He's good, he's fine.

Great.

He wants Alex

to replace you for the concert.

Pardon me?

He can go f*** himself!

Ten years I've hosted it.

Nothing changes.

What do you mean?

Alex knows?

No.

So keep your mouth shut.

I host it, period.

Alex can do it. He's good.

I know Alex is good.

- There's no email.

- There is.

- You never received it.

- I did.

- Are we agreed?

- Sure.

- Did you receive it?

- No email.

Very good.

Just after the break,

Homer, Bart and Liza,

Mr. Burns and Smithers

in another episode of

The Simpsons.

Smithers?

He said Smithers.

That's my name.

Yeah, Smithers in The Simpsons.

You never saw The Simpsons?

No, never.

Arnold gave me my name ages ago.

I have the same name

as a star of The Simpsons?

F***ing classy!

What's Smithers like?

Is he cool?

Punctual?

Professional?

What kind of guy is he?

I guess you'd say

Smithers is the ultimate asslicker.

Meaning?

The guy's a brownnose,

who loves being humiliated by his

boss.

The guy's a streak of sh*t.

A real streak of sh*t.

I get it!

Maybe

it's not him.

Arnold must know another Smithers.

Obviously.

When you finish a sentence,

you spout sh*t.

- Flip channels?

- Leave it.

It's fine.

It's me. Open up.

What the hell are you doing?

You with a doss?

No, I'm wiped out.

You smell fucky.

- Who is it?

- Nobody.

- I need a mental picture.

- No, no picture.

The receptionist?

Yeah, the receptionist.

You're good. I knew it.

Very good.

See you tomorrow.

What's going on?

- She's naked?

- No, she's not.

Is she jilling off?

Maybe later.

Shave her p*ssy. Creamy.

No, I won't shave her p*ssy.

Make a phone-vid and send me it.

We'll see.

By email if it's too big.

The wifi works great.

Okay, wifi.

Hey, dude.

I'm proud of you.

See?

You're happy, I'm happy.

I am happy.

I am really happy.

F*** her, bone her dry.

Sure.

But classy.

Like a Brit.

Mustache, Oxford...

Walking stick, see?

Monocle.

A champion.

Think champion.

Sh*t!

Remember tonight's concert

to close our summer tour,

hosted by yours truly.

Come on down, everybody,

to join us at the Dome in Marseille.

The home of hip-hop.

For the concert...

Jeez, guys!

Listeners, we have Smithers breezing

in,

throwing smokes at me.

- A problem, Smithers?

- I'm not Smithers.

You know, it may be

that today's scratching day.

He's scratching, guys.

- Unless it's bad news.

- A death?

- Perhaps.

- Hagrid's dead?

He's been turned down for Hogwarts.

That can hit a guy hard.

Can't hear you.

3 wotsits.

3 wotsits, guys.

I've won! I got 3 wotsits.

30,000 f***ing euros!

30,000 euros scratching!

Madness.

It's hardly Dubai. Settle down.

It's still cool.

I'm rich!

You know what?

Screw you!

Go f*** yourself!

Now you can buy your own cigarettes.

And stick your ristretto up your hole.

Chill, kid.

It's an old sketch he wrote.

I won't cover for you.

Listen up, everybody.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Frederico wants Alex

to host the concert

but Arnold asked me to lie.

You heard me.

He asked me to lie.

Frederico wants Alex

to host the concert at the Dome.

Swivel on that, my friend!

We'll settle this off air, okay.

My name's Fabrice!

No more Smithers!

- Calm down.

- You pipe down, too.

You crappy has-been!

Don't you see people laughing at you,

with your Barbie hair

and ballet shoes?

Wake up, shithead.

Repettos.

Okay?

Repettos!

Shoes of legend of the 1970s

worn by artists

who had something to say.

Screw your fashion tips!

Got that, loser?

Show some respect.

I'm a grandfather.

What?

Come again?

Actually,

my daughter gave birth last week.

He's a grandfather.

Who gives a sh*t?

It's my big moment.

Listen to me now.

It's my f***ing moment!

I'm rich and I screw you!

Let's see.

Screw you, too! 30,000 times!

Failed comic, call my office.

You little f*ggot.

I resign, dammit!

30,000 euros.

- Chill.

- F*** you!

Get off of me, Barbie!

3 wotsits! 30 grand!

I'm going on vacation.

30 grand, screw you!

- Screw you!

- Okay, you screwed us all.

You're a sore loser. Ugly man.

It feels so good!

Look. 1, 2, 3.

You need 1, 2, 3, 4.

Bullshit!

Look! Be nice.

1, 2, 3, 4.

You only have 1, 2, 3.

See?

Do you see?

Maybe I overreacted.

What a jerk.

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