Ratatouille Page #6

- Yes, sir.

I said, "Gusteau has finally

found his rightful place in history

"right alongside

another equally famous chef,

"Monsieur Boyardee."

Touch.

That is where I left it.

That was my last word.

- The last word.

- Yes.

Then tell me, Ambrister,

how could it be popular?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

The DNA matches, the timing works,

everything checks out.

He is Gusteau's son.

This can't just happen!

The whole thing is a setup!

The boy knows!

Look at him out there,

pretending to be an idiot.

He's toying with my mind

like a cat with a ball of... Something.

- String?

- Yes! Playing dumb.

- Taunting me with that rat.

- Rat?

Yes. He's consorting with it.

Deliberately trying to make me think

it's important.

- The rat.

- Exactly!

Is the rat important?

Of course not!

He just wants me to think that it is.

Oh, I see the theatricality of it.

A rat appears on the boy's first night,

I order him to kill it.

And now he wants me

to see it everywhere.

Ooh!

It's here! No, it isn't, it's here!

Am I seeing things, am I crazy?

Is there a phantom rat or is there not?

But, oh, no!

I refuse to be sucked into

his little game of...

Should I be concerned about this?

About you?

Huh?

I can't fire him. He's getting attention.

If I fire him now,

everyone will wonder why.

And the last thing I want

is people looking into this.

What are you so worried about?

Isn't it good to have the press?

Isn't it good to have Gusteau's name

getting headlines?

Not if they're over his face!

Gusteau's already has a face,

and it's fat and lovable and familiar.

And it sells burritos!

Millions and millions of burritos!

The deadline passes in three days.

Then you can fire him

whenever he ceases to be valuable

and no one will ever know.

I was worried

about the hair sample you gave me.

- I had to send them back to the lab.

- Why?

Because the first time it came back

identified as rodent hair.

- No, no, no.

- LINGUINl:
What?

Try this. It's better.

Well, because you...

Whoa!

Rat!

Disgusting little creatures.

I was reminded

how fragile it all was.

How the world really saw me.

And it just kept getting better.

Remy!

Remy!

Psst! Psst!

Hey, hey, hey, little brother!

We were afraid you weren't going to,

you know, show up.

- Hey, Remy! How you doing?

- You told them?

Emile,

that's exactly what I said not to do!

But you know these guys.

They're my friends.

I didn't think you meant them.

Look, I'm sorry.

Don't tell me you're sorry,

tell them you're sorry.

- Is there a problem over here?

- No, there is not.

Wait here.

It's locked?

Hmm...

Remy, what are you doing in here?

Okay. Emile shows up with...

Okay, I said not to. I told him...

He goes and blabs to...

Yeah, it's a disaster.

Anyway, they're hungry, the food safe

is locked and I need the key.

- They want you to steal food?

- Yes. No! It's...

- They want you to steal food?

- Yes. No! It's...

It's complicated. It's family.

They don't have your ideals.

Ideals?

If Chef Fancy Pants had any ideals,

you think I'd be hawking barbecue

over here?

Or microwave burritos?

Or, Tooth, I say,

Tooth Pick'n Chicken?

About as French as a corn dog!

Coming soon!

We're inventing new ways

to sell out over here.

Will ye be wanting some haggis bites?

I cannot control

how they use my image, Remy.

- I am dead!

- Can you guys shut up?

I've got to think! Word's getting out.

If I can't keep them quiet,

the entire clan's gonna be after me

with their mouths open and...

Here it is.

Hey. Your will!

- Oh, this is interesting. Mind if I...

- Not at all.

Linguini?

Why would Linguini be filed

with your will?

This used to be my office.

He's your son?

- I have a son?

- How could you not know this?

I am a figment of your imagination.

You did not know, how could I?

Well, your son is the rightful owner

of this restaurant!

Well, your son is the rightful owner

of this restaurant!

No! No! The rat!

- Sorry, chef.

- The rat! It's stolen my documents!

- It's getting away!

Hey, Mr. Chef!

You!

- Get out of my office.

- He's not in your office. You are in his.

Bottoms up, Linguini!

Cheers, ja.

Chef! Chef!

Chef Linguini!

Your rise has been meteoric,

yet you have no formal training.

What is the secret to your genius?

LINGUINl:
Secret? You want the truth?

I am Gusteau's son.

It's in my blood I guess.

But you weren't

aware of that fact until very recently.

No.

And it resulted in

your taking ownership of this restaurant.

How did you find out?

Well, some part of me just knew.

The Gusteau part?

- Where do you get your inspiration?

- Inspiration has many names.

- Mine is named Colette.

- What?

Something's stuck in my teeth.

Health Inspector.

I wish to report a rat infestation.

It's taken over my...

Gusteau's restaurant.

Gusteau's, eh?

I can drop by. Let's see.

First opening is three months.

It must happen now!

It's a gourmet restaurant!

Monsieur, I have the information.

If someone cancels, I'll slot you in.

But the rat!

You must...

It stole my documents.

It's past opening time.

He should have

finished an hour ago.

Bonjour, ma chrie.

Join us.

We were just talking

about my inspiration.

Yes, he calls it his tiny chef.

Not that, dearest. I meant you.

- It's him.

- Ego?

Anton Ego!

Is that Ego?

I can't believe it.

- You are Monsieur Linguini?

- Hello.

Pardon me for interrupting

your premature celebration,

but I thought it only fair

to give you a sporting chance

as you are new to this game.

- Game?

- Yes.

And you've been playing

without an opponent.

Which is, as you may have guessed,

against the rules.

You're Anton Ego.

You're slow

for someone in the fast lane.

And you're thin

for someone who likes food.

I don't like food. I love it.

If I don't love it, I don't swallow.

I will return tomorrow night

with high expectations.

Pray you don't disappoint me.

Listen, we hate to be rude,

but we're French, and it's dinnertime.

She meant to say,

"It's dinnertime and we're French."

Don't give me that look.

You were distracting me

in front of the press.

How am I supposed to concentrate with

you yanking on my hair all the time?

And that's another thing.

Your opinion isn't the only one

that matters here.

Colette knows how to cook, too,

you know.

All right, that's it!

You take a break, Little Chef.

I'm not your puppet,

and you're not

my puppet-controlling guy!

The rat is the cook.

You cool off and get your mind right,

Little Chef.

You cool off and get your mind right,

Little Chef.

Ego is coming, and I need to focus!

You stupid...

Wow. I have never seen that before.

Yeah, it's like you're his fluffy bunny

or something.

I'm sorry, Remy.

I know there are too many guys.

- I tried to limit...

- You know what?

It's okay. I've been selfish.

- You guys hungry?

- Are you kidding?

All right. Dinner's on me.

We'll go after closing time.

- In fact...

- Yeah.

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