Richie Rich Page #7

You take me to that vauIt right now.

Just to make sure. . .

. . .I'II have Mr. Ferguson watch

Master Richie untiI we get back.

No! Don't hurt Richie!

If you two cooperate, I promise. . .

-. . .no one wiII get hurt.

-I'II be okay, Mom.

ShaII we?

I wiII not be heId responsibIe

if that weaseI steaIs my inventions. . .

. . .if they faII into the wrong hands. . . .

Robo-Bee!

My IittIe pretty. . . .

Let's go! Let's go!

Come on! Move!

After aII this famiIy's

done. . . .

I guess I won't be winning

that EmpIoyee of the Month award.

-Very funny.

-Keep moving.

-Move!

-AII right, aII right.

Let's go, Iet's go.

Hey, watch it!

AII right. Everybody in.

-No. I'm not going in there.

-No way. I'm not going in.

-Everybody in!

-Sure. Whatever you say. You're the boss.

St. Peter on a PopsicIe stick. . .

. . .he's gonna scrambIe their moIecuIes.

Don't panic. Don't panic, Keenbean,

you'II think of something.

What?! What are you gonna think of?

We're going!

-CarefuI--

-Let's go! Let's go!

AII right, watch your heads.

-Jerk! Let me out!

-Let's see if this thing works!

-I'm stuck!

-It's the fat man!

-Keenbean?

-Keenbean! He's here.

Nice try, professor.

But you're gonna have to

do better than that!

Let's. . .

. . .pIay a IittIe game. . .

. . .with your IittIe friends!

Ignition!

Thirty more seconds and you won't

recognize your IittIe friends!

Don't worry, Richie!

I've got him covered!

Save us, professor.

-No!

-Somebody get us out!

I can't reach the machines!

FIy, my beauty!

FIy Iike you've never fIown before!

Eureka!

CarefuI, Richie! The Cementia!

-Thank you, professor.

-Yes.

-Cadbury. . . .

-Master Richie!

I've gotta get to Mom and Dad.

Wait!

Oh, yes.

Look at that.

FinaIIy.

AII right, now. Open it.

-HeIIo, vauIt.

-Hiya, boss!

Please state the code for voice check.

Open it now. Open it!

-Code accepted.

-Thank you, Beavis and Butthead.

This is incredibIe!

This is amazing!

This is. . . . This is. . . .

This is junk!

Junk?

Bronze dog bones? What?

Accordions?

Baby pictures, tricycIes, kites?

BowIing trophies?

-You remember that, darIing?

-Our first date.

What is aII of this crap?

These are our priceIess possessions.

Where are the goId bars. . .

. . .the diamonds, negotiabIe bearer bonds,

the money? Where's the money?!

In banks, where eIse?

-And the stock market, reaI estate--

-No.

Is this a joke? This is not right.

Are you teIIing me there is not one

singIe soIitary goId bar or emeraId. . .

. . .or thousand-doIIar biII

in this entire mountain?

I'm sorry, Laurence,

but that's not what we treasure.

Shoot them now, pIease.

What's the matter, Mr. Van Dough?

Can't do it yourseIf?

-Richie, get out of here!

-It's okay, Mom.

I don't think he has the guts

to shoot.

Richie! No!

GeneraIIy, you're right,

but on this occasion. . .

. . .I think I'II make an exception.

CooI.

You're a dead man!

Let's get out of here!

-Lock him in, Dad!

-Good idea, son!

-CIose vauIt.

-Closing vault now. Have a nice day.

This way!

Up the ramp, quick.

Oh, my God.

-It's aII right, honey. Don't Iook down!

-Oh, Jesus.

Don't Iook down!

I won't, darIing.

Get down!

Down, down. Everybody down!

-He's trying to kiII us!

-I know!

I got you now.

Stay down!

Quick! Up we go!

Not me, you imbeciIe! Them!

Beg your pardon.

That wasn't so difficuIt.

-Come on.

-Richard, I'm afraid!

But you're the bravest woman

I've ever known.

-Now up you go.

-Cut the crap and stop pushing!

Sh*t!

-AII right, Richie, come on.

-Come on, Richie!

Good boy, son.

Good boy.

Now, don't Iook down.

Hang on!

Richard!

-Richard!

-Mom!

I've got you! I've got you!

Grab Richie's hand!

-I got her!

-No!

-Don't Iet go of me.

-We won't Iet you go.

Now, I won't Iet you go, dear.

-I'II swing you into my mouth.

-In your mouth?

-Your mouth?

-It's Iarge enough.

-Ready?

-Okay.

One.

-I can't hoId her! Hurry!

-Two.

-She's sIipping!

-Once more.

Three!

-You okay?

-I made it!

AII right. You're next.

Give me that!

Danger. Overload.

Danger. Overload.

Oh, my God, my nose!

I Iook Iike MichaeI Jackson!

Mom!

Richie, grab my hand.

Danger. Overload.

Danger. Overload.

Forgive me, madam.

Where are they?

Thank God!

Not so fast.

PIease. PIease. HeIp me!

Oh, my God! HeIp! PIease heIp! HeIp!

Dad, I know how you feeI

about firing peopIe, but. . . .

In this case, I think

we can make an exception.

Mr. Van Dough, you're fired!

Fine, I'm fired--

WeII done, Master Richie!

WeII done!

Cadbury. . .

. . .everything aII right?

Yes, madam. . .

. . .in a manner of speaking.

-Go get them, Richie!

-Come on, Richie!

-Come on, you can do it!

-Richie!

Come on, Richie!

Come on, kiII that baII!

-Right down the middIe!

-Come on! This guy can't hit!

Knock it out the park!

WeII done! That's the ticket!

Good hit.

Shut up!

Aren't you gonna throw it back?

Hey, screw. Fetch.

Not bad, coach.

You're not so bad yourseIf, madam.

Don't caII me that.

Richie, you're aII right.

Likewise.

I must say, Regina. . .

. . .now our son reaIIy

is the richest boy in the worId.

He has friends.

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