The Junk Shop Page #2

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Whenever they puke

in front of the church door

the Dean says indulgently,

"As Christians,

we must be forgiving."

So, he forgives

and I clean up the mess.

Cutting this angel in half,

I expect to see blood at any moment.

You're new to this.

Hana, you've made me very happy.

Have you found the invoice?

Sod the invoice, I can't find Pepa!

What's on your programme now, girls?

The best film we've ever shown.

"The Hunchback".

Eight bags of ice cream paper daily!

Pepa, where are you?

Little Pepa!

They've cut it up!

How could you do that?!

The sacristan said

that's how you wanted it.

You vandals!

In halves...

And the halves in half again!

Next week will be even better.

We'll be showing "Hamlet".

The girls say

it's a touching love story.

Pepa!

It's no use, Ma'am. You can

never find anything round here.

People have mistakenly brought

all kinds of things.

An engine as good as new...

Shoes, radios, petrol vouchers,

and once even diamonds

worth one and half million.

Look! A goose!

Good Lord, Maenka!

Here...

Seven detectives spent a whole week

going through this heap,

page by page,

and they found nothing.

You'll sooner find

King Solomon's buried treasure.

Venou!

No, it's Pepa, Pepa!

They cut them into little pieces!

Do you know all the films by heart?

No, I'm more of a theatre girl.

Well, how can you tell

which film is good?

A good film yields

eight bags of waste paper,

a poor one only two.

It'll take hours to weigh all this.

- What do you estimate?

- Seventeen quintals.

- Sixteen.

- All right.

Good Lord...

Good afternoon, Madam.

Good afternoon, Frantiek.

- Your former husband?

- No, my former chauffeur.

Yes, we had twelve rooms,

two maids and a chauffeur.

Our gardener would

come every morning and ask,

"What flowers would you like today?"

So, you've ended up like these books.

Formerly ten fifty each,

now twenty hellers a kilo.

Well, I used to own swings

and a shooting gallery, too.

And I could work two swings

at the same time.

God bless you, cheeky fellas!

I thought I'd drop in for a minute.

My boss has been arrested.

He's gone mad.

He broke up antique angel statues

into pieces.

A vermouth.

What's up?

Now we have to be

nice to each other, Granddad.

We'll be closing down

our Collection Centre.

It'll be turned into a cabaret hall

or we'll be selling gold there.

All this is about as true

as when you said I was pregnant.

Oh, my darling, how could I!

I was misunderstood.

I'd never say a thing like that.

I meant mentally pregnant!

You said nasty things about me.

- That she was pregnant.

- It was a mistake.

I never said she was pregnant.

Pregnant with beautiful thoughts!

And that's why I've brought nourishment

for your refined thinking.

- What will it be, darling?

- I'll let you decide.

- A vermouth?

- Sure.

- Are these love stories?

- Passionate, too.

"Magda's Destiny"

and "The Broken Bonds".

But "The Baron's Desire",

that's a masterpiece.

I can hardly wait!

Tell it in a few words...

One quiet, beautiful night...

...Vilma opened the French window

leading on to the terrace

and cried, "Oh, Baron!"

Then she said,

"Baron, do not utter such words.

"You are a married man

and I am an honourable maiden."

You know what, dear?

Lunch is on me.

The Baron fell on his knees

and whimpered,

"Vilma, love always

overcomes prejudice."

Then the Baroness entered, crying,

"Vilma, how could you admit

a married man at night?

"And I trusted you so!"

And then, my dear?

A terrible disaster.

I'd rather not say.

Never mind me.

I've buried two husbands already.

You're a lady, that's evident.

And in the last chapter,

the Baroness says to Vilma

who's lying on her death bed,

"Vilma, do you deny

having taken poison?"

And Vilma whispers,

"I swear I only have two cats here.

"The third one drowned yesterday."

Take it easy, mister.

We were informed that

twelve cats have run amok in here.

Having twelve cats is against the law.

Come on, sign this paper.

That's Hana's work!

Recently, he was telling people

that I took a plaster cast of a live cat,

then gave it a cold compress

and poured valerian extract

into its ears

and the beast went wild

and bit thirty school children.

Is this where I sign?

Pussies!

You should have brought him to us.

Hana?

No, that cat.

A cold compress won't help.

We would put it down

without any suffering.

One cut and done.

Give the goose some water.

What have I done to deserve this?

God bless. How is little Oto?

It's Pepa, Pepa!

I can't find him!

I can start building a cottage.

And here's my oven door,

a good one, at least two kilos.

And I, being an idiot,

charged for it as if it were paper!

Stop the press!

What did you say?

You criminal!

Little Pepa nearly got pressed!

You could have been

turned into carpet.

Stop crying!

Here, take him.

Pepa. Pepa...

My darling baby!

See what you've done?

Why did you have to lose my invoice?!

Why? Miserable brat!

Answer me, will you?

Now you're going to sort out

all this paper.

And stop crying!

Such statues keep weariness

and suicidal thoughts at bay.

Creative work alone can withstand

the onslaught of the Infinite.

One has to be full of productive

silence and creative calm.

That's it.

It's the opposite of the roast pork,

dumplings and sauerkraut philosophy.

I pity those for whom the delight

of real creative work has been denied.

If such an individual

did a bit of thinking,

he'd shed tears.

Tears of dread.

In fact, Hana,

I feel sorry for you too

for being deprived of such delight,

such happiness.

Your joy consists

of fuss and provocation.

This isn't an adequate defence

against the violent onslaught

of the Infinite!

Here... come on, goose!

Come right in, gentlemen -

this is your last chance.

Three shots - one crown.

Everybody can take a shot.

That's it!

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