War of the Buttons Page #5
- Year:
- 1962
- 90 min
- 399 Views
No.
We've seen show before.
Come on, show us.
- Little Gibus can't see my oedemas!
- Hey, why not?
- Because you don't have any.
- They haven't grown yet.
- How do you know?
- You don't read that magazine.
Leave her alone.
She doesn't want to.
- Anyhow, we're here to party!
- To hell with the Velrans!
They have a cavalry.
Well, now we have tanks.
Today's youths are something.
He's also a great mechanic.
- Hey, where are you going?
- It stalls in 3rd gear!
I want to try driving it uphill.
It'll only take 15 minutes.
See, he knows his stuff.
I tell you.
Achtung, citizens! Today you can
scream "Hurrah for our fort"...
because we've built a rectangular
parallelepiped with a 6mX3m base...
which makes:
6 times 3 equalsSince, citizens, the surface of
a rectangle equals...
the short side multiplied by
the long side.
The volume is 18 times
its height of 2 metres...
that is 36 cubic metres...
because the volume of a rectangular
parallelepiped equals...
the base surface multiplied by
the height, citizens.
Unlike the volume of a pyramid...
which is obtained
by dividing the height by two.
Therefore, citizens...
if we theorized...
that our fort was a pyramind...
we would have
to multiply 36 by 1...
or 18 by 2.
- Citizens--
- Bravo!
Wait! The surface of a trapeze--
My turn to give a speech.
- Out of my way!
- What's wrong with him?
like this, I'm gonna do the same.
Me too.
Come on, Macailler. Show us you're
man enough to sing a song.
Little Jesus
was going to school
Carrying the cross
on his shoulders
When he retained his lessons
An apple to put in his mouth
A bouquet to put in his heart
The Velrans! The Velrans!
Not me! Not me! Ask Laztec.
Leave Macailler alone.
Lacrique, Big Gibus,
follow Macailler!
Laztec, don't! Don't!
Not our fort!
- Get our warchest, Camus.
- I'm going in.
Well, Marie. You've got your work
cut out for you.
I knew I shouldn't have went!
- Let go of me! I want to go home!
- There he is.
- Let me go home!
- Take him in!
- What did I do to you?
- Let's get to the bottom of this.
- We don't serve justice like that.
- What justice?
You'll see that later.
I say there's a traitor among us.
- Where?
- Look in the mirror!
- Wait. He hasn't confessed yet.
- You're gonna wait a long time.
- Why did Laztec leave you alone?
- I don't know.
- You were at the fair with him.
- Mr. Chafouin saw you.
- Why did the Velrans let you go?
- I don't know.
- I saw you.
- Hey don't move! I can't sew!
I didn't do anything.
What do you have against me?
Let's find out.
Tie his arms and legs.
No, it's not me. It's not true.
Wait, guys. Lacrique, come here.
How did they force traitors to
confess during the Middle Ages?
- Take off his shoes.
Let go of me. What did I do to you?
- Like this, Lebraque?
- Hold his feet!
I confess! I did it! I did it!
- Untie him. We're gonna judge him.
- I confessed! You can't touch me.
It took us weeks to build the fort.
We built it with our labor,
courage, and even our education.
Ask Lacrique:
the surfaces,the volumes, everything.
We didn't learn all that for
nothing because of our fort.
All that has been smashed
because of you.
- We've lost half of our war chest.
- You stole from all of us.
You're a thief, Macailler.
You have no excuse.
You made us lose a battle.
I feel ashamed tonight.
We all fled
because we'd been betrayed.
And when there's a traitor,
all battles are lost.
- So, we're gonna kill him?
- We should.
We're gonna pierce his eyes with
needles and sew his eyelids shut?
No. Drop his pants.
Since he's hurt us all,
we'll flog him first.
We'll take turns and then we'll
decide what to do with him.
I said I would only be 15 minutes.
Mommy!
That's my boy!
- Who did this to you?
- Lebraque and his friends.
- My god!
- Mommy!
My little Jesus, what happened?
It's that little hoodlum
Lebraque again.
What happened, my little Jesus?
They tortured him.
Then it's the parents who
must face the music.
I'm gonna tell you what I think.
Your kids are all hoodlums.
They're hoodlums and savages.
And I'm gonna sue
the parents for damages.
In the fort--
Mom-- Dad--
They undressed me.
They beat me.
Be quiet!
We're gonna get it.
Stop whining. Last time we're the
ones who thrashed the Velrans.
Don't you remember Migue The Moon
with his shorts on his head?
That's what he looked like.
Look, I'm Migue The Moon.
How funny. I can see the ground.
I can walk like this.
I'm not scared.
You little hoodlum!
- Macailler spilled the beans.
- What are we gonna do?
You're gonna get a good licking.
You're gonna pay for this.
You're gonna get it good!
They're back!
- Here comes your father, Boulon.
- Go, we'll see what he says.
- We can't let him go alone.
- Let's all go. Right, Lebraque?
I would if I knew they wouldn't
send me to boarding school.
- You too will have to go home.
- They might calm down by tonight.
Okay, but for us
it's the sooner, the better.
- Tell them, Lebraque.
- He's right, guys. Go.
- I give the command over to Camus.
Forward and march.
Bye, guys.
Bye, Lebraque.
Damn tractor!
Why buttons? And how many?
How did you pay for them?
Are you going to tell me?
It's not me.
I didn't do anything.
Who's going to pay the damages?
You'll grow up to be a criminal.
Who did this?
Me! Lebraque!
You won't get me that easily!
I'd rather die than live in your
dumps or your boarding schools!
You'll never find me!
Die, you pigs!
Look who's here.
You don't need this anymore.
I'm telling you, we'll find him!
- Even if it takes all day.
- Or night.
In any case, we won't die
of thirst. He'd better watch out!
Should we tell the police?
Tell them
to mind their own business.
Let's have a snack.
We can't go
with our stomachs empty.
- Do we start with red or white?
- How about one of each.
Mind you, in my young days,
I may have done the same thing.
- What thing are you talking about?
- My boy and yours.
Suppose you would've snitched.
I would've smashed your face.
If you're defending him,
what are you doing here?
I'm not. I'm just telling you
I don't like snitches.
I'm gonna tell you something,
Lebraque.
Go ahead, tell him.
With your big mouth
and the way you defend him...
you'll be all hugs and kisses when
we find him. You'll forgive him.
Me, forgive him?
I'll show you if I'll forgive him!
Let him try to get away!
You don't know
what's in my pockets.
Look at this.
I'll fry his butt
if he tries to get away.
A good old grenade
from Grandpa Lebraque.
A grenade from the real war.
From Verdun, 1916. Not from their
stupid war with the atomic bomb.
Ye Gods! Look at this!
Lebraque, wait!
Damn! Let me throw it back
before it explodes.
- Oh, God!
- I'm dead!
You idiots!
Can't you see it's defused?
I want to scare my boy,
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"War of the Buttons" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/war_of_the_buttons_12094>.
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