What's New Pussycat Page #7

I'm the happiest woman in the worid.

- Second happiest.

- Oh?

Your mother.

Rene? Hello, pussycat.

Um...

I can't make it.

I have an assignment somewhere else,

do you see? And it's an emergency.

Goodbye, pussycat.

Gradual disengagement.

Pussycat?

I'm off. See you tomorrow.

Have fun.

You sure you're not meeting some dolly?

Trust, my darling, trust. That's the basis

of any marriage. Do you want to come?

No. I have too much to do

in view of recent developments.

I'll be back tomorrow. If I'm not

back tomorrow, send for the police.

If they're not back tomorrow,

send my clothes.

I love you.

Bonjour.

Philippe? It's Rene.

Listen, what about

that weekend we talked about?

Yes, I'm suddenly free. And I have a

reservation for two at Chateau Chantelle.

Hello?

I wish to speak with Miss Lefebvre please.

- Mademoiselle Lefebvre.

- Yes?

Mademoiselle Lefebvre, there is

a Dr Fassbender on the telephone for you.

Tell him I've gone to South America.

But I'm going to Chateau Chantelle.

Oh, oh, yes.

I understand. Of course, of course.

Thank you, thank you. Goodbye.

Anna!

Anna!

I have to go to Chateau Chantelle for the

weekend. There's an analyst's convention.

But the convention was last week,

Fritz, at Arles.

That was the Freudian convention,

this is the Jungian one.

Anyway, didn't you tell me

you had a Women's Auxiliary singsong?

But I wanted you to listen

to my lines and cue me.

Cue yourself. What am I,

an automatic cueing machine?

Get away from me! I hate you!

I hate all of you. I'll kill you the next time

you come near me saying things like that.

- Where are you going?

- I'm going away. Don't forget to wash.

Bye.

Ah, hello, Victor, you're late.

Rehearsal is over.

How would you like to love

a very attractive short man?

Certainly not. Bye.

It's too bad because...

I have a sports car now.

- You have what?

- A red sports car.

- Oh, that's great.

- Wanna go for a drive?

- I would love to. Come on, hurry.

- Where we gonna go?

I know a nice little place

called Chateau Chantelle.

- Yes?

- Michael...

- Can I help you?

- Are you the maid?

- In a way.

- Is Michael in?

No. He is at Chateau Chantelle

for the weekend.

Chateau Chantelle?

May I ask...

who are you?

- I'm his fiance.

- His what?

I'm his fianc-e.

We're going away next week.

We're going to be married.

# Here I am

# Here I stay

- Good afternoon.

- Good afternoon.

- Might I ask where you came from?

- I fell from the sky!

I'm a parachutist and I missed my mark.

- Where are you going?

- Chateau Chantelle.

- May I use your telephone?

- By all means.

Usually I'm fantastic at hitting my target.

Bonjour? My name is Michael James.

- Oh, yes, sir.

- And I'm from Chic.

Room La du Barry. Upstairs and all

the way down, the far end of the hall.

I'd like this washed and pressed.

No starch.

- No starch.

- No starch.

Fell out the sky, mate.

Parachuting's a funny recreation for a girl.

Now, if you were a fella...

I can understand pottery or flower

arrangement or needlework or knitting.

It helps sublimate my sexual tensions.

It's either that or promiscuity.

Ah. La la-la.

Make your phone call.

I'm sure the club is anxious to know

the whereabouts of their little lost sheep.

Geronimo.

It's not fair.

Can't I tell you about

my experience in free-falling?

No, because I am here on a job and,

also, I'm going to marry the girl I love.

So, put that away, powder your nose

and make your phone call

and I shall go for a brisk six-mile trot.

Please send up some champagne

and five dozen oysters.

Philippe? Did you get the feeling

that we were followed on the road?

- So what?

- We'll take two separate rooms.

I'll meet you in yours. Prepare.

- Michael!

- Hello.

- What are you doing here?

- Me? Doing here... me...

- Looking for you.

- But I thought you couldn't make it.

Oh, I couldn't make it...

and then I could make it.

And I, um, telephoned your house

and you weren't there... were you?

No. I decided to come alone.

That's exactly what I thought, and now

we can be together, uh, like we planned.

Yes, we can. We can be together.

Why don't I go up to my room, freshen up,

and we can meet here again for a drink.

Right. And I'll freshen up

and we can meet in the bar

all fresh and washed and rinsed.

- In ten minutes?

- Roger and out.

Oh, my God.

- How many gallons?

- Five gallons.

Do you know what's going on

at Chateau Chantelle?

- Orgy.

- Orgy?

Hey!

My readers will be fascinated

to learn about this place.

Now, all the rooms are

named after famous lovers?

Is there any goings-on going on?

I wouldn't mention any names but could

you tell me about your typical clientele?

- My typical clientele?

- Typical clientele.

All the people that are here now

are typical clientele.

Really?

There is a man cheating

on his wife in room Lola Montez.

Oh.

There is a woman cheating

on her two husbands in Carlota.

Two lovers, of indeterminate sex,

in Reine Margot.

And two men cheating in Don Juan.

One might say that

the joint was, uh, jumping.

Yes, sir. All?

We make more money

in the off season than any other time.

And now you, monsieur, with a woman

parachutist. For us, is the first time.

Yes, but I'm as innocent

as a newborn babe.

Etienne, the gentleman

in Marquis De Sade

asks for 12 loaves of bread

and one Boy Scout's uniform.

All.

I want to speak with my wife. My wife.

Ma femme! Une femme,

ma femme! Oh! Ma femme!

Ma femme!

Philippe? Oh! Michael!

Oh, it's you!

I beg your body... Forgive me!

My husband has followed me here.

If he catches me he'll cut your throat.

My throat...? My... b...? Your what?

My husband. I didn't bring it up

because I thought it would complicate...

Listen. You must help me. My future

in-laws are here and they think I'm alone.

And this lady fell from the sky

and she's gorgeous and you're gorgeous.

And they'll tell Carole.

Cos her mother's a killer, she's a shark.

We're getting married next week

and she's... nibbling my ear...

Oh, my gawd.

It's a shame.

But you must leave immediately!

It's all right.

I'm due back at the asylum.

- Oh! He's coming!

- Who's coming!

- My husband! Quick, in the hamper!

- What?

The hamper!

- Are you all right?

- Of course.

- Sorry about the way things turned out.

- 1955. A good year for brain concussions.

I shall be cheerfully refunded if you'll

excuse my bellicose pomposity...

I'm glad you're back, I think he's coming

to. Would you help me with my zipper?

- My zipper!

- Oh, surely.

Listen. I do not wish

to be involved in your marriages.

If you're afraid...

Oh, look at the state... call the police.

They have a very firm policy

towards murderers.

Now, thank you, good night,

and all good things come to an end.

What is going on?

Michael!

Michael, please come back.

Oh! Oh, uh...

- Herr Professor.

- Miss Lefebvre.

What are you doing here?

Guess what I've got on?

- My hat.

- You're right.

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