Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie directed by Peter Greenaway and starring Michael Gambon, Helen Mirren, Tim Roth, yadda yadda.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Cook, The Thief, His Wive, and Her Lover. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover Script


 

                   

(Dogs barking)



 

                   

(Hollow banging)



 

                   

(Tyres screech)



 

                   

(Dogs barking)



 

                   

(Men talking, indistinct)



 

                   

(Man) Go and get the dogs.



 

                   

(Man) Oome on, then. Mews!



 

                   

Oome on, now. Open your mouth.

Open your mouth, eh?



 

                   

Learn to appreciate your food, eh?



  

                   

Oompared to what you serve up

in that dirty little canteen of yours,



  

                   

- this is a three-star supper.

- (Gasping)



  

                   

You must learn the rules.



  

                   

I need to eat and drink the very best

and that's expensive.



  

                   

Have you ever heard of

chicken â la reine Marie



  

                   

or oyster sauce mornay



  

                   

or frogs' legs Parisienne?



  

                   

No. Oourse you haven't.



  

                   

Take his pants down! Take his pants down.



  

                   

(Dogs whimpering)



  

                   

(Men shouting)



  

                   

(Man) Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.



  

                   

Didn't your daddy teach you

to wipe your bottom? Eh?



  

                   

(Woman) Albert! Leave him alone.



  

                   

- Oome on, let's eat.

- Oh, let's eat.



  

                   

Before we eat, Georgina,

we must feed and water the animals.



  

                   

Roy! This is my wife, Georgina Spica.



  

                   

She's got a heart of gold and a body to match.



  

                   

I am Albert Spica and I have a heart of gold

and a great deal of money to match.



  

                   

And you are Roy, who's got absolutely nothing,

except what you owe me.



  

                   

You are humiliated in front of a lady,

you're humiliated in front of us.



  

                   

Georgina, I'll be as quick as I possibly can.



  

                   

Gah... You, go and get me some hot water, eh?

And a towel and soap.



  

                   

Now...



  

                   

Yeah. (Laughs)



  

                   

Now I've given you a good dinner

and you can have a nice drink.



  

                   

Now, you behave yourself in future

and pay when I ask you.



  

                   

- No, no, no...

- Or next time I'll make you eat your own shit



  

                   

after forcing it through your dick like toothpaste.



  

                   

No, put that away, Spangler.

Oor blimey, there's a lady present.



  

                   

She doesn't want to see

your shrivelled contributions.



  

                   

Ah.



  

                   

That's it. Thank you very much. Nice, clean...



  

                   

Give me that towel!



  

                   

Give me that. Yeah.



  

                   

I never liked that Ohinese food

but looking at you now, I like it even less.



  

                   

(Laughing) Righto, boys!



  

                   

We must surprise Richard on our anniversary.



  

                   

Bring the letters.



  

                   

Georgie, you got ash on your tits.

If you're gonna wear black, don't smoke.



  

                   

- You look like a tart in black.

- (Georgina) It's blue.



  

                   

It's black, and don't smoke. It's sloppy in a woman.



  

                   

No one who's going to eat smokes.



  

                   

It ruins your taste buds, burns your tongue

and makes your pee stink.



  

                   

- Rubbish.

- It's not bloody rubbish.



  

                   

I've smelt the loo

after you've been piddling in there.



  

                   

When are you gonna learn, smartarse?



  

                   

(Boy soprano) # Have mercy upon me #



  

                   

(Albert) Oome on, hurry up, boys.



  

                   

#... upon me #



  

                   

Righto, lads, get them numbers up there -

Spica & Boarst.



  

                   

# Blot out my transgressions



  

                   

# Purge me with hyssop



  

                   

# And I shall be clean



  

                   

# Wash me



  

                   

# Wash me



  

                   

# And I shall be whiter than snow #



  

                   

(Albert) Where's Richard?



  

                   

- He's plucking.

- He's plucking, eh? Richard!



  

                   

Where are you?

Stop that plucking. Where are you?



  

                   

Now what's that? A-S-P...



  

                   

That's nonsense. Spell it right, for Ohrist's sake.



  

                   

Bloody hell. Richard! Rich... Ah!



  

                   

There you are, Richard. Now...



  

                   

Leave that out and come and see

what I've got you, eh?



  

                   

I've brought you a present.

This is our anniversary.



  

                   

Three months of mutual understanding,

eh, Richard?



  

                   

Three months since I first invited you

to be my favourite restaurateur.



  

                   

(French accent) Mr Spica, this is a duck.



  

                   

Ducks are born with the feathers on



  

                   

but it's your dinner, Mr Spica.



  

                   

If you want the feathers to remain,

we could try the dish,



  

                   

I suppose, by leaving the feathers as they are.



  

                   

Oanard en ses plumes torche.



  

                   

Mitchel, you mule.



  

                   

'Ere, Richard, come and see, come on.



  

                   

Please, I beg you. Ha! Oome on.



  

                   

Georgina, how many times have I told you?

No smoking in the kitchen.



  

                   

- Mitchel, get your arse down here quick. Oome on.

- (Oook shouting)



  

                   

Now, Richard, this is your... well, our new sign.



  

                   

# Da-da-da-da-da-da! #



  

                   

- Wallop!

- (Oheering and applause)



  

                   

(Albert) Oh, God!



  

                   

Richard.



  

                   

- It's dark in the restaurant.

- Yes, Phillipe.



  

                   

Thanks to Mr Spica's generosity,

it is dark everywhere.



  

                   

No power, no light.



  

                   

- Were you thinking of a cold buffet tonight?

- (Albert) But I don't want a cold buffet.



  

                   

- Paté d'alouettes with a chicory sauce.

- Paté d'alouettes with a chicory sauce.



  

                   

- Terrine de caneton.

- Terrine de canton.



   

                   

- Oold turkey with lemon and basilica.

- Oold turkey with the lemon and basilica.



   

                   

Anchovies in garlic vinegar.



   

                   

It doesn't have to be cold,

you've got gas, for God's sake!



   

                   

(Wolf whistle)



   

                   

(Mews) Got an arse on her

like two greased watermelons in a sack.



   

                   

(Richard) Oold chicken, paté d'alouettes,



   

                   

salade de langoustine,

gâteau de carottes et Gruyére...



   

                   

You. You put them electrics right, Mitchel.

Put them electrics right or...



   

                   

(Richard) You don't eat.



   

                   

You don't eat.



   

                   

I told you not to smoke.



   

                   

I should stand still, Mr Spica. Or who knows?



   

                   

You might spoil something,

put your foot in something.



   

                   

So, a hot meal for tonight.

Something special, please. How about some...



   

                   

some, er, les oh d'oeuvres, er, gâteau au poivres,



   

                   

er, terrine et fillet lamb et poison au er, poi, poi...



   

                   

- It's "poisson".

- What did you say, Georgie?



   

                   

What did you say? What did you say?



   

                   

Poisson.



   

                   

(Oheering)



   

                   

(Whistling)



   

                   

- Well, Mr Spica, I hope you are hungry.

- Always. Get in there, boys.



   

                   

Go on, Georgie, go in there,

raise your skirts and warm my seat. (Laughs)



   

                   

Eh, what do you think then, eh? What do you...?



   

                   

(Orockery smashes)



   

                   

If you spent as much money

on the meal, Mr Spica,



   

                   

as you waste on the decor,



   

                   

your taste in good food must surely improve.



   

                   

(Dogs barking)



   

                   

(Albert) You'll cheek me once too often, Boarst.

You rely on me, don't forget.



   

                   

Without me, you, a foreigner,

you wouldn't last long around here.



   

                   

Look out there, see what I've brought you.



   

                   

Two vans full of good stuff,

just right for your kitchen.



   

                   

- (Richard) I would not touch it.

- (Albert) Why on earth not?



   

                   

I insist on buying my own food, Mr Spica.



   

                   

Then I can be sure of its quality.



   

                   

I represent quality round here,

my name is known for it.



   

                   

I offer quality and protection.



   

                   

Protection against what,

I wonder, Mr Spica? And whom?



   

                   

Protection, Boarst,

against the rash temper of my men.



   

                   

Against a sudden arrival of food poisoning.



   

                   

Against rats. Against the public health inspector.



   

                   

(Richard) If you are hungry tonight,

you are going to have to wait.



   

                   

Do up the third button

of your expensive jacket, Mr Spica.



   

                   

You'll feel less empty inside, Mr Spica.



   

                   

You can't make me wait.



   

                   

(Boy soprano) # Deliver me



   

                   

# From blood-guiltiness



   

                   

# O God



   

                   

# My tongue shall sing aloud



   

                   

# Of Thy righteousness



   

                   

# Have mercy upon me



   

                   

# Blot out my transgressions



   

                   

# O Lord, open Thou my lips



   

                   

# And my mouth



   

                   

# Shall show forth Thy praise



   

                   

# And my mouth



   

                   

# Shall show forth Thy praise



   

                   

# And my mouth



   

                   

# Shall show forth Thy praise



   

                   

# And my mouth



   

                   

# Shall show forth Thy praise #



   

                   

No, you don't eat it like that! Let me show you.



   

                   

Oh. Imagine you are sucking

the little fingers of a lady or...



   

                   

No, you'd never get that close to a lady.

Who'd wanna get that close to you?



   

                   

- I wouldn't be interested in her fingers.

- I'd expect you to say that.



   

                   

You'd just whip it in, whip it out

and wipe it on yourjacket.



   

                   

Look at yourjacket, it's like a pig field.



   

                   

And your nails could do with a clean. Show me.



   

                   

Gawd. Why can't I have some bloody quality

in my associates?



   

                   

From now on, anyone not properly dressed

for dinner will pay for it.



   

                   

I'll write lessons down for you.

Georgina can type them out.



   

                   

"Notes For Gourmets". That's French

for a good eater, isn't it, Boarst? (Belches)



   

                   

- Gourmets don't belch.

- On the contrary, on the contrary. They do.



   

                   

It shows that you are enjoying a meal.



   

                   

Not with your fingers, Spangler!

That's all you understand -



   

                   

things you eat with your hands

whilst walking down the street.



   

                   

You told Mews to eat the celery with his fingers.



   

                   

That's different, you dope.

And it's asparagus, not celery.



   

                   

What's the point of sinking thousands

into a restaurant if you refuse to eat properly?



   

                   

- Tell him, Georgina.

- Tell him what?



   

                   

Just copy Georgina. She knows how to do it.

Oory, get Richard in here.



   

                   

I want my sign fixed up

and put on that wall over the kitchen door.



   

                   

If Richard was more interested in slogans,

he'd make more money, eh?



   

                   

- This place is too dark.

- (Belches)



   

                   

Oould do with a respray. Gold, it needs more gold.



   

                   

How about gold and blue?



   

                   

What do you think, Henry?

      should do it - two months' takings.



   

                   

You should get in there.

Boarst's prices are all over the place.



   

                   

His head's in the clouds. Good cook. Brilliant cook!



   

                   

Except he puts mushrooms on everything.

Henry, put that cigarette out.



   

                   

Do you mind if I eat whilst you smoke?



   

                   

Gordon choked on a cigarette whilst eating -

burnt his epiglottis.



   

                   

Mitchel, you've got one.

And you don't keep it in your trousers.



   

                   

You don't put orange rind on the edge

of your plate, it goes there, you dolt!



   

                   

What you've got to realise is that

a clever cook puts unlikely things together



   

                   

like duck and orange, like pineapple and ham.



   

                   

It's called artistry.



   

                   

I'm an artist, the way I combine

my business and my pleasure.



   

                   

Money's my business, eating's my pleasure.



   

                   

And Georgie's my pleasure too,

though in a more private kind of way



   

                   

than stuffing the mouth and feeding the sewers.



   

                   

Though the pleasures are related,



   

                   

because the naughty bits and the dirty bits

are so close together



   

                   

that itjust goes to show

how eating and sex are related.



   

                   

Georgie's naughty bits

are nicely related, aren't they?



   

                   

Especially when she's

paying me attention. Georgie.



   

                   

(Gasps)



   

                   

(Albert) Get Phillipe! In future, I want my napkins

folded at home, Georgina. Get Adele to teach you.



   

                   

Spangler, get up and get Phillipe.



   

                   

Bring Richard here,

I've got to make him a proposition.



   

                   

Get Adele to get that water

with the angostura bitters in it



   

                   

and some lemon in the water

and a bowl of ice water for me fingers...



   

                   

Henry! Give me those glasses off that table.

And the flowers.



   

                   

This should look the most important table here.



   

                   

I like a load of glasses around, it highers the tone.



   

                   

- What's that?

- For Madame Spica, compliments of the house.



   

                   

She's no Madame. Why haven't I got one?



   

                   

- I doubt, Mr Spica, if you'll like it.

- Try me.



   

                   

We have grown accustomed

to you being a conservative eater.



   

                   

That's not true. I'm as adventurous as the next.



   

                   

Your wife has an excellent palate, Mr Spica.



   

                   

It is always a pleasure for us to serve her.



   

                   

(Albert) I want one of those hot, damp towels,

Richard, served to me with tongs.



   

                   

Adele is no good with cash and figures.

She's just decorative, all lips and tits.



   

                   

- We'll replace her.

- (Mitchel) Oan I do the replacing?



   

                   

Stuff your mouth, Mitchel. Every time you open it,

you just show how vulgar you can be.



   

                   

(Albert) Georgina! Welcome back.



   

                   

Did you wipe the seat

before you parked your bum? (Laughs)



   

                   

You never know what you can catch these days.

Every toilet seat is a minefield.



   

                   

That's for you. Richard thought I might like

to taste it, personal compliments of the chef.



   

                   

Eat it. I didn't fancy it, it smelt off.



   

                   

Iris got a canker on her bum

from sitting on a loo seat.



   

                   

The mechanic across the road poured

battery acid down the WO to clear it.



   

                   

Some of it splashed on the seat.

Iris ran screaming into the street,



   

                   

her backside hissing.



   

                   

She hasn't been the same since.



   

                   

She strips the same

but never with her back to the audience.



   

                   

She had to change her act.

Now it's more full-frontal.



   

                   

- Where are you going?

- I left my lighter in the toilet.



   

                   

- Gawd's sake. You don't need it.

- I need it.



   

                   

Richard, I'm going to ban smoking in here.

Tomorrow, the signs are going up.



   

                   

You want to thicken your French accent

up a bit, mate,



   

                   

like you've just come over from Paris.



   

                   

Give them a bit of that ooh-la-la stuff.

Bit more of that "parlez-vous français?"



   

                   

Then you would not understand me, Mr Spica.



   

                   

I don't know. I've always been able

to understand French letters.



   

                   

(Laughter)



   

                   

(Door opens)



   

                   

(Water running)



   

                   

(Door opens)



   

                   

Georgina!



   

                   

What the hell are you doing in here?



   

                   

Georgina?



   

                   

You've been in here for ages.

What are you doing, having a baby?



   

                   

I'm, er, I'm just...



   

                   

- I'm just having a quiet smoke.

- Smoke?



   

                   

You know how you hate me smoking at the table.



   

                   

Gawd's sake, Georgina.



   

                   

Why tell me lies about a lost lighter?



   

                   

(Georgina) I didn't, I left it here

on the ledge in front of the mirror.



   

                   

I'll be out in a few moments.



   

                   

Don't hang around the ladies,

you'll embarrass the customers.



   

                   

Show me the lighter.



   

                   

(Georgina) There.



   

                   

Do you want a cigarette as well?



   

                   

Don't be so bloody stupid.



   

                   

What are you doing in there,

Georgina, eh? (Laughs)



   

                   

You playing with yourself?



   

                   

That's not allowed, that's my property.

You're not allowed to fiddle with it.



   

                   

- Shut up, Albert.

- Let me in, I'll show you how to wipe yourself.



   

                   

Go away. I'll be out in a minute.



   

                   

Well, don't be long.



   

                   

I'll order you some gâteau aux poivres.



   

                   

Some profiteroles.



   

                   

And wash your hands.



   

                   

You don't know the women who use this place.



   

                   

- (Door closes)

- (Sighs)



   

                   

(Toilet flushes)



   

                   

(Sighs quietly)



   

                   

You took your time.



   

                   

I thought you'd like me to wait for you.



   

                   

You smell nice and sweaty.



   

                   

Wash your hands, I'll give you a kiss.



   

                   

(Water running)



   

                   

You know what they say about men

who hang around ladies' lavatories?



   

                   

What do they say about men

who hang around ladies' lavatories?



   

                   

- They're asking to have their illusions shattered.

- Yeah.



   

                   

You hold no illusions for me, Georgie, eh?



   

                   

No stone's been left unturned.



   

                   

Look, just go order my profiteroles, will you?



   

                   

Oome on.



   

                   

Oome on.



   

                   

(Laughter)



   

                   

I think these Ethiopians like starving.



   

                   

It keeps them slim and graceful, with those

big heads and dreamy eyes. You know those kids.



   

                   

- (Georgina) You're sick.

- (Albert) I might well be if you're being so priggish.



   

                   

(Woman) What do you know, Georgina, about

the starving? You can have anything you want.



   

                   

- Where you been? You're late.

- It's Friday night. There's a lot of money about.



   

                   

A decent man needs gloves to touch this stuff.

Let's have a look.



   

                   

That's just what this restaurant needs.



   

                   

- Start laying them out.

- (Belches)



   

                   

What's the matter, Mitchel?

Don't you like mussels?



   

                   

You got to learn to like them

if you're going to eat with me.



   

                   

Don't you dare throw up in here!



   

                   

Or I'll get Spangler to stuff 'em

back down your throat.



   

                   

(Oory) From the Malay restaurant.

The food poisoning scared them, they're paying up.



   

                   

I'm sure they don't need our assistance with that.



   

                   

That stuff they eat,

they'd poison themselves with it.



   

                   

Some of them Indians are well known

for drinking their own pee.



   

                   

The same water would go round and round.



   

                   

Of course, you're bound to lose some

through evaporation.



   

                   

Then you'd have to top it up.

Whose pee would you drink first?



   

                   

- Erm...

- Me, I'd have a ready supply, wouldn't I?



   

                   

Georgie and I have our little sessions when we...



   

                   

Good God, what have you got there?



   

                   

Even you are getting compliments

from the chef, are you?



   

                   

Being a guinea pig

for a Boarst experiment, are we?



   

                   

Good God, looks like, er,

food for constipated French rabbits.



   

                   

Albert, why don't you order me some chianti?

You know I like chianti.



   

                   

In the bottle with the wrapping around it.



   

                   

Then I can take it home and hang it on the wall.



   

                   

- Grace, haven't you got enough of them already?

- No.



   

                   

Where the hell are you going?



   

                   

- To the toilet.

- You haven't had anything to drink yet.



   

                   

She's got a bladder like a leaky marrow.

Don't be long!



   

                   

- You've upset her.

- Rubbish.



   

                   

Don't be long! You're so talkative tonight,

we couldn't stand the silence without you.



   

                   

Wash your hands!



   

                   

- Questo, questo.

- Oazzo.



   

                   

Dove hai imparato a cucinare? È velenoso.



   

                   

Vieni qua.



   

                   

That's off!



   

                   

Uh.



   

                   

- This custard's salty.

- It is sauce Hollandaise.



   

                   

Oan I help you, Mr Spica?



   

                   

I've come about

those special complimentary dishes.



   

                   

In future, all the guests at my table

shall receive them.



   

                   

Why is my fish taking so long?



   

                   

You can carry it in yourself, if you like, Mr Spica.



   

                   

- What are you looking for?

- Nothing. You bring it.



   

                   

- (Richard) You would not be looking for your wife?

- No, of course not.



   

                   

Mr Spica, I have something to show you.



   

                   

- What is this?

- New cutlery. Give your restaurant some style.



   

                   

I brought in     sets.

My men are just re-laying the tables.



   

                   

Not very good quality, Mr Spica.



   

                   

You could use them at home, Mr Spica.



   

                   

All     of them.



   

                   

Where have you been? Wiping your bum?



   

                   

Did you use your left hand like I showed you?



   

                   

Where'd you get this stuff, Mews?

It's rubbish, falling apart.



   

                   

Take 'em back. Get a    %% refund. God.



   

                   

What are you eating, Georgie? Not much.



   

                   

Ha! I see others here

get the same special attentions.



   

                   

What is it? Looks like

some sort of... watery salade.



   

                   

That's not up to much.



   

                   

Expensive, no doubt, but not fattening.



   

                   

You've got to keep your strength up,

you're looking peaky.



   

                   

Kidneys, liver, iron, that's what you need.



   

                   

Do you know a cow drinks

its own weight in water twice a week?



   

                   

For milk, you see,

because a cow's got great big tits.



   

                   

Just like you, eh, Georgie?



   

                   

You gentlemen will have to take it

for granted because



   

                   

for some reason best known to herself,



   

                   

she's left her bra off.



   

                   

Have you, Oory, ever tasted human milk?



   

                   

I mean recently. All them years ago don't count.



   

                   

You couldn't really appreciate

what you were enjoying then, could you?



   

                   

I bet human milk's a great delicacy

in some countries. It ought to be here.



   

                   

Do you know, Oory, who could supply us

with some human milk?



   

                   

(Spangler) Warm, straight from the receptacle,

so to speak?



   

                   

Don'tjoke! It's a precious commodity,

not a joking matter!



   

                   

Georgie wouldn'tjoke about it, would you?



   

                   

Would you, Georgie?



   

                   

Ah. You're a credit to women. You could show

these young women a thing or two.



   

                   

You could teach these young men

a thing or two. Take Mitchel.



   

                   

On second thoughts, don't,

cos he's a crude little bugger.



   

                   

- Then how come you haven't got any kids?

- Kids?



   

                   

Who needs kids? Who wants kids?



   

                   

I want kids.



   

                   

We'll have kids one day, won't we, eh?



   

                   

When you're bloody old and grey, most like!



   

                   

Yeah. Your trouble is you don't eat properly.



   

                   

You should drink more water and eat more kidneys



   

                   

and then you might bloody well have

a bloody baby someday.



   

                   

Georgie doesn't like babies, do you?



   

                   

You know, sometimes, Georgie,

I think you behave like a bloke.



   

                   

What days are those, then, Albert?



   

                   

- What's it like?

- You what?



   

                   

Get away from this table, you mucky little wimp!



   

                   

Go and eat your vegetable soup in the kitchen,

you dirty little pervert!



   

                   

Go on, get on with your eating, eh?



   

                   

It's only Mitchel making a fool of himself.



   

                   

Now, stand in the corner.

Oory, make him a paper hat.



   

                   

Stand in the corner like a naughty little boy.



   

                   

Stand there. Take your knife and fork with you.



   

                   

- Don't be stupid.

- Do you want to join him?



   

                   

Leave him alone. He's only copying you

like he always does. You behave, he'll behave.



   

                   

- I'm leaving.

- Yes, we are leaving.



   

                   

Gracie, here. Pay the bill and take a taxi.



   

                   

Yeah. Georgie and I might go for a little drive.



   

                   

It's our wedding anniversary tomorrow.



   

                   

Might drive down to the sea,



   

                   

have some fun under the pier like we used to.



   

                   

Oops. I am sorry.



   

                   

Still, this isn't a library, it's a restaurant.



   

                   

They got people for that.



   

                   

Richard.



   

                   

This needs cooking.

Grill it with some mashed peas.



   

                   

(Mutters in French)



   

                   

(Boy soprano) # Wash me thoroughly



   

                   

# From my iniquity



   

                   

# And cleanse me... #



   

                   

What's a young lad like you doing

washing dishes?



   

                   

That's woman's work,

ain't you got what it takes? Hey!



   

                   

My God, armour plating.

You protect yourself, son, you need it.



   

                   

Innocence. That's what I had before I met Georgie.



   

                   

- That's just what they want.

- Albert. Oome on, you're drunk.



   

                   

- Oome on!

- Shall I sing for you?



   

                   

- What?

- Albert, come on, he's only a child.



   

                   

Sing for me, yes. Yes, you can sing for me.



   

                   

Get up there. You sing, yeah.



   

                   

I was a good singer when I was a little boy,

wasn't I, Georgie?



   

                   

Oome on, now. You sing to me. Eh?



   

                   

Oome on. Sing, damn you!



   

                   

# Wash me thoroughly



   

                   

- # From my iniquity

- (Albert laughs)



   

                   

- # And cleanse... #

- You can't keep it up, can you? No.



   

                   

I was a choirboy once.



   

                   

Yes. Women like choirboys.



   

                   

I was almost a choirboy when I met Georgie.



   

                   

But you spoilt all that, didn't you?



   

                   

Georgie was a very good education,

she could teach a young man anything.



   

                   

Oome on, Georgie, show the young boy

what you showed me.



   

                   

- Albert.

- Go on, show the little boy...



   

                   

- Albert!

- You do what I tell you, will you?



   

                   

You come out in that car park with me,

both of you. Oome on.



   

                   

Out in the car park. Oome on.



   

                   

I'll give you the best education,

show you what a great teacher Georgie can be.



   

                   

- (Boy whimpering)

- Don't touch him!



   

                   

(Georgina) Leave him alone.

(Albert) I'll show you what a great teacher...



   

                   

Oh, I see. So I'm not supposed to do that?

I'll give you an education.



   

                   

- Albert, please leave him alone.

- Oh, no.



   

                   

- Stand there and don't you move.

- (Dogs barking)



   

                   

- Just leave him be.

- Watch this.



   

                   

- No. Wait till we get home, Albert.

- Georgie. Georgie, come here.



   

                   

Right. What's all this?

You're not wearing any bloody knickers.



   

                   

You've been sitting in that restaurant

with no knickers on?



   

                   

With Oory and Mitchel and all those people?

What's this mean?



   

                   

Where are they? Give them to me at once.



   

                   

Go on. Look at this.

Get in that car, you dirty whore.



   

                   

Why don't you take everything off?



   

                   

- Get in there. Go on! Get in that car!

- (Georgina gasping)



   

                   

- Now you! You get in there as well.

- No!



   

                   

- Go on. Get in there. Get in.

- No! Please!



   

                   

- No! No! No!

- Get in there! Get in.



   

                   

Aah! Ah!



   

                   

- (Albert) Right...

- (Glass smashes)



   

                   

(Georgina screaming) No!



   

                   

# Wash me thoroughly



   

                   

# From my iniquity



   

                   

# And cleanse me from my sins



   

                   

# Have mercy upon me... #



   

                   

I have two minutes.



   

                   

# Purge me with hyssop



   

                   

# And I shall be



   

                   

# Olean



   

                   

# Wash me



   

                   

# Wash me



   

                   

# And I shall be whiter than snow



   

                   

# Make me to hear



   

                   

- # Thy joy and gladness #

- (Glasses reverberate)



   

                   

# That the bones



   

                   

# That Thou hast broken may rejoice #



   

                   

Do you know, Mitchel, what prairie oysters are?



   

                   

Fish.



   

                   

So if someone feeds you a prairie oyster,

what would you be eating?



   

                   

Fish. Like from the lakes and that. They're the...



   

                   

The clams with the little pearls in.



   

                   

Prairie oysters would be very precious

to their owners. No.



   

                   

No, look. Imagine...



   

                   

Just imagine that this is a prairie oyster.



   

                   

Now, go on. Eat that. Go on.

Put it in your mouth. Go on. Go on.



   

                   

Now, what's it taste like?



   

                   

- Wet bread.

- No.



   

                   

It's all squishy with gritty bits in it.



   

                   

That's the sand.



   

                   

That's the sand. You're a comic.



   

                   

No, you mule. It's got a skin round it.



   

                   

- Do you spit the skin out?

- No.



   

                   

Pick it out of your teeth afterwards, chump it up.



   

                   

Now, swallow that, go on, swallow it. Swallow it.



   

                   

Go on, that's right.



   

                   

Now, Mitchel, you have just eaten

a sheep's bollock.



   

                   

The next time I ask you to work for me, Mitchel,



   

                   

I'll be expecting you to chew

someone's bollocks off on demand.



   

                   

Oh, you're back.



   

                   

What do you find in that toilet that's so fascinating?

I'll go and have a pee and a look.



   

                   

What have they got since I was last in there?

Velvet seats, dirty pictures? Hah.



   

                   

Free perfume? A private drinks bar?



   

                   

Oor, what a disgusting smell in here!



   

                   

Must be the pigs using it, eh? How disgusting it is.



   

                   

Ha! Urgh, how horrible. Disgusting.



   

                   

Revolting place, needs airing out. What's this?



   

                   

Gaw, phwoar, phwoar...



   

                   

Look. "There was a young man from Uckinham

who got caught while he was..."



   

                   

That is disgusting!

People ought to be locked up for that.



   

                   

Absolutely appalling. Not what I'm used to at all.



   

                   

It's disgraceful. Don't you reckon, don't you think?



   

                   

Yes. God.



   

                   

- 'Ere, what are you looking at?

- What are you talking about?



   

                   

Don't pretend. You're waiting

for my young associates, aren't you?



   

                   

A man ought to be able to piss

without harassment.



   

                   

- How dare you? I'm getting the manager.

- I am the manager.



   

                   

And you are out on the street.

Oaught loitering in a toilet.



   

                   

- Ow!

- Yeah.



   

                   

That's what these people need.

Short, sharp, shock treatment.



   

                   

Hello. What are you doing? Reading again?



   

                   

This is not a library. The only thing

you're allowed to read in here is the menu.



   

                   

You are insulting the chef.



   

                   

Reading gives you indigestion,

didn't you know that?



   

                   

Don't read at the table.



   

                   

I've just been reading stuff to make your hair curl.



   

                   

Out there, in the toilet.



   

                   

That's the sort of stuff people read, not this.



   

                   

Don't you feel out of touch?



   

                   

Does this stuff make money?



   

                   

You know, I bet you're

the only man who's read this book.



   

                   

But I bet you every man here

has read that stuff out there.



   

                   

It makes you think, doesn't it?



   

                   

You know, I reckon you read

because you got nobody to talk to.



   

                   

I tell you what. So you shouldn't eat alone,

why don't you come and join us?



   

                   

Oome and meet my wife.



   

                   

(Laughs) She's seen you.

I know she's sorry for you sitting here all alone.



   

                   

She likes to read too.

She spends hours sitting on the bed reading.



   

                   

She even reads on the john.



   

                   

This is Oory.



   

                   

This is Mitchel. He can't read, can you, Mitchel?



   

                   

- Yes, I can.

- Yeah. Oomics and dirty magazines.



   

                   

And this is Georgina. She is my wife.



   

                   

What's your name?



   

                   

- Michael.

- Well, Michael. Is that a Jewish name, Michael?



   

                   

Do you eat kosher food, Michael? Sit down,

Michael, and tell us all about kosher food, Michael.



   

                   

- I'm sorry but I'm not Jewish.

- Why hide it?



   

                   

  %% of the people in this restaurant

are a touch Jewish, Michael.



   

                   

Richard, set another place for Michael.



   

                   

He is Jewish, so maybe you could find him

some spare ribs. No pork.



   

                   

He won't need those.

We're going to hold a conversation, aren't we?



   

                   

You can start, Georgie.

Tell Michael all about yourself.



   

                   

- I'm sure your wife would rather eat in peace.

- No. Talk, Georgina.



   

                   

Here's your chance

to improve your table conversation.



   

                   

Tell Michael you live in a big house



   

                   

and you spend £    a week on clothes.



   

                   

I spend £    a week on clothes.



   

                   

You have a petrol allowance of £   a week.



   

                   

I have a petrol allowance of £   a week,

which I never use.



   

                   

- You wear beautiful things.

- I wear beautiful things.



   

                   

- You eat in the best restaurants.

- I eat in the best restaurants.



   

                   

Georgina, try a little harder, please.



   

                   

- I go to a good hairdresser.

- Yes, the best there is.



   

                   

- I go to a good dentist.

- Yes, yeah, oh, yeah. He's Jewish.



   

                   

- I go to a good gynaecologist.

- You what?



   

                   

- Who says it's unlikely I'll ever have a baby.

- Michael doesn't want to know that.



   

                   

That the three miscarriages

have ruined my insides.



   

                   

That isn't true, Michael doesn't need to know that.



   

                   

Now, drink up, Michael, let's talk about you.

What do you do?



   

                   

I'm a gynaecologist.



   

                   

- You're a what?

- You could always come and see me.



   

                   

We don't need to discuss that subject.



   

                   

Being infertile makes me a safe bet

for a good screw.



   

                   

Shut up, Georgie!



   

                   

I must apologise for my wife, Michael.



   

                   

If you don't get back to your table,

you're in danger of losing it.



   

                   

The place gets very full about now.



   

                   

Mitchel, take Michael back to his table.

Tell him about horses.



   

                   

Oh, it's all right, Mr Spica, thank you.



   

                   

I prefer to read my book.



   

                   

Besides, I've finished. Thank you.



   

                   

Thank you for introducing me to your wife.



   

                   

I like your name.



   

                   

(Georgina) Ah.



   

                   

- What the hell do you think you're doing? Eh?

- (Knife being sharpened)



   

                   

Telling a complete stranger

intimate details about us?



   

                   

It's not about us. It's about me.



   

                   

It's about us!



   

                   

And what's all this,

how much time you spend in that loo?



   

                   

What's all this about a gynaecologist? Who is he?



   

                   

lt'd better be a she.

I don't want some bloke fingering my wife about.



   

                   

It's a man. He's Jewish.



   

                   

- And he's from Ethiopia.

- What?



   

                   

His mother is a Roman Oatholic,

he's been in prison in South Africa,



   

                   

he's as black as the ace of spades

and probably drinks his own pee.



   

                   

- Take that, you bitch!

- Oh!



   

                   

You lying, ungrateful bitch! You get in that car.



   

                   

It's the doghouse for you, you bitch.



   

                   

Bloody gynaecologist. Blasted gynaecologist.



   

                   

(Dogs barking)



   

                   

Get up. Get up.



   

                   

Get in the car, you slag.



   

                   

Get in there. Go on.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

(Dogs yelp)



   

                   

(Albert) Maiser came here.



   

                   

And Trelawny with his black lady friends

who wore peaches in their hair.



   

                   

- (Woman) Peaches?

- Imitation.



   

                   

And the Austrian brothers sat by the door -

high-wire professionals.



   

                   

Great balancers, sloppy with money.



   

                   

And Tim Tranter drank soup here

out of a cup with a straw when his jaw was broken.



   

                   

There used to be a mark up there

where Goshy Oapps threw a plate of kippers.



   

                   

- Kippers?

- Yes, kippers, for God's sake.



   

                   

(Woman) You wouldn't find kippers here.



   

                   

- They serve kippers for breakfast here.

- (Man) You've had breakfast here?



   

                   

The ferryman and his lady ate here every morning.



   

                   

The ferryman was a poofter.

And fish disagreed with him.



   

                   

- Who are all these people?

- Small-time crooks and pimps...



   

                   

Boarst painted it out.

I'll get him to paint it back again.



   

                   

...gigolos, busted boxers, cheap whores...



   

                   

(Albert) I've got the clippings at home.



   

                   

...bullies, hairdressers, faggots.



   

                   

- (Albert) Robin Hoods.

- No, just hoods.



   

                   

(Albert) You're getting very smart.

(Oory) Smart? Even his slang's out of date.



   

                   

(Albert) Now I'm the clientele,

you understand? Me.



   

                   

And Georgie here and Oory Peterson.

The coq au vin is good.



   

                   

(Man) Oock a what?

(Albert) Ohicken cooked in wine, you mule.



   

                   

- Bess Riddle lived on coq au vin.

- (Man) More of the coq than the vin.



   

                   

- (Grace laughing)

- (Albert) Starkie, there are ladies present.



   

                   

- Or there were. Where's she gone?

- Gracie's no lady, are you?



   

                   

- (Grace) She must have a bladder infection.

- She's one of us.



   

                   

(Albert) There's nothing wrong

except she disappears to the john.



   

                   

(Man) And which of the bladder infections

do you have, Starkie?



   

                   

(Man) Ladies go to the toilet, not the john.



   

                   

Real ladies don't go to the toilet,

they go to the bathroom.



   

                   

- (Mitchel) Boarst hasn't got a bathroom.

- (Albert) Shut your mouth.



   

                   

You'd pee in your pants

before you'd recognise a respectable WO.



   

                   

So, he's broken the silence for us



   

                   

and your name is Georgina.



   

                   

Yes. And don't ever call me Georgie.



   

                   

You have beautiful eyes, Georgina.



   

                   

And you have a beautiful prick, Mr Gynaecologist.



   

                   

- I have?

- Yes, whatever its racist beliefs.



   

                   

- Your husband is a curiosity.

- He is?



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

Why what?



   

                   

Why am I married to him?



   

                   

Why aren't you married?



   

                   

- How do you know I'm not?

- You're not.



   

                   

- I'm not.

- Why?



   

                   

I once saw a film in which the main character

didn't speak for the first half an hour.



   

                   

Like us? Do all the minutes we've been together

add up to half an hour?



   

                   

I was completely absorbed as to what would

happen because anything was possible.



   

                   

And then?



   

                   

He spoilt it - he spoke.



   

                   

- And?

- Within five minutes, I'd lost interest.



   

                   

So now you've opened your mouth,

do you expect me to lose interest?



   

                   

It was only a film.



   

                   

Erm, now, we've been talking for one minute.



   

                   

We've got four minutes left

before you lose interest.



   

                   

Four minutes. That's enough.



   

                   

Where's the bomb?



   

                   

He's, er... He's eating

avocado vinaigrette and prawns.



   

                   

With his fingers.



   

                   

Kiss me.



   

                   

- Your restaurant's noisy, Spica.

- It's popular on a Sunday night.



   

                   

I like a quiet restaurant, with floor shows.



   

                   

Boarst is a culinary artist, not a fancy entertainer.



   

                   

But we're here to please you, Terry.

We'll get you a floor show.



   

                   

Oory, phone Santini. Five girls - strippers.



   

                   

Make it decent, will you? My daughter's present.



   

                   

Five dancing girls with music.

Strictly no filth, only class.



   

                   

And make it quiet.

I want to keep my ears till I'm   .



   

                   

God, Terry, what sort of floor show

do you like? Mute nuns?



   

                   

If they call me Mr Fitch, I might.

I'm only Terry to my wife, Spica.



   

                   

- Like me.

- You're Terry and all, are you?



   

                   

- I'm only Albert to Georgina.

- Even when she's in the loo?



   

                   

- Shut your whore up, Oory!

- God, you're noisy, Spica.



   

                   

Makes for indigestion.

Don't you find, love? What's your name?



   

                   

Patricia, Mr Fitch.



   

                   

Are you a good dancer?

You look as if you might be a good dancer.



   

                   

We'd like to see you get up and dance, with Geoff.



   

                   

Geoff's a very good dancer.



   

                   

- There's no dancing allowed.

- I always eat at home.



   

                   

- Best place.

- No food poisoning.



   

                   

Ricky Boarst is as safe as houses.

He keeps a very clean kitchen, go and see.



   

                   

I'd like to see.



   

                   

- Mitchel, take the lady to see the kitchen.

- I'll take her myself, Spica.



   

                   

- Show me the way.

- Through that door.



   

                   

I'll call in the bathroom

and send Georgie back tout de suite.



   

                   

That means immediately.



   

                   

- Your new girlfriend's cheap, Oory.

- She's only practising her French.



   

                   

It's a French restaurant, isn't it?



   

                   

Someone's having pheasant for dinner.



   

                   

(Georgina laughs)



   

                   

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...



   

                   

We could be interrupted, um...     times.



   

                   

- What's your boyfriend paying you, Patricia?

- Paying me? He doesn't pay me.



   

                   

He buys me meals and drinks.



   

                   

- Doesn't he give you no pocket money?

- No.



   

                   

Nothing for a tuna fish sandwich

late at night or a bottle of gin



   

                   

- to make you forget what you had for lunch?

- No.



   

                   

(Sniffs) Phew, it stinks here.



   

                   

Listen, how about if...



   

                   

if I gave you some pocket money?



   

                   

What do I have to do to earn it?



   

                   

OK, here they are. Where's Fitch?



   

                   

Phillipe, clear those tables. We need more space.



   

                   

- But Mr Spica, they are eating.

- Move them.



   

                   

You are in the way of the floor show.

You're gonna have to move.



   

                   

We're in the middle of our meal.



   

                   

If you're going to eat quite quickly,

you can finish your soup.



   

                   

After all, you don't want

to get trampled on, do you?



   

                   

Hold him. Hold him.



   

                   

(Gasping, screaming)



   

                   

It's a pity you didn't take my advice.



   

                   

All that lovely food. Richard will be disappointed.



   

                   

Now, you're gonna have to eat in the kitchen

like naughty little children, eh?



   

                   

Hey, what is your name?



   

                   

What did you say? Did I hear you say William?



   

                   

Well, naughty little Willie, tiny little Willie,



   

                   

how would you like

to be spanked on your big, fat bottom?



   

                   

(Gasping)



   

                   

Seeing as you're so keen

on Richard's mushrooms, William,



   

                   

you, I'm gonna give you five, the count of five



   

                   

and I want to see you on the way to the kitchen



   

                   

or you'll be out in the street!



   

                   

Get out.



   

                   

(Shouting)



   

                   

(Screaming)



   

                   

(# Oabaret singer)



   

                   

# I am waiting, I am waiting



   

                   

# Oome up with something sometime now



   

                   

# We're only here for love... #



   

                   

- Oh, look at the time. I must go back.

- One minute more.



   

                   

- No.

-    seconds.



   

                   

(Fitch grunting)



   

                   

Oh! Oh!



   

                   

Oh. What the hell are you doing?



   

                   

I bought meself a ride. Why don't you keep still?



   

                   

Sorry, I had a surprise.



   

                   

What bloody surprises

could there be possibly left for you?



   

                   

I give up, you bitch.



   

                   

I'm sick ofjumpy whores.



   

                   

You're only worth a Fitch one star -

that ain't for looks, that's for availability.



   

                   

# I am waiting



   

                   

# I am waiting



   

                   

# Oome up with something sometime now



   

                   

# We're only here for love



   

                   

# Outside the reach of money



   

                   

# Beyond the reach of fame



   

                   

# We're not for buying or lending out... #



   

                   

Look who's just come out of the woodwork.



   

                   

# Be quick and be tight



   

                   

# And be it not and be right



   

                   

# Then be slow and... #



   

                   

- (Oory) What've you been doing?

- I've just been earning you good money.



   

                   

And I've just seen

how we can earn ourselves some more.



   

                   

# Then go #



   

                   

(Oheering, applause)



   

                   

(Hollow banging, dogs barking)



   

                   

(lnspector) We have complaints of offensive smells

from two vans on the restaurant premises.



   

                   

The restaurant denies any responsibility. Over.



   

                   

(Police radio)



   

                   

Why can't we meet somewhere else?



   

                   

That's impossible.

It's better to do it under his nose.



   

                   

He'll never believe I do it right under his nose



   

                   

between courses,



   

                   

between the hors d'oeuvres

and the canard â I'orange,



   

                   

between the dessert and the coffee.



   

                   

Besides,



   

                   

I'm learning fast



   

                   

how to cut corners, save time.



   

                   

I'm getting good at it, aren't I, Michael? Aren't I?



   

                   

Aren't I getting good at it? Aren't I?



   

                   

Aren't I getting good at it? Mm.



   

                   

Aren't I getting good at it? Oh.



   

                   

(Dogs barking, police radio)



   

                   

(Albert) Last night was bloody awful

and you're to blame, Oory.



   

                   

- Tonight you'll starve.

- I don't like the foreign muck anyway.



   

                   

Don't talk to me like that, you uneducated prat!

You couldn't organise a rape in a brothel!



   

                   

The girls were lousy, the music was lousy,

you mucked the whole thing up.



   

                   

Oouldn't keep your own girl

under control at all. Tch!



   

                   

- First she shows off...

- I didn't.



   

                   

Shut your face, who's talking to you?



   

                   

Then she goes and plays hard to get.



   

                   

I mean, if she's been with you, Oory,

how the hell can she be hard to get?



   

                   

Spangler, get us a drink, quickly.

Then she upsets Fitch in some way.



   

                   

- (Patricia) Fitch is a pig.

- Fitch has got manners.



   

                   

He was like a bear with a sore head.

Did you piss in his pants?



   

                   

Then she's giggling like a virgin

playing with a candle.



   

                   

You'll have to make it up to him.

He likes you, though you look like a bloke.



   

                   

- Perhaps he likes blokes.

- None of that homosexual talk.



   

                   

He'll remember.

Yesterday evening's got my name on it.



   

                   

I'm not going with him.

He sweats and stinks and he can't make it.



   

                   

- Shut your whore up, Oory.

- Like Georgie?



   

                   

- Shut up!

- She's a fine woman. She's never let me down.



   

                   

- You must be joking.

- Shut up, Pat!



   

                   

- She's upset.

- What do you mean, I must be joking?



   

                   

- Here. Get rid of her.

- Don't do that to a woman.



   

                   

- I do what I like to a woman.

- That's your trouble.



   

                   

No wonder Georgie looks like she does

and hates your guts.



   

                   

- What are you talking about?

- No wonder she screws around.



   

                   

- You what?

- You're so bloody blind, you'd never notice.



   

                   

- Shut up! She's raving.

- I'm not. I saw them.



   

                   

- Who?

- Georgie and that Jew.



   

                   

- What Jew?

- That bloke who sits over there, reading.



   

                   

Haven't you noticed?

They always go off to the john together.



   

                   

- You what?

- Why do you think Georgie's always in the john?



   

                   

You blind bat.

She doesn't have the shits every five minutes.



   

                   

Shit!



   

                   

(Patricia cries)



   

                   

Shh. It's all right. It's all right. Shh. Quiet.



   

                   

Shh. Shh.



   

                   

Shh.



   

                   

(Patricia sobbing)



   

                   

I'm going to the loo.



   

                   

(Gasping, screaming)



   

                   

Georgina!



   

                   

Georgina!



   

                   

Georgina, where are you, you bitch? Georgina!



   

                   

- What are you doing? Get out!

- Get out, you bitch. Georgina!



   

                   

Where are you? Get out!



   

                   

- (Screaming)

- Go on, get out!



   

                   

Where are you?



   

                   

- No, please!

- Get out of here! Get out, you...



   

                   

Please, no! Please, no!



   

                   

- Go on! Georgie!

- Please, no.



   

                   

Where are you, Georgie?



   

                   

(Ooughing, retching)



   

                   

(Flies buzzing)



   

                   

- (Shouting, pots clattering)

- (Whispering) It's over. He has found out.



   

                   

- (Albert) Georgina? Georgina!

- (Falling cutlery)



   

                   

- (Banging)

- Georgina!



   

                   

- Georgie! You get out.

- (Woman screams)



   

                   

(Orashing)



   

                   

I'll get him to leave.



   

                   

- Richard, don't get into trouble over me.

- Georgie!



   

                   

(Woman screaming)



   

                   

- Let's go and face him.

- Don't be mad. He'll kill you!



   

                   

Oome quickly. Oome with me.



   

                   

- Wait here five minutes.

- (Michael) We'll freeze to death.



   

                   

He will never look in here.

Only five minutes. I will get your clothes.



   

                   

(Albert, distant) Georgie, where are you?



   

                   

- Georgina! Georgie, where are you?

- (Glass smashing)



   

                   

Georgie. Georgie.



   

                   

You! Where is she? Where's my wife?



   

                   

- What's the matter?

- You know. Fetching her cigarettes.



   

                   

- Where's my wife?

- (Richard) Your wife is your affair.



   

                   

This is not a lost property office.



   

                   

I want my wife! Where is she?



   

                   

You! You stupid little rat.

Where's my wife? Where is she?



   

                   

If you have finished,

I'll ask you to leave the kitchen.



   

                   

- I have other diners to consider.

- Oh! Uh!



   

                   

I'm the only diner who matters here.

I own this restaurant.



   

                   

I want my wife. You've hidden her. Where is she?



   

                   

God keep me calm! Where are they?



   

                   

Georgina! Georgina!



   

                   

- Georgina! Georgina!

- Ahh!



   

                   

Georgina! Where is she, Boarst?



   

                   

Boarst, where is she? Georgie! Georgie!



   

                   

Georgie, you bitch!



   

                   

(lnspector) Hard around.



   

                   

(Dogs barking)



   

                   

Georgie! I want my wife!



   

                   

(Screaming)



   

                   

(Albert) Georgie!



   

                   

I'll bloody find her.



   

                   

I'll bloody find her.



   

                   

I'll find them. I'll bloody find them.

I knew it. Scheming tart!



   

                   

I'll bloody find them and I'll bloody kill him!



   

                   

And I'll bloody eat him!



   

                   

I'll kill him and I'll eat him!



   

                   

- I'll kill him and then I'll eat him.

- (Georgina) Oh, shit!



   

                   

- (Police radio)

- I'll eat him!



   

                   

I'll eat him!



   

                   

We can get you out.

Eden can drive you. Where do you want to go?



   

                   

I know a place.



   

                   

- What about our clothes?

- I'll get them to you. Quickly.



   

                   

Quickly. Quick.



   

                   

No. No. No, no.



   

                   

No, please. Aah! No.



   

                   

(Flies buzzing)



   

                   

(Georgina sobbing)



   

                   

(Georgina gasping)



   

                   

(Oreaking)



   

                   

What is this place?



   

                   

It's a book depository.



   

                   

When my bookshop is quiet,

I do a stocktaking job.



   

                   

I'm cataloguing French history.



   

                   

There's a kitchen and a bathroom.



   

                   

It's a bit primitive but there's an extraordinary view.



   

                   

Have you read all these books?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

It's not necessary

for the book-keeper to read all the stock.



   

                   

With a job like this, you could be very boring.



   

                   

Are we safe here?



   

                   

Does Albert read?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

If you don't read, does that make you safe?



   

                   

Only from bad books.



   

                   

You could spend a lifetime in here reading.



   

                   

You could. Two lifetimes - yours and mine.



   

                   

- Is that what I'm in for?

- No.



   

                   

What good are all these books to you?

You can't eat them.



   

                   

How can they make you happy?



   

                   

I've always found them very reasonable.



   

                   

They don't change their minds

when you're not looking.



   

                   

That sounds like a disadvantage to me.



   

                   

Kiss me.



   

                   

# Wash me thoroughly



   

                   

# From my iniquity



   

                   

# And blot out... #



   

                   

- I...

- # Blot out...



   

                   

- I think perhaps...

- # My...? #



   

                   

I think perhaps we'll leave the singing.



   

                   

Do you agree, until later, maybe?



   

                   

How is the restaurant?



   

                   

- It's all right.

- And Richard? Mr Boarst?



   

                   

He's fine.



   

                   

Is there any more trouble,



   

                   

er, like last night?



   

                   

- No, sir.

- Would you like to join us?



   

                   

No, thank you. I'll eat later with Mr Boarst.



   

                   

Enjoy your meal.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Erm, have you any other news to tell us?



   

                   

Mr Boarst says... He told me to tell you to stay put



   

                   

and he wishes you bon appétit.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

When you're finished, I'm to take the dishes back.



   

                   

Oh, if you find any of those books interesting,

you can borrow them.



   

                   

Wa-woo! Di-di-di-di-dah-da!



   

                   

(Dogs barking)



   

                   

All right, where are they? Where are they?



   

                   

- I don't know.

- You don't know?



   

                   

I don't suppose you ate all this yourself.

What have we got in here? Let's see. Ah.



   

                   

Fish sauce with mayonnaise

and a touch of basil. I like basil.



   

                   

What else we got in here? Aha.



   

                   

It's sticky. Don't tell me.

Ohocolate sauce - profiteroles.



   

                   

Georgina liked profiteroles.



   

                   

Oh, and serviettes

with Georgina's lipstick on them.



   

                   

And a nice bottle of wine. Very nice.



   

                   

He's for the chop, Richard.

I'll get my hands on him.



   

                   

Leave that bread roll alone. I need to know

where they are. Where are they? Eh?



   

                   

Ah. Ah. That's good.

Open your mouth. Oome on, open it.



   

                   

- Take an interest in your food.

- (Mews) We don't need to do this.



   

                   

- Getting squeamish?

- He's just a kid.



   

                   

- Stand him up and get his trousers down.

- Leave him alone.



   

                   

Get out. Who needs fairies like you?

And take your four-eyed cousin with you.



   

                   

See how you get on in the streets without

me to wipe your noses. Get lost! Righto.



   

                   

OK, button eater, tell me where they are.



   

                   

(Screaming)



   

                   

OK, button eater, where are they?



   

                   

We've run out of buttons.

But there is one more button.



   

                   

It's your belly button.

How'd you like to swallow that?



   

                   

- Albert!

- You still here?



   

                   

- (Shrieking)

- Well, then, watch this.



   

                   

Wake him up! Wake him up, wake him up.

I must find out where she is!



   

                   

Wake him up!



   

                   

Wake him up!



   

                   

Where are they?

If he comes to, he better start to talk.



   

                   

(Albert laughs) I got 'em!



   

                   

I have brought your dinner.



   

                   

(Whispers) Where's the kitchen lad?



   

                   

- He is in hospital.

- What?



   

                   

He said he told them nothing and I believe him.



   

                   

- I must see him.

- (Richard) I don't think that's wise.



   

                   

I'm coming.



   

                   

You must take me to him.



   

                   

- Start packing.

- (Michael) What have we got to pack?



   

                   

Richard. Richard, bring that for Pup.



   

                   

What can you do? You only endanger yourself.



   

                   

I'll only be gone an hour.



   

                   

Richard, you can bring me back, can't you?



   

                   

Oh, poor Pup. Oh, poor Pup.



   

                   

(Sobs)



   

                   

Leave me something to eat.



   

                   

Of course.



   

                   

Please be very careful.



   

                   

(Front door closes)



   

                   

(Pup) # Have mercy upon me



   

                   

# Have mercy upon me



   

                   

# Blot out my transgressions



   

                   

# Blot out my transgressions



   

                   

# Purge me with hyssop... #



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

# Wash me, wash me



   

                   

# And I shall be whiter than snow... #



   

                   

- Hold him by his hair.

- (Ohoking, gagging)



   

                   

(Mitchel) He hasn't got much hair to hold.



   

                   

- Disgusting to be that old and to be her lover.

- (Mews) Same age as you.



   

                   

- I'm her husband, not her lover.

- You can only be one and not the other?



   

                   

If he'd been younger, I could've understood.

He'd just be a passing fancy. You bastard!



   

                   

Right, Mitchel, now's your chance.

You are gonna chew bollocks.



   

                   

- (Mitchel) He's too old.

- What's that mean?



   

                   

He's the same age as me -    almost.



   

                   

If he was younger it would've been all right?



   

                   

My God. When you're    is being    old?



   

                   

- (Mitchel) He probably hasn't had a bath recently.

- (Laughs) God, Mitchel, you are a prize mule.



   

                   

Well, I mean, certainly...



   

                   

- He must've been with Georgina last night.

- No! Shut up.



   

                   

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!



    

                   

You pissing little worm.



    

                   

God, you are an idiot, Mitchel.



    

                   

You can be guaranteed

to say the wrong thing at the right time.



    

                   

I didn't mean that you literally

had to chew his bollocks off.



    

                   

I meant it metaphorically.



    

                   

What does that mean, Albert?



    

                   

"Jewish Book-keeper Savaged

By Young Sex Maniac."



    

                   

- (Michael choking)

- I don't want this to look like a sex murder.



    

                   

It's a revenge killing, an affair of the heart,

a crime passionnel.



    

                   

- I want no evil gossip spread around about me.

- (Gurgling cries)



    

                   

They are not going to say... They are going

to say this was a dignified revenge killing.



    

                   

They're gonna admire the style.



    

                   

"He was stuffed. And Albert liked good food."



    

                   

They might even smile.

"He was stuffed with the tools of his trade."



    

                   

"He was stuffed with books.

The crummy little book-keeper was..."



    

                   

Mitchel, no unnecessary... No unnecessaries.



    

                   

Finish him off! Shut his mouth, hold his nose,

ram the bloody books down his throat.



    

                   

Suffocate the bastard!



    

                   

(Georgina) Michael!



    

                   

Michael.



    

                   

OK, so this is how you eat the crayfish.

First, you snap off the head.



    

                   

(Orunching)



    

                   

Then you pull out the whiskers,



    

                   

then you strip off the legs.



    

                   

And then you poke out the soft part of the body.



    

                   

- You turn the light out?

- (Mitchel) What light?



    

                   

Idiot. You wouldn't remember to fart.

Place might burn down with all them books.



    

                   

- That would nicely destroy the evidence.

- I don't want it destroyed, idiot!



    

                   

I want Georgina to see it.



    

                   

What did he say?



    

                   

The French Revolution

was easier to swallow than Napoleon.



    

                   

Napoleon was a prat. He threw everything away.



    

                   

Napoleon liked seafood.

His favourite dish was oysters Florentine.



    

                   

It's amazing, isn't it? Ohurchill liked seafood.



    

                   

All the great generals were keen on seafood.



    

                   

What did Julius Oaesar like, or Hitler?



    

                   

Hitler liked clams. And Mussolini liked squid.



    

                   

- You're making it up.

- What do you know, Harris?



    

                   

- What did the bookseller eat?

- You could tell from his vomit.



    

                   

What do I care what he ate?

It all comes out as shit in the end.



    

                   

(Sighs)



    

                   

I'm so tired.



    

                   

I'm going to sleep.



    

                   

I've got a lot to tell you in the morning.



    

                   

And I want you to listen.



    

                   

Somebody should know.

And who can I tell but you?



    

                   

And then...



    

                   

when I wake up in the morning,



    

                   

I want you to kiss me.



    

                   

And then I want breakfast.



    

                   

Erm, coffee and fresh rolls and butter



    

                   

and marmalade.



    

                   

And toast.



    

                   

And...



    

                   

Good night, Michael.



    

                   

I'll see you in the morning.



    

                   

I love you.



    

                   

- You shouldn't have done it. It wasn't worth it.

- You what?



    

                   

Georgina wasn't worth it?

How bloody dare you say that?



    

                   

Georgina's worth a thousand

snooty little Jewish book-keeping clerks



    

                   

who masturbate over the French Revolution.



    

                   

The book-keeper will get us into trouble

and he wasn't worth it. Oalm down.



    

                   

Little circumcised mediocrity

was screwing my wife! I will not calm down!



    

                   

I've seen you, Harris, eyeing Georgina,

looking at another man's wife.



    

                   

I've seen you watch her skirt fly up

when she got out of the car.



    

                   

Yes, I've seen you sniffing her, Harris.



    

                   

And to think I ever trusted you with her,



    

                   

that I ever trusted you to drive her home

when I was drunk.



    

                   

- You get out of this restaurant!

- Oalm down.



    

                   

Mitchel, get Richard.

I want this man banned. Get out!



    

                   

- If you want to shout...

- I can shout in my own restaurant!



    

                   

I own this restaurant. Get out! Fuck you!



    

                   

Go, you mule! Richard, I'm closing you up.



    

                   

- Really?

- You are finished, Richard.



    

                   

Allowing decent people to dine

with wife snatchers. You're finished!



    

                   

I think not, Mr Spica!



    

                   

And if I did, where would you eat?

Who would have you?



    

                   

Now, if you'd kindly leave,

we can start clearing up the mess you have made.



    

                   

I'm warning you. Tomorrow

your restaurant will be just one big car park.



    

                   

- Nothing more.

- I wonder how you will do that.



    

                   

A bulldozer, Richard.

Your cuisine will be    feet under brick dust.



    

                   

Get out of it, Harris. You get out of it.



    

                   

Go on. I can tell loyalty when I see it.



    

                   

Well, Michael,



    

                   

you didn't kiss me



    

                   

so...



    

                   

I suppose I have to make my own breakfast.



    

                   

Don't get up yet.



    

                   

Well, Michael,



    

                   

that's that.



    

                   

Short and very sweet.



    

                   

Now you're not listening,

I suppose I could tell you about Albert.



    

                   

I meant to tell you eventually

but I'd have to know you better because...



    

                   

Well, because I'd be so ashamed.



    

                   

But it's important that I tell you now

so that I can have done with it.



    

                   

Albert beat me. Well, I know you know that.

You saw the bruises.



    

                   

He was regular in his habits.



    

                   

When we got back from the restaurant,

he'd make me get a hot, wet towel



    

                   

and accompany him to the toilet.



    

                   

And I'd have to wipe his...



    

                   

After I finished, he... he made... Oh...



    

                   

Help me, Michael.



    

                   

On his side of the bed he had

a suitcase with all kinds of objects in it.



    

                   

Er, a toothbrush,



    

                   

a wooden spoon,



    

                   

a plastic train,



    

                   

a wine bottle.



    

                   

And he'd use them.



    

                   

If I didn't do it whilst he watched,

he'd insist on doing it himself.



    

                   

At least when I did it, it hurt less.



    

                   

I don't think he was very interested in sex -

not with me, not with women.



    

                   

I left him four times.



    

                   

I caught the night ferry.



    

                   

He and Harris found me in Brussels,

they brought me back.



    

                   

On the boat, Albert cried, bought me presents.



    

                   

But then after we landed,

when we gotjust outside the harbour,



    

                   

before the motorway, he stopped the car



    

                   

and he and Harris and Spangler dragged me out

and stripped me and beat me.



    

                   

'Michael,



    

                   

'all this must finish.



    

                   

'Help me, Michael. Please.'



    

                   

He's dead.



    

                   

They stuffed his mouth with paper

ripped from his favourite book.



    

                   

- Oould you cook him?

- Oook who, Georgina?



    

                   

Michael.



    

                   

No. Mon dieu, non.



    

                   

You have a reputation

for a wide range of experimental dishes.



    

                   

He might taste good.



    

                   

I'm sure he would taste good.



    

                   

What would taste best?



    

                   

His heart? His liver?



    

                   

The cheeks of his backside?



    

                   

(Laughs) His prairie oysters?



    

                   

Georgina,



    

                   

sit down.



    

                   

Sit down.



    

                   

When you make out a menu,

how do you price each dish?



    

                   

I charge a lot for anything black.



    

                   

Grapes, olives, blackcurrants.



    

                   

People like to remind themselves of death,



    

                   

eating black food is like consuming death,



    

                   

like saying, "Death, I'm eating you."



    

                   

Black truffles are the most expensive. And caviar.



    

                   

Death and birth.



    

                   

The end and the beginning.



    

                   

Don't you think it's appropriate

that the most expensive items are black?



    

                   

We also charge for vanity.



    

                   

Diet foods have an additional surcharge



    

                   

of   %% .



    

                   

Aphrodisiacs,   %% .



    

                   

And from what I saw,

your lover did not need an aphrodisiac.



    

                   

What did you see? I want to know.



    

                   

Nobody knew but you.



    

                   

Everyone pitied me. Even you pitied me.



    

                   

And how can I know that he loved me

if there were no witnesses?



    

                   

If you loved him, that does not seem

to be a very necessary question.



    

                   

Yes, it does! Tell me what you know!



    

                   

What I saw was what you let me see.



    

                   

Of course it was.



    

                   

How could I know that it was real

unless someone else was watching?



    

                   

Tell me what you saw.



    

                   

Or are you ashamed to tell me?



    

                   

No.



    

                   

I saw him kissing you



    

                   

on the mouth,



    

                   

on the neck,



    

                   

behind your ear.



    

                   

I saw him undressing you.



    

                   

I saw him kissing your breasts.



    

                   

I saw him put his hand between your legs.



    

                   

And what did you see me do?



    

                   

I saw you kiss him on the mouth.



    

                   

I saw you lying under him on the floor of the pantry.



    

                   

I saw him take you from behind.



    

                   

I saw you take his penis in your mouth.



    

                   

I saw you...



    

                   

Do lovers always behave like that?



    

                   

My parents behaved like that.



    

                   

They did?



    

                   

- You saw them?

- And lovers in the cinema behave like that.



    

                   

No, that doesn't count.



    

                   

And in my fantasies,

lovers always behave like that.



    

                   

Were you jealous?



    

                   

Did we make you jealous?



    

                   

Did you want to join us?



    

                   

- If you did, help me now.

- Georgina, no.



    

                   

In memory of us making love in your kitchen

and in your fantasies, help me now.



    

                   

No.



    

                   

In memory of your parents making love,

help me now.



    

                   

Georgina, no!



    

                   

People I like learn my name too late.



    

                   

Too late?



    

                   

Oook Michael for me.



    

                   

No.



    

                   

This was his favourite restaurant.



    

                   

It's also mine.



    

                   

Oook Michael for me.



    

                   

If I did,



    

                   

who would ever eat here again?



    

                   

How can I make you change your mind?



    

                   

Do you want to make love with me?

You can do what he did.



    

                   

How can I persuade you?



    

                   

You can't. You may have loved him...



    

                   

You know I did, you saw me.



    

                   

But you don't have to eat him, Georgina.



    

                   

Do you... do you have some idea

that by eating him



    

                   

he can become part of you?



    

                   

You can't believe that by eating him

you can always be together!



    

                   

I'm not eating him.



    

                   

- Albert is.

- Albert?



    

                   

There's £     . It's Michael's.



    

                   

Put your money away.



    

                   

Where is he?



    

                   

(Georgina moaning)



    

                   

(Georgina crying)



    

                   

(Hollow banging)



    

                   

(Banging on glass)



    

                   

What's going on here?



    

                   

Why do I suddenly have to come in

to my own restaurant like a stranger?



    

                   

Special invitations.



    

                   

Which I might say

could've gone to a better printer.



    

                   

I have to bang on the door like an outcast.



    

                   

Well, well, well.



    

                   

Georgina Duckles.

What brings you here, you bitch?



    

                   

I'm very surprised

you show your face here, you slut.



    

                   

Where you been? Albert has been frantic.



    

                   

Shut up, Grace. Find me a drink.



    

                   

- Happy anniversary, Albert.

- I'll bloody kill you for what you did!



    

                   

- You should find that easy.

- Don't think I'm taking you back.



    

                   

I'll make you pay, you slut.



    

                   

Your bottom's going to be

very, very sore for weeks.



    

                   

No more books for you, girl.

You're staying in under lock and key.



    

                   

There's going to be no more books

or prick-sniffing for you, girl.



    

                   

Happy anniversary, Albert.



    

                   

What are you talking about? It's not my birthday.



    

                   

No, but it's an anniversary that I shall

always celebrate, even if you won't. And you won't.



    

                   

- What? Where is everybody?

- They'll be here presently.



    

                   

- Look, Georgina.

- What?



    

                   

- It's all over now.

- What is?



    

                   

- Grace, just go and look out of a window.

- Oh.



    

                   

Mitchel, bugger off out of it.



    

                   

Look, Georgina, when the others arrive...



    

                   

Where are they? The invitation says nine o'clock.



    

                   

- Where are they gonna sit?

- They'll be here presently.



    

                   

Look, Georgina, you didn't...

didn't really like him, did you?



    

                   

I mean, how could you like

a bloody book-keeper, a nobody?



    

                   

I tell you what. I'll try... We'll forget it, eh?



    

                   

Eh? Oome home with me.



    

                   

Tell you the truth, Georgie,

I've been a bit miserable.



    

                   

- Since it is your anniversary...

- What bloody anniversary?



    

                   

I've brought you a present.



    

                   

I don't need presents.

It's me who gives you presents.



    

                   

Besides, you've never had

the money to give me presents.



    

                   

And Richard has cooked it for you.



    

                   

- Under my instructions.

- Oh?



    

                   

Knowing how you like to eat.



    

                   

Knowing how you like to gorge yourself.



    

                   

And we've brought a few of your friends around.



    

                   

(Albert) What sort of party is this, Georgie?



    

                   

- What's going on?

- Sit down, Albert.



    

                   

Oan't I sit down, Georgina?



    

                   

No, this is Albert's special treat.



    

                   

- Here, I'm not eating with that Roy there.

- Shut up, Albert.



    

                   

You're here to enjoy yourself.



    

                   

Georgie.



    

                   

Jesus!



    

                   

God.



    

                   

(Georgina) No, it's not God, Albert. It's Michael.



    

                   

My lover.



    

                   

You vowed you would kill him, and you did.



    

                   

And you vowed you would eat him.



    

                   

Now eat him.



    

                   

What's the matter?



    

                   

You have your knife and fork.

You do know how to use them.



    

                   

Or have all those carefully-learnt table manners

gone to waste?



    

                   

Mitchel can pour you a drink.



    

                   

(Mitchel whimpers)



    

                   

Your waiter has opted out.



    

                   

Er, Grace will pour for you.



    

                   

Oh.



    

                   

- Non, monsieur!

- Yah!



    

                   

Eat, Albert.



    

                   

Roy, pour Albert a drink.



    

                   

Try the cock, Albert. It's a delicacy.



    

                   

And you know where it's been.



    

                   

(Grunting)



    

                   

(Georgina) Go on, Albert.



    

                   

Eat.



    

                   

Bon appétit.



    

                   

It's French.



    

                   

Cannibal.









 
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