I have failed you. I will make up for it right now...
The entire script of Ratatouille. Part 1
A TELEVISION SET -tuned to a DOCUMENTARY. As an old fashioned World GLOBE rotates in a sea of clouds, the EIFFEL TOWER slowly comes into view over the horizon, dwarfing FRANCE underneath it.
T.V. NARRATOR: Although each of the world’s countries would like to dispute this fact, we French know the truth; the best food in the World is made in France. The best food in France is made in Paris, and the best food in Paris, some say, is made by Chef Auguste Gusteau.
We see images of GUSTEAU: cooking, signing his cookbook, in front of his famous restaurant. Gusteau is in his early forties, but his massive girth makes him look older.
T.V. NARRATOR (CONT’D): Gusteau’s restaurant is the toast of Paris, booked five months in advance, and his dazzling ascent to the top of fine French cuisine has made his competitors envious. He is the youngest chef ever to achieve a five star rating. Chef Gusteau’s cookbook “Anyone Can Cook!” has climbed to the top of the bestseller list. But not everyone celebrates its success.
A tall, gaunt, severe-looking MAN with fish-belly white skin appears on the TV screen. SUPER: ANTON EGO-FOOD CRITIC. Beneath that, in italics, is his moniker: The Grim Eater.
EGO: Amusing title, “Anyone Can Cook”. What’s even more amusing is that Gusteau actually seems to believe it. I, on the other hand, take cooking seriously and no-- I don’t think “anyone” can do it...
TITLES (OVER BLACK): The SOUND of wind rattling barren branches... WALT DISNEY PICTURES PRESENTS A PIXAR ANIMATION STUDIOS FILM ...and we FADE IN to reveal:
FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE - LATE AFTERNOON A light rain falls on a SMALL FARMHOUSE. The last remaining dead leaves tremble in the gusts. The quiet is shattered by a LOUD GUNSHOT that lights up the inside of the cottage. CAMERA pushes down and in toward a single window.
RATATOUILLE As we move closer, we begin to hear muffled SOUNDS OF STRUGGLE; furniture being bumped, dishes breaking, an indescribable CRASH, followed by an OLD LADY’S SHRIEK. We’re close to the WINDOW now, when it is suddenly SHATTERED by a COOKBOOK. Instantly the action FREEZES. Underneath its splayed pages, shielding himself from the shards of splintering glass is, inexplicably, a RAT, named REMY. He’s scrawny, frightened, almost comic. It’s hard not to feel sympathetic towards the little guy.
REMY (V.O.): This is me. I think it’s apparent I need to rethink my life a little bit. What’s my problem?
OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE - DUSK - WEEKS EARLIER
REMY (V.O., CONT'D): First of all, I’m a rat.
A SILHOUETTE darts out from behind a wooden barrel, pausing upright against a blood red sky. Mangy, sinister, the opposite of Remy. This is how most humans see RATS.
REMY (V.O.): Which means life is hard.
Assured the coast is clear, the SINISTER RAT scampers out into the yard, followed by DOZENS MORE RATS. The RATS move across the expanse of grass toward a COMPOST HEAP, which sits in the middle of a field under the darkening sky. Resourceful and well coordinated, the rats grab bits of decomposing food and carry it off. REMY is among them, drearily going through garbage.
REMY (V.O.): And secondly-- I have a highly developed sense of taste and smell. (Suddenly he catches a SCENT; which leads him to uncover a nearly untouched piece of PASTRY, a discarded NAPOLEON.)
REMY: (sniffing Napoleon) Flour, eggs, sugar, vanilla bean, small twist of lemon...
(The Napoleon suddenly erupts, and out pops Remy’s pudgy brother EMILE, covered in cream and completely oblivious to the destruction he’s wrought.)
EMILE: Wow! You can smell all that? You have a gift.
(Again the ACTION FREEZES.)
REMY (V.O.): This is Emile. My brother. He’s easily impressed.
(RESUME ACTION: An older rat, Remy's father, DJANGO, comes into view. He snorts dismissively, plucks an APPLE CORE from the compost.)
DJANGO: So you can smell ingredients. So what?
REMY (V.O.): This is my Dad. He’s never impressed. He also happens to be the leader of our clan.
(Remy catches another scent and FROWNS; this new scent is different somehow, wrong. He follows the scent to Django)
REMY (V.O.): So what’s wrong with having highly developed senses?
(Django is about to eat the APPLE CORE when Remy lunges at him, snatching the core from his hands.)
REMY: Whoa, whoa, whoa! DON’T EAT THAT!!
DJANGO: What's going on here?
(SHED - MINUTES LATER Still holding the APPLE CORE, Remy sniffs the air, following a scent to a tarp in the corner. He lifts it, REVEALING: a pile of RAT POISON. The other rats REACT. Django’s impressed.)
REMY: (V.O.) Turns out that funny smell was rat poison. Suddenly Dad didn’t think my talent was useless. I was feelin’ pretty good about my gift. Until Dad gave me a job.
(FARMHOUSE - COMPOST PILE - DAY A line of rats file past REMY, holding up rotted scraps of food so that each one passes under his nose.)
REMY (V.O.,CONT’): That’s right… “poison checker”.
(As Remy sniffs with all the gusto of a lifelong DMV employee, the line shuffles forward with each “clean”.)
REMY: (sniffs before each one) Clean... clean... cleanerific…clean-erino... close to Godliness...
(The rat under inspection stands there, unsure as to whether or not he’s been approved.)
REMY (CONT’D): ..which means “clean”. You know-- “Cleanliness is... close to--?” (No response. Remy waits, expecting the rat to get his joke. Beat.) ...never mind. Move on... (The rat moves on. Remy rolls resumes his bored inspection.)
( INSIDE ATTIC - LATE AFTERNOON Django & Remy stand on a beat-up chair, overlooking the rat clan as they go about their day.)
REMY (V.O.): Well, it made my Dad proud.
DJANGO: Now don’t you feel better, Remy? You’ve helped a noble cause.
REMY: Noble? We’re thieves, Dad. And what we’re stealing is, let’s face it, garbage.
DJANGO: It isn’t stealing if no one wants it.
REMY: If no one wants it, why are we STEALING IT?!?
(They continue to quarrel. It’s clear this is an old argument.)
REMY (V.O.): Let’s just say we have different points of view.
ATTIC - NIGHT Django and Emile are gobbling up an assortment of RUBBISH, which is in fact dinner. REMY watches them, appalled. He looks down at his own plate in disgust.
REMY (V.O., CONT’D): This much I knew: if you are what you eat, then I only wanna eat the good stuff.
(He pushes the rotted food away. Django reacts.)
REMY (V.O.): But to my Dad...
DJANGO: Food is fuel. You get picky about what you put in the tank, your engine is gonna die. Now shut up and eat your garbage.
REMY: If we’re going to be thieves, why not steal the good stuff in the kitchen, where nothing is poisoned?
DJANGO: First of all, we are NOT thieves. Secondly, stay out of the kitchen and away from the humans. It’s dangerous.
REMY (V.O): I know I'm supposed to hate humans, but...
OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE - DUSK Remy watches the farmhouse, drawn to the warm light and the sounds emanating from inside.
REMY (V.O.) there’s something about them...
Remy carefully sneaks into the kitchen.
REMY (V.O., CONT’D) ...they don’t just survive, they discover, they create. Just look at what they do with food!
The TV is tuned to the same show we saw in the opening. CHEF GUSTEAU is cooking, speaking to the camera. Remy watches.
GUSTEAU (ON T.V.) Good food is like music you can taste, color you can smell. There is excellence all around you. You need only be aware to stop and savor it.
Remy notices a leftover plate of FRUITS & CHEESES. He picks up a small slice of cheese and takes a bite.
REMY (V.O.) Gusteau was right.
As Remy closes his eyes his surroundings FADE TO BLACK. Amorphus, energetic YELLOW SHAPES appear on his right accompanied by jazzy music.
REMY (V.O., CONT’) Each flavor was totally unique.
Remy then takes a bit of a strawberry. This time, amorphous smooth PINK SHAPES appear on his left accompanied by romantic music.
REMY (V.O., CONT’) Oh, yeah. Amazing. But... combine one flavor with another...
Remy takes a bite of both items.
REMY (CONT’D) -and something new is created.
New COLORED SHAPES and music appear; swirling and dancing and playing in harmony with the others. A light SNAPS ON, breaking the spell. The OLD LADY has awakened. Remy drops the food and scampers away.
Remy follows a pleasant scent in the air. It leads him to a beautiful MUSHROOM.
REMY (V.O.) So now I had a secret life. The only one who knew about it was Emile.
BEHIND THE FARM HOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON
Emile is atop a full garbage can, rooting around under the lid. Remy calls up from the tall grass below.
REMY Emile! Psst- hey, Emile--!
Emile looks up, holding the remains of a brown-bag lunch.
REMY (giddy) Look! I found a mushroom! Come on, you’re good at hiding food, help me find a good place to put this!
GRASSY FIELD - LATE AFTERNOON
Remy and Emile walk together; Emile on all fours, dragging the enormous bag he grips between his teeth, while Remy walks upright, carefully cradling his mushroom.
REMY (V.O.) He doesn’t understand me, but I can be myself around him...
EMILE Why are you walking like that?
REMY I don’t want to constantly have to wash my paws. Do you ever think about how we walk on the same paws that we handle food with? Do you ever think about what we put into our mouths??
REMY (he shudders) When I eat, I don’t want to taste everywhere my paws have been.
EMILE Well, okay. But if Dad sees you walking like that... he’s not gonna like it.
Remy SNIFFS Emile’s BAG. His eyes LIGHT UP.
REMY What have you got there? He disappears into the bag, RIFLES through it, emerging with--
REMY Cheese?? You found CHEESE? And not just any cheese- Tomme De Chevre de Pays! That would go beautifully with my mushroom!! And! And and and
He sniffs the air, quickly finds a plant nearby. He PLUCKS it from the ground, his excitement growing by the second.
REMY (CONT’D) --this rosemary!! With, maybe with-- He grabs a paw full of grass from the ground, tasting the milky base. Smiling, he squeezes a few drops on the mushroom.
REMY (CONT’D) -a few drops from this sweet grass!
EMILE Well... throw it on the pile I guess, and we’ll--
REMY We don’t want to throw this in with the garbage! This is special!
EMILE But we gotta return to the colony before sundown or Dad’s gonna--
REMY Emile! There are possibilities unexplored here. We’ve gotta cook this! Now, exactly how we cook this is the real questi-- Remy STOPS, his gaze locking on the SMOKING CHIMNEY atop the farmhouse roof. He GRINS.
REMY (CONT’D) --ooooohh yeah!
Remy has skewered the mushroom and cheese onto part of the TV antennae, which he has bent over the smoking chimney top, hand turning it like a rotisserie.
REMY The key is to keep turning it, get the smoky flavor nice and even...
Lightning flickers in the far distance, followed a moment later by a RUMBLE of thunder. Emile watches, concerned.
EMILE That storm’s getting closer. Hey, you think that maybe we shouldn’t--
KRAAAK!!! A BOLT OF LIGHTNING hits the TV antennae-- knocking both rats off the rooftop. They make a LONG FALL, landing with a THUD into a the soft dirt. Miraculously, Remy and Emile are alive, their smoking fur sticks out in an electrified frazzle. Remy holds the rod up, keeping the cheesy mushroom-- now transformed by lightning into an amazing, puffed out shape-- completely clean.
REMY (moaning) Whoaaa... ohhh... (idly bites mushroom) ...ohmmmmmnnn you gotta taste this!!! It’s got this kind of-- (smacks lips) --burny, melty-- it’s not really a smoky flavor, it’s a certain-- it’s kind of like a-- (makes a sound effect) --it’s got a-- (sound effect) --kind of taste, don’t you think? What would you call that flavor?
REMY Yeah! It’s LIGHTNING-Y! We’ve gotta do that AGAIN! Okay.
When the next storm comes we’ll go up on the roof. Remy’s eyes suddenly go BLANK with a pre-emptive thought.
REMY I KNOW WHAT THIS NEEDS! Saffron! a little saffron would MAKE THIS!
EMILE Saffron. Why do I get the feeling--
REMY & EMILE (together) --it’s in the kitchen.
FARMHOUSE KITCHEN - MINUTES LATER
Emile frets, looking nervously at the old lady, still fast asleep in front of the TV. Remy RUMMAGES through her spices.
REMY Saffron... saffron... hmn...
EMILE Not good. Don’t like it. She’s gonna wake up.
REMY I’ve been down here a million times. She turns on the cooking channel-- boom. Never wakes up.
EMILE You’ve been here a million times??
REMY (resumes rooting) I’m telling ya, saffron’ll be just the thing. Gusteau swears by it.
EMILE Okay, who’s Gusteau?
Remy pushes aside some COOKBOOKS, revealing a well-worn copy of “AUGUST GUSTEAU’S ANYONE CAN COOK!” on the shelf.
EMILE Wait-- you.... read?
REMY (guilty) Well, not... excessively.
EMILE Oh, man. Does dad know?
REMY You could fill a book-- a LOT of books-- with things dad doesn’t know. And they have. Which is why I read. (pointed) Which is also our secret.
He resumes rummaging through the spices. Emile FRETS.
EMILE I don’t like secrets. All this cooking and reading and TV watching while we read and cook. It’s like you’re involving me in crime. And I let you. Why do I let you?
FARMHOUSE ATTIC - SAME MOMENT
RATS stream in from a crack in the wall, throwing food from the compost pile on to a heap. DJANGO is at the center, overseeing things. He turns away, distracted--
DJANGO What’s taking those kids so long?
RESUME KITCHEN - REMY AND EMILE
Remy locates a tiny vial of saffron, holds it up.
REMY Ah. Aquila saffron. Italian. Gusteau says it’s excellent. Good thing the old lady is a food lov--
Something on the TV attracts Remy’s attention; the great Chef Gusteau is being interviewed.
REMY --hey! That’s Gusteau! Emile, look--
GUSTEAU (TV) Great cooking is not for the faint of heart. You must be imaginative, strong-hearted, you must try things that may not work. And you must not let anyone define your limits because of where you come from. Your only limit is your soul. What I say is true, anyone can cook... but only the fearless can be great.
Remy grins, nodding in agreement. REMY Pure poetry.
TV NARRATOR But it was not to last. Gusteau’s restaurant lost one of its five stars after a scathing review by France’s top food critic Anton Ego.
Remy drifts closer to the TV, drawn to the shocking news.
TV NARRATOR (CONT’D) It was a severe blow to Gusteau, and the brokenhearted chef died shortly afterward, which, according to tradition, meant the loss of another star.
REMY (stunned) Gusteau... is dead?
Suddenly the TV SNAPS OFF! Remy & Emile spin around to see-- the OLD LADY is awake... and WIELDING A SHOT GUN.
Remy and Emile SCATTER! Emile panics, races toward the attic.
REMY NO! You’ll lead her to the colony!
The Lady BLASTS huge holes in the ceiling just behind the scrambling Emile. He LEAPS CLEAR-- and lands on the end of a HANGING LIGHT FIXTURE. The old lady has him. She levels the gun barrel at the helplessly dangling Emile--. REMY hides his eyes. EMILE braces for the end-- CLICK. The shotgun is EMPTY.
The OLD LADY REACTS: WHAT
EMILE REACTS: Huh? I’m not dead?
REMY LOOKS UP: Emile is still alive?
The OLD LADY curses, ejecting the shells. EMILE SEES his opportunity, starts SCRAMBLING to pull himself up onto the light. THE OLD LADY SEES THIS and rushes for more shells. REMY sees an opening and takes off to help Emile. Rifling through her desk drawers, the OLD LADY SPIES REMY coming out of hiding to help EMILE. She REDOUBLES HER EFFORTS to find a box of shells-- EMILE struggles his fat body up to the precarious LIGHT FIXTURE.
REMY Emile, start swinging the light! I’ll try to grab you!
OLD LADY hears Remy calling for Emile, but from her POV all we hear is a SQUEAKING SOUND. OLD LADY finds a SHELL BOX: EMPTY. She YANKS OPEN another desk drawer. REMY arrives at the light fixture, reaches out for EMILE--
OLD LADY-- nothing in the drawer, she decides to look in the book shelf, LOOKING BACK to see if the TWO RATS are still together and struggling, still sitting ducks-- Finding no shells in the desk, the LADY goes for the cabinet, LOOKING BACK to the TWO sitting duck RATS. The lady FINDS a fresh box of SHELLS, spilling them in her excitement-- REMY STRAINS to lift EMILE. The LADY drops to her knees, picks up a shell, loading it as EMILE’s feet get purchase. The LADY chambers her SHELL and SWINGS the SHOTGUN AROUND-- The RATS scramble up into a new blast hole at the base of a hanging fixture. It EXPLODES in buckshot! SILENCE... then a loud CRACK-- The lady LOOKS UP: a large FISSURE snakes across the ceiling, connecting the wide circle of SHOTGUN HOLES-
--a massive CHUNK OF CEILING breaks free and comes crashing down-- bringing with it the FLOOR of the ATTIC above, its furniture, and HUNDREDS OF SURPRISED RATS. The Old Lady FREAKS! She runs from the room.
DJANGO EVACUATE!!! EVERYONE TO THE BOATS!
RATS grab assorted belongings as they make their escape. Remy and Emile run with the terrified mob. Suddenly, Remy stops, looks back to Gusteau’s COOKBOOK--
--and TURNS BACK, rushing into the flood of fleeing rats!
RATS are diving out the windows, streaming through cracks, racing across the grass to the banks of a nearby stream.
The rats run into the tall grass, pulling aside camouflage, REVEALING several WATERCRAFT built from junk. The RATS push them into the water and climb aboard. DJANGO urges them on.
DJANGO GO GO GO! MOVE MOVE MOVE!
INSIDE THE FARMHOUSE KITCHEN
Remy, the last remaining rat, struggles with GUSTEAU’S COOKBOOK. A strange BREATHING SOUND causes him to look up: the LADY is back, now sporting a World War 2 GASMASK, and GAS CANNISTER. She starts after Remy, SPRAYING GAS everywhere. With a burst of adrenaline Remy hoists the COOKBOOK onto his back and makes a running LEAP through the window--
--and lands on the lawn in a shower of glass. It appears the COOKBOOK itself is struggling to catch up to the fleeing rats
DJANGO Everybody here? We have everybody? Wait a minute- where’s Remy?!
At the shore, Remy throws the book into the water and starts paddling toward the tunnel after the colony.
REMY Right here! I’m coming! I’m coming!
DJANGO Hold on son! (to other rats) Give him something to grab on to! GIT, a huge, muscular lab rat, grabs a SPATULA and hoists it out over the water toward Remy.
DJANGO (CONT'D) Come on boy!
Remy reaches out, desperately paddling with his other paw.
DJANGO (CONT'D) Paddle son! Come on, reach for it! You can do it!
Remy has almost reached the end of the spatula-- BLAM! A BLAST hits the water, sends Remy flying backward. The OLD LADY has taken position at the footbridge above. She FIRES at Django’s boat-- missing as his boat enters the tunnel.
DJANGO Come on, you can make it! You can make it!
Remy climbs back aboard the cookbook and PADDLES into the drainpipe before the LADY can get off a shot. She CURSES.
Remy paddles. Ahead, Django’s BOAT vanishes into the dark.
REMY Guys wait! Stop! Hold up! Wait for me! Hold UP!
Frightened SHOUTS echo into SILENCE.
REMY DAD?? (no response) Dad...?
Silence. Remy strains to see into the darkness. He begins to make out SHAPES; the channel forking into TWO TUNNELS.
He paddles towards the right tunnel, changes his mind, veers toward the left. He paddles, picking up speed. Then he hears-- --a LOW RUMBLE. He stops, suddenly alert. The rumble becomes a ROAR. Remy whirls, PADDLES furiously the opposite direction. He’s headed toward the edge of a waterfall! But it’s too late. Over the edge go Remy and the COOKBOOK, tumbling into the rapids below. Remy is tossed about like a rag doll, buffeted in every direction by the churning water. He struggles for air-- --finally breaking the surface, he GULPS a breath-- --and is PLUNGED back under. The stone walls blur past him as he claws back to the surface. Through the tumult he spies his one chance up ahead-- the COOKBOOK. He swims toward it, finally catching it, he pulls himself aboard. The rapids pass, the waters become calm. He looks back, amazed he’s still alive. He collapses, exhausted.
SOMEWHERE IN THE SEWER SYSTEM - NIGHT
A soaked and exhausted Remy has pulled his battered cookbook to the sewer bank. It’s dark and cold, it smells bad, but he’s safe. Maybe the clan will find him. He waits.
The COOKBOOK has dried out a bit, and there is just enough light seeping through a grate above for Remy to read it.
REMY (V.O.) I waited. For a sound... a voice... a sign. Something...
Remy flips a crinkled page, to a appetizing photo of pastry. His stomach GROWLS. He looks away, turning to a drawing of GUSTEAU on the opposite page. The ILLUSTRATION comes to life; speaking to Remy--
GUSTEAU If you are hungry, go up and look around, Remy. Why do you wait and mope?
REMY I’ve just lost my family. All my friends. Probably forever.
REMY Well, I-- (what is he doing?) You... are an illustration. Why am I talking to you?
GUSTEAU (shrugs) You just lost your family. All your friends. You are lonely.
REMY Yeah, well, you’re dead.
GUSTEAU Ah... but that is no match for wishful thinking. If you focus on what you’ve left behind you will never be able to see what lies ahead. Now go up and look around.
Remy looks up, considering the streets above. He looks back to the illustration. Gusteau has resumed his frozen pose. Remy decides to go.
WE FOLLOW REMY as he scurries up into a BUILDING-- between walls, through pipes, under floors, allowing GLIMPSES into the HUMAN world around him. Remy moves through a crack, emerges into--
In the next room A PARTY is in progress. Remy spies a loaf of BREAD. Famished, he grabs it, prepares to take a bite when- --a SPRITE in the form of GUSTEAU appears, smaller than Remy, glowing and semi-transparent.
GUSTEAU What are you doing?!!
REMY (startled, defensive) I’m hungry! I don’t know where I am and I don’t know when I’ll find food again...
GUSTEAU Remy. You are better than that. You are a cook! Cooks make. Thieves take. You are not a thief.
REMY (reconsidering) But I am hungry...
GUSTEAU Food will come, Remy. Food always comes to those who love to cook...
The GUSTEAU SPRITE VANISHES. Remy shakes it off. He puts the bread down, denying his growing hunger, and moves on.
Remy MOVES, following his exceptional nose. We see glimpses of many French lives; A PAINTER carefully paints a nude model we can’t see-- An DOG barks aggressively, warning Remy away from his flat-- A LOVERS QUARREL. Remy watches from above, through a crack in the ceiling; SHE shakily waves a pistol at a defiant HE.
QUARRELING WOMAN You think I am playing, Francois? You think I am PLAYING??
QUARRELING MAN You don’t have the guts!
Losing interest, Remy moves on. A BULLET splinters the floor in front of him. Remy rushes back to the crack and SEES-- --the couple struggling with the smoking gun. The MAN wrenches it free, it clatters to the floor. They glare at each other, blood in their eyes-- --and KISS. Remy rolls his eyes and moves on, through dark, tight spaces... into a pipe and emerges onto--
OUTSIDE THE BUILDING - ROOFTOPS - DUSK
CAMERA follows as Remy scampers along railings and ledges, past windows, up vines, BOOMING UP as the ROOFTOP FALLS AWAY
A STUNNING PANORAMA; PARIS AT NIGHT.
It is GORGEOUS-- a vast, luminous jewel. Remy is GOBSMACKED.
REMY Paris? All this time I’ve been underneath PARIS? It’s beautiful.
Remy’s takes in the sea of shimmering lights... then sees a HUGE SIGN atop a building several blocks away. It’s GUSTEAU-- a frying pan in each hand. The SIGN marvels at the panorama.
GUSTEAU SIGN The MOST beautiful.
REMY Gusteau’s? Your restaurant?? You’ve led me to your restaurant!
GUSTEAU SIGN (not entirely sure) It seems as though I have. Yes. There it is! I have led you to it!
Remy heads off toward the restaurant.
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S RESTAURANT WAITERS and COOKS bustle back and forth preparing elaborate meals with energetic precision; the complex dance of Haute Cuisine. Professional cooking at its finest. While the COOKS range wildly in age and nationality, only one is female; a French cook in her late twenties named COLETTE. A small, nasty-looking MAN sporting a thin mustache and a toque almost as large as the rest of him, ENTERS. This is the head Chef, SKINNER. Several COOKS call out greetings to him. He looks annoyed as LA ROUSSE nudges him.
LA ROUSSE Hey boss! Look who’s here! This is Linguini, Renata’s little boy.
La Rousse gestures to LINGUINI, a gawky young man with a unruly mop of red hair sitting on a stool in the corner. He jumps up and awkwardly approaches Skinner.
LA ROUSSE (CONT’D) All grown up, eh? You remember Renata, Gusteau’s old flame?
SKINNER (distracted) Ahh yes. How are you, uh...
SKINNER Yes. Linguini. So nice of you to visit. How is--?
SKINNER (impatient) Yes. Renata. How is she?
LINGUINI Good. Well, not g-- she’s been better... I mean, uh...
LINGUINI Don’t be. She believed in heaven so she’s... covered... (awkward) ...you know. Afterlife wise.
Skinner stares at Linguini for a long, perplexed moment. Linguini suddenly hands a sealed envelope to him.
LINGUINI She left it for you. I think she hoped it would help. Me. Get a job. Here--?
LA ROUSSE Of course, Gusteau wouldn’t hesitate. Any son of Renata’s--
SKINNER (cutting him off) Yes. Well, we could file this, and if something suitable opens up--
LA ROUSSE We’ve already hired him.
SKINNER (outraged) What?! How dare you hire someone without my
HORST We needed a garbage boy.
Skinner processes this, calming as he does.
SKINNER Oh. Garbage. Well... (to Linguini, thin smile) ...I’m glad it worked out.
Skinner disappears into his office, which once belonged to the great Gusteau himself. Linguini turns back to the other cooks, who are already handing him his work clothes.
ROOFTOP - ABOVE GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - MINUTES LATER
Remy and the Gusteau sprite look down through the SKYLIGHT into GUSTEAU’S kitchen. Remy watches, rapt as the CHEFS scurry about, preparing the gourmet meals.
REMY I can’t believe it. A real gourmet kitchen and I get to watch.
GUSTEAU You’ve read my book. Let us see how much you know. Which is the Chef?
Remy points out SKINNER, who is berating another cook.
GUSTEAU Very good. Who is next in command?
REMY The Sous Chef... there. (points out HORST)
The Sous is responsible for the kitchen when the Chef’s not there.
REMY’S POV: ISOLATING THE COOKS as Remy points them out.
REMY (O.C.) Saucier; in charge of sauces, very important. Chef de Partie, DemiChef de Partie-- both important... (pointing) Commis, Commis, Commis... they’re cooks. Very important.
GUSTEAU You are a clever rat. Now-- who is that?
Gusteau is pointing at the garbage boy LINGUINI, who is clumsily steering a mop and bucket through the kitchen.
REMY Oh... him? He’s nobody.
GUSTEAU Not nobody. He is part of the kitchen.
REMY (dismissive) He’s a Plongeur or something.
Washes dishes or takes out the garbage. He doesn’t cook.
Below, LINGUINI accidentally knocks over the pot of soup, spilling it. Remy gives Gusteau a patronizing chuckle.
What WE SEE, but Remy doesn’t: desperate that no one notices his mistake, Linguini quickly replaces the pot on the burner, and MOPS up the floor.
GUSTEAU How do you know? What do I always say? “Anyone can cook”.
REMY Well, yeah. Anyone can. That doesn’t mean that anyone should.
GUSTEAU Well that is not stopping him. See?
Remy watches aghast as Linguini quickly chums some water from another pot into the soup to refill it to it’s former level, haphazardly throws in a few spices and vegetables.
REMY What is he doing? No. No! No, this is terrible! (stutters) He’s ruining the soup! A-and nobody’s noticing?! It’s your restaurant! Do something!
GUSTEAU What can I do? I am a figment of your imagination
REMY But HE’S RUINING THE SOUP!
We’ve got to tell someone that he’s -
The skylight suddenly gives way, and Remy PLUNGES down--
With a SPLASH Remy lands in a sink filled with soapy dishwater. He paddles to the surface, climbs onto the counter and tumbles over the edge, hitting the floor with a SPLAT.
KITCHEN FLOOR - UNDER THE COUNTER - CONTINUOUS
Remy HIDES. GIANT FEET (belonging to busy COOKS) boom by on either side. Surrounded by the enemies of rat kind, Remy is PETRIFIED. From REMY’S POV the kitchen is a terrifying place; full of FIRE and NOISE. He runs out from under the counter. The door to the walk-in OPENS, knocking Remy across the floor and under the stove. Above him rows of burners IGNITE. He races across a walkway, under another counter and out the other side, nearly run over by a DINING CART. REMY dives underneath it, using it to cross the kitchen camouflaged. Sticking his head out, Remy spots an OPEN WINDOW on the far wall: a way out! He runs for it, climbing up a dish rack to the counter. He is nearly to the OPEN WINDOW. He scrambles up onto a copper pot toward it, but the lid slips and he falls inside. He LOOKS UP.
REMY’S POV: OUT FROM UNDER THE POT LID
--the window is MOVING AWAY. What’s happening?!
--the POT is being carried away by one of the COOKS. The chef sets the pot down near a stove and exits. As Remy heads back toward the window, a wonderful SCENT hits his nose. He SNIFFS, following it to a PAN filled with vegetables. Enticed, he crawls inside, and it is only then that he notices the LARGE TURKEY-- moments before a COOK picks up the pan and slides it into the oven! Remy barely escapes before the oven door CLOSES, SPRINGING from the oven to another passing trolley, which bursts into--
THE DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Remy is wheeled into the plush hush of the restaurant, and pulls up to a table of well-dressed DINERS. A WAITERS HAND reaches down for a peppermill, grabbing REMY instead-- --which startles both of them. The HAND instantly RELEASES Remy, who quickly leaps on to another passing trolley, the one heading back to the kitchen.
GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Remy jumps off the trolley and hides. He looks up at the window --
--the WINDOW has been CLOSED! Linguini crosses into his view and tastes the soup. It’s horrible, so horrible that-- --he runs to the window, opens it, SPITS the soup out into the alley and exits-- LEAVING THE WINDOW OPEN.
He sees his opening and runs for it, climbing a broom handle to a shelf above the stove that leads to the OPEN WINDOW. Dodging jars of spices he runs through the steam from the soup bubbling directly below. It’s so disgusting that-- --without thinking, he grabs a spice from the counter, throws a dash in. He starts for the window-- thinks better of it, adds some leeks, adds some pepper, starts back to the window-- --and STOPS. His gaze returns to the boiling pot. He looks back at the kitchen: the cooks haven’t noticed him. He looks at the window: it is still open, and the path to it is clear. The GUSTEAU SPRITE APPEARS--
GUSTEAU Remy! What are you waiting for?
REMY Is this going to become a regular thing with you?
GUSTEAU You know how to fix it. This is your chance...
Remy considers this. Then, filled with purpose, he jumps to the stove top, turns the burner down, hops up to the spigot to add water to the soup. Quickly losing himself, Remy proceeds to remake the soup, alternately smelling, tasting and adding ingredients to it. He grabs a pawful of spices to toss in and SUDDENLY SEES-- --LINGUINI, wide-eyed and brandishing a ladle. They STARE at each other for a long moment, deer caught in each others headlights. Remy drops the spices into the soup.
Skinner (OS) The soup! Where is the soup?
The two STARTLE; Remy tries to run for the window. Linguini slams a collander over him, both hiding and trapping him.
Skinner: Out of my way! Move it, garbage boy!
Skinner spots the ladle in Linguini’s hand. He seizes Linguini by his collar.
Skinner: You are cooking? How dare you cook in my kitchen!
Remy starts to push the collander toward the open window.
SKINNER Where do you get the gall to even attempt something so monumentally idiotic? I should have you drawn and quartered! I’ll do it! I think the law is on my side! (calling out) Larousse! Draw and quarter this man! After you put his head in the duck press to squeeze the fat out of his head!
As Skinner berates Linguini, LALO ladles the soup into a tureen, which he takes to the pass. Linguini watches helplessly as the waiter MUSTAFA carries his soup out to the dining room.
LINGUINI * Oh, no... no no, ohhhh nooo--
SKINNER What are you blathering about?!
LINGUINI * (points, dumbstruck) -but don’t let- th-- sou... soup--!
SKINNER Soup? * (suddenly understands) * Stop that soup! Noooo!
But Mustafa is gone and it is TOO LATE. Skinner anxiously looks through the door windows into the dining room--
SKINNER’S POV: THE DINING ROOM
--the soup is served to a WOMAN DINER. She tastes it, REACTS visibly, and motions for the waiter.
RESUME KITCHEN - GUSTEAU & SKINNER
Wilting, Skinner turns his building rage toward Linguini.
Skinner: Linguini! You’re fired! F-I-R-E-D! Fired!
MUSTAFA, the waiter, sticks his head through the doubledoors, speaking low to Skinner.
MUSTAFA She wants to speak to the Chef.
Color drains from Skinner’s face. He sighs, heads out into the dining room to take his medicine. Linguini creeps toward the exit, but is collared by the Sous Chef HORST. On the counter, Remy inches the collander towards the window. Colette sticks a spoon into the soup and tastes. It’s GOOD. Mustafa and Skinner re-enter from the dining room, Skinner’s face a riot of bewilderment.
COLETTE What did the customer say?
MUSTAFA It wasn’t a customer. It was a critic.
SKINNER (dazed) Solene LeClaire...
COLETTE LeClaire? What did she say?
MUSTAFA She liked the soup.
The GUSTEAU SPRITE stops Remy.
REMY What do mean “wait’? You’re the reason I’m in this mess!
GUSTEAU Someone is asking about your soup!
The bustle of the kitchen has STOPPED DEAD as Skinner tastes the soup. His eyes betray a truth; the soup is delicious. And he HATES that. He turns to Linguini, his face DARK.
SKINNER What are you playing at?
LINGUINI (totally confused) I, uhm, didn’t-- am I still fired?
COLETTE You can’t fire him. SKINNER (wheels on her) What!?
COLETTE LeClaire likes it. She made a point of telling you so. If she writes a review to that effect, and finds out you fired the cook responsible--
SKINNER He’s a garbage boy...
COLETTE --who made something she liked. How can we claim to represent the name of Gusteau if we don’t uphold his most cherished belief?
SKINNER What belief is that, Madamoiselle Tatou?
The Gusteau sprite NUDGES Remy.
The other COOKS murmur their assent. The turn of the tide isn’t lost on Skinner. His face softens into an icy smile.
SKINNER Perhaps I’ve been a bit harsh on our new garbage boy. He has taken a bold risk, and we should reward that, as Chef Gusteau would have. If he wishes to swim in dangerous waters who are we to deny him?
Remy’s totally absorbed in this conflict. A COUGH causes Remy to looks up: the GUSTEAU SPRITE gestures at the window.
GUSTEAU You were escaping?
Remy resumes pushing toward the window.
Skinner turns to Colette, gives her a withering smile.
SKINNER Since you have expressed such an interest in his cooking career, you should be responsible for it.
Colette’s face falls. Skinner turns to the other cooks.
SKINNER Anyone else? Hmm? (they look away) Then back to work!
The cooks resume their work. Skinner wheels on Linguini.
SKINNER You are either very lucky or very unlucky. You will make the soup again, and this time I’ll be paying attention. Very close attention.
Off to the side, REMY has almost made it to the window.
SKINNER (CONT’D) They think you might be a cook. But you know what I think, Linguini? I think you’re a sneaky, overreaching little... (Gasps, sees Remy escaping) --RAAAAT!!!
REMY RUNS. The OTHER COOKS come after him. Skinner SWINGS a MOP at Remy, breaking dishes and blocking his escape. HORST Get the rat! SKINNER Linguini! Get a something to trap it in!!
HORST It's getting away! Get it, get it, get it!
Linguini CLAPS a jar over Remy. Seals it.
LINGUINI [has trapped Remy in a jar] What should I do now?
SKINNER No, not in the kitchen! Are you mad? Do you know what would happen to us if anyone knew we had a rat in our kitchen? They’d close us down!! Our reputation is hanging by a thread as it is. Take it away from here. Far away. Kill it, dispose of it. Go!
Linguini nods and quickly EXITS the kitchen’s back door.
ALLEY BEHIND GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS - NIGHT
Linguini hops aboard a bicycle and peddles into the gloom, carrying Remy in the jar with him.
The waterfront, normally so beautiful, seems dark and forboding this night. Linguini slows his bicycle and pulls up under a street lamp near a bridge underpass. He climbs off the bicycle and prepares to drop the jar into the water. Remy is PETRIFIED. His heart racing, he presses his paws against the glass, staring at Linguini with terrified eyes. Linguini HESITATES... then PULLS BACK, shouting at Remy.
LINGUINI Don’t look at me like that! You aren’t the only one who’s trapped. They expect me to cook it again! (Remy looks up: HUH?) I’m not ambitious, I wasn’t trying to cook, I was just trying to stay out of trouble. You’re the one who was getting fancy with the spices! What’d you throw in there? Oregano? (Remy SHAKES HEAD: “NO”) No? What, rosemary? (Again, Remy shakes head) That’s a spice, isn’t it? Rosemary? (At this Remy NODS) You didn’t put rosemary in there?
Remy shakes his head. Linguini SLUMPS down on the bank, sets the Remy jar next to him.
LINGUINI I need this job. I’ve lost so many. I don’t know how to cook and now I’m talking to a rat as if you actually understand what I’m say-- (sudden realization) --did you NOD?? You UNDERSTAND ME??
(Remy NODS) So I’m not crazy. Wait a second, wait a second. I can’t cook. Can I? (Remy shakes his head) But you can. Right? (Remy thinks uncertainly) Don’t be so modest, you’re a rat for Pete’s sake. Whatever you did, they liked it. (lost in thought) Yeah. This could work. Hey, they liked the soup--
With an expansive gesture Linguini accidentally KNOCKS REMY’S JAR INTO THE SEINE. Horrified, Linguini DIVES IN after it.
JUMP CUT TO: ALONG BANKS OF SEINE - MINUTES LATER
Linguini sits on a bench, soaking wet, the jar with Remy successfully retrieved and sitting next to him.
LINGUINI They liked the soup. You think you could... do it again? (Remy NODS) I’m gonna let you go. But we’re together on this. Right? (Remy NODS again) Okay.
Linguini sets the jar down on its side and carefully OPENS the lid . Remy looks up at him... and TAKES OFF, escaping into the darkness. CACKLING as he runs, Remy LOOKS BACK at REMY’S POV: PULLING AWAY FROM LINGUINI --who stands forlorn and alone under the bridge.
He slows to a stop, moved by this pitiful sight. WITH LINGUINI He SIGHS, defeated. Turns sadly to his bicycle. Then a SOUND: the CLICKING of tiny claws on cement. Linguini looks up--
REMY, very cautiously, is coming toward him, back into the light. Remy looks at Linguini... who SMILES.
Darkness. we hear KEYS fumbling in a lock. Linguini KICKS the warped door a few times, opening it enough to enter, and wrestle his bicycle through. He turns on a light, REVEALING-- -a tiny, odd-shaped room; two doors in the wall; one a bathroom, the other a closet, both tiny. One window, a table with two chairs. Hotplate. A miniscule, ancient refrigerator. A ratty couch doubles as a bed, a portable black & white t.v. rests precariously on one arm.
LINGUINI This is it. It’s not much, but it’s- (he looks around) --not much. (to Remy, shrugs) Could be worse; there’s heat and light and a couch with a TV. So, y’know-- what’s mine is yours.
Remy looks over the new digs. He likes them just fine.
Fast asleep on the couch, Linguini is bathed in the flickering light from an old and very romantic FRENCH MOVIE on TV. TWO LOVERS stand handsomely in the swirling steam of a soon to depart locomotive, staring into each other’s eyes--
HER (TV) * Are you-- is this... a dream? *
HIM (TV) The best kind of dream. One we can share. *
Tucked in to an OVEN MITT near the window sill, REMY gazes dreamily at the lights of Paris. The romantic MOVIE MUSIC swells, underscoring his emotions.
HER (OS TV) * But why here? Why now? *
HIM (OS TV) Why not here? Why not now? What better place to dream... * than in Paris? *
Remy grins, slowly closes his eyes. Dreaming.
LINGUINI’S FLAT - MORNING
Linguini AWAKENS with a start. He looks up at the oven mitt--
LINGUINI Morning, little Chef. Rise and sh--
--and suddenly realizes REMY IS GONE.
LINGUINI Idiot! I knew this would happen! I let a rat into my place and tell him what’s mine is his?
Linguini yanks open the refrigerator door and looks inside.
LINGUINI Eggs GONE! STUPID! He’s stolen food and hit the road! What’d I expect? That’s what I get for trusting a rats!
Linguini moves around the tiny alcove HE SEES-- --REMY, quite pleased with himself as he cooks omelettes on the hotplate. Two places have been set at the tiny table.
LINGUINI Wh--? Hey. What-- is that for me?
Remy nods and deftly (but with considerable effort) sets the large omelette onto Linguini’s plate. Linguini sits and puts a forkful into his mouth.
LINGUINI It’s good. What’d you put in this? (Remy holds up basil leaf) Where’d you get that?
Remy moves to the window and points to the roof garden of a nearby flat. Linguini looks down at the enterprising rat.
LINGUINI Look. It’s delicious. But don’t steal. I’ll buy some spices, okay?
Remy shrugs and turns to eat. Linguini glances at his clock.
LINGUINI Oh no. We’re gonna be late, and on the first day!
Linguini SHOVES the rest of the eggs into his mouth and grabs his coat. Famished, Remy opens wide, ready for his first bite of food, when Linguini snatches him up---
LINGUINI Ca’mon, little Chef!
--and runs out of the apartment.
GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - MORNING
The cooks are circled around Colette, listening with interest as she reads a review aloud from the morning paper.
COLETTE “Though I, like many other critics, had written off Gusteau’s as irrelevant since the great Chef’s death, the soup was a revelation, a spicy yet subtle taste experience.”
Skinner has ENTERED, and is now stopped in his tracks.
SKINNER (stunned) LeClaire...?
COLETTE Yes...! (resumes reading) ”Against all odds, Gusteau’s has recaptured our attention. Only time will tell if they deserve it.”
IN ALLEY OUTSIDE GUSTEAU’S
Linguini waits outside, Remy in palm, staring uncomfortably at the kitchen entrance, working up the nerve to go inside.
Aware he can’t enter the kitchen carrying a rat, Linguini looks half heartedly for places to conceal Remy; under his shirt, up his sleeves, in his sock-- rejecting each in turn. Out of ideas, Linguini slowly opens the top of his pants. Remy looks up at him, APPALLED.
LINGUINI (desperate) Look, I know it’s weird and stupid, but neither of us can do this alone. So we gotta do it together, right? You with me??
Remy gives a reluctant NOD. Linguini glares at the kitchen entrance, psyching himself up--
LINGUINI So... LETS DO THIS THING!!
The back door SLAMS OPEN. All heads swing to a slightly crazed LINGUINI standing in the doorway. He wilts a bit with the attention, and attempts to cross inconspicuously to his station, the hidden rat causing a strangely spastic lurch. The other COOKS watch with bewildered amusement. Linguini arrives at his station and looks uneasily at the new TOQUE resting there: his new toque. He swallows, placing it on his head, and suddenly notices Skinner standing there.
SKINNER Welcome to hell. Now... recreate the soup. Take as long as you need, all week if you must.
Skinner EXITS. Linguini looks at his station with dread, a blocked writer facing a blank page.
LINGUINI’S STATION - MINUTES LATER
Raw soup stock bubbles at a low boil on the stove. Linguini stares at the variety carefully prepared of ingredients-- herbs, spices, diced vegetables, etc that have been and laid out at his station. He’s completely unsure of where to start. REMY peeks out from Linguini’s collar and examines the scene. He scrambles underneath Linguini’s shirt and across his chest, tickling him. Linguini LAUGHS. Remy’s head pops out from Linguini’s SHIRT CUFF, sees Linguini reaching for a SPICE TIN; the WRONG spice. Remy signals Linguini to stop, but Linguini pays no attention, so--
--Remy gives Linguini’s HAND a NIP. Linguini YELPS-- dropping the entire spice tin INTO THE SOUP. Appalled, Remy gives Linguini an admonishing bite-- Linguini YELPS and CURSES, SWATS Remy in retaliation. Remy scurries to the other arm (GIGGLE) and gives Linguini another nip (more YELPS & CURSINGS). The OTHER COOKS marvel at the strangeness of the spastic, giggling, yelping Linguini. Visibly panicked, the giggling/yelping Linguini TURNS, lurching from his station to the food safe, and closing himself inside.
INSIDE FOOD VAULT - CONTINUOUS
Linguini RIPS his shirt open, exposing his chest and arms, which are covered in angry red BITE MARKS.
LINGUINI AAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!!! (looks at Remy accusingly) AAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!!! (gestures at bite marks) AAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!!!
Remy stares at the nearly hysterical Linguini.
LINGUINI This is NOT gonna work, little chef! I am gonna LOSE IT if we do this any more. We gotta figure out something else. Something that doesn’t involve any biting or nipping or running up and down my body with your little rat feet. The biting; NO. Scampering; NO. No scampering or scurrying. Understand, little chef? (beat) Little chef...?
Remy’s gaze has drifted away from Linguini, to the shelves LOADED with premium food. Remy looks weak with longing.
LINGUINI Oh... you’re hungry.
Guilty, Linguini breaks a chunk from a round of cheese and offers it to Remy, who scarfs it down. Linguini, calmer now, straightens his clothes as he thinks out loud.
LINGUINI Okay... the way I see it; you know how to cook. And I know how... to appear... human. We just need to work out a system so that I do what you want in a way that doesn’t look like I’m being controlled by a tiny rat chef oh WOULD YOU LISTEN TO ME? I’M INSANE I’M INSANE I’M INSIDE A REFRIGERATOR TALKING TO A RAT ABOUT GOURMET COOKING I WILL NEVER PULL THIS OFF--
KITCHEN - OUTSIDE FOOD VAULT
Passing the food vault Skinner hears a VOICE from within.
Remy, still eating, listens as Linguini pours his heart out.
LINGUINI -we gotta communicate! I can’t be!
checking for a yes or no head shake from a rat then Suddenly the vault door JERKS OPEN. THREE THINGS HAPPEN FAST: 1) Skinner sees a fleeting glimpse of LINGUINI WITH REMY. 2) Linguini HITS THE LIGHT SWITCH-- the room GOES DARK. 3) Skinner instantly FLICKS THE LIGHTS BACK ON to see-- --Linguini standing exactly as before. But Remy is GONE.
SKINNER The rat! I saw it!
SKINNER (searching about Linguini) Yes, yes, a rat! Right next to you! (stops, suspicious) What are you doing in here???
LINGUINI I’m just familiarizing myself with-- y’know, the vegetables... and such.
Linguini makes a hasty exit. Skinner calls out after him.
SKINNER One can get too familiar with vegetables you know!
Linguini speaks to Remy, who he’s hidden under his TOQUE--
LINGUINI That was close. You okay up there?
Remy’s surroundings are visible through the thin fabric. He looks up AND SEES they are about to COLLIDE with-- --a WAITER CARRYING A TRAY PILED WITH DISHES. Remy YANKS BACK LINGUINI’S HAIR like horses REINS, CAUSING LINGUINI
--to jerk backwards in an impossible limbo-arch, pivoting under the tray of dishes-- --and BACK UP AGAIN, miraculously averting disaster. Linguini blinks in amazement: what just happened? He ducks into the--
LINGUINI removes his toque, looks at Remy in the mirror.
LINGUINI How did you do that??
Still grasping hanks of Linguini’s hair in his paws, Remy SHRUGS. Linguini’s shoulders SHOOT UP to his ears. Startled, Remy drops his arms; Linguini’s shoulders drop.
A gleam comes into the rats’ eyes. He JERKS the left hank, causing Linguini’s LEFT ARM to SHOOT UP IN THE AIR.
LINGUINI (marveling) Wow. That’s strangely involuntaREEE
Remy is yanking tufts of Linguini’s hair like a kid with a new toy. Linguini jerks around like a helpless puppet. Remy stops, looks at the panting Linguini in the mirror.
REMY (V.O.) One look and I knew, each of us had the same crazy idea...
LINGUINI’S FLAT - NIGHT (MONTAGE: LEARNING TO COOK)
Using hanks of Linguini’s hair to control Linguini’s actions, Remy pilots Linguini(who is blindfolded to keep him from cheating) through an increasingly complex series of cooking tasks, everything from cutting vegetables to flipping crepes. During this comic montage we see Remy learning precisely how to pilot Linguini, and at the same time, Linguini is learning how to surrender himself to being “piloted”. By dawn, Linguini and Remy have meshed into one finely honed cooking machine.
DISSOLVE TO: KITCHEN - NEXT DAY
Linguini stands off to the side, fretting as Skinner pulls a ladle of soup from a Linguini’s pot and tastes it.
SKINNER Congratulations. You were able to repeat your accidental success. But you will need to know more than soup, if you are to survive in my kitchen, boy.
Colette-- Skinner gestures to COLETTE, who watches with a scowl.
SKINNER (CONT’D) --will be responsible for teaching you how we do things here. Skinner grins and EXITS. Linguini crosses to Colette.
LINGUINI (a little too smooth) Listen, I just want you to know how honored I am to be studying under a
Colette STABS a knife through Linguini’s shirtsleeve, pinning it to the table. Her voice is low, intense.
COLETTE No, you listen! I just want you to know exactly who you are dealing with! How many women do you see in this kitchen?
LINGUINI Well, I hah--- um--
She brings a second knife down through Linguini’s sleeve--
COLETTE Only me. Why do you think that is?
LINGUINI (spooked, sputtering) Well... huh--! I... hoo...
COLETTE Because Haute Cuisine is an antiquated hierarchy built upon rules written by stupid old men, rules designed to make it impossible for women to enter this world. But still I am here! How did this happen?
Linguini burbles in a desperate attempt at nonchalance.
LINGUINI Because... you, ah-- hah...
Colette SLAMS a third knife through Linguini’s sleeve, thoroughly pinning it. Linguini is truly frightened.
COLETTE Because I’m the toughest cook in this kitchen! I’ve worked too hard for too long to get here, and I’m not going to jeopardize it for some garbage boy who got lucky! Got it?
Linguini NODS pathetically. Colette pulls the knife handles out with a single JERK and Linguini topples to the floor. Colette EXITS. Linguini peeks over the counter, dazzled.
