All language subtitles for Fantasy Island - S03E02 - Goose for the Gander, The Stuntman.eng

(BELL TOLLING)

The plane! The plane!

(BIRD CAWING)

(GIRLS GIGGLING)

Good morning, boss.

Oh, you look so great.
You look so fantastic.

Well, thank you, Tattoo.

The, uh, boutonniere,
may I ask what it's for?

Oh, the boutonniere,
it's for you, boss.

Bend down. There you are.

You're going to look smashing.

There you are. Oh,
you look fantastic.

Really beautiful.

Can I do anything for
you, boss? Anything else?

Tattoo, why am I suspicious?

Suspicious? You?

Uh, well, gosh, uh,
boss, I don't know.

Uh, perhaps it is because you seem to be
trying to kill me with all this kindness.

And that usually means
something is definitely wrong.

Wrong?

(CLEARS THROAT)

Oh, here comes the rover.

Come on, boss, we don't
want to be late. Let's go.

Wait, boss.

Oh, hold it.

Uh, Tattoo... Hey, boss.

We don't want our guests to
be waiting. Come on, let's go.

There you are. Are
you all right, boss?

Yes.

Okay, let's go. Go.

Smiles, everyone. Smiles.

ROARKE: Mr. and Mrs. Peter
Rawlings from Hollywood, California.

Hollywood? Yes.

Are they famous movie
star or something?

Or something.

Huh?

Yes, you see, while
Mr. Rawlings isn't exactly famous,

you have seen him in many of
your favorite movies and didn't notice.

TATTOO: I didn't? You didn't.

You see, for the past 23
years before his retirement,

Mr. Rawlings was
Hollywood's premiere stuntman.

What's his fantasy, boss?

Mrs. Rawlings believes they are here so
Mr. Rawlings can be reunited with his son,

who is currently one of
Hollywood's top stuntmen.

You see, after a
bitter argument,

father and son haven't
spoken in the last five years.

But there is something more.

Something that Mr. Rawlings
didn't tell his wife.

Oh, indeed there is, Tattoo.

You see, Mr. Rawlings' real
fantasy is to save his son's life.

His son's life? Is he in danger?

Mr. Rawlings thinks so.

You see, he feels that his son
has never stopped competing

with the legend
Mr. Rawlings left behind.

With each picture, his stunts
become more dangerous, more daring.

Until now, Mr. Rawlings has stayed
on the sidelines and remained silent.

Until now? What will happen now?

Mrs. Marjorie Gibbs, all the
way from Santa Fe, New Mexico,

where she operates the Ace
Truck Stop Fast Food Grill.

Mrs. Gibbs' fantasy is
to compete in and win

the Fantasy Island Grand
Cuisine and Cookery Contest.

Her? In our cooking contest?

ROARKE: Yes. Well, you see, a new
freeway bypassed her establishment,

so all of her old customers, the
long-haul truckers on Highway Five,

have contributed
money to send her here.

Mrs. Gibbs hopes that winning our
cookery contest will give her the money

to relocate her
restaurant on a new route.

But, boss, some of the most famous chefs
in the world are here for our contest.

How does she hope to win?

My dear guests, I am
Mr. Roarke, your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

(BIKE REVVING)

All right, and action!

(GROANS)

DORMA: Look, there's Bill.

(GUN FIRES)

DIRECTOR: Cut it! Print!

Hey, made you look
like a million dollars.

(LAUGHING)

(SIGHS)

Dynamite! Oh, kick-block!

You guys all right? No.

Hank might've
broke his arm, boss.

Come on, he's a tough old boy.

Easy, Bill.

Bill, I told you
somebody could get hurt.

Don't be so uptight, Paul.

(SIGHS)

Well, I see retirement
agrees with you both.

You look like an
ad for a health spa.

Did you ever consider
getting off your royal duff

and getting back into harness?

Uh... Hi, Mom.

Oh, Billy!

You look great. Excuse me.

Hey, Jim, I got a small
problem on the next gag.

Oh? Billy.

Aren't you gonna say
hello to your father?

Hi, Pete. Uh, like I said, Jim,

I've got a problem
setting up the next stunt.

Cleve Mitchell was
gonna take the fall, right?

He was supposed to be
in on last night's plane,

only he missed connections
and now I'm one man short.

If it's okay with you, I'd
like Butch to take that fall.

I thought Butch was gonna be your
safety man in case you had a problem?

Not gonna have a problem.

Besides, this way it'll be
a more spectacular stunt.

Perhaps Mr. Rawlings
could fill in.

What?

No way.

Aren't you letting your
personal feelings interfere

with your judgments,
Mr. Rawlings?

But he hasn't
worked in five years.

Still in pretty good
shape. I could handle it.

I said no way.

I'm the stunt
coordinator and I said no.

Bill, I'm sorry to
pull rank on you,

but you know the kind of
schedule that we've got.

And I just can't afford
to lose any more men.

Now, you're the stunt coordinator
and you call all the shots.

But let's let your
dad fill in on this one.

Get yourself to wardrobe, get
outfitted and meet me at the cliffs.

Pete, exactly what
are you doing?

Look, it's all right.
I can handle it.

And it might give father
and son the opportunity

to view each other from a somewhat
different perspective, Mrs. Rawlings.

Exactly.

You go on with Mr. Roarke, honey,
and don't worry about anything.

I'll see you after we wrap.

Mr. Roarke, my fantasy was
for a father and son reunion,

not for a twin funeral.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Oh, my goodness. Look
at all that beautiful food.

Yes, it is rather
impressive, isn't it? Oh, yes.

Ah, Mr. Lange, so
nice to see you again.

Ah, Mr. Joe Lange, this
is Mrs. Marjorie Gibbs,

one of your competitors.

Charmed, I'm sure.

(CHUCKLING) Likewise.

We're gonna have
a very tasty fantasy.

Oh, I would say so, yes.

We have the superstar
of the gourmet world.

Does that mean that
I don't have a prayer?

Oh, Mrs. Gibbs,
where is your faith?

This is Fantasy Island.

I wouldn't have agreed to your
fantasy if you didn't have a chance.

However, as Tattoo said,

they are the best
chefs in the world.

Carlo Franconi from Italy.

Mikael Gabor from Budapest.

Oh, look at that.

Yes. Antoine de Vouvray,
one of the great chefs of France.

Isn't that so, Tattoo?

Oh, yes, boss.

At least he was.

His famed Paris
restaurant, Chez Antoine,

was recently demoted from three
stars to one on the gourmet guide.

You might be wary
of him, Mrs. Gibbs.

It is said he is a
desperate man.

He can only regain his reputation
by winning this weekend here.

Well, I'm not afraid
of competition.

Not too much.

ROARKE: That's
the right attitude.

Now, the grading will be continued
under the direction of our chief judge,

George Boufetu, the world
famed authority on haute cuisine.

Come, let me introduce you.

A bit thin on the bourbon, yeah.

George.

George Boufetu.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

I did not know that you
were going to do the judging.

Might even be hard-pressed
on this one, old boy.

You've only one
star left to lose.

After this, it's running one
of those junk food franchises

that are so infesting
the colonies, boy.

(GEORGE CHUCKLING)

Oh, look how cute we are.

She's too cute to cook.

I'm not going to cook it.

Idiot.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

Fresh pate.

Patty.

What a super name for
a goose. And she's a girl.

Good heavens. Who's
this? The scullery wench?

Mr. Boufetu, may I
introduce our last contestants?

Must you?

Mrs. Marjorie Gibbs
and Mr. Joe Lange.

Charmed, I'm sure.

I am certain our new contestants
would like to see the kitchen.

Tattoo, will you show the way?

This way, please.

Mr. Roarke.

Oh, really, Roarke, if these
two oddities give me ptomaine,

I shall sue you for
this entire island.

I am certain that will not
be necessary, Mr. Boufetu.

Well, couldn't you simply tell these
peasants that pate is goose liver

and not the silly bird's name?

Somehow I got the impression
they wouldn't like to know.

Hey, old timer!

Hey, let's wreck something, huh?

The world's oldest
semi-living stuntman.

Thought they'd have you
stuffed and hanging in a museum.

Now, how are you, Snuff?

I'm doing better
now that you're here.

Maybe you can talk some
sense into boy wonder.

Yeah. Listening to me was never
one of that boy's strong points.

But I appreciate your telegram.

Well, you know, I figured
somebody's gotta talk to him

or else he's gonna
get himself killed.

Which one do you
think he'll buy it on?

Here, come on.

Good guys in one boat
chasing the bad guys in the other,

played by two dummies.

One is a department store
mannequin and the other one is your kid.

We get going about
50, 60 miles an hour,

take a couple of shots at him.

Billy takes a hit, veers
off, goes up a ramp,

explodes through
a fuel storage hut,

lands on the other side in
a big ball of flames and, uh,

he's got a switch triggered in the boat
which sets off the charges in the hut.

Gonna need a full burn
suit for that, all right.

Yeah. Airtight and sealed.
Minute and a half air bottle.

He's also got fire
extinguishers in the boat

to put out the fire
when he lands.

It's a great stunt, though.

Almost ingenious.

I agree with you.
It's far too dangerous.

If he doesn't blow
himself up, he'll suffocate.

We're calling it
Rawlings' Folly.

Or suicide.

Well, anyway.

See, I'd never cooked for
anybody but my husband, Matt.

Oh, he just loved good food.

So, when he passed
away, I started up the grill.

I had to do something to,
you know, fight the loneliness.

Yeah, I know. It
helps keep you busy.

Oh, yeah.

(GIGGLES)

Mmm.

Oh, you've got a little
smudge there. Right there.

So you own your own place, huh?

Well, not for too
much longer, I guess.

I don't have much chance
against all the pros around here.

Around people like you.

I'm nothing.

I run an all-night joint in Trenton,
New Jersey, called the Pleasure Palate.

I sort of specialize
in my own spare ribs.

Yeah, anyway, the
guys like what I dish out,

so they took up a collection
to enter me in the contest.

Fat chance against the
French flesh over there.

(ANTOINE SHOUTING)

(GOOSE SQUAWKING)

Oh, Patty, Patty.

(SHUSHING)

Easy.

(SIZZLING)

(GROANS)

(GRUNTS)

Oh, Patty.

No!

Joe!

(QUACKING CONTINUES)

Are you all right, Joe?

Oh, wait, wait. Wait, wait!

You'll only frighten her.

Oh, Patty, darling.

Look who's here. It's Margie.

Yeah, sweetheart.
There, there, there you are.

Oh, good girl. Come on, now.

She's all right. See that?

I never saw a goose
go crazy like that.

What's the matter with her?

Matter?

Nothing is the matter
with the goose, monsieur.

It just refused
to eat. That is all.

Come along. Come on, come on.

Well, maybe she's not hungry.

Yes, but when she's
not hungry, that's...

I'm surrounded by imbeciles.

Out of my quarter,
into your area.

Into your area!

Come, cherie.

Open your mouth. Come
on, now. A little bit more.

Come on. Now you like it, yes.

Yeah, yeah, yes. Don't
say no. Open your mouth.

Well, any man that wants to
play a nursemaid to a goose

can't be all bad.

Uh, yes, Mr. Besler, I am
certain we can fulfill your fantasy.

Yes. Uh-huh.

Uh, how many mermaids?

How many?

Well, that's more
than I anticipated but...

But I'm sure we can
accommodate you, yes.

When do you wish to experience
your fantasy, Mr. Besler?

Well, let me check my calendar.
Just one moment, please.

Um...

Yes, yes, I think those dates
will work out very satisfactorily.

Uh-huh.

Yes. Um...

How many will there
be in your party?

Mr. Besler, something
unexpected has come up.

May I call you back
in a few minutes?

Thank you.

Tattoo.

TATTOO: Yes, boss.

Precisely, what
is going on here?

I'm just trying to
light your pipe, boss.

I haven't smoked
a pipe in years.

All right, out with it.

Just why are you trying so
desperately to kill me with kindness?

Oh, I'm just trying to
earn my keep, boss.

Well, then I will
appreciate it very much

if you earn your keep in
some other less distracting way.

Hmm? Do you understand?

Uh, yes, boss.

Good, Tattoo, good.

(SIGHS)

MAN: Marker.

DIRECTOR: Action!

(GUNS FIRING)

ACTOR: There's nowhere
to go except down.

DIRECTOR: Cut and print.

All right. Let's get the
stunt doubles over here, Bill.

Look, if you think I'm gonna do that
explosion gag tomorrow, you're crazy.

Well, good. Fine.

While you're at it, why don't
you go pick up your paycheck

and take a hike?

JIM: Bill, Pete, you
two guys ready?

Yeah, come on. This is
where you earn your money.

Yeah. Done this
gag a million times.

JIM: You guys ready?
DIRECTOR: Quiet.

Ready when he is.

DIRECTOR: Roll.

Ready.

Marker.

And action!

Well?

Had enough?

What's next?

You may be sorry you asked.

Action!

Are you all right, Pete?

Look, um... Look,
I've been thinking.

Maybe you ought to
quit before something...

Well, you know, how
things can go wrong and...

Well, you're no kid.

Since when are you concerned
with other people's health?

You gonna make that same speech
to the fellow that's gonna drive that boat

through that inferno tomorrow?

Listen, that's my gag,
so you leave it alone.

I even had him write it into the
script before I agreed to do this picture.

It's the one stunt that's gonna
set me apart from the rest of you.

The rest of you.

You mean me.

You think it's the one gag that'll
finally erase the legend of your old man?

You'd drive a boat through the
fires of hell to do that, wouldn't you?

Mmm. I think it's
done. Let's try it.

What's cooking, good-looking?

Well, I'm just testing out
my spinach pie recipe.

I'll cut you both a
piece if you'd like.

Oh, no, that's not fair. I
shouldn't taste your entree.

Oh, go on, try it.

You'll love it.

Mmm.

Wow, this is great.

MARJORIE: My own secret recipe.

I guess that's the best
thing I have ever tasted.

Well, if you want the recipe,
it's right over there on the table.

Not before the judging.

Maybe later, when it's over.

Something wrong?

Oh, no.

I was just thinking.

It's the first time I've been comfortable
with any man since Matt died.

I feel real comfortable, too.

Say, how would you like to
take a walk by the lagoon?

Sure. Lead the way.

See you later, Tattoo.

TATTOO: Have
fun. JOE: Delicious!

(ANTOINE HUMMING)

(QUACKS)

(SHUSHING)

Can you not read English?
You have no right to be here.

This is a gastronomic
top secret.

Sorry, but you will have to
go a long way to beat this.

Have a bite.

What is this? An
insult to Antoine?

Why, I would not even feed it
to my goose to make him sick.

What is this pap?

(STAMMERING)
This concoction. This...

(SPEAKS FRENCH)

Good luck with the contest,
mon ami. You're gonna need it.

(LAUGHING)

Antoine must win.

Antoine must have that recipe.

Hmm. Spinach pie, yes.

Half a cup of bread crumbs.

But, of course. Of course.

This will win Antoine the
four-star rating that he needs.

Yes, of course.

Pete, what's this
really all about?

I mean, what was the real reason
that you came to Fantasy Island?

Was it to be reunited with Bill?

Or was the real reason
that you wanted to pick up

where you left
off five years ago

and continue your insane
version of Russian roulette?

Honey, I love you.

But you're no kid. And you gotta
realize that your career is over

and that Bill is the best.

The best.

Craziest perhaps, but being
the best entails a responsibility.

All he cares about is being
better than his old man.

Half of the stunt men in
Hollywood won't work with him.

Three more that quit today.

Pete, it may sound selfish,

but I really don't care that
much about those other men.

I care about my
husband and my son.

And I don't want to see
either one of them hurt or killed.

I want us to be a family again.

We will be.

But on this one, you're
just gonna have to trust me.

But where would my
spinach pie recipe be?

Think, Marge, where
did you last see it?

It was right here on this table.

Oh, here you are.

I've been looking for
you all over the place.

Antoine has changed his
menu at the last minute.

You better read it.

Look.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

Does that mean
what I think it means?

It does if you think that
it means spinach pie.

Antoine stole your recipe.

He's not gonna
get away with this.

I'm afraid it's too late. He
already has entered it as his own.

And that means that no
one can use his recipe.

You mean, I can't
enter my spinach pie?

I'm sorry.

You said Patty was on the menu.

Not exactly. Only her liver.

Her liver?

It's not Patty, it's pate.

You see, to make
pate de foie gras,

first you take a goose and
you make her liver grow big.

And then you kill her, and
then you serve her liver.

And that's what you
call pate de foie gras.

Over my dead body. He
may have stolen my recipe,

but he's not gonna touch Patty.

Oh, I don't care
whose goose she is.

Oh, poor baby.

Oh, Antoine's not gonna
touch a hair on your head.

Actually, it's feathers.

She looks green
around the gills.

Let's get her out of here.

Okay.

(SHOUTING)

My goose.

Marge.

They took my goose.
My goose was there. I...

Hey, stop! Give me
that! Give me that!

There goes another
wild goose chase.

ANTOINE: Stop! Stop!
Give me that goose.

This is the most insulting thing
that has ever happened to me!

(MUMBLING)

I demand your resignation!

(MUMBLING)

My ducks! My ducks!
You spilled my ducks!

My duck. My feet! My goose!

(SPEAKING FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

Chop suey!

There you are, Mr. Vouvray.

I thought I'd find
you in the kitchen.

My friend, it is of no use.

No, no, no. My
goose, she is cooked.

Well, that's not unusual
in a cookery contest.

No, you do not understand. I
don't mean cooked, cooked.

I mean cooked, gone.

They stole my goose.

But, Antoine, he's
never ruined, no.

Because I have another
hole up my sleeve.

Antoine will have his revenge,
monsieur. Ah, yes. Ah, yes.

Well, Tattoo, it seems what is sauce
for the goose is sauce for the gander.

Huh?

Morning.

Morning, Jim.

I had a visit from two of
the stuntmen this morning.

They wanted me to know
that the stuntmen got together

and took a vote last night.

About Billy?

They want me to replace
him as stunt coordinator.

He's gonna buck like a
bronco, you know that.

Yeah, well, there's
one more thing.

They want you to replace him.

BILL: Jim!

There is a rumor that you're
pulling me off this picture. Well?

Listen, Bill, great stuntmen don't
necessarily make great stunt coordinators.

Besides, I'm nine days behind schedule
and I can't afford any more delays.

So, let me guess. You
asked him to take over, right?

Yeah, that's right.

But you can stay on and
work with him, if you like.

I'd sooner be dead.

Sorry about your kid, Pete.
It was bound to happen.

Now we can relax. Forget
about Rawlings' Folly

and finish this picture.

The stunt will be on, Snuff.

You're kidding.

You're not.

The stunt will be on. We'll
do it first thing in the morning.

I'll be in the lead boat.

You and Casey'll be
in the second boat.

Get everything ready
and I'll see you there.

You're crazy.

You said it was suicide. Now, what
in the hell are you trying to prove?

Maybe I'm trying
to prove I'm a father.

She looks better,
don't you think?

Yeah.

But she still looks
green around the quills.

Ah, there you are, my friends.

Don't you know that a
contest is about to be decided?

We're both
withdrawing, Mr. Roarke.

Withdrawing?

Well, are you convinced
that it's the proper thing to do?

What would your customers at
the Pleasure Palate think of man

who quits after they
pay your entry fee

with their own, hard-earned
money, Mr. Lange?

Oh, he's right.

Just because I'm out of the
contest doesn't mean you have to be.

Mr. Lange?

We'll try it on one condition.

What is that?

That you keep Patty safe for us.

And we can be entered as a team.

It's a deal.

(PATTY QUACKING)

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

the surprise you've
all been waiting for.

Spinach pie a la
Antoine de Vouvray.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Boss, that's it. The dirty rat.

He stole Marge's recipe.

Tattoo. Tattoo.

Forget it, boss. The fix is on.

Bravo, Antoine.

A canvas of classic beauty.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

You know, I'm satisfied,
no matter what comes now.

I've tasted the
garden of paradise.

(TATTOO WHISTLES)

Ladies and gentlemen, may
I have your attention, please?

A last minute announcement.

Our contestants, Mrs.
Gibbs and Mr. Lange,

have combined their talents
and are now entered as a team.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Good luck. Thank you.

JOE: Enjoy. Enjoy, sir.

Spare Ribs a la Joe and Marge.

You must be joking.

This looks like the leftovers
from a cannibal tribe's leftovers.

In any way, I've already
had several full meals...

Perhaps you should
try a small taste.

You wouldn't want to embarrass
them in front of all these people.

They are, after all, the
final contestants so, uh...

Very well, Roarke. My
stomach will be on your head.

We did it! We did it!

Ladies and gentlemen,
there hardly is any dissent.

The winner of the Fantasy Island
Grand Cuisine and Cookery Contest

is the team of Mrs.
Gibbs and Mr. Lange.

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

They stole my goose!

Antoine claims foul!

Foul? Yes!

You've got a lot of
nerve after what you did!

I?

What you do not
understand, monsieur,

is if I could have won, it would
have meant everything to Antoine!

If I could have won, I could
have saved my restaurant!

Antoine's papa was the
founder of the restaurant.

And so, what neither of you...

(LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY)

So, you think that's fancy?

Oh, you would not dare.
You would not dare...

BILL: Mr. Roarke, I'd like to
know what's going on here.

Mr. Rawlings,

I assure you I had nothing
to do with your losing your job.

As for your stunt...

I put a lot of time
into that stunt.

I have visualized
every millisecond

of how I'm gonna do that
stunt a thousand times.

I know everything
that'll happen.

I know everything
that can go wrong.

And I'm telling you, he can't
do it, Mr. Roarke. He'll get killed.

Well, why are you telling me?

Why don't you tell your father?

Are you kidding? He
wouldn't listen to me.

The same way you wouldn't listen
to what he was trying to tell you

five years ago, huh?

What? What are
you talking about?

Isn't it possible that
you have misunderstood

your father's motives all along?

No, no. please, please.
Let me finish, let me finish.

That maybe, as far
as he was concerned,

there never was any competition
between the two of you.

That he was trying the
only way he knew how

to do what every
loving father tries to do.

To give his son the
benefit of his experience.

To teach him his
limitations. Yes, Mr. Rawlings.

To help him mold his future.

Your father believes
that if you try your stunt,

you won't have any future.

Well, if he thinks
that it'd kill me,

what makes him think
he can live through it?

Perhaps he doesn't.

But maybe he feels it's the only
way to make you understand.

To make you stop
competing with his legend.

Well, that's crazy.

Why?

I think the word is love.

DIRECTOR: This is too close.
We're gonna have to take it back.

Pete, this is suicidal.

Talk Jim Heston into dropping
this stunt, or at least modifying it.

It's too late, Dorma.

Now, it's something
I've got to do.

Pete, please.

Pete, I don't want
you to do this stunt.

It's too dangerous

and now that I've had
a chance to analyze it,

I don't think it can be done.

And I don't think I understand.

Well, uh,

let's just say that
I understand now

what you've been trying
to show me all these years.

Oh!

What do you say? Can
I tell Jim the stunt's off?

No.

No, I never signed up
for a stunt I didn't try, Son.

But, now that we have a chance
to be honest with each other,

I gotta agree with you. I
don't think I could do it, either.

I think we'll both agree that
this gag is suicide for one man.

But I'd think about two.

One drives, the other
sets off the charges

and activates the fire
extinguishers when we hit the water.

It can be done!

It is still too dangerous!

No, Mom, we can do it.

We really can, honey.

Besides, we never signed
on for a stunt we didn't try.

(CHUCKLING)

Give us a go-ahead
when you're ready, Pete.

You got it, Snuff.

SNUFFY: Good luck, partner.

Okay, roll the
cameras. Got speed?

Pete, Bill, it's all yours.

Let's go for it, Son.

(GUN FIRING)

PETER: Bill, can you handle it?

Cut. Terrific!

Snuff, get that backup
boat in there right away.

Pete.

You all right?

Yeah. You all right, son?

Oh, yeah. Dad, we did it.

We're the best!
We're number one!

Well, I hope your stay
was a pleasant one.

Oh, it certainly
was, Mr. Roarke.

Yes, yes. Two fantasies
for the price of one.

Two fantasies?

Yeah, I've always wanted to participate
in one of those pie-throwing fights.

Me, too.

Oh, and I would say that Patty's
health seems much improved.

Yes. And I'm keeping her
on a strict no junk food diet.

If you ever get up to Trenton,
New Jersey, will you look us up?

We will, we will.

Well, have a pleasant journey.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Bye-bye.

Goodbye.

Hello.

What a pleasant sight it
is to see you all reunited.

You know, it feels good, too,

now that Dad and I have
bridged the communication gap.

Mr. Rawlings, what
are you going to do?

Are you going to go
back to stunt work?

No. I don't think so, Tattoo.

Matter of fact, Bill and I are talking
about opening up a stunt school.

I can see it all now.
"Rawlings and Son."

I don't know. Maybe
"Rawlings and Father." Huh?

Come on, you.

Thank you so much, Mr. Roarke.

You're very welcome,
Mrs. Rawlings.

Thank you. Mr. Rawlings.

Goodbye. Goodbye, Mr. Rawlings.

Boss, you know what?
You're really the greatest.

Really, Tattoo?

Uh-huh.

In what way?

In every way, boss. You
make so many people so happy.

Well, that's the
business I'm in.

But you do it so well.

Well.

Uh-oh.

What's wrong?

Nothing that I cannot fix. Wait.

(WHISTLES)

Thank you.

All right, boss.

Put your foot there.

(TATTOO WHISTLING)

Tattoo, I'm getting
suspicious again.

Boss, stand still.

I'm gonna make your shoes
look like they were new.

All right, Tattoo, this is it.

I insist that you explain why you are
still attempting to kill me with kindness.

You pinned a boutonniere
on me, brought my slippers,

tried to light my pipe,
which I no longer smoke,

feather dusted me, shined my
shoes and I don't know at all why.

Why? Why?

Boss, don't you get it?

No, I most certainly
do not get it.

Well, it's because of
this newspaper article.

The ad you put in it.

Read it.

(WHISTLING)

"Wanted. Assistant manager."

Tattoo? Yes, boss?

Tattoo, did you think... Oh,
now, now. That's impossible.

That's all right, boss.
Say it. I can take it.

Tattoo, are you under the
impression that I was planning to...

Fire me? That's what
you wanted to do?

Now, listen to me,
Tattoo, now listen.

It is true that I placed an
ad for an assistant manager.

Now, that's true. But
it was for the hotel.

Hotel? Yes.

You mean you're
not gonna fire me?

The day I fire you,
my dear Tattoo,

will be the day that
birds no longer fly.

Oh boss, thank you so much.

(COOING)

Fly. Hey, come on.

Get away from here. Fly.

(BOTH LAUGHING)