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Lord,

don't You ever tire of me,

a sinner whose ass has been plucked 100,000 times?

Dear God, never let me give up!

Keep alive in me forever

this dirty desire for love,

this throb that saves me from death,

this hellish hope that makes my heart beat faster,

this lamentable longing for young flesh!

I'm an old bitch, Dear God of Infinite Goodness!

- Shit! - What's wrong?

I have to go.

Not to see that old lady again?

Yes!

Bastard!

Not at all!

Bastard!

My respects, Milady!

You're late.

The chef needed me.

You smell of a female in heat, not dishwater nor stuffed crab!

- Feel good? - Yes.

Did you have time to go soft?

Barely.

Very touching.

- Shall we go? - Going, going, gone! For 500 francs!

- You slept well? - Of course not!

Waiting youth or old age asleep a rendez-vous with death will keep.

You're not old!

You're the sweetest tiger I've ever known.

Now tell me how you skewered that chick at the hotel.

But I swear...

Please! No false modesty!

The details, Lambert!

I want all the details.

Here you are! You startled me.

Need say it again?

You'll catch your death in that dress in the water.

Notice anything?

Your solitaire?

I feel naked without it, old cock.

- Stolen? - Yes!

- Any suspects? - A certainty!

Who?

The beachboy! His hands are oilier

than a girl's butt getting a tan.

He slipped it right off!

Quite an accomplishment, my lovely! Shall we file the charges?

Of course not, my love.

- Shall I dry you off? - No I must be what I am.

You're going to the Mazuriers like that?

And why not?

THE OLD LADY WHO WALKED IN THE SEA

Is that cherub yours?

Sorry! Maybe I'm being indiscreet.

Not at all! He's Muruel's boy.

I'm divorced.

Pompilius Senaresco is a photographic genius.

You are, my sweet.

Your portraits are marvelous! Don't be falsely modest.

We couldn't resist taking some surreptitious shots of the boy.

Yes, I think I did a good job.

Especially on the telephoto portraits.

Look!

Do you know the ne plus ultra in photo development?

Of course not, lambkin.

It's almost culinary! A drop of vinegar

in the final rinse water.

I beg your pardon for this little indiscretion.

I can't resist beauty.

Love's beautiful.

They're very good.

- May I keep them? - Yes, I have more.

I trust you'll store them in a safe place.

I bet the little man's father was white, Muriel.

He's hardly dark at all.

Isn't your wife a Mitron-Lasauge?

And you have a private mansion on Belgian Boulevard in Lyon,

near Gilt-Head Park?

Imagine Marie-Th�r�se's chaste cheeks

upon seeing such moments of happiness.

You know my wife?

Who doesn't know the chosen few with such a fortune?

- You had to be... - Have been!

...quite clever to marry her.

He resembles you, Mazurier.

He must be a mimic.

What do you want?

I recall a Transylvanian prince

who resembled his presumed papa like 2 peas in a pod

but was a 1st-class bastard.

Help me up, my precious Pompilius.

It is time that we will go.

- Should go. - Yes.

What've I done?

I'm sick of being alone on an island.

Alone? Stop it!

I'm sure lots of girls come to see you, eh?

- Do you know Paris? - I live there.

I miss Paris.

That's all you have to say?

I'm sick of blue. Blue sky... blue sea...

Your blue dress.

I want a gray rainy street.

I'll cheer you up!

I don't want you.

Go on! Get out!

Me, Tarzan! You, cow!

Shit! Goddamn shit!

- I'll give it back. - If you please...

Your bathing suit had no pockets.

Where did you hide my ring? In you mouth?

Elsewhere would be shocking.

Got scissors?

Upstairs.

And get a chair too.

Your scalp.

This is not revenge but esthetics.

That ponytail didn't suit you.

We must go now, my dear.

Nor does this silly stone.

You're a pretty cute guy, Lambert. Why doll yourself up like a broad?

Open my bag, Pompilius.

Thank you.

Your new look suits you much better. See?

- Right, darling? - Ravishing!

You felt blue?

Sort of...

Because of my ring, I hope.

Maybe.

It was my 1st time.

Anyway, Milady, I'd have given it back to you.

My dearest, it'll be rush hour in the dining room!

Don't be so impatient, you old has-been.

I'm rich and old

but I'm still very active.

I have no one in the world but this old friend,

who's an ex-lover and is still my accomplice.

Would you like to be my dauphin?

- Your dauphin? - Be with me,

warm me with your presence.

The Antilles are nice for a week but if you stay,

you'll cry every day like today.

Would you like to give it a try and come with us?

Speak up, lad! Do you want to be her dauphin?

At first Pompilius will be jealous and sulk but

he'll soon get used to you and you'll be close friends.

Don't you like adventure?

I do but all this is so unexpected!

What's unexpected is the salt of life!

Trust in my experience, my boy.

We'll be 3 for dinner tonight.

Care for a drink while we wait for the boy?

No, thank you.

My little blossom, you're an old sow in heat.

An incorrigible slut.

Your faded fig flutters at the sight of a young man.

That could be laughable but it makes me cry.

Stop in front of a mirror and out of charity for what's left

look at yourself. A lank old mare ready for the slaughterhouse.

Seeing you... ties such knots in my stomach.

I wonder if I'll be able to dine.

If you don't wish to dine, grimy glaucous old geezer,

screw you!

A starched shirt and creased pants are all that keep you upright.

You don't want to be loved any longer?

You really want to be hated?

Don't worry, droopy Dick, you're on the right path!

If that fossil fondler moves into the house... I'll move out!

He'll move in.

Do you expect that young hood

to dance and diddle on your dried-up belly, Grandma?

The poor boy.

He'll think he's penetrating a mummy.

- Bastard! - Old hag!

You're nothing but an old wreck in a Rolls.

And you're Death, Princess,

covered with jewels and made-up like a carnival whore.

Beat it or I'll fork your balls!

How classy.

'Evening!

- Just the 2 of us? - Yes.

Pompilius has gone to sulk for a while.

While waiting for our old diplomat parked in the back lot

I'll explain to you the essentials to our activity.

How sweet. Flowers!

I got the message.

I was explaining to our young prot�g�

how our enterprise operates.

Here's your 1st mission.

See the couple that just come in over there?

Yes.

His name's Mazurier. He's our client.

Go see him and tell him to meet us later

for a drink at the Beach Comber near the golf club,

while his girlfriend goes to see if the little boy's asleep.

Shall I go now?

Of course.

Queen of my days, have you gone insane?

With tears this fop returned to you

what he'd stolen only hours earlier.

The frisky fool will brag about our exploits

to the 1st doe who gives him her rump.

Fear not, my friend. I know what I'm doing!

Lord, maybe this old fart is right

and my sudden passion is carrying me away.

Let this kid be on the up and up, Lord,

and don't let him shaft us.

Amen.

What a magical land. A simple storm becomes a cataclysm.

Lambert, get a towel for Mr. Mazurier.

No, never mind.

Here, this will warm your blood.

Sit down.

Is the brat asleep?

Years, hours ago.

I'm overwhelmed. I think I shocked you this afternoon

talking like a crazy old lady.

I thought... He'll think it's blackmail!

- Never! - Good. We'd have been distressed...

That's enough.

It seems you're an associate

of Shellingbrook Labs in London and

Blawatz Labs in Basel?

And no training? Bravo!

$8.634.000 in a numbered account

at the Brieggers Bank in Bern according to you last bank statement.

I'm speechless.

Pompilius, my old love wreck,

Our friend Mazurier seems to be upset.

Prove our good faith.

Felis qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas.

Yes, Pompilius is polygamous...

- Polyglot! - It's Serbo-Croatian.

It's Latin!

Who told you?

My powerful organization.

They told me about your phony billing

with France, England and Switzerland.

Congratulations!

How much?

Our commission comes to what amount, wrinkly old man?

One-and-a-half million Swiss francs.

- You're dreaming! - Quite rarely.

It's a reasonable sum.

Too reasonable!

What'll the Finance Minister think about your file?

You'll get jail and a big, fine pal.

Payable to our Zurich bank account.

A neutral country.

What proves you won't back?

We never pluck the same pigeon twice. It's immoral.

- 4 million. - Never!

Four!

We got 4 million!

Listen, asshole!

Henceforth, you'll do as I say, no more than I say,

when I say it and the way I say it!

I'm in command here!

Never hit too hard. That's the sacrosanct rule

if you want them to forget you.

Say you understand what I said, little man.

Say you want to stay with me.

Yes, I really want to stay with you.

French Riviera

If we sell all our racehorses, Pompom darling,

we'll get how much?

My beloved, neither of us has ever had any racehorses.

I fear the sun has disorganized you brain cells,

unless it's due to your doubly respectable age.

- Kiss me, Pompilius darling! - My sweet...

You were dying to, eh?

Slept well, Pompilius?

Your poodle has talent.

He's already... high society.

You'll have to abstain, Lambert.

Yes, but I thrive on idleness, Milady.

Does this mean you have a project, marvel of my life?

What I like, debris of love,

is that you always know how to read between my words.

The Maharaja Boulipuram invites you

to the 20th birthday of his daughter Scheherazade

on June 16th at 3:00 p.m.

Semi-formal attire... Are we going?

No question of missing it.

We'll have to get you a suit.

Me? But I'm not invited.

When I'm asked, I take whatever I want. Is that clear?

Bring! I take a thing, one brings a person.

You old clown.

Lambert is my thing.

Pompilius darling, take the boy's measurements,

call London and tell the tailor

to at once make

a 2-piece navy-blue suit with no padding.

My lovely, is your project for the party

at the king of flying carpets?

Of course, you old ruin!

Enlighten me.

Baby imbecile, if you read the papers, you'd know,

the Maharaja Boulipuram is giving his daughter Scheherazade

a diadem of diamonds and 3 emeralds worth $5.000.000!

Angel, don't you have enough diamonds?

Enough?

Enough is an adjective for retirees, Lord Asshole!

During the party on June 16th

we'll lay our hands on this marvel.

You're planning a raid, my gentle one.

You and I usually use more finesse.

A raid? You've flipped your lid.

With cops in the crappers, thugs behind each flower-pot

and mutts to bite your buns if you run in the garden,

you call that a raid?

Cops, crappers, mutts...

and buns... That's quite a lot indeed.

I have to shake him up once in a while.

The maharaja's daughter is a lumpy sausage who

uses olive oil on her hair.

The idea of that divine diadem on her greasy skull

is absolutely unbearable.

You'll come with us, dear Lambert, and swipe the treasure.

- How? - It's up to you.

Pompilius will give you a plan of the palace

and the party schedule.

It can be done. You lifted my ring

without me noticing it, golden boy.

Please! Spare us this.

Lord, You must be riding high with all this harmony.

This marvelous landscape.

That naked little devil, my old fogey

and soon that broad's diadem.

It's too much, Lord.

A blue sea that's so green.

A blue sky that's so white.

It's as beautiful as an orgasm.

Love of my life, what will happen if Lambert fouls up?

Shut up, pus-filled raven, dime-store diplomat!

Lovely!

Naked as a babe. Not a wrinkle.

How horrible.

The kid'll succeed!

You starched grubworm.

I think I keep you on only because of your outfits, fancy verbs

and the way you drink tea.

Boulipuram: A Family's Future

How much is this magazine, Miss?

Madam.

It's free.

That publication is not sold.

Are you Italian?

No, Dutch.

That's surprising.

You forget we occupied Indonesia for 3 centuries.

And are you from here?

Carmel, he doesn't need you for washing car.

Come help me dress and don't leave flowers lying about.

Charlie, we'll leave in 5 minutes.

It took a bit longer.

You found it?

Was she pretty?

When you stop for a quick one, my dear Lambert,

2 basic rules must be observed.

Never wear white trousers and

close your fly after putting your bird back in its nest.

Was it worth it?

For what I did, yes.

You really need a fix. A female can tell.

But don't get involved with whores

with hot pants who end up getting a hold on you.

In our profession, a quick romp, yes; an affair, no!

Don't worry, Milady, I satisfied my glands and I'm not nostalgic.

Your speech is improving, I'm delighted.

I feel good with you, Milady.

We have so much to say to each other, dear boy.

We're going to have fun.

I'll sew a secret pocket into your suit

to hide my stolen present.

I know the conceits of this world and conquering them amuses me.

Better to cry in a Rolls than in the subway.

Never forget that, my darling.

I'd love for us to be more familiar but it'd kill the old geezer.

Go ahead and we'll see.

Now arriving from Paris, Air France Flight 411, Gate G.

You don't mind? I can get a cab.

A promise is a promise.

I'll get my suitcase.

Give me that.

That too. Get in!

- I never rode in such a carriage. - Get in.

We've chatted since Paris but I don't know your name.

- No�mie. - Charming.

I'm Pompilius. I'm Rumanian.

Not many Rolls there.

So I came here.

Are you a tennis champion?

A script-girl in TV.

I love tennis. I'd love to be seeded.

Seeded?

Candy?

What kind?

Thai Special.

Trying to drug me?

You have admirable knees.

They're usually a woman's weak spot.

I've known gorgeous creatures, movie stars

with knobby knees.

Yours positively fascinate me.

My kingdom for this knee!

She's not even wearing her damn diadem.

What do we do?

Find us a quiet spot where Pompilius and I can flirt.

Then you'll go about your business.

My exquisite dearest,

I'm saddened by a grim foreboding.

Something tells me your chicken

will try to pull this heist and get nabbed.

Something tells me you're an old fart becoming more and more stupid.

Well, the old fart would rather not spend his last years in prison,

my gorgeous one!

Why would you go to prison, my rancid human wreck?

It's me who ordered the manufacture

of the phony diadem, my tender but tired trollop!

But who'll know?

The cops'll know!

They'll question him!

He'll go to jail and confess all! Even add to it, if necessary!

Lord,

this doctored-up old debris is right.

Lambert, my golden-haired cherub, my totally tanned love,

my pretty-prick-for-the-others, Lambert's too sensitive.

The little man is pure Bohemian crystal.

2 slaps on his kisser and he'll tell all, the son of a bitch.

I sent Pompilius to tell you to cancel everything.

I'm too fond of you. I don't want to lose you.

It's too late.

What?

It's in the pocket!

Shall we go?

No, that would be foolish!

You've really taken the wind out of my sails.

I could've looked forever.

The little lad scared silly is cowering in Grandma's petticoats.

Close your clammy trap, you rotting old ramrod!

You're at a maharaja's, my dear!

Well, it's in the bag.

The kid not only has balls, he's gifted.

My poor boy...

Now you've taken the plunge.

Maharaja Boulipuram is going to give his daughter her present.

We can't miss this.

So there you are, my poor girl,

with you damn rocks known the world over.

You can't wear them nor sell them.

Having them is a joy in itself, you decrepit drone!

And how do you plant to keep this marvel?

Never mind, toothless comb!

No hiding place is truly safe.

That's the problem.

I still have some secrets.

Put your decalcified bones to bed, dear Pompilius.

You look like a melting wax-dummy.

I'm in the way?

Almost.

No�mie.

How to say it?

If you could loan me your youth

like that young Apollo loans his

to my old witch.

I promised.

My little man.

Tonight I'm going to tell you a secret

that even old jerk-off Pompilius doesn't know.

I've decided you'll be my heir.

Move those clothes.

2017.

Your lucky number?

2017? It's the number of lovers I've had.

2-0-1-7

Open it.

Soon it'll all be yours.

It's enormous.

Probably...I never counted it.

All gifts. Not thefts.

My lovers were among the greats of the world.

Not paupers.

You'll be very rich, lovely louse of my heart.

Why haven't you invested it?

The Frenchman waving his savings account book.

Grab that.

This?

- What is it? - Preserved youth, my boy.

I was 17.

Here I'm 23.

And 42.

You seem far away.

No further than these pictures, Milady.

Here...

Which age do you prefer?

Now.

Liar.

I swear.

Your face is as beautiful as all 3.

I adore you.

I adore you.

My late-comer...

My last love.

I have an idea...

that's insane.

So crazy that I don't dare to tell you.

Go ahead.

I'd like you to sleep with me.

I said sleep not screw.

Understand? You who understand everything?

What a bitch!

Egotist!

You take everything but never give a thing, eh?

A con job's one thing

but sharing your bed... I need to think it over.

What a nice surprise.

Delighted to see you again, Miss.

I had the pleasure of traveling with this lady

on the flight back from Paris.

Enjoying your holiday?

It's a dream. Excuse me. My tennis lesson.

Thanks for the ride in the Rolls.

How I love his flesh, Lord.

I didn't sleep a wink last night.

I lay curled up on the edge of the bed

so as not to scare him.

What a temptation to find his young cock and

make it hard in my hand, Lord, not meaning to offend You.

Are you going to shower here or at home?

Here.

Than way, I'll come home clean.

Pompilius.

I must compliment you, you're making progress.

You used to strut in front of little hairdressers

or drugstore whores.

Now you've moved into a higher category.

I can meet anyone I please without it indicating

any sort of depravity.

I really don't give a damn and I haven't for ages.

I know I don't interest you

since you're gone back to the nursery, Grandma.

Shut up!

Can't you stop your childishness for 5 minutes?

See you later, my sweet!

No, wait.

These are the ladies' showers.

We were interrupted.

I was surprised you knew Pompilius.

What an odd name!

What an old character. He pulled his Rolls routine on you?

His Rolls routine?

He thinks his car's a private alcove

where he invites young girls he meets.

Isn't he a bit old?

I'd never think you gave in but did he try?

He was a bit fast.

But there's always a means of dissuasion.

I'll buy you a drink and you can drive me home.

Do you have a permission?

I'll grab my things.

- I see. - What?

Auntie!

Shit is gonna hit the fan.

Is Milady in her room?

You shouldn't call her that.

The word suits you like mittens on a belly dancer.

What should I call her? Granny?

One moment.

Do you like Miss No�mie?

- She's charming. - Charming!

An adjective that on your lips sounds obscene.

Is that all?

No. My dear Lambert, I like you a lot.

I hide it but I do like you.

You should go away with No�mie.

Far away.

My dear Lambert, you're not Pompilius

and Lady M. is no longer the one who's aged with me.

Never try to make zircons pass as diamonds

nor be satisfied with crumbs.

I don't know what zircons are.

And yet your whole life is made of them.

You see, my dear young man,

one can't cheat all the time.

For example, put a scrub-rag on the shoulders of a princess

and she'll always look like a princess.

Put a mink on a fishwife

and she'll always look like a fishwife.

There. You really can talk like other people.

If you try.

I did it in your honor.

When I'm with you, I can't help seeing an ordinary figure

with some striped beach-mats on his shoulder

and a hangar next door.

- It's funny. - Very.

Don't you think Napoleon would've looked like a schmuck

with this on his head, emperor or not?

Where were you?

In the garden.

And earlier?

At the tennis court.

For a shower?

I'll come home clean!

I went out.

With Pompilius' young heifer?

Who interests you, of course.

So what?

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Forgive me, I was in a bad mood.

I'll show you a bad mood, cock-brain!

Princes crawled at my feet and

I've kicked their faces in with my spike-heels, asshole!

A bull breeder in love with me blew his brains out!

Just who do you think you are, you masturbating boy-scout?

I slapped one of London's biggest gangster!

When he walked in a room

the toughest tough guys shit their pants!

I peed in the couscous of an emir

who had served himself ahead of me, schmuck!

You nutless little gnat!

You dare to let yourself be in a bad mood!

You're all pansies! Asses!

Don't touch me!

Help me up!

Shit-head! With a butt like a sick rat!

Sponge-faces for cleaning crappers. Encephalitic jerk-off! Moron! Bitch!

We must get a doctor!

There's no decent doctor in this hick town.

A compress... Shove it up your ass, schmuck!

Go away! You've upset her enough!

Stay!

Go to the dining room, Mr Pompilius! It's time for chow.

Beware of your striped beach-mats!

They show! Even with a tuxedo!

A quick romp, yes; an affair, no!

That tennis whore is a trouble-maker.

Believe me! I know a bitch when I see one.

But if you really want to screw her, bring her here to your room.

- Here? - Why not?

Promise?

Now go join the old crab in the dining room.

You need to eat, you devil.

A Rumanian proverb:

if the head is empty, the belly needs filling.

Eat, my boy. Don't let it get you down.

If you knew the number of canes

she's broken on young backs like yours,

you wouldn't feel so concerned.

But you shouldn't stay here.

You'll ruin your life.

You don't have what it takes to share in this fairy tale.

If that old hag starts yelling at me and

if you stop talking to me

my life here

will cease to be pure magic.

Lord, what's got into You, dammit!

It's lousy of You to let this happen.

Don't I suffer enough from my arthritic hip?

What've I done to You? Last night was my prayer too slapdash?

And that idiot who absolutely has to wet his wick.

And with whom, Lord?

That floosey gives me goose flesh!

She might nab him from me.

No, not that! Oh God, please make sure she's a lousy lay!

Amen.

Charlie, I'm hungry.

I'll eat in my room... Chicken?

No, I don't like white meat. A thigh!

Thanks.

This is really beautiful.

Yes, but we're never here in the winter.

So we have to redo the ceilings every time.

Charlie.

Excuse me a moment.

I'll take her to my room and screw her.

It'll be like a poem dedicated to you.

Give this to Milady.

I'll show you my room.

- So you sleep here. - Yes.

That's pretty. 14th century?

Maybe but I don't give a damn.

Take off your panties.

You skirt's sexy. Keep it on.

- Perverted? - Sensual. Are you shocked?

- Not at all. - Panties off!

2nd and final order.

I'll take her to my room and screw her.

It'll be like a poem dedicated to you.

My poor Lambert.

Right now you're wallowing in poetry.

I hate the both of you.

I hate the idea of your odors blending together

while I stink with age and oncoming death.

Mama, I'm not hungry any more.

Please! May I!?

Dear Pompilius,

wait until you see this!

It's worth its weight in peanuts!

So now you spy on your guests?

Not really! I admire them.

- Isnt't he nice? - Too much so!

Spite is gnawing at you.

Spite?

My poor dear, as you can imagine, after my Paris trip I dined

on her marvelous youth.

Dined? Almighty God, with what silverware?

Forgive me, but your Casanova is a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am.

There, for example!

Might I ask what he's doing with his hands

while his tongue is busy?

He's holding the whore's hands!

My poor dear,

you shouldn't give your cherub pussies to munch on!

Give him a cake, Madam! A cake.

What're you doing, reprobate?

I'm sorry to leave your pulpy face

in the claws of that hopeless humper.

Unfortunately, I have no other choice.

I've never spoken of money because....

you've always fulfilled my happiness.

But I'm going to have to exist a bit longer

without you, but a bit longer.

I'm certain you will be generous.

I wish you a still longer life

and a beautiful death for ending it!

Farewell, my poor beauty!

Papa Emil!

Who is it?

Lambert.

Shit, I'm talking nonsense!

Lord, protect me!

Come in.

Did you eat?

Not much. It's no fun dining alone in this big house.

Tomorrow I'll be back to my normal self.

Good.

Any news of Pompilius?

None.

He can drop dead! It's what I pray for.

You're cruel, Milady.

One must be in order to reign.

I've decided we'll leave soon.

- To go where? - Paris.

A deal?

The deal of the century! My last!

The coronation of all my schemes of a lifetime!

We're going to nab the dough from an ice delivery.

Why don't you pull out, Milady? You're rich now.

You're shitting your pants, darling.

I'm trying to be lucid for us both.

I'm not Clyde and you're far from being Bonnie.

You dream of back-flips but can't even get on a bar-stool.

You smell like a faded hide, Lady McThing.

You stink from the inside out. That's worse!

Put him on.

How are you, Your Excellency!

Of course.

Of course.

I'll be glad to see him.

Indeed, Your Excellency.

And thank you for the reception.

Yes, it was... grandiose.

See you, Your Excellency.

It was that schmuck Boulipuram. He's after the diadem.

He knows!

Pompom's slipping.

The gaga old fool must have bargained down

the price of the copy of the diadem.

His age is showing.

You had fun with No�mie the other day?

Peeping through keyholes?

Invite your partner to lunch.

Lambert, you asked your bimbo to lunch?

Yes? Then go to get her!

Do as I say!

My divine one!

My rarest! My fabulous one and only!

Close the door, dammit!

My turtledove with ashen feathers!

I can't abandon you! Abandon you...

far from what has caused me only remorse, love of my soul!

Respect our past and spare me your tears and declarations!

But you're killing me, Madam!

Get out of my bathroom, you dry-balled diplomat!

An old lady in her bath is doubly naked.

Far from abandoning or leaving you, Madam.

I shall stay and share your water!

I'll have run the entire gamut with you, Pompom!

My love song, do you recall our walk?

Our evening on Lake Como?

The month following our encounter?

I've heard that a detective

hired by Boulipuram is hanging around?

We've done nothing to be ashamed of.

Tell me, did you buy the phony diadem at a hardware store?

I trust you've carefully hidden the object of the theft

because your prot�g� is far from being an Ars�ne Lupin.

Of course, it's Lambert's fault!

You'll be pleased, Pompom.

My chicken is bringing your eternal youth to lunch.

My flower!

My sweet!

My white foam.

I love you!

I'm completely drunk.

Alcohol gives your youth a new sparkle

whereas it deadens old age in a confounding fashion.

- How beautiful. - It's crap!

Where'd you find that little frock?

A thrift shop.

I thought so. It's ravishing.

For her who is in video, I have a cassette to show you.

A documentary you'll find very interesting.

Charlie!

Coffee in the living room, please.

Allow me...

Thank you, Pompom.

Lambert,

put that in the player.

What did you put in the champagne?

Thai Special?

Candy?

Is this truly decent, beloved?

Lambert!

Never mind Pompilius. Go sit by No�mie.

Beloved!

He's becoming a Puritan,

this white-clad death mask!

Do you think No�mie is a goody-goody

right out of Sacred Lamb Convent?

Let's show them we don't give a damn!

That's fine, children.

Pretend we're not here.

Lord, how I'd like to be in her place

and feel that big lout's hands all over me!

Lord, I must be dreaming!

What's got into him? He has his ramrod out!

He'll bang her like a commando!

Lambert!

Moderately! You're not a rabbit and No�mie's not a bunny.

A woman should me readied, my dear, and then savored.

Pompilius, show Lambert how.

She's not an icecream cone. She's a Stradivarius!

Well played, it will produce melodious sounds.

Allow me...

You'll see, the old fossil knows what he's talking about.

Bravo, Pompilius!

The King!

Scram, you bitch!

Feel proud?

You're as good at making love as I am on a trampoline!

You should do as Lambert said. Scram!

You and your old guy make me puke!

If you leave this madwoman, call me.

Here... I think I love you.

Here...

She's not your aunt, eh?

The devil has no family.

Evelyn Stern... from Rome.

I'd like to see Lady Mackenshett.

I'll call her.

Have him wait on the terrace while Charlie does the living room.

Mr Evelyn Stern from Rome.

Maharaja Boulipuram told me to expect you.

Sorry to made you wait

but my arthritis is quite painful.

I'd like to see you in private, if I may.

I hide nothing from my nephew

who is like a son to me.

And yet I must renew my request, Madam.

How mysterious!

In fact this concerns the young man

this concerns the young man whom you claim is your nephew.

What about him?

His Excellency no doubt told you I'm a private detective.

His Excellency surely mentioned

the tactless act of which he was a victim concerning the diadem.

This fork

after causing an electrical short-circuit

was left in a flower-pot, very carelessly, I must say.

How exciting!

Your trade reminds me of a childhood game...

Hide-the-Button... I believe.

It bears the fingerprints of some servants

and those of your pseudo-nephew.

Why do you pretend Lambert is not my nephew?

Because you barely know him.

You met in Guadeloupe

where he worked as a beachboy for a hotel.

Would you like some coffee, tea or hot chocolate?

No, thank you.

Where did you find my nephew's fingerprints?

I took them from a bottle of water at the tennis court.

I understand everything.

You've been deluded by the charm of a young man with an angelic face.

I fear, it's not that, Mr Stern.

Meaning?

How I'd have preferred

that it would have been

dear Lambert!

A companion for over 20 years!

A man of such culture!

Such elegance.

Who?

Pompilius Senaresco, of course!

For years he's been only a friend for me.

But what a friend! Attentive! Generous!

But for a time now, a kleptomaniac.

Recently...

at a friend's home he pocketed a gold snuff-box.

The diadem! My God!

- What a disgrace! - Madam, I'm...

Yes! During the reception

he took Lambert's plate and fork

saying he'd return them to the buffet table.

They'll arrest him?

I don't think the Maharaja is fond of scandal.

If the diadem were returned, he'd forget everything.

Search his room. He's in the garden.

But...

I've no right to do that!

You have my permission! This is my house!

Shame weighs upon me, Mr Stern.

Lord, did You appreciate the lady's expertise?

When this asshole digs up the diadem

he'll take it to the Maharaja and pocket the reward.

My Lambert's honor will be saved

and old prick-head'll never know he was the scapegoat.

Is that Dago jerking off?

No, Du Schmuck! There's nothing under the mattress!

Lord, do You remember where I stashed the rocks?

You weren't paying attention? I forgive You!

I'll think of the hiding place real hard.

We'll see if the telepathy works.

Lord, this guy's circuits're jammed!

At last, Lord! Sherlock Holmes is getting hot!

The logs, cock cream!

The logs!

What's this?

My dear Pompilius, your kleptomania is becoming more and more alarming.

For some time I've noticed you weren't quite right, old boy,

but this tops it all!

Take it. It's real.

This sort of prank could cost you dearly, Sir!

Given your condition,

His Highness will not take you to court. It's a miracle!

Theft has become part of my life

ever since women no longer turn around as I pass by.

Go put that on the head of whomever you wish,

your boss or your daughter

and keep the phony one for your wife.

Perhaps Mr Senaresco should see a doctor?

My respects.

Bravo, Pompom! Magnificent!

What you've done, Madam,

is unforgivable!

But I'll explain!

You'll understand!

Dinner is served, Madam.

Thank you.

Lambert, go call our dear kleptomaniac.

Pompilius! Pompilius!

Shit.

Pompilius, dinner is served!

Shit!

The best of educations end up going sour.

What's wrong?

He's jealous of you, as usual.

Pour.

Thank you.

What a clown!

Take him down!

Carmel! Get the suitcases!

Lambert and I are leaving!

Milady had the dead man's room emptied

and sold the Rumaninan's things to a local 2nd-hand dealer.

No memory of Pompilius was left in the house.

On the flight to Paris, Milady cried.

Lambert was vaguely jealous

because he felt alien to her tears.

I hope you didn't leave our keys down south.

- What keys? - To the apartment.

What apartment?

Marco, don't act the fool! I don't like it.

What's wrong with you? Who's Marco?

I'm not Marco, I'm Lambert!

We're in a Paris hotel and there's no apartment!

Lambert love, pass me the phone.

Thank you.

Sylvio... it's me.

I've arrived. Things are underway.

Repeat it!

The code!

Yes, fine. I'm in love!

His age? 25! And he loves me!

- You love me? - Yes.

Confirmation. Ciao, Sylvio!

So what's up?

In 2 days a shady man'll be here to pick up some rather dirty money.

It's our duty to pocket that big pack of money.

Lambert love...

you're the handsomest man I've never known.

No, Milady.

I'm the last.

You should get some rest.

I'll get some Parisian air.

I knew you'd come back.

We came back.

Still got your old lady?

She brought me.

She's really got you hooked.

Hooked? There's no fisherman, No�mie, and above all, no fish.

It really makes me feel sad.

I was a beachboy in a plastic world

and I discovered love.

- Love? - True love.

What if I stripped naked right now?

No, I won't risk it.

I already hear her calling you.

Did you have a nice walk?

Is Pompilius with you?

Milady love, listen to me.

I'm listening.

Pompilius is dead, remember?

Naturally! Of course!

So why did you ask if he was with me?

You're crazy!

I swear, you just asked me that.

I was thinking about him.

I'm sure of it!

I guess...

We need to sleep to be in shape, right?

Good idea!

If you sleep with me like before...

Of course!

What are you doing, Milady?

Don't you see? I'm arranging flowers.

I'm going to sell them.

I used to be a florist.

My father was an Italian immigrant.

We had a shop in Nice.

My mother abandoned us,

so I began working for him very early.

I thought you were an orphan.

Who told you that?

Pompilius... I guess.

It doesn't surprise me -

he makes no sense these days.

Maybe you could tell me your name?

I'm Genevieve.

However you want it.

Anonymity has its charm too...

That's Paris! I'm Lambert!

You're going gaga, old gal!

Don't cry! Try to see! I'm Lambert!

You found me in Guadeloupe.

I helped you walk in the sea for your arthritis!

Now we're in Paris to pull off a big job! Remember?

And Marco?

Marco?

You can't go gaga like some grandma!

Not you, Milady!

Come on, you're going to have a bath! Move!

Pompom? Where's Pompom?

What if your Sylvio made this up

and the moustachoed man doesn't exist?

Don't start it again!

You'll bore me to death.

There's 20% risk in what you're proposing.

Damn pansy!

It's them.

- Where? - Over there. I'm sure of it.

Moustache! This is our man!

Forgive me, Lord,

-...for I have lied. - Milady!

Actually, my father was a notary in Rome.

I was the only daughter among 5 children.

2 of my brothers died in the war, and 2 died by the law.

Wait!

I think I've peed.

Go get Pompilius, he knows.

Don't move, Milady, and don't call him.

I can take care of you myself.

What time is it?

- Half past noon. - Still?

We only spent 15 minutes at the restaurant.

Don't forget about our business at 3 o'clock.

Take it.

What's that?

A stimulant.

It's good for your neurons.

I'll nap for just an hour

then you'll wake me, my love.

Afterwards, we'll grab the rocks

and get out of there.

OK

I'm scared to death, Milady,

but I'll do it alone.

Because I love you... and only you.

I want no one to hurt you.

Why're you here?

I brought the champagne.

I didn't order it. Get out!

You're room 2502?

Just who are you?

2... 4... 6...

8... 10... 12...

14... 16.... 18!

20!

It's OK this time but no more solos!

- I promise! - I like to have fun too!

You know,

I said I'd tell you the whole truth

and I dreamt about it earlier.

- I was 14... - Say no more, Milady.

I don't want to know the truth.

You're a fairy tale... Mine!

There's no room for truth in a fairy tale.

Allright!

I'll handle the bags, you dress and we'll go home.

I'd like a porter for Lady Mackenshett's suite, please.

Since we're telling all, Lord, let me confess to You.

Lambert is the only man

I've wanted in Your bitch of a planet.

I love him, Lord.

Oh, Lord, to be his once. Just once!

Men! Lord, I don't know what made You create such a breed!

I've done my best to bust the balls of all of them

except for my Lambert whom I love.

I'd like to lop off all their ducks

and build a Himalayan wall of cocks!

Promise me You're not a man, Lord,

so that when the day comes

I can sit on Your right hand without puckering my buns.

Pompilius?

Yes, I must put some roses on Pompilius' grave.

I wonder what my little Lambert's cock tastes like.

Lambert, how's the sea today?

Chillier than yesterday.

These daily walks do me a lot of good.

I'm pleased, Milady.

My hip barely aches any more.

I wonder if, by immersing myself up to my neck,

it would make my breasts firm again?

Possibly.

- Shall we go home? - No!

We're going to Calais.

Calais?

By the hovercraft we'll met a man named Blaise

wearing a yellow jacket. He'll give us a plan.

We'll leave for London early that evening.

To do what?

I have an impregnable plan for heisting the Crown Jewels.

That hot ice was an appetizer! Did you think I'd quit

after a job you stole from me?

Little schmuck!

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