Mannequin

Ema Hesire, I know you're in there.

The wedding has been all arranged.

Please, gods. Please get me out of this.

You turned down the jeweler.

You turned down the grain merchant.

You turned down the Pharaoh's food taster.

There's only one man left who'll have you:

You'll marry Hazzi-Ra.

So what does he do?

He's a fuel merchant.

-Mother.

-All right, so he sells camel dung.

-Forget it.

-You forget it.

Mother, I don't want to settle down.

I want to do things and invent things.

I want to try things

that nobody's ever tried before.

-I want to fly.

-Sure.

And I want to smoke

and tell your father to go to hell.

Emmy, if I thought we women...

...could any way change anything,

don't you think I'd encourage you?

No. Don't. These are the times we live in.

Mother, there's got to be a better way.

Please, gods. Please help me find it.

Sure, the Nile is overflowing.

There is a wheat shortage.

The Pharaoh has hemorrhoids.

The gods have bigger things

to worry about than you.

What would you say if I told you,

you get more beautiful every day?

What was that?

Arms and legs?

God, how thoughtless. I'm sorry.

"I've got sunshine

"On a cloudy day

"When it's cold--"

She needs a 10.

"Cold outside--"

What do you think?

Speak up. Don't be shy, now.

"I got the month of May"

Wrong sex!

Now, that's the ticket.

Nothing beats a great pair of legs.

"What can make me feel this way"

Popeye look.

"I got so much honey

"All the bees envy me

"I got the sweetest song that I can hear--"

Boss! Hi! Great.

I was just coming to see you.

You know, you could get

the dummy of the week award, Switcher.

-Yeah, she turned out pretty real.

-I wasn't talking about her.

What do you think?

It only took me six days.

I could turn out three or four a month.

You're supposed to knock off

three or four of these a day, Switcher!

-Now, get back to work!

-What about quality, boss?

Style and grace. These things take time.

That's it! You're fired!

Fired?

Okay, but can I finish her?

I'm a sculptor. I'm trying to be a sculptor

and she's my work of--

Beat it!

Now!

There you go.

Have fun.

You guys having a good time?

Having fun at the party?

That's my boy.

Here you go.

Just one second. Here you go. Bye-bye.

Want a giraffe for the birthday boy?

A monkey?

A pony? A tiger?

-How about a hint?

-I want the big one, stupid.

That's the official Flights of Fancy balloon.

How about a poodle?

Listen, biscuit-brain,

my old man is paying for this party.

One giant balloon, coming up.

There you go. Have fun.

Now, what do you want?

Daddy!

Biscuit-brain,

what the hell do you think you're doing?

Take your hands off my kid!

-My balloon!

-You're fired.

-Trimming the hedges long, Switcher?

-Actually, no.

I'm really a sculptor.

But there's not too much work

for us these days.

But no reason why hedges

can't become art.

You're fired!

Get your paycheck and get out of here!

What do you think?

What do I think?

I'm fired!

Pick up my paycheck and get out.

-Look. The road warrior.

-Hi, Roxie.

His Jag's in the shop. Hi.

It'd be nice if you'd pick me up

in something with doors.

-Come on.

-So where are we going to dinner?

I'm not that hungry.

I thought maybe we'd grab a hot dog,

go for a walk, look at the moon.

You lost your job again?

No, I didn't lose it, I know where it is.

Just somebody else has got it.

Can we get out of here?

-Good night, Mr. Wert.

-Nice work, children.

-Good night, B.J.

-See you tomorrow.

-Who's that?

-That's B.J. Wert, the regional manager.

He is Illustra.

Can we get this bucket of junk to go?

Yeah, I'm trying.

-Good night, Roxie.

-Good night.

Must be nice having your own limo.

Go from any funeral right to dinner.

This job at Illustra

is destroying your sense of humor.

You gotta quit.

I'm not the one that can't deal with reality.

Reality is very disappointing.

I really do care about you.

But I think if we sleep together tonight,

we'd only confuse things.

I think you should see a professional.

Professional? You mean a hooker?

No, a psychiatrist.

I can't afford a psychiatrist.

Then call one of those shrinks on the radio.

They're only good for little problems

that fit between commercials.

Good night.

Wait--

My God! It's you!

I wanted to take you,

but they wouldn't let me.

You're the first thing I've created

in a really long time...

...that made me feel like an artist.

No!

See you tomorrow.

Good morning! What a gentleman.

They're putting up the sign!

How fun!

It's a skosh crooked.

Isn't this exciting!

A customer lined up to get into our store.

-Tell me, do you like our new sign?

-It's very nice.

-You've really been here 100 years?

-Not personally, but the store, yes.

It was built by my grandfather,

Tough Teddy Prince.

My father ran it

until he passed away recently.

I'm sorry.

He was very old.

And he died the way he wanted to.

In women's lingerie.

Pardon me?

Heart attack,

walking through the women's department.

They don't have that sign quite right yet.

-Look out!

-Sorry, man.

Watch yourself!

I got it!

Maybe.

Young man, I'm sorry!

No, that's no problem!

-lf I can make it up to you in any way.

-Yeah! I could use a job!

-What do you do?

-Anything!

-When can you start?

-As soon as I finish this!

-Young man, what's your name?

-My name? Jonathan Switcher.

You're hired!

Thank you! My lucky day.

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