Mousehunt

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- Hold your end up higher.

- I am.

- You are not.

- Don't worry about me.

Mm.

- Hey, isn't that suit charcoal?

- No.

Looks charcoal grey to me.

Some gray polyester blend.

Couldn't you find a black suit

for your father's funeral?

- It's black.

- It's grey.

- It's black. Black.

- Grey. Grey!

Fine, it's black.

It's the greyest black

I've ever seen.

- The colour doesn't matter!

- Oww!

I'm sorry, Pop. I'm sorry!

- Quick! Get him out of there!

- He's halfway to the harbour by now.

Ah, well.

(Man) "I leave you

not just a model factory...

"but something infinitely

more valuable.

"The future of string...itself."

(Explosion, shouting)

"And thus it is my dying wish...

"that my two sons

run Smuntz String together."

Great. Stick a "For Sale" sign up,

see what we can get.

Ernie, we're not supposed to sell it.

We're supposed to run it.

Either way, this godforsaken museum

piece is not worth a dime, is it?

Some things are more important

than money, Ernie.

The financially challenged

always say that.

Uh, please, please.

"I also bequeath to you

my personal effects,

"including my ceramic egg,

"half box of Cuban cigars..."

Oh! Yes, yes, yes, yes.

- "M-my collection of spoons."

- (Clattering)

(Ernie) My goodness,

what a treasure. What a legacy.

Spoons! Spoons!

So many spoons, so little time.

Oh! And, of course, something

no household should be without.

The ceramic egg! Ooh-hoo-hoo.

Can I have the egg?

Can l? Huh? Huh?

- No. I want you to have it.

- Fine, I'll take it!

If you find any real estate

on that desk, let me know.

It seems there is also a house.

- (Together) A house?

- Yes, 5120 Nortondale.

Your father acquired it

many years ago as payment of a debt.

H-he never lived there,

but i-i-it's interesting.

It seems the previous owner was found

locked in a trunk in the attic.

Wait a minute. Is it worth anything?

Well, he was able to borrow

$50,000 against it.

Really? So, what is its value today?

$50,000.

Great. A worthless house

and a broken-down string factory.

Oh, well. At least the day

wasn't a total loss.

Thanks for the stogies, Pop.

Wait. You can't go. W-we

have to go through all these papers.

You'll have to excuse me.

- I've got a date with the mayor.

- (Thunder rolls)

(Reporters chattering)

Mr Mayor! Mr Mayor, over here!

Mr Mayor!

Will your recent triple heart bypass

affect your campaign strategy?

Now, Leslie, I'm just here to eat.

(French accent) Ah, monsieur

le maire, Madame maire,

welcome to Chez Ernie.

What an honour it is

to have you in my humble bistro.

Suivez-moi. You brought the little

ones. The little bicycle thieves.

Bonjour! Our very best table.

- Have you lost weight?

- Oh, l...

- I think so! I think you may be!

- (Laughs)

Je suisse enchante

pour votre beaute.

- You know?

- Oh, monsieur Ernie...

Excusez-moi. Au revoir, les enfants!

(Sighs)

The air's not so thin at the top.

Just like the old man to die

before I hit it big.

Remember, everyone.

Attention to detail is vital!

Presentation is everything.

No, no, no, no, no!

These I must deliver myself.

(Roars)

Duck a I'Orange

avec du quack sauce...

And for ze Mayor,

la specialite de la maison,

Lobster Loaf a la Ernest

ou la bibliotheque.

- Oh...

- Bon appetit.

(Exhales)

- Ah, bonjour!

- How does it feel...

to serve the mayor

after his re-election?

- Well... May I call you Leslie?

- Of course.

Crunchy! Hmm. I love the almonds.

Leslie, cuisine,

she is a fickle mistress...

Ee-yew! Look! (Squishing)

- A cockroach!

- (Shocked whispering)

That's only half a cockroach.

Daddy! You ate the head!

Honey, are you OK?

(Screaming)

(Mayor's wife) Not again!

Was this an accident or murder...?

Clear!

- I can do that better!

- (Crying)

(Man) Smuntz String

is a relic of history.

You don't make string by twining

two strands together any more.

No. You make it simple,

singular, strong, with nylon.

Bu-but that's not string.

Tha-that's cord.

- Exactly.

- Twine is yesterday. Cord is today.

Zeppco was interested in your factory

but your father refused to sell.

We are hopin' you're smarter.

Zeppco is willin'

to buy you out...

and bring this museum

into the 21st century.

We'd keep you on as a consultant,

with a huge salary and hefty pension.

So...

what do you say?

(Sighs)

- My sons...

- (Whispers) Ernie.

- Ernie!

- Yeah. Just a sec.

I want you...to have...something.

My most prized possession.

(Sighs) Oh, it's

a piece of st-string.

Not just any string. THE string.

I found it my first day in America.

- What's with the string?

- I've had it 60 years.

Here! I want you two to share it.

Maybe it'll bring you

closer together.

- You haven't talked much lately.

- Yeah.

- Ah! What are you doing?

- I'm breaking it in half.

- No! I want you to share it.

- No?

- Forever.

- Sure, Pop, sure.

You carry it the first 50 years,

I'll take it the next.

- Sure.

- And turn up the morphine drip.

(Father) I heard that.

Promise me...

that you will never sell...

Smuntz String...

to one of those big conglomerates.

Keep it between you.

Brothers. Family.

- Promise.

- I promise, Pop.

- (Lars) I promise.

- So, you were sayin'?

I'll have to pass.

What?

"A world without string is chaos."

For once the Smuntz name

was worth something!

- No, no! Don't!

- Oh!

You... You used to love string!

That was when I was dating

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