Auntie Mame Page #2

Goodbye, Mrs...

Of course.

There you are, my little love.

Come here with your Auntie Mame

and sit down a minute.

We'll really get to know each other.

Well, now, read me all the words

you don't understand.

"Libido, inferiority complex,

stinko, blotto...

...free love, bathtub gin...

...monkey glands, Karl Marx."

Is he one of the Marx Brothers?

No, dear.

She last pretty good tonight.

Marie Antoinette room again?

Yes. Perhaps she'll wake up

without a head.

- Get that dog of a dress off her.

- Me tuck her in.

Is the English lady sick?

She's not English.

She's from Pittsburgh.

- She sounded English.

- She has to do something.

Now, where were we?

"Narcississistic, Lysissistrata...

...cubism, squiffed,

neurotic, heterosexual."

My, what an eager mind!

You won't need these words for months.

Your vocabulary needs work.

Didn't your father talk to you?

- I only saw him at breakfast.

- What did he say then?

He usually said, "Pipe down, kid.

The old man's hung."

That's succinct.

What did you do in Chicago for fun?

Norah took me to the movies

every Saturday afternoon.

I played Parcheesi with the doorman,

until he got fired.

Didn't they do anything cultural

for you? Well, never mind!

Your Auntie Mame will open doors

for you.

Doors you never even dreamed existed.

What times we'll have!

Now, what on earth did I do

with that will?

Now, it's here someplace.

Here we are!

Now, "Get mahjong lesson, hair done."

That can't be it. Yes, it is it!

Oh, dear. This is a legal document.

A lot of folderol about

the Knickerbocker Bank...

...and some Mr. Babcock,

your trustee...

Oh, I see! I have the responsibility

and your trustee has the authority.

Norah took me to a movie once

about a trustee.

There was a prison break.

A trustee saved the warden's daughter.

This isn't the kind of trustee

that lives in a prison. As a rule.

We'll tackle him

in our own good time.

Now, Patrick, is your Auntie Mame

anything like you expected?

No. The only picture I saw of you was

with a shawl and a rose in your teeth.

Like a Spanish lady.

It's in my suitcase.

Didn't your father tell you

anything about me before he died?

- Yes, ma'am.

- Well, what was it?

Come now, my little love.

You must always be frank

with your Auntie Mame.

Well, my father said, since you're

my only living relative...

...I might be living

with you someday, and...

Well?

But that to be left in your hands was

a fate he wouldn't wish on a dog.

That...

What's that?

That is a B. The first letter of a

7-letter word that means your father.

Come, child,

I'll show you to your room.

It's a cozy little nook. My loom is

by the window. Do you weave?

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