Chalet Girl Page #2

- Go, now.

- I love you, Kimberley.

-I love you, William.

Bye, Dad.

- See you later. Auf Wiedersehen.

- (door shuts)

(yodelling)

Oh, my God, I'm never doing that again!

I can't remember the whole night.

Honestly.

Oh, my God, did you see that guy

staring at my tits the whole night?

It was so awkward.

He was such a perv. And he had a hairy

chest and everything. Can you imagine?

(laughs) Yeah.

Can I call you back, babes?

- Seriously?

- Yep.

OK, let's go. Put your bags

in the back and get in.

Sh*t.

(Kim) Oh, my God, they're huge.

Yeah, they're mountains.

Huge is part of the concept.

You don't even ski, do you?

What are you doing here?

- it's a job. I need to earn money.

- Earn? What, as in, like, "save"?

(toots horn)

- Oh.

- Thought I recognised that arse.

- Alright, ugly. You coming out?

- Yeah. Just dumping the new girl off.

- The new girl! Let me see.

- Kim, Jules. Jules, Kim.

- Hi.

- Hi.

- I'll see you later, babes.

- See you later, babes.

(Kim) it's a bit poky, isn't it?

So is this guy

head of some evil criminal empire?

- He's a banker.

- That's a yes, then.

- You don't get it, do you?

- Get what?

This is the best job in the Alps.

They use the place to entertain clients

plus a few family weekends.

Apart from that,

they're hardly ever here.

I had 30 girls texting me after Milly

broke her leg, begging me for the job.

But the agency said it had to be

someone they'd seen.

You know what's really funny is,

I wasn't going to take it at first.

OK, maybe not really funny but...

Do what I tell you and if

you're not up to it, I will tell them.

Listen, a week ago I was

mopping up puke in a burger bar.

No, you listen, little Miss Essex

no-coat, non-skiing freak show.

I'm not actually from...

The Madsens fly in at five.

They expect perfection from the start.

Now, if you screw up or, more

importantly, if you make me look bad,

then clearing up puke will be a fond

memory of the good old days. Got it?

Oh!

Got it.

So I'll just make myself at home, then.

J' Farmer in my own farm

I In, out and far

I From the high ceilings

(yodelling on TW

- Look out!

- Hey!

(man shouts / children laugh)

(tutS)

it's a total nightmare.

It's not like you've got to spend

the next four months

sharing a room with her.

- Oh, no, wait, you have.

- I'm serious, babes.

It's like she's never seen snow before.

it's like she's from Africa.

A chalet girl who can't ski.

That's classic.

- Tell me about it. Later, babes.

- Later, babes.

The three golden rules

of chalet-girling.

One, no friends up in the chalet.

Two, party all you like, as long as

breakfast is on the table at eight.

- You oversleep, you pack your bags.

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