Les femmes sont folles Page #4

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Sit down there.

- You've got it nice in here.

- It's not bad.

Why haven't you written?

I would've loved to follow your adventures.

- "My adventures", old chap...

- You've been fooling around in South America?

I nearly stayed there.

When I say stay,

I mean in the sense of a corpse staying.

Our tour got mixed up

with a revolution.

Actually it went off first.

They had just shot

the theatre manager.

I thought they might at least clap.

No way.

The smashed up everything without clapping.

What a public !

I like Clermont-Ferrand better.

At least,

there's no one in the audience.

Finally, I landed in Hollywood.

I drowned in 'After Me, The Deluge'.

I look a bit green :

it's in Technicolor.

Good to be back in France, eh?

All I have left

are the clothes on my back.

Not so bad !

- And my talent, of course.

- In short, you're flat broke.

Good old Gaston, still the same !

Yes I am. And I intend getting into debt

without delay.

- Why?

- No thanks.

- 'Cos I've come to put the bite on you.

- I won't let you down.

- I'll find you a job at the factory.

- Thanks old chap, you haven't changed.

You've done well for yourself.

You really did marry

the vacuum-cleaners !

Do you really have any competition

in the sweeping business ?

But you seem a bit strange.

Happiness hasn't caught up with you?

- "Happiness"?

- Doesn't all this make you happy?

- I love Marguerite.

- Aha!...and your wife's jealous.

"Jealous" of who?

De Marguerite.

- It's Marguerite who's my wife.

- Then everything's for the best.

No. Marguerite loves someone else.

- So she's deceiving you.

- No !...well, sort of.

- How's that work...one day out of two ?

- Please don't make fun of it !

- She loves Robert Patrick.

- Don't know him.

- Nor do I, nor does she.

- He's a myth?

I knew a woman who

was in love with a myth...a cute little car.

He's not a myth,

he's a big-name novelist.

She wrote to his publisher

to get his photo.

- No?

- Yes.

It just struck me.

Maybe you can save me.

- Me?

- Yes, do you have a photo of yourself?

Did you ever hear of an entertainer without a photo?

I've got a truck-load.

- That's all I've got.

- Show me.

I'll lay some out.

Like I did with the savages.

In the mountains.

How would you like me?

Russian peasant, as Hamlet,

Perlican, Cyrano,

the unnatural father?

"Unnatural father"...not bad.

Silly stuff.

I'm going to give you the chance

to play the role of your life.

Finally !

- Can I count on you ?

- Listen, old boy.

After what you've offered me,

I couldn't refuse...

Hang on a sec...

You're going to play Robert Patrick.

In the artistic scheme of things,

that's not very appealing.

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