The Gazebo Page #2

And on Friday,

we'll have the party.

Your 550th play with

your comrades in costumes.

Antoine, you're a genius.

Thank you, darling.

I'll get ready.

Antoine?

Where are you?

-I'm coming.

I'm coming down.

What were you doing in the garden?

-It's for my new piece.

Are you coming to the theatre?

-I can't.

Do you mind?

-No, I'll let you work.

I have to go, or I'll be late.

-Say, Sylvie.

Yes,

-Tell me, if someone...

...ends our love or

if we have to separate...

We won't, my angel.

Promise me we'll die together,

my dearest Sylvie.

But of course. You're so serious.

Is it because of the new piece?

Maybe, the detective genre isn't...

-You can do it. You'll see.

And when I come home tonight,

I'm sure there'll be a corpse.

The digging has been done,

the maid left... the doors...

Four:
get a gun ready.

Four:
a gun... alright.

Five:
turn off the lights.

Six:
I can't see anything.

We should have put this at seven.

What are you doing in the dark?

-What do you mean?

Don't you feel well?

-I feel very well.

I'm very late.

I forgot my make-up.

Sylvie, did I give you a kiss?

You did. Do you want

to give me another one?

I do, actually.

Aren't you forgetting anything?

You won't be back?

-I don't think so.

Bye, cupcake.

-Bye, sweetie pie.

I can't...

I can't do it.

I'd rather pay.

I can't do it. There.

Oh no! Oh no!

Oh no, it's not for real.

It's not for real, come on.

You're still working.

-Didn't you go to the cinema?

I was just leaving.

A prop gun.

Good evening, Mr Colas.

Have fun.

Mr Brisebard?

Something terrible happened.

Oh my God!

Mr Brisebard?

You were here?

What are you doing here?

I was working.

-In that costume?

Didn't you hear me?

-No.

It's very bad. Mrs Grunder

fell into the hole.

What's she doing in my hole?

I need my hole.

Why did she fall in?

What?

I don't understand.

Give her a cognac.

It'll do her well.

Mr Brisebard?

Yes?

-Can I give a tour?

No, we don't give tours.

It's over. Just go.

Go, quickly!

I look like a fool.

-Don't force me to comment.

Good.

Bye, madam.

-Bye, Mr Brisebard.

A bit of cognac.

You forgot Mrs Grunder.

You forgot Mrs Grunder.

She's there.

Look, look.

My cognac...

Come, let's go sleep.

Ah, it's you.

Am I interrupting?

-Lights out.

Listen, I can't see anything.

-We have to.

Where are you?

-Here, under the lamp.

No, under the lamp.

-Ah!

What's with the costume?

-I had a look at the foundation.

We've been thinking the same thing.

I found something wrong with it.

What did you see?

-They made a hole in own my hole.

A hole?

-A hole!

But where?

-In my own hole.

I say.

-And not a small hole.

A big hole.

Big enough for a corpse.

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