Despair

1

Russia!

...which we have lost forever.

Winter.

Oh, Lydia...

The peasants celebrating

in a flat sledge opens up the road...

Our horses snort and,

snuffling through the snow,

swish through forests of birch and fir

with a trinkle of harness

and a crack of whip!

The wolves are invisible

behind their howls.

Oh, what a relief it was

to hear the Kremlin bells...

and to know that soon we

would be safe and warm...

around the samovar.

How these burning winters

bring it all back.

You are a tease!

And you!

You are a teaser...

What's that accident all about?

- What accident?

- In America!

Why should it matter to you?

It doesn't say anything

about an accident...

...it says just to go crash. Collapse!

The whole street collapsed?

...Wall Street...

Were people killed?

Just a few.

Mostly jumping out of windows.

Nearly all of them were stock holders.

Oh Hermann...

Really, you are such a... such a

stupid woman, Lydia.

You've lived here for 7 years already

and you still can't speak the language

properly. Still, I don't mind.

Intelligence would take

the bloom off your carnality.

No, a woman like you should

keep moist and plump...

Lydia?

Lydia!

Who the hell wears red socks!?

Oh! They're Ardalion's...

He's always taking his socks off.

You know what it's like.

Your cousin stinks.

He should be in a zoo.

Blood is thicker than water, Hermann.

Hermann...

Handsome, isn't it?

Oh, Hermann!

You're so...

masterful!

How dare you come

into this room partly clothed.

Off with it!

Have you no sense of indecency?

Don't close the door!

- Why not?

- I want it open.

- But Elsie might...

- Elsie's gone to bed. Leave it open!

I'd like to know what's

going on in your head...

Which one?

I don't understand?

Lydia? Lydia... please!

Come along my feather-brained

cockatoo or you'll make me late!

- Quick!

- Yes!

Always late, late...

- Oh, Elsie!

- Yes Madam?

I'm just riding my husband to the office.

Make up the bed!!

I live in a house of parrots.

Will you please hurry!

Coming darling!

Oh, Elsie...

And don't forget what I told

you about the Christmas tree.

- Good morning, sir.

- Morning.

- Good morning.

- Good morning, Frau Schmitt.

Please...

Ah, yes...

Too bitter...

or not bitter enough.

That is the problem!

At whom are we aiming?

Some girls only like it bitter.

Fastidious little prigs.

Then there are others,

the rich ones, smooth...

who like it milky and chocolaty.

Like my mother.

You know, my mother was like that.

She was a fat bourgeois

with too many rings

popping chocolates

into her fat, jowly face!

On wet afternoons she would go through

an entire box of peppermint creams

and the family photograph album.

Thank you.

I don't know why I tell you all this.

Please excuse me.

No, the problem is not

here in the chocolate,

the problem is in New York.

Germany has borrowed 7 billion dollars.

Mostly from American investors.

And now... the chocolate spree... is over.

There would be plenty of money around...

if it wasn't for this government

giving it all away to greedy foreigners.

But reparations must be paid, Mller.

Who says?

Well... the treaty of Versailles!

I didn't start the war,

Why should I pay for it?

Anyway, the war has been over 12 years.

My God! As long ago as that?

Now the politicians are betraying us.

If it wasn't for the reparations, Ge--

Germany could rebuild,

and become strong again and...

...regain her place...

as the greatest country in Europe!

Mller, Mller! You begin to sound

like that man in the newspapers.

- Alfred...

- Alfred Hugenberg sir!

- Alfred Hugenberg.

- Some of the newspapers say that, too!

Alfred Hugenberg owns

those newspapers, yeah?

I don't care! 120 billion gold marks!

It will cripple us all!

You should have been at

the plebiscite meeting last night.

I am a foreigner here!

If enough of us vote against the payments.

That would be the end of it.

What could the French do?

I suppose they could occupy the Ruhr...

like the last time you didn't

keep up the payments.

They are still there.

French and British troops!

On German soil!

Excuse me.

In my opinion, this is

just a little too bitter.

Slightly.

Thank you.

Hermann!

Lydia!

How about dinner out?

Perfect! Good!

Ardy's here, Hermann.

Just borrowing the bath!

I hope that's all right!

By all means...

Why don't you bring your laundry?

...while you're about it?

Won't keep you a minute!

Your gogel-mogel, Hermann?

That gogel-mogel is my gogel-mogel!

Only one gogel-mogel

is your gogel-mogel, Ardy.

The other gogel-mogel

is Hermann's gogel-mogel.

Since it is not a chocky-wocky...

I don't care whose gogel-mogel it is.

No thank you.

I drink to the plump dumpling

breasts and buttocks of your wife!

And I drink to the plump

dumpling brains of your cousin.

I intended a complement!

- Speaking as a painter.

- And so do I!

Speaking as a connoisseur of soft centers.

Chocolate technology lags hopelessly behind

the sweet confectionery

of Lydia's grey matter.

If you opened her cranium,

like an Easter egg,

you would find inside it, a motley

assortment of creams, of fondant,

...of praline, rum truffles,

liquid liquors,

and my favorite:

Turkish Delight.

My God!

You think I patronize her?

But anyone can tell you

that she adores me!

She needs a patronizing type

like I need a patronize-able woman!

We're a perfect couple.

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