Mousehunt Page #4

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is worth twice as much.

- He's a LaRue connoisseur.

- Guilty as charged.

Gentlemen, I'm going

to make you an offer.

No, no, no, I couldn't be so crass

as to allow you to do that.

But you are welcome

to come to the auction.

- Auction?

- Auction, yes.

It would be unfair of us to deprive

others of the chance to bid.

Um...

May I have one moment

with my brother, please?

- Sure. Of course.

- Thank you.

- What is this?

- It's the...

- What is this? No.

- It's the first I've heard...

- What are you doing?

- Answering your prayers.

These pigeons are ripe for plucking.

Put them in a room

to outbid each other?

- We'll make $700,000, $800,000 easy.

- Man, you're smart!

Oof!

- You'll get it...

- Don't talk to me!

So, when is the, uh,

earliest we can set the auction?

I suppose all arrangements

could be completed within the week.

- A week it is.

- Great!

- You're smarter than you look.

- (Together) Thank you.

But know this.

I have never paid more than $10

million for a house in my life!

OK, see you, then.

Yeah. Thanks for stopping by.

Ten million linen napkins.

Five million bales

of top-grade cotton fibre.

Forty thousand hot lamps complete

with rotating plate-warming trays.

Two thousand twine threaders,

gleaming under real lights.

(Ernie) My own chain of restaurants.

(Lars, echoing) April can have

anything she's ever wanted!

(Faintly) Cars, coats, china.

She loves china.

(Fan blades whooshing)

(Ernie) I'm gonna build

a swimming pool...

full of pina coladas

and a college girls.

(Lars) lf only Pop

could've seen this house!

He did. He just wasn't

smart enough to sell it.

We've turned a corner.

Our future is staring us in the face.

All we have to do is grab it,

baste it, and scarf it down!

Aha! We've finally found

our friend's home!

Well, I bought

a present for ya, buddy.

Ernie, i-it's just a little mouse.

Do we really have to kill it?

Yes. Listen to me.

A single vermin can bring you down.

Believe me, I know. (Snap) Ah...

(Snoring)

- (Snap)

- (Gasps)

(Sighs)

- I trust you slept well.

- Oh! Like a baby.

Hey, last night,

did you hear the, uh...

Oh, yeah. Let's see.

- Well, where'd he go?

- Maybe it snapped by itself.

I don't believe it.

He snapped the trap, ate the olive,

and left the pit just to mock us.

You're giving him

a little too much credit.

Mice don't mock.

They don't have a sense of humour.

He's not sitting in his hole

in a smoking jacket,

sipping cognac,

giggling "I left the pit."

The trap snapped itself,

the olive flew off, and he ate it.

But now he knows we're here,

he won't come near us.

We won't be seeing that... Mouse!

(Both shrieking)

Aha! Ow!

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