Larousse:
Hey, boss, look who it is! Alfredo Linguini! Renata's little boy! All grown up, eh? You remember Renata. Gusteau's old flame?
Skinner:
Ah, yes. How are you, uh...
Larousse:
Linguini.
Skinner:
Yes, Linguini, so nice of you to visit. How is, uh...?
Linguini:
My mother?
Skinner:
Yes...
Larousse:
Renata.
Skinner:
Yes, Renata. How is she?
Linguini:
Good... well, not... good... She's been better. She's, uh... she...
Horst:
She died.
Skinner:
[attempting to care]
Oh, uh, I'm sorry.
Linguini:
Well, don't be. She believed in Heaven, so she's covered... you know, afterlife-wise? Uh...
[clumsily gives Skinner a letter]
Skinner:
What is this?
Linguini:
She left it for you. I think she hoped it would help... me. You know, get a job... Here?
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:41
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