Pepé le Pew:
[after the rival cat, who's wearing a clothespin on his nose and holding his breath, slaps Pepe]
Uh-oh, I know. The jealous lover. Monsieur, I salute you. You wish to risk your life in a duel over this fair one. An affair of honor. I can see it now: Two grim figures, the cold light of dawn, a misty meadow. We select our weapons- pistols, perhaps. Back to back we stand, ramrod straight, we are very brave, monsieur. Un, deux, trois, quatre, five, sies, set, wit, neuf, ten. We turn, I fire. BANG!... I miss.
[puts a cigarette in his mouth]
Pepé le Pew:
I await your shot like a soldier of France.
[the rival cat is squirming from no air]
Pepé le Pew:
You draw careful aim, down comes the terrible weapon. BANG! Right through the heart. I am dying. My blood gushes forth...
[examines fingers and picks at a hangnail]
Pepé le Pew:
I resume dying. I fall. I expire. Au revior, mon cheri.
[the cat finally releases his breath and flies to the hall d'armour]
Pepé le Pew:
She runs to my side, she cannot believe it. She beseech me not to go, but it is too late. I am a gone goose.
[sits up]
Pepé le Pew:
... Where is everybody? Oh well, war is fine, but love is better! Right?
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:24
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