Ratatouille script (part 2)[Remy Returns]

- Don't do it.
- Remy. Remy.

Don't! Stop!
They'll see you. Stop.

We're not talking about me.
We're talking about what to do right...

Rats!

- Remy!
- Get my knife.

Don't touch him!

Thanks for coming back, Little Chef.

I know this sounds insane, but...

Well,
the truth sounds insane sometimes.

But that doesn't mean it's not

the truth.

And the truth is, I have no talent at all.

But this rat,
he's the one behind these recipes.

He's the cook. The real cook.
He's been hiding under my toque.

He's been controlling my actions.

He's the reason I can cook the food
that's exciting everyone.

The reason Ego is outside that door.

You've been giving me credit
for his gift.

I know it's a hard thing to believe.

But, hey, you believed I could cook,
right?

Look, this works.
It's crazy, but it works.

We can be
the greatest restaurant in Paris,

and this rat, this brilliant Little Chef,
can lead us there.

What do you say? You with me?

Dad.

Dad, I don't know what to say.

I was wrong about your friend
and about you.

I don't want you to think
I'm choosing this over family.

I can't choose
between two halves of myself.

I'm not talking about cooking.
I'm talking about guts.

This really means that much to you?

We're not cooks, but we are family.

You tell us what to do,
and we'll get it done.

- Stop that health inspector!
- Delta Team, go, go, go, go!

The rest of you stay and help Remy.

Team three will be handling fish.
Team four, roasted items.

Team three will be handling fish.
Team four, roasted items.

Team five, grill. Team six, sauces.
Get to your stations. Let's go, go, go!

Those handling food
will walk on two legs.

We need someone to wait tables.

I'm sorry for any delay,
but we're a little short tonight.

Please, take all of the time you need.

He came in late one more time
and all of a sudden he...

Make sure that steak
is nice and tenderized.

Work it. Yeah. Stick and move.
Stick and move.

Easy with that sole meunière.
Less salt. More butter.

Only use the mimolette cheese.

Whoa! Compose the salad
like you were painting a picture.

Not too much vinaigrette
on that salade composée.

Don't let that beurre blanc separate.
Keep whisking.

Gently poach the scallops.
Taste check. Spoons down.

Good. Too much salt. Good.

Don't boil the consommé,
it'll toughen the pheasant. Emile!

Sorry.

Colette, wait! Colette.

- You came back. Colette...
- Don't say a word.

If I think about it,
I might change my mind.

Just tell me what the rat wants to cook.

Ratatouille? It's a peasant dish.

Are you sure
you want to serve this to Ego?

What? I am making ratatouille.

Well, how would you prepare it?

Ratatouille? They must be joking.

No, it can't be.

Who cooked the ratatouille?
I demand to know!

I can't remember the last time

I asked a waiter
to give my compliments to the chef.

And now I find myself
in the extraordinary position

of having my waiter be the chef.

Thanks, but I'm just your waiter tonight.

Then who do I thank for the meal?

Excuse me a minute.

You must be the chef...

If you wish to meet the chef,
you will have to wait

until all the other customer have gone.

So be it.

At first, Ego thinks it's a joke.

But as Linguini explains,
Ego's smile disappears.

He doesn't react
beyond asking an occasional question.

And when the story is done,
Ego stands, thanks us for the meal...

Thank you for the meal.

... and leaves without another word.

The following day his review appears.

In many ways,
the work of a critic is easy.

We risk very little,
yet enjoy a position over those

who offer up their work
and their selves to our judgment.

We thrive on negative criticism,
which is fun to write and to read.

But the bitter truth we critics must face
is that in the grand scheme of things,

the average piece of junk
is probably more meaningful

than our criticism designating it so.

But there are times
when a critic truly risks something

and that is in the discovery
and defense of the new.

The world is often unkind
to new talent, new creations.

The new needs friends.

Last night,
I experienced something new,

an extraordinary meal
from a singularly unexpected source.

To say that both the meal
and its maker

have challenged my preconceptions
about fine cooking

is a gross understatement.

They have rocked me to my core.

In the past, I have made no secret
of my disdain

for Chef Gusteau's famous motto,
"Anyone can cook."

But I realize only now
do I truly understand what he meant.

Not everyone
can become a great artist,

but a great artist
can come from anywhere.

It is difficult to imagine
more humble origins

than those of the genius
now cooking at Gusteau's,

who is, in this critic's opinion,

nothing less
than the finest chef in France.

I will be returning to Gusteau's soon,
hungry for more.

I will be returning to Gusteau's soon,
hungry for more.

It was a great night.

The happiest of my life.

But the only thing predictable
about life is its unpredictability.

Well, we had to let Skinner
and the health inspector loose,

and of course they ratted us out.

The food didn't matter.

Once it got out
there were rats in the kitchen,

oh, man, the restaurant was closed

and Ego lost his job and his credibility.

But don't feel too bad for him.

He's doing very well
as a small business investor.

- He seems very happy.
- How do you know?

Got to go. Dinner rush.

You know how he likes it.

Thanks, Little Chef.

Can I interest you
in a dessert this evening?

- Don't you always?
- Which one would you like?

Surprise me.

Can I interest you
in a dessert this evening?

Hey, believe me, that story
gets better when I tell it, okay?

Come on. Bring some food over here,
we're starving!