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Ann Landers
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Ratatouille (2007) is an animated Disney/Pixar film about a rat (Rémy) who longs to follow in the footsteps of his hero, the late Chef Auguste Gusteau — at one time considered to be the greatest chef in Paris. After discovering an unusual way through which he can control the actions of the helpless Linguini, who was working as a garbage boy in the kitchen of Gusteau's restaurant at the time, he is given the ultimate opportunity to show the world what he can do.

Written and Directed by Brad Bird.
He's dying to become a chef. taglines

Opening lines

  • TV Reporter: Although each of the world's countries would like to dispute this fact, we French know the truth. The best food in the world is made in France. The best food in France is made in Paris, and the best food in Paris, some say, is made by Chef Auguste Gusteau.


  • [he bursts frantically through a window carrying a book over his head. Frame freezes] This is me. I think it's apparent I need to rethink my life a little bit. What's my problem? First of all, I'm a rat, which means life is hard. And second, I have a highly developed sense of taste and smell.
  • This much I knew. If you are what you eat, then I only wanna eat the good stuff.
  • Turns out that funny smell was rat poison. Suddenly dad didn't think my talent was useless. I was feeling pretty good about my gift, until Dad gave me a job. [Later, bored] [sniffs] Clean. [sniffs] Clean. [sniffs] Cleanariffic. [sniffs] Cleanarino. [sniffs] Close to godliness-- [rat holding food looks up at him, confused] --which means clean. Ya' know, "cleanliness is close to--" N-Never mind. Move on.
  • If we're going to be thieves, why not steal the good stuff in the kitchen, where nothing is poisoned?
  • I know I'm supposed to hate humans, but there's something about them. They don't just survive, they discover, they create...I mean, just look at what they do with food!
  • You're in Paris now, baby. My town. No brother of mine eats rejectamenta in my town.
  • [Yelling out orders to the other rats] Team three will be handling fish! Team four: roasted items! Team five: grill! Team six: sauces! Get to your stations, go, go, go!
  • We don't wanna throw this in with the garbage! This is special.
  • Change is nature. The part we can influence. And it starts when we decide.


  • [holding Rémy in a jar] You're the one who was getting fancy with the spices! What did you throw in there? Oregano? [terrified Rémy shakes his head] No? What? Ro--uh, rosemary? [he shakes his head again] That's a spice, isn't it? Rosemary? [Rémy nods.] You didn't throw rosemary in there? Then what was all the flipping and all the throwing and the-- [Linguini sulks] I need this job. I've lost so many. I don't know how to cook and now I'm actually talking to a rat as if you-- [he gasps] Did you nod? [Rémy nods] Have you been nodding? You understand me![Rémy, brow raised, nods again]. So I'm not crazy! Wait a second, wait a second-- Uh, I can't cook, can I? [Rémy thinks for a moment, then shakes his head] But you, heh, you can, right? [Rémy shrugs modestly but acknowledgedly]. Look, don't be so modest. You're a rat for Pete's sake. Whatever you did there, they liked it.
  • [after failing first attempt to cook with Rémy] This is not gonna work, little chef! I'm gonna lose it if we do this anymore! We gotta, we gotta figure out something else; something that doesn't involve any biting, or nipping, or running up and down my body with your little rat feet! The biting, no! Scampering, no! No scampering or scurrying!
  • You take a break, little chef! I'm not your puppet, and you're not my puppet-controlling guy! You cool off and get your mind right, little chef! Ego is coming, and I need to focus!
  • Appetite is coming, and he's going to have a big ego!
  • [Rémy, testing out his new control system, tugs Linguini's hair hard] Whoa-ho! That's strangely involuntary--ahhh!
  • I've never disappointed anyone before because no one's ever expected anything of me. And the only reason anyone's expecting anything of me now is because of you.
  • You're stealing food?! How could you? I-I thought you were my friend! I trusted you! [kicks out Rémy and the other rats] Get out, you and all your rat buddies! And don't come back or I'll treat you the way restaurants are supposed to treat pests!
  • Thanks, little chef.
  • [Rémy has been discovered again in kitchen] 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 r-rat [picks up Rémy], he's the one behind these recipes. He's the cook, the real cook. [puts Rémy on his head] He's been hiding under my toque. He's been controlling my actions. [Rémy pulls Linguini's hair causing his arms go up] 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-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.
  • Let's do this thing!
  • I don't handle pressure very well, and that's not good for me, and for the people around me, too.
  • The only predictability in life is its unpredictability.


  • Your sleeves look like you threw up on them!
  • How can you tell how good bread is without tasting it? Not the smell, not the look, but the sound of the crust. Listen. [bread crackles] Oh, symphony of crackle. Only great bread sound this way.
  • I didn't have to help you! If I looked out only for myself, I would have let you drown! But..I wanted you to succeed. I...liked you....My mistake.
  • I hate to be rude, but we're French.
  • You think cooking is a cute job, eh? Like mommy in the kitchen? Well, mommy never had to face the dinner rush when orders come flooding in, and every dish is different and none are simple, and all have different cooking time, but must arrive at the customer's table hot and perfect! Every second counts, and you cannot be mommy!
  • The only way to get the best produce is to have first pick of the day, and there are only two way to get first pick. Grow it yourself, or bribe a grower. Voila! The best restaurant get first pick.
  • [Linguini is making a mess at the kitchen] What is this? Keep... your... station clear! If meal orders come in, what will happen? Messy stations slow things down, food doesn't go, orders pile up, disaster! I will make this easy to remember: keep your station clear, or I will kill you!


  • The soup? Where is the soup?! [pushes Linguini] Move it, garbage boy! [He notices that Linguini is holding a ladle] You are cooking?! How dare you cook in my kitchen?! Where do you get the gall to even attempt something so monumentally idiotic? I should have you drawn and quartered! I'll-I'll do it! I think the law is on my side! Larousse, draw and quarter this man - after you put him in the duck press to squeeze the fat out of his head!
  • [speaking to Linguini] You are either very lucky, or very unlucky. You will make this soup again, and this time, I will be paying attention, very close attention. They think you might be a cook, but you know what I think, Linguini? I think that you are a sneaky, over-reaching little- [sees Rémy in kitchen] Rat!!
  • [Linguini walks in door of kitchen] Welcome to hell.
  • You're fired! F-I-R-E-D! Fired!!
  • Tell them Chef Linguini has prepared something special for them, something definitely "off-menu", mmm?. Oh, and don't forget to stress its...Linguini-ness.
  • And you, Mr. Linguini, are no idiot. Let us toast your non-idiocy.
  • One can become TOO familiar with vegetables, you know!
  • [After Linguini catches Remy in a jar, and asks what he should do now] Kill it!
  • What are you blathering about?!
  • What?! They are asking for food from Linguini?!


  • [in the trailer] You know, if you can sorta' muscle your way past the gagging reflex, all kinds of food possibilities open up.
  • [to Rémy] Whoa, you can smell all that? You have a gift!
  • I don't like all this reading and TV watching, while we...read, and cook! It's like you're involving me in crime, and I let you! Why do I let you?
  • [on Remy walking on two paws] Well, go ahead, but if Dad sees you walking like that, he's not gonna like it.
  • [upon learning Remy can read] Aw, man! Does Dad know?


  • If you focus on what you have left behind, you will never be able to see what lies ahead!
  • Remy, food will come. Food always comes to those who love to cook.
  • What I say is true; anyone can cook, but only the fearless can be great.
  • [as Texan, on ad] Ideals? If Chef Fancy-Pants had any "ideals", you think I'd be hawkin' barbeque over here!
  • [as Col. Sanders, on ad] Or Tooth, I said "Tooth-Pickin' Chicken?" 'Bout as French as a corndog!
  • [corndog ad] Roming roon!
  • A cook makes, a thief takes.


  • Food is fuel. Get picky about what you put in the tank, your engine is gonna die. Now shut up and eat your garbage.
  • We're not birds. We're rats. We don't leave our nests, we make them bigger.
  • EVACUATE! Everyone, to the boats!
  • [When the big, muscular rat tries to free Remy from the car he's trapped in by dumping a statue on it from two stories above, but misses] No, my OTHER left!
  • I was wrong about your friend...and about you.
  • I'm not talking about cooking- I'm talking about guts. This really means that much to ya?
  • We're not cooks, but we are family. You tell us what to do, and we'll get it done!

Anton Ego

  • Very well. Since you're all out of perspective and no one else seems to have it in this bloody town, I'll make you a deal- you provide the food, I'll provide the perspective.
  • [Irritated, jumping up from his seat] Tell your chef Linguini that I want whatever he dares to serve me! Tell him to hit me with his best shot! [Abruptly sits back down and resumes reading the menu]
  • [on TV-broadcast] Amusing title: "Anyone Can Cook". What's even more amusing is that Gusteau actually seems to believe it. I, on the other hand, take cooking seriously, and no, I don't think anyone can do it.
  • I don't like food, I love it... if I don't love it I don't swallow. I will return tomorrow night with high expectations...pray you don't disappoint me.
  • [after reviewing Gusteau's restaurant] 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 talents, 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.


  • [Series of scenes in which he explains why he "did time"]
    • I defrauded a major corporation.
    • I robbed the second-largest bank in France using only a ballpoint pen.
    • I created a hole in the ozone over Avignon.
    • I killed a man. With this thumb.
  • We have to tell the customers something!
  • [When Linguini is insisting his recipe just came to him] Well, make it come to you again, ja? BECAUSE WE CAN'T SERVE THIS!


Django: Now don't you feel better, Rémy, huh? You've helped a noble cause!
Rémy: "Noble"? We're thieves, Dad, and what we're stealing is, let's face it, garbage!
Django: It isn't stealing if no one wants it!
Rémy: If no one wants it, why are we stealing it?!

Émile: [referring to Rémy's bipedal gait] Why are you walking like that?
Rémy: I don't want to constantly have to wash my paws. Do you ever think about how we walk on the same paws that we handle food with? Do you ever think about what we put into our mouths?
Émile: All the time.
Rémy: Ugh. When I eat, I don't want to taste everywhere my paws have been.
Émile: Well, go ahead, but if Dad sees you walking like that, he's not gonna like it.

[Rémy and Émile have just been struck by lightning]
Rémy: Whoa you've gotta taste this! It's-it's got this kind of, burny, melty, it's not really a smoky taste, it's-it's a certain, oh, it's kindof like a "Whoosh! Kaboom! Zap!" kind of taste, don't you think? What would you call that flavor?
Émile: [hesitantly] Lightning-y?
Rémy: Yeah! It's lightning-y!

Émile: Wait a minute... you read?
Rémy: Well... not excessively.
Émile: Aw, man! Does Dad know?
Rémy: You could fill a book — a lot of books — with things Dad doesn't know. And they have, which is why I read. Which, is also our secret.
Émile: I don't like secrets. All this cooking and...and reading and TV-watching, while we…read and cook. It's like you're involving me in crime, and I let you. Why do I let you?

Gusteau: [as a book illustration] If you are hungry, go up and look around, Rémy. Why do you wait and mope?
Rémy: Well, I just lost my family…all my friends. Probably forever.
Gusteau: How do you know?
Rémy: I…uh…you are an illustration. Why am I talking to you?
Gusteau: Oh, you just lost your family, all your friends. You are lonely.
Rémy: Yeah…well, you're dead.
Gusteau: Ah, but that is no match for wishful thinking! If you focus on what you left behind, you will never be able to see what lies ahead. Now go up and look around!

Gusteau: What are you doing?!
Rémy: I'm hungry! I don't know where I am, I don't know when I'll find food again!
Gusteau: Rémy, you are better than that. You are a cook! A cook makes. A thief takes. You're not a thief.
Rémy: But I am hungry.
Gusteau: Rémy, food will come. Food always comes to those who love to cook.

Larousse: Hey boss, look who's here! Alfredo Linguini, Renata's little boy! All grown-up. You remember Renata, Gusteau's old flame?
Skinner: [disinterested] Oh, yes, how are you, uh…
Larousse: Linguini.
Skinner: Linguini. How is--?
Linguini: M-My mother?
Larousse: Renata.
Skinner: Ah yes, Renata. How is she?
Linguini: She's good. Well, not--She's been better. I-I mean, uh--
Horst: She died.
Skinner: [awkwardly] Oh. I'm...sorry.
Linguini: Oh, no, don't be. She believed in heaven, so she's covered. You know, afterlife-wise. [he gives Skinner a letter]
Skinner: [Annoyed] What's this?
Linguini: She-she dropped it off for you. I-I think she hoped it would help me. You know, get a job...here.
Skinner: [Losing interest again, walking away] Yes, well, we'll file this, and if something suitable opens up-
Larousse: We already hired him.
Skinner: [Furious] WHAT?! How dare you hire someone without my permission-
Horst: We needed a garbage boy.
Skinner: Oh- well, garbage...I'm glad it worked out.

[Remy and Gusteau are talking about Linguini]
Gusteau: What do I always say, Remy? Anyone can cook.
Rémy: Well yeah, anyone can. That doesn't mean that anyone should.
Gusteau: Well, that is not stopping him. See?
[Linguini has accidentally spilled a pot of soup and is attempting to cover up his mistake by throwing random ingredients into it]
Rémy: What?! What is he doing?! No...no! No, this is terrible; he's ruining the soup, and nobody's noticing?! It's your restaurant! Do something!
Gusteau: What can I do? I am a figment of your imagination.
Rémy: But he's ruining the soup!! We gotta tell someon-- [slips and falls]

[Linguini has trapped Rémy in a jar]
Linguini: What should I do now?
Skinner: Kill it!
Linguini: Now?
Skinner: No, not in the kitchen! Are you mad?

[Skinner has made Linguini drunk]
Skinner: Have you ever had a pet rat?
Linguini: Nope.
Skinner: Did you work in a lab with rats?
Linguini: Nope.
Skinner: Perhaps you lived in squalor at some point?!
Linguini: Nopity, nopity no.
Skinner: You know something about rats! You know you do!
Linguini: You know who know do whack-a-do...ratta-tatta! Hey, why do they call it that?
Skinner: What?
Linguini: Ratatouille! It's like a stew, right? Why do they call it that? If you're gonna name a food, you should give it a name that sounds delicious! "Ratatouille" doesn't sound delicious. It sounds like "rat" and "patootie". Rat-patootie…which does not sound delicious. [holds up his glass, gesturing for more wine]
Skinner: [angrily] Regrettably...[Drops wine bottle into trash can] we are all out of wine.

Rémy: He's your son?!
Gusteau: I have a son?!
Rémy: How could you not know?!
Gusteau: I-I am a figment of your imagination! You did not know, how could I?

Mustafa: Someone has asked what is new!
Horst: New?
Mustafa: Yes! What do I tell them?
Horst: Well, what did you tell them?
Mustafa: I told them I would ask!
Skinner: What are you blathering about?!
Horst: Customers are asking what is new! What should I tell them?
Skinner: What did you tell them?
Mustafa: I told them I would ask!

[Django shows Rémy dead rats in exterminator shop]
Django: Take a good, long look, Rémy. This what happens when a rat gets a little too comfortable around humans. The world we live in belongs to the enemy. We must live carefully. We look out for our own kind, Rémy. When all is said and done, we're all we've got. [starts to walk away]
Rémy: No.
Django: [stops] What?
Rémy: No. Dad, I don't believe it. You're telling me that the future is, can only be, more of this?
Django: This is the way things are. You can't change nature.
Rémy: Change is nature, Dad. The part that we can influence. And it starts when we decide. [he walks away]
Django: Where are you going?
Rémy: With luck, forward.

[Linguini is having a nightmare]
Linguini: Do you know what you would like this evening sir?
Ego: Yes. I'd like your heart, roasted on a spit.

[The restaurant thinks Linguini made a fantastic soup]
Skinner: [to Linguini]What are you playing at?
Linguini: I, um--am I still fired?
Colette: You can't fire him!
Skinner: What?!
Colette: LeClaire [food critic] likes it, yeah? She made a point of telling you so! If she write a review to that effect and find out you fire the cook responsible-
Skinner: Ha! He's a garbage-boy.
Colette: Who made something she liked! How can we claim to represent the name of Gusteau if we don't uphold his most cherished belief?
Skinner: And what belief is that, Mademoiselle Tatou?
Colette: Anyone can cook. [whole room falls silent; most of the kitchen staff seems moved in Colette's favor by this]

Mustafa: Do you know what you would like this evening, sir?
Ego: Yes, I think I do. After hearing a lot of over-heated puffery about your new cook, do you know what I'm craving? A little... perspective. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well-seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that?
Mustafa: With what, sir?
Ego: Perspective, fresh out, I take it?
[Mustafa is confused and stays silent]
Ego: Very well. Since you are all out of perspective and no one else seems to have it in this bloody town, I'll make you a deal: you provide the food, I'll provide the perspective, which would go nicely with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947.
Mustafa: I'm afraid…um…your dinner selection?
Ego: [bursts out of his chair and gets right in Mustafa's face] Tell your chef, Linguini, that I want whatever what he dares to serve me! Tell him to hit me with his best shot!

Skinner: No, no, no, no, no, no-o-o-o-o!!
Lawyer: The DNA matches, the timing works, everything checks out. He is Gusteau's son.
Skinner: This can't just happen! The whole thing is a set up! The boy knows! [sees Linguini innocently cooking in kitchen] Look at him out there, pretending to be an idiot! He's toying with my mind like a cat with a ball-of-something!
Lawyer: String?
Skinner: Yes! Playing dumb, taunting me with that rat!
Lawyer: Rat?
Skinner: Yes! He's consorting with it, deliberately trying to make me think it's important!
Lawyer: The rat?
Skinner: Exactly!
Lawyer: [awkwardly] Is the rat important?
Skinner: Of course not! He just wants me to think that it is! Oh, I see the theatricality of it! A rat appears on the boy's first night, I order him to kill it, and now he wants me to see it everywhere! [snapping fingers] Oooooh! "Oooh, it's here! No, it isn't, it's here!" Am I seeing things, am I crazy?! Is there a Phantom Rat, or is there not?! Oh no! I refuse to be sucked into his little game, of--
Lawyer: [disturbed] Should I be concerned about this? About...you?

Linguini: Listen, I just want you to know how honored I am to be studying under such a--
Colette: [suddenly pins Linguini's sleeve to the cutting board with a knife] No, you listen! I just want you'to know exactly who you are dealing with! How many women do you see in this kitchen?
Linguini: Well, I uh--
Colette: [Sticks a second knife to his sleeve] Only me. Why do you think that is? Because haute cuisine is an antiquated hierarchy built upon rules written by stupid, old men. Rules designed to make it impossible for women to enter this world, but still I'm here. How did this happen?
Linguini: Well because you, because you--
Colette: [Sticks a third knife to his sleeve] Because I am the toughest cook in this kitchen! I have worked too hard for too long to get here, and I am not going to jeopardize it for some garbage boy who got lucky! Got it?
Linguini: [Nervously] Uh-huh.
[Colette removes the knives pinning Linguini's arm down, causing him to fall to the ground]
Linguini: [Gets up, laughs hysterically] Wow!

Lawyer: I was worried about the hair sample you gave me. I had to sent it back to the lab.
Skinner: Why?
Lawyer: Because the first time, it came back identified as...rodent hair.

Colette: "Sweetbread a la Gusteau: Sweetbread cooked in a seaweed salt crust with cuttlefish tentacle, dog rose purée, geoduck egg, dried white fungus? Anchovy licorice sauce." I don't know this recipe, but it's Gusteau's so--Lalo! We have some veal stomach soaking, yes?
Lalo: Yeah, veal stomach!
Linguini: [disgusted] Veal stomach?

Ego: What is it, Ambrister?
Ambrister: Uh, Gusteau's--
Ego: Finally closing, is it?
Ambrister: No--
Ego: More financial trouble?
Ambrister: No, it's-it's--
Ego: Announced a new line of microwave egg rolls? What, what?! Spit it out!
Ambrister: It's-it's come back. It's popular.
Ego: [does a spit-take] I haven't reviewed Gusteau's in years.
Ambrister: No sir.
Ego: [looks through filing cabinet and pulls out a piece of paper] My last review condemned it to the tourist trade!
Ambrister:Yes sir.
Ego: [he reads his review] I said, "Gusteau has finally found his rightful place in history right alongside another equally famous Chef, Monsieur Boyardee."
Ambrister: Touché.
Ego: That is where I left it. That was my last word. THE last word.
Ambrister: Yes.
Ego: Then tell me, Ambrister. How could it be...Pop-u-lar?

Rémy: Hey I brought you something to--[sees Émile eating garbage] Ah! No, no, no, no! Spit that out right now! [he does] I have got to teach you about food. Close your eyes. [Émile obeys, Rémy hands him piece of cheese] Now take a bite of thi...[Émile snarfs it] No, no, no! Don't just hork it down!
Émile: Too late.

Colette: I know the Gusteau style code. In every dish, Chef Gusteau always had something unexpected. I will show you. I memorized all these recipes.
Linguini: [taking notes] Always do something unexpected…
Colette: No! Follow the recipe!
Linguini: But you just said to--
Colette: No. It was his job to be unexpected. It is our job to follow the recipe.

Linguini: You're Anton Ego.
Ego: You're slow for someone in the fast lane.
Linguini: And you're thin for someone who likes food!
Ego: I don't like food, I love it. If I don't love it, I don't swallow.

Colette: People think haute cuisine is snooty, so chef must also be snooty. But not so. Lalo there ran away from home at twelve. Got hired by circus people as an acrobat. And then he get fired for messing around with the ringmaster's daughter. [pauses] Horst has done time.
Linguini: What for?
Colette: No one know for sure. He changes the story every time you asked him.
Horst: [in a series of flashbacks]
I defrauded a major corporation.
I robbed the second-largest bank in France using only a ballpoint pen.
I created a hole in the ozone over Avignon.
I killed a man with this thumb.
Colette: Don't ever play cards with Pompidou. He's been banned from Las Vegas and Monte Carlo. Larousse ran guns for the Resistance.
Linguini: Which resistance?
Colette: He won't say. Apparently, they didn't win.

Colette: So you see. We are artist, pirate. More than cooks are we.
Linguini: We?
Colette: Oui. You are one of us now, oui?
Linguini: Oui. Thank you, by the way, for all the advice about cooking.
Colette: Thank you, too.
Linguini: For what?
Colette: For taking it.

Colette: This is no time to experiment! We have customers waiting!
Linguini: You're right! I should listen to you! [he pushes Rémy through his toque. Rémy slaps him in the face with his own hand immediately] Ow!

[Skinner has asked his lawyer to help him with Gusteau's will]
Lawyer: Ahem, well, the will stipulates that if after a period of two years from the date of death no heir appears, Gusteau's business interests will pass to his sous-chef, you.
Skinner: I know what the will stipulates! What I want to know is if this letter, [looks at Linguini out window] if this boy changes anything!
Lawyer: [compares Linguini's image to Gusteau's] There's not much resemblance…
Skinner: There's no resemblance, at all! He's not Gusteau's son; Gusteau had no children! And what of the timing of all this?! The deadline in the will expires in less than a month! Suddenly some boy arrives with a letter from his recently-deceased mother claiming Gusteau is his father?! Highly suspect!
Lawyer: [observes Gusteau's old toque] But the boy does not know?
Skinner: She claims she never told him, or Gusteau, and asks that I not tell!
Lawyer: Why you? What does she want?
Skinner: [disinterested] A job for the boy.
Lawyer: [takes out Gusteau's hair from toque] Only a job?
Skinner: Well…yes.
Lawyer: [folds hair in tissue] Then what are you worried about? If he works here, you'll be able to keep an eye on him while I do a little digging, find out how much of this is real. I'll need you to collect some DNA samples from the boy, hair, maybe.
Skinner: Mark my words, the whole thing is highly suspect! [nervously] He knows something…
Lawyer: Relax; he's a garbage boy. I think you can handle him. [leaves Skinner feeling uneasy]

[Django and Émile have just rescued Rémy]
Django: Where are you going?
Rémy: Back to the restaurant! They'll fail without me!
Django: Why do you care?
Rémy: Because I'm a cook!

Rémy: What are you eating?
Émile: [looks at what he's eating as if for the first time] I don't really know. I think it was some sort of wrapper once.

Rémy: Dad, I…I don't know what to say.
Django: I was wrong about your friend, about you.
Rémy: I don't want you to think I'm choosing this over family. I can't choose between two halves of myself.
Django: I'm not talkin' about cooking. I'm talkin' about guts.

Linguini: When I added that extra ingredient instead of following the recipe like you said, that wasn't me…either.
Colette: What do you mean?
Linguini: I mean, I wouldn't have done that. I would've followed the recipe, I would've followed your advice. I would've followed your advice 'til the ends of the Earth because I love your-r-r-r advice. But--
Rémy: [In Linguini's toque, to self] Don't do it…
Linguini: [hesitantly] I have a secret. It's sort of disturbing. I have a ra--I have a ra-a-a-a--
Colette: You have a rash?
Linguini: No, no, no. I have this-this tiny, uh, little, little--[rapidly] a-tiny-chef-who-tells-me-what-to-do.

Gusteau: So, we have given up.
Rémy: Why do you say that?
Gusteau: We are in a cage inside a car trunk, awaiting a future in frozen food products.
Rémy: No. I'm the one in a cage; I've given up. You…are free.
Gusteau: I am only as free as you imagine me to be, as you are.
Rémy: Oh please! I'm sick of pretending. I pretend I'm a rat for my father, I pretend to be a human through Linguini, I-I pretend you exist so I have someone to talk to! You only tell me stuff I already know! I know who I am! Why do I need you to tell me? Why do I need to pretend?
Gusteau: [chuckles] Ah, but you don't, Rémy. You never did. [Reassuringly puts his hand on Rémy's shoulder, then disappears, for the last time]

[Health inspector walks in on the rat colony, stares in shock for a moment, then runs away]
Rémy: Stop that health inspector!
Django: Delta team, go, go, go!

[Colette walks into the kitchen and sees the rats cooking, and looks like she's going to vomit]
Linguini: Colette, wait! Colette. You came back. Colette…
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.

Rémy: [Describing the time after Ego gave his review] It was a great night. The happiest night of my life. But the only thing predictable about life is its unpredictability. [A sign saying "CLOSED" is placed on the front door of Gusteau's] 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.
Rat: How do you know? [Rémy pulls back the leaves behind them to reveal the rats are in the attic of a restaurant. Ego is sitting beneath them, happily toasting his fellow customers. There is a dinging sound, and Rémy turns to see Colette in the kitchen, gesturing at him]
Rémy: Oh, gotta go. Dinner rush.

Linguini: Can I interest you in a dessert this evening?
Ego: Don't you always?
Linguini: Which one would you like?
Ego: [to Rémy, who is looking through the kitchen door window] Surprise me!

[Last lines]
Django: Yeah, that story gets better the way I tell it. [Chuckling Hey, can we get some food over here? We're starving!


  • He's dying to become a chef
  • A Comedy with Great Taste.


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