The Big Scare (La Grande Frousse)

It is the great fear. Watch out, inspector,

his name is Simon Triquet.

His father was a cop, his uncle a babysitter.

It was his fate! "FEAR IN THE CITY".

He is a kind man with a tender heart, but wait...

Alas! Fatalitas! SUBTITLES BUSTEL, 2021.

If criminals get in his way, they are usually cleared out.

And their accomplices! And their accomplices!

We undertakers love him.

Ah, the good cop!

Those he pursues are in deep trouble...

because those brave boys think they are heroes.

Triquet shows up, death follows him, and we follow him too.

We hope it lasts!

A drunk, picked up on the street. He's yours.

I'm not going to miss a raid for a drunk idiot.

Antoine, will you take him.

Not me, I have to watch my cassoulet. Ask Triquet.

- Do you think it's safe? - For a simple statement?

This way.

- Mr. Triquet! - One moment.

That's a good one.

A violin is like the countryside: you hear the pigs.

It's for a statement about a fight.

- Do they trust me again? - You have your strengths.

And my investigation into graffiti on police stations?

I thought that was all I was good for anymore.

Here is your client. Goodbye, Mr. Triquet.

- May I take his fingerprints? - Go ahead.

- No initiative! - Then I'm out.

All right then, carte blanche!

A police report... a new experience. What joy!

How sad...

Poor man, so drunk.

I have to draw up a report for a guy who can't defend himself.

It's not fair.

Okay, I'll just take your fingerprints.

Nasty, but fun.

The poor man is choking.

Take a deep breath.

He's sweating like crazy. He'll catch cold soon.

Hey, wise guy!

I'm not going to strip him down completely.

That's not normal.

- Sergeant, come look. - And my cassoulet then?

It'll burn. Bad for the pot.

I'll bring it.

Look at that.

That is indeed strange.

It's cold here.

My cassoulet!

And that drunk feels cold. Very interesting.

Cold? Who asked for your opinion?

Damn, the police! And cassoulet, I hate that stuff!

So: name, first name, occupation, date of birth.

My cassoulet... look what he did...

Damn...

Sorry, I haven't been able to fill out my report yet.

You used to do it better.

You caught Mickey the Benedictine: counterfeiter and murderer.

But sir, I had nothing to do with it. It was just a report...

Well done, Triquet. Bring the man to the scaffold.

Hats off!

- What? Sir is risking... - Yes, his head.

And we are not putting parsley in your nostrils.

You can't do that to him, can you?

Absolutely not!

It's terrible.

It would be even worse if you were in his place.

- And all because of me. - No sentimentality.

One brute less is no disaster.

- It's cold here, isn't it? - And he's always cold.

- Sorry, sir. - I have to tell you something:

I hate cops, and worst of all: you.

Get him out of here. Incredible!

He hasn't worked since Louis XVI. I'll take a look.

He's doing it again.

- He is... gone. - Poor executioner...

No, not the executioner. Mickey the Benedictine.

- The Benedictine has escaped. - Now we can't execute him.

- And that was it? - That's the custom.

- Unless he messes up again. - We have to warn him.

- Will you take care of that? - Yes.

Damn, I'll get him. I'll call for backup.

- I'm coming with you. - No, I don't want you.

Sorry, but he's my client. He has rights too.

I can ask my uncle to arrange everything.

Of course, you and your connections. Typical bourgeois.

I, on the other hand, am a self-made man.

I am a "no man's land".

Gentlemen, you are arresting Mickey the Benedictine.

Like any criminal with self-respect, he will

return to the scene of his crimes.

You are searching in five cities in

France where he has printed counterfeit money.

Inspector Virgus, I entrust Triquet to you,

whom I love like a brother, because he is my nephew,

and as a son, because he is my sister's son.

- Thank you, uncle. - Commissioner. - And be careful, okay.

Come in.

We've already had three towns.

Two of the five are left.

Those are Barges and Tourlieu.

The circle is closing. Mickey will be caught soon enough.

But he will not end up on the scaffold.

Wrong. I'm sure he's done something again.

I would stake my hand on it.

Why are lives always in danger around you?

We'll be there in 10 minutes.

And Mickey? How much longer?

Is it about Barges or Tourlieu?

Woodcock or trout?

I prefer Tourlieu and trout.

- Let's bet. - But I don't like hunting.

I'd rather fish!

Let's do something else, draw a card.

Lucky you. You're getting off in Barges.

Here's your gun. And I'll take the fishing rods.

Lucky one... I still have two more hours by train.

Check in every evening. Call me at the "Hôtel du Commerce".

And send me some of those woodcocks you shoot. Delicious.

A taxi, please?

There are no taxis at night.

What do you mean?

Strange...

A stranger has just arrived on the night train.

- He's a hunter. - Don't scare me.

A hunter... So what?

Just a hunter.

Maybe he's here to hunt that beast.

Shut up! If we talk about it, everything will come out.

- I'm locking everything up. - Easy now.

La Villa des Cyprès, please?

Métèque, the Bargeasque is going to eat you!

- The what? - The beast!

- Which beast? - The beast!

A beast that eats me?

What's that? The beast! The beast!

Papa, don't be afraid, I'm here.

Watch out!

- Were you scared? - Yes, I thought...

She only hurt the beast, never others.

- Ah, the famous beast. - Yes, the Bargeasque.

She is Saint Urodèle.

The lady killed the monster long ago.

If she killed it, why is everyone still afraid?

It's come back. Watch out for the beast. Good evening.

Thanks for the warning. Good evening.

The rifle... Is that for the Bargeasque?

No, for woodcock and more...

Not very Catholic, is it, Mrs Urodèle?

What's wrong?

Your lodger, Mr Triquet.

- The hunter from Paris? - Exactly.

- Are you alone? - All alone.

Seen anything suspicious? A strange creature?

You're not exactly brave.

I fought in many wars and got medals,

but this thing in our region...

We'll discuss that tomorrow. I'm tired.

- Show me my room. - Go upstairs, door on the right.

- And watch out for the beast! - My suitcase...

The beast?

I didn't come here to study nature fairy tales.

That newcomer isn't afraid of anything... not yet.

The nighttime noise is quite interesting.

Mrs Urodèle,

Mr Paul is also curious about that newcomer.

Mr Douve just keeps working, as if nothing had happened.

You see, Saint Urodèle. When one comes,

the other leaves again.

A fake note. I found Mickey.

Hello? Put me through to 14 in Tourlieu. Quickly!

Nice work... Mickey is a professional.

Hello? I want to speak to the inspector...

I want to speak to Mr Virgus. A gentleman has just arrived.

I did it. Mickey is back.

- Did you arrest him? - Not yet, but I have

clues. You're joking, right? You scared me.

Why be scared?

Mickey isn't in Barges, but in Tourlieu.

- I have clues too. - Me too.

Mickey isn't in Tourlieu, but in Barges.

- In Tourlieu! What are you betting? - You're losing. I have proof.

- What? - A fake note.

- What does that prove? - That I'm right.

Fake notes aren't printed everywhere.

What do you know about that?

- What does the note look like? - Printed on one side.

Send it to me.

Can't. It just flew out the window.

Joking, right. Your proof, gone with the wind.

- Inspector... - Mr Virgus.

And Mr Virgus bets a crate of beer

that Mickey is not in Barges but in Tourlieu.

Wait a second, I'm running after that note.

Run, man. A bad loser.

Tell me, in your country,

is there a cold drunk who is bald or wears a wig?

There are several.