Mannequin

Ema Hesire, I know you're in there.

The wedding has been all arranged.

Oh, please, gods. Please get me out of this.

You turned down the jeweller, the grain merchant.

You turned down the Pharaoh's food taster.

There's only one man left who'll have you. You are going to marry Hazzi-ra.

So what does he do?

He's a fuel merchant.

- Mother. - All right, so he sells camel dung.

- Forget it. - You forget it!

Mother, I don't want to settle down. I want to do things, invent things.

I want to try things that nobody's ever tried before. I want to fly.

And I want to smoke and tell your father to go to hell.

Oh, Emmy, Emmy!

If I thought we women could in any way change anything,

don't you think I'd encourage you?

No, no, no, no. These are the times we live in.

Mother, there's got to be a better way.

Please, gods. Please help me find it.

The Nile is overflowing. There is a wheat shortage.

The Pharaoh has haemorrhoids.

The gods have bigger things to worry about than you.

Whoa!

Emmy! Oh!

Emmy? Emmy?

Oh, Emmy.

Oh.

What would you say if I told you you get more beautiful every day?

Huh? What was that?

Arms and legs? Oh, God, how thoughtless. I'm sorry.

What do you think? Speak up. Don't be shy.

Now, that's the ticket! Nothing beats a great pair of legs, huh?

Boss! Oh, great. I was just comin' to see you.

You know, you could get the Dummy of the Week award, Switcher.

- She turned out pretty real, didn't she? - I wasn't talking about her.

Oh. Well, what do you think? It only took me six days.

I could turn out three, four of these a month.

You're supposed to knock off three or four a day, Switcher! Get back to work!

What about quality, boss?

That's it. You're fired!

Fired?

OK, but can I finish her? You see, I'm a sculptor, trying to be a sculptor, and she...

Beat it! Now!

Here you go. Have fun.

You guys having a good time? Having fun at the party?

That's my boy!

Here you go.

Just one second. Here you go. Bye-bye.

Hey! Want a giraffe for the birthday boy? Huh?

Monkey? A pony? A tiger?

- How about a hint? - I want the big one, stupid.

Sorry. That's the official Flights of Fancy balloon. A poodle?

Listen, biscuit brain. My old man's paying for this party.

One giant balloon coming up.

There you go. Have fun. Now... what do you want?

Daddy!

Daddy!

Hey, biscuit brain! What the hell are you doing?

Take your hands off my kid!

My balloon! You're fired.

Whoa!

- Trimmin' hedges long, Switcher? - Oh, actually, no.

I'm really a sculptor. But, uh, there's not too much work for us these days.

No reason why hedges can't become art, though, huh?

You're fired! Get your paycheck and get outta here!

- What do you think? - What do I think?

I'm fired! Pick up my paycheck. Get out. No severance. Never come back.

- Oh, look. The Road Warrior. - Hi, Roxie.

His Jag's in the shop.

Hi.

- Be nice if you had something with doors. - Oh, come on.

- Where are we going to dinner? - I'm not that hungry.

I thought we'd grab a hot dog, go for a walk, look at the moon?

- You lost your job again. - I didn't lose it, I know where it is.

- It's just somebody else has got it. - Oh, jeez. Can we go?

- Good night, Mr Wert. - Nice work, children.

- Who's that? - BJ Wert, the regional manager.

He is Illustra. Now can this bucket of junk go?

Yeah, I'm trying.

- Oh, good night, Roxie. - Good night!

Must be nice havin' your own limo. You can go from any funeral right to dinner.

- (engine starts) - Ah!

This job at Illustra's destroying your sense of humour. Get a grip!

I'm not the one that can't deal with reality.

Reality is very disappointing.

Jonathan, I care about you, but if we sleep together tonight it will confuse things.

- I think you should see a professional. - You mean a hooker?

- No, a psychiatrist. - I can't afford a psychiatrist, Roxie.

Well, then, call one of those shrinks on the radio.

They're only good for little problems that fit between commercials.

Good night, Jonathan.

Roxie, what... Roxie!

Rox!

Oh, my God. It's you!

I wanted to take you home, but they didn't let me.

You are the first thing I've created in a long time that made me feel like an artist.

Oh, no.

Whoo!

See you tomorrow!

Good morning. What a gentleman.

They're putting up the sign!

How fun! Yoo-hoo!

It's a scoshe crooked!

Isn't this exciting? A customer lined up to get into our store.

- Tell me, do you like our new sign? - It's very nice.

- You really been here a hundred years? - Not personally, but the store, yes.

It was built by my grandfather, Tough Teddy Prince.

My father ran it until he passed away recently.

- Oh, I'm sorry. - Well, he was very old.

And he died the way he wanted to, in women's lingerie.

- Pardon me? - Heart attack in the women's department.

Excuse me. They don't have that sign quite right yet.

- Oh, look out! - Hey, sorry, man.

Watch yourself, ma'am.

I got it!

Maybe.

- Young man, I'm sorry! - No, that's... Oh! No problem.

Aah! Oh!

- If I can make it up to you in any way... - Yeah! I could use a job!

- What do you do? - Anything.

- When can you start? - Uh... As soon as I finish this.

Yoo-hoo, young man! What's your name?

- My name? Uh, Jonathan Switcher. - You're hired!

Thank you. My lucky day.

Every time I walk through these doors, I feel like I'm home.

I practically grew up here.

Greta Garbo used to get her make-up right over there.

Of course, you probably don't know who Greta Garbo is.

Sure I do. Ninotchka, Grand Hotel.

I don't sleep much at night.

Neither do I. At least, not in the two weeks since I've been in charge here.

I don't know how we're going to make this store great again!

Looks fine to me. What time do we open?

We are open.

Oh.

Well, I... I'm sure things'll pick up by lunch.

Yes. Uh... BJ, it's all going according to plan.

I mean, it's like a ghost ship around here.

They're gonna be beggin' to sell this place within a month.

No. No, Timkin is no threat.

Well... BJ. Beej. She's here.

Mr Richards, do you know what this young man just did?

- Uh... Shoplifting? - He saved my life.

Those incompetents you hired nearly got me killed.

If I were paranoid, I'd swear this was sabotage.

Claire, it's not as if I was turning away Harvard graduates.

If you know someone you feel is qualified to work here...

Yes! Jonathan Switcher! Let's show him our gratitude.

- Well, five dollars should do it. - No, no. I want you to give him a job.

Take good care of him.

Well, uh... Switcher?

What kind of work experience have you had?

Oh, I've had just about every job there is. Briefly.

I'd like to do something creative. Maybe with, say, mannequins.

Please. Uh, listen. I pride myself on being able to size up a job applicant

and see just what kind of executive potential he has.

I have just the job for you.

So you got a new job. That's terrific. What is it?

Let's just say that thousands of dollars of merchandise

go through my hands every day.

- I'm takin' you for a celebration dinner. - Those panties, up to Lingerie.

- Panties. Right. I'm into it. - Did you say "panties"?

- Panties? - I can't talk now. Pick you up at eight.

- See you then. - Bye.

I've seen him pick you up. That little... pissant!

You can't tell me that he's satisfying you sexually.

- That's none of your business. - I would like to make it my business.

I would love to sink my teeth into your... little bottom.

What? What, what?

Did Armand say something bad? Forgive me!

English and me, it's new. My tongue, it slides.

Look, our relationship is strictly business. You got that?

Yes. Of course. I have some reports to get out by noon o'clock.

Agh!

- See anything you like? - Just lookin' for panties.

You found them. However, you missed the lingerie department by four floors.

- Well, get going. - Right.

Asshole.

What was that?