Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby2006

[The unrated version of Girard's introduction]

Jean Girard:
Why did you stop ze jazz music? Was it unpleasant to you?

Ricky Bobby:
No one plays jazz here at The Pit Stop!

Jean Girard:
So then why is the song on the jukebox?

Bartender:
We keep it on there for profiling purposes. We also got the Pet Shop Boys and Seal. [Girard advances on Ricky]

Jean Girard:
My name is Jean Girard, and I am a racing-car driver, just like you, except I am from Formula Un. I am the greatest one in the whole world. I have been following your career with great interest, Monsieur "Booby".

Ricky Bobby:
I can't understand a word you've said the whole time.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Did you eat some peanut butter or something?

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah, you sound like a dog with peanut butter on the roof of your mouth.

Jean Girard:
I think what you are 'earing is my accent. I am, uh...French.

Ricky Bobby:
You say you're French?

Jean Girard:
Oui. [This comes out sounding like "we"]

Ricky Bobby:
"We?" No, we are not French. We're American, because you're in America, okay? Greatest country on the planet.

Jean Girard:
Well, what have you given the world apart from, uh, George Bush, Cheerios, and the Thighmaster?

Ricky Bobby:
Chinese food?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Chinese food.

Jean Girard:
That's from China.

Ricky Bobby:
Pizza.

Jean Girard:
Italy.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Chimichanga.

Jean Girard:
Mexican.

Ricky Bobby:
Really, smarty-pants? What did French land give us?

Jean Girard:
We invented democracy, existentialism... and the blowj*b.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Those are three pretty good things.

Ricky Bobby:
Hey.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Hey, that last one's pretty cool.

Jean Girard:
And ze soixante-neuf. You know, the 69? With the head near the...[jerks head to the right] that bit? We came up with it.

Herschell:
We created the missionary position. You're welcome.

Jean Girard:
"Reecky Booby", I have come 'ere to defeat you.

Ricky Bobby:
Oh, well, there's strikes two and three right there! [Ricky and Cal laugh] Well, welcome to America, amigo! [He swings at Girard, but Girard slaps him twice, and forces him onto the billiard table, holding his hand in an arm lock]

Jean Girard:
You are fast, "Reecky Booby"...but I am faster.

Ricky Bobby:
You let go of me, you Formula One jazz nutjob!

Jean Girard:
Like the frightened baby chipmunk, you are scared by anything that is different. I will let you go, Ricky. But first, I want you to say..."I... love... crepes."

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Don't you say it, Ricky. These colors don't run.

Ricky Bobby:
I'm not gonna say it.

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Good.

Ricky Bobby:
Hey, look, Frenchy, I thought about it. So why don't you go ahead and break my arm?

Jean Girard:
I do not want to break your arm, Monsieur Bobby, but I am a man of my word.

Ricky Bobby:
Here's the deal. He's not gonna break it because I'm gonna slip out of it right now. Houdini! [He makes a futile attempt to rescue his arm]

Jean Girard:
Whoa! Get down, you little pancake.

Ricky Bobby:
Someone might as well get me a beer while I'm down here.

Jean Girard:
But you have forced me to do this. You are now mocking me and making me look ridiculous. Just say, "I love crepes."

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
You know, just to put this in there...I had a whole mess of crepes this mornin'. They're just like pancakes, maybe even better.

Ricky Bobby:
Wait, are they the really thin pancakes?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Yeah.

Jean Girard:
Yes they are. They are the really thin pancakes. It's just a French word for them.

Ricky Bobby:
Oh, my god, I love those!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Put all the kinds of syrup you want on them. I'm just sayin', think about it.

Ricky Bobby:
They come with cheese sometimes?

Jean Girard:
Yes, of course, a fromage-crepe.

Ricky Bobby:
Well, why didn't someone yell that right--right away?

Jean Girard:
Do you know what's in the crepe suzette?

Ricky Bobby:
Oh, I love the crepe suzette.

Jean Girard:
With the sugar and lemon juice...

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah, the sugar and the lemon juice. Sure.

Jean Girard:
Grand Marnier.

Ricky Bobby:
I wo - I wish I could crawl into one of those right now. I'd eat my way out from the inside!

Jean Girard:
They are tasty.

Kyle:
Either way this goes down, can we go get some after we're done?

Ricky Bobby:
Absolutely, we're gonna do it.

Jean Girard:
Bon. So, what if you just said: "I love really thin pancakes"? That is a fair compromise, no?

Kyle:
That is a fair compromise.

Herschell:
Very fair, actually.

Ricky Bobby:
No! Because then everyone would know I really meant crêpes!

Kyle:
That's actually a pretty good compromise right there.

Jean Girard:
Why do you want me to break your arm so badly?

Ricky Bobby:
You don't understand. You don't understand because you don't understand liberty. You don't understand freedom. So you put a crack in my arm like the crack in the Liberty Bell! You hear me?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
[leans down to talk to Ricky in a low voice] Hey. This is just between you and me, okay? I mean, forget all these other guys. But...he did give you a pretty decent out. But it's your call.

Ricky Bobby:
[whispering] What do you think?

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
Don't say it.

Ricky Bobby:
Yeah. I'm not gonna say it. Nope. Break it, Pepé Le Pew!

Jean Girard:
As you wish.

[He breaks Ricky's arm]

Ricky Bobby:
He actually did it!

Kyle:
Back off!

Ricky Bobby:
I didn't say it!

Cal Naughton, Jr.:
No, you did not!

Jean Girard:
Your injury is one of ignorance and pride! Au revoir!