Cogsworth: Right then, you all know why we're here. We have exactly twelve hours, thirty-six minutes and fifteen seconds to create the most magical, spontaneous, romantic atmosphere known to man or Beast. Hehehe... or Beast. [the servants are confused as crickets chirp in the background; a desk brings up the rose; and Cogsworth wacks the glass jar with his baton] Right. Need I remind you, that if the last petal falls from this rose, THE SPELL... WILL...NEVER...BE... BROKEN. Very well, you all know your assignments. Half of you to the West Wing, half of you to the East Wing, the rest of you, come with me.
[The servants and objects run off, leaving Cogsworth in the dust. Sultan then runs off, causing Cogsworth to tumble down the stairs]
Lumiere: Oh, lighten up, Cogsworth, and let nature take its course.
Mrs. Potts: It's obvious there's a spark between them.
Cogsworth: Yes, yes, but there's no harm in fanning the flames, a little. Besides, they must fall in love tonight if we ever expect to be human again.
Lumiere: Ah, human again.
Mrs. Potts: Human again.
Lumiere: Yes, think of what that means...
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