Stromboli: [shouting in Italian, then in English] What this nonsense?! Nobody in my show performs for free! Now pack! We leave in an hour! And you… Ooh, ooh, ooh. My little Pinocchio. I was scared to death you got lost or stolen. And we wouldn't want that now, would we? In an hour we go! [cut to him throwing Pinocchio and shuts him in a bird cage] There. [locks up the cage with a key] This will be your home. Where I can find you… Always.
Pinocchio: Oh, no. No, no!
Stromboli: Yes, yes. To me you are belong.
Pinocchio: Let me go! Let me out of here! Help! Father!
Stromboli: Father? No parent wants a bizzaria like you.
Pinocchio: No, no!
Stromboli: Parents want a real kid.
Pinocchio: Jiminy. Father. Help! Help! Oh, no. Help! [whimpering] Please.
Stromboli: [puts the key on a hook next to the door; speaking in Italian; in English] My little wooden gold mine. [laughs maliciously and closes the door behind him, locking it]
[Pinocchio sits on his knees, sobbing helplessly]
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