Pre-Milliways
It all happened like this: here I was, taking in the scenery of Paris (and Gusteau's restaurant), when I find myself in a really unlikely series of events. I mean, I'm a rat, right? I shouldn't even have been in that restaurant.
But ... one thing led to another, and ... basically -- they liked it.
They liked my soup! Man, I've never felt so...I don't know -- like a chef! It made me forget, for that moment, that I was just a rat in a human's world...
"All right, Little Chef," Linguini says, "so this is my place. I -- uh -- know it's not much, but uh -- it's --"
Remy looks around, nose twitching.
"...not much."
Yeah, definitely not much.
But that's okay, the little rat thinks. He's got somewhere to stay, things are changing and he isn't being treated like some stinkin' ... rat.
"We've got a long day ahead of us," Linguini continues while Remy stands within his palm, still surveying the premises. "So we should probably get some sleep."
It is then that Remy sees the view from the large window, opening up to the entire city. He can see the Eiffel Tower from here -- it's absolutely breathtaking. He's in Paris! This is the place where it all happens. All the best food is made here, all the best chefs learn and teach in this city. Can a guy -- no, a rat -- get any luckier?
While Linguini settles into sleep, watching a cheesy Paris love story, Remy stares out the window, tucked into an oven mitt (quite comfortably), at the twinkling city lights, and the illuminated structure of the Eiffel Tower.
Paris. Gusteau's restaurant ... This is almost unbelievable.
When he awakes, there's breakfast to be made. For treating him so well, Remy decides that it's only courteous to make the guy something good. He isn't sure what the fridge has, but like Linguini says,
"What's mine is yours..."
Or something like that. He scurries his way across the ledge, and hops towards the fridge's handle, pushing with his feet, back to the door, forcing it open. Except ... well, a fridge shouldn't be emitting that much light...and there definitely shouldn't be the sound of chatter and clinking glasses.
But ... one thing led to another, and ... basically -- they liked it.
They liked my soup! Man, I've never felt so...I don't know -- like a chef! It made me forget, for that moment, that I was just a rat in a human's world...
"All right, Little Chef," Linguini says, "so this is my place. I -- uh -- know it's not much, but uh -- it's --"
Remy looks around, nose twitching.
"...not much."
Yeah, definitely not much.
But that's okay, the little rat thinks. He's got somewhere to stay, things are changing and he isn't being treated like some stinkin' ... rat.
"We've got a long day ahead of us," Linguini continues while Remy stands within his palm, still surveying the premises. "So we should probably get some sleep."
It is then that Remy sees the view from the large window, opening up to the entire city. He can see the Eiffel Tower from here -- it's absolutely breathtaking. He's in Paris! This is the place where it all happens. All the best food is made here, all the best chefs learn and teach in this city. Can a guy -- no, a rat -- get any luckier?
While Linguini settles into sleep, watching a cheesy Paris love story, Remy stares out the window, tucked into an oven mitt (quite comfortably), at the twinkling city lights, and the illuminated structure of the Eiffel Tower.
Paris. Gusteau's restaurant ... This is almost unbelievable.
When he awakes, there's breakfast to be made. For treating him so well, Remy decides that it's only courteous to make the guy something good. He isn't sure what the fridge has, but like Linguini says,
"What's mine is yours..."
Or something like that. He scurries his way across the ledge, and hops towards the fridge's handle, pushing with his feet, back to the door, forcing it open. Except ... well, a fridge shouldn't be emitting that much light...and there definitely shouldn't be the sound of chatter and clinking glasses.