Although each of the world's countries would like to dispute this fact, we French know the truth. The best food in the world is made in France. The best food in France is made in Paris, and the best food in Paris, some say, is made by Chef Auguste Gusteau.
This is me. I think it's apparent I need to rethink my life a little bit. What's my problem? First of all, I'm a rat, which means life is hard. And second, I have a highly developed sense of taste and smell.
This much I knew. If you are what you eat, then I only wanna eat the good stuff.
Turns out that funny smell was rat poison. Suddenly dad didn't think my talent was useless. I was feeling pretty good about my gift... until Dad gave me a job. *sniff* Clean. *sniff* Clean. *sniff* Cleanariffic. *sniff* Cleanarino. *sniff* Close to godliness... which means clean. Ya' know... "cleanliness is close to..." N-Never mind. Move on.
If we're going to be thieves, why not steal the good stuff in the kitchen... where nothing is poisoned?
I know I'm supposed to hate humans, but there's something about them. They don't just survive, they discover, they create...I mean, just look at what they do with food!
You're in Paris now, baby. My town. No brother of mine eats rejectamenta in my town.
Team three will be handling fish! Team four: roasted items! Team five: grill! Team six: sauces! Get to your stations, go, go, go!
We don't wanna throw this in with the garbage! This is special...
Change is nature. The part we can influence. And it starts when we decide.
You're the one who was getting fancy with the spices! What did you throw in there? Oregano? No? What? Ro- uh, Rosemary? That's a spice, isn't it? Rosemary? You didn't throw Rosemary in there? Then what was all the flipping and all the throwing and the... I need this job. I've lost so many. I don't know how to cook and now I'm actually talking to a rat as if you... Did you nod? Have you been nodding? You understand me?!. So I'm not crazy! Wait a second, wait a second... Uh, I can't cook, can I? But you, heh, you can, right? . Look, don't be so modest. You're a rat for Pete's sake.
This is not gonna' work, Little Chef! I'm gonna lose it if we do this anymore! We gotta, we gotta figure out something else; something that doesn't involve any biting, or nipping, or running up and down my body with your little rat feet! The biting, no! Scampering, no! No scampering or scurrying!
You take a break, Little Chef! I'm not your puppet, and you're not my...puppet-controlling guy! You cool off and get your mind right, Little Chef! Ego is coming, and I need to focus!
Whoa-ho! That's strangely involuntaryyyy... ahhh!
I've never disappointed anyone before because no one's ever expected anything of me. And the only reason anyone's expecting anything of me now is because of you.
You're stealing food? How could you?! I-I thought you were my friend! I trusted you! Get out, you and all your rat buddies! And don't come back or I'll treat you the way restaurants are supposed to treat pests!
Thanks, Little Chef.
I know this sounds insane, but, well, the truth sounds insane sometimes, but that doesn't mean it's not...the truth. And the truth is...I have no talent at all. But this r-rat he's the one behind these recipes. He's the cook, the real cook. He's been hiding under my toque. He's been controlling my actions. He's the reason I can cook the food that's exciting everyone, the reason Ego is outside that door! You've been giving me credit for his gift. I know it's a hard thing to believe, but hey, you-you believed I could cook, right? Look, this works, it's crazy, but it works. We can be the greatest restaurant in Paris, and this rat, this brilliant, Little Chef, can lead us there.
Let's do this thing!
I don't handle pressure very well, and that's bad for me, but more important, the people around me.
I'll make this easy to remember: keep your station clear, or I WILL KILL YOU!
Your sleeves look like you threw up on them!
How can you tell how good bread is without testing it? Not the smell, not the look, but the sound of the crust. Listen. [bread crackles] Oh, symphony of crackle. Only great bread sound this way.
I didn't have to help you! If I looked out only for myself, I would have let you drown! But..I wanted you to succeed. I...liked you....My mistake.
Hate to be rude, but we're French.