Odette: [places a bell on a tree branch] Jump and ring the bell.
Odette: Just do it.
Felicie: You don't want me to dance?
Odette: No talking. Jump and ring the bell.
Felicie: You said we were going to train.
Odette: This is it. Again.
[Felicie shrugs, then jumps and rings the bell again]
Odette: Felicie, you lack precision and finesse. You have little or no sense of rhythm. You're without balance, grace, and charm.
[as she says this, she pours water around Felicie, creating a puddle]
Felicie: [lightheartedly] Come on! You can't tell all that from one jump! Can you?
[Odette doesn't answer; Felicie hangs her head in shame]
Felicie: You can.
Odette: On the good side, you have the energy of a bullet. But you also have the lightness of a depressed elephant.
Felicie: [surprised] Hey! Mérante used exactly the same phrase!
Odette: After ten years of cleaning, you pick stuff up. Okay, now jump up, ring this bell, land, and do not splash the water.
Felicie: [looking down at her reflection in the puddle] That's impossible.
Odette: [whispers] I thought it was your dream to dance.
Felicie: [after Camille once again steals her music box] Leave it. Give it back.
Camille: [laughs mischievously] Silly me. I didn't throw it hard enough THE FIRST TIME!
[She prepares to throw it across the room, but Felicie grabs her wrist and takes her music box back]
Felicie: Don't make the same mistake.
[puts the music box back in her pocket and starts to walk away]
Camille: Why are you leaving? Scared of being humiliated?
Felicie: [stops and faces her] Looks like you need more training.
[uses her broom to stretch her body]
Felicie: You're nowhere near ready.
[drops her broom as she and Camille circle each other on tiptoes]
Camille: I'M going to show you what a real dancer looks like.
Felicie: Are you sure about that?
Camille: Quiet! Tonight, these seats will be full! Paris will be looking at ME! Adoring ME!
Felicie: [smirks] Or not.
Camille: [furiously] I already told you! You are nothing! You will always be nothing!
Felicie: [spins up to her] Only one way to find out. Right here. Right now.
[She and Camille engage in a dance-off. Nora walks in and notices]
Nora: [pleasantly surprised] Oh my god.
[rushes out of the room and shouts to the others in the building]
Felicie: [on her first day of dance class, shyly greeting the other girls] Hi. Hello.
[to herself; when none of the girls respond]
Felicie: Okay. Super.
Felicie: I'm Felicie.
Nora: [confused] Felicie?
Felicie: [realizes her mistake] Uh, no, no, no, no, no. Sorry. I'm... friendly, ever so friendly. And my name is Camille.
Nora: Okay. I'm Nora, but everyone calls me... Nora. That's... the name that goes with MY face.
Nora: Hey, you should warm up.
Felicie: [to herself, confused] Warm up?
[shrugs and tries to literally 'warm up' by rubbing her hands on her arms]
Dora: [amused] Oh my. That is crazy. I'm guessing you're new, my darling?
Felicie: [awkwardly] You can tell that because...?
[Before Dora can answer, Mérante enters the room. The girls quickly gather to one side of the room]
Felicie: Who is that?
Dora: [rolls her eyes] You are joking, right? It's Louis Mérante, ballet master, world-famous choreographer, the man who performed the most fortes ever in a single saloon.
Dora: Turns. Really difficult turns.
Nora: 187 in total. And right after, he vomited!
Mérante: Silence, mademoiselle! First position, second...
[All of the girls except Felicie go through the basic ballet positions]
Felicie: [lost] What?
Mérante: Third, fourth, and rest in fifth.
Luteau: [catches Victor and Felicie on the roof] I'm going to stop this! No one interrupts my nightly face care routine and gets away with it!
Victor: [bravely] I do!
Luteau: [outraged] WHAT?
[Victor picks up Felicie and runs down the roof, with Luteau close behind]
Luteau: Stop! I can't run that fast! I have delicate ankles!
[Victor, still carrying Felicie, jumps off the roof and manages to fly away with the help of his 'chicken wings'. Luteau, meanwhile, lands on a lower part of the roof and falls right through]
Victor: [joyously] One day, everyone will travel like this!
Felicie: [jokingly] I hope they have barf bags!
[Luteau pursues them once again, this time on a motorcycle]
Victor: [to Felicie] We're gonna make the train to Paris!
[One of his wings suddenly breaks. Victor and Felicie fall and land in a cart full of hay. Felicie's music box falls out of her pocket and bounces out of the cart. The cart slowly starts to roll away with the children in tow]
Victor: Oh! We're gonna miss the train to Paris!
Felicie: [shocked] My mother's music box!
[Victor quickly jumps out of the cart and grabs the music box. Felicie reaches out her hand for Victor, but the cart is now moving too fast for him to keep up]
[notices Luteau chasing them]
Felicie: He's behind you!
Luteau: Come here, chicken boy! It's back to the hen house for you!
Felicie: [to Victor, about the Irish bar] I LOVE it here! Let's party!
[starts to dance on the tables]
Victor: [shouting over the music] I'll bet you Rudy would never bring you here!
[He chuckles and Felicie continues to dance around the bar]
Bar patrons: Yeah! Wow! Look at her go!
Victor: [impressed] Wow!
[to a man at the bar]
Victor: That's my girlfriend!
Man at bar: [chuckles] Does SHE know that?
Regine: [to Odette, as she and Felicie are cleaning the stairs] Get up.
Odette: [meekly] Yes, ma'am.
[gets up, but keeps her head down]
Regine: [referring to Felicie] Who is this?
Odette: No one. She helps.
Regine: YOU feed her. Out of YOUR wages.
Odette: Yes, ma'am.
Regine: I want you to air and press the linen.
[Odette leaves. Regine looks down at Felicie coldly. A visibly frightened Felicie resumes cleaning the stairs]
Regine: It's not clean.
[purposely pushes the bucket of scrubbing water with her foot; the water spills down the steps, much to Felicie's shock]
Regine: Oops! Oh, look what you did.
[smiles wickedly and leaves]
Victor: [watching Felicie dance around the Irish bar] Wow!
[Love-struck, he tosses her a rose. Felicie reaches up to catch it, but loses her balance and falls onto a table. Merante, who was seated nearby, stands up and removes his hat. Felicie gasps in fear]
Mérante: [sternly] I hope that tomorrow you act with a little more dignity.
[starts to walk out]
Mérante: Anyway, tonight was...
[puts his hat back on and smiles]
Mérante: A GOOD performance.
Felicie: [flattered] Thank you, sir.
Victor: [shows Felicie into his new place of work] So, behold my office. Or as I like to call it, my 'inventorium'. I even invented that word here!
[leads her to a desk with blueprints on it]
Victor: Here, we see the plans of Chicken Wings, Version Three.
[He leans on the desk and slips, falling to the floor and sending his blueprints flying. He quickly gets back up and awkwardly continues the tour]
Victor: At the moment, my boss and I are working on several... Uh... important...
[giggles nervously and fiddles around with a nutcracker]
[loses his grip and the nutcracker hits a bookshelf, breaking it]
Victor: He... uh...
[doesn't look where he's going and accidentally steps into an empty bucket]
Victor: He calls me his ideas man.
[clears his throat]
Felicie: [amazed] You know how to use all this stuff?
Victor: Uh, not yet. But I... I have a chair.
[sits down in his chair and spins around, finally getting the bucket off his foot]
Felicie: [looking through a telescope] You've done so well, Victor!
Victor: Glad we see eye-to-eye on that.
Matty: [enters, holding a large stack of scrolls] Hey, Victor.
Victor: [to Felicie] He's the cleaner.
[lowers his voice]
Victor: He's two Eiffel's short of a tower.
Matty: [to Victor] So the pencils all need sharpening and the boss wants us to polish his shoes for tomorrow.
Victor: [awkwardly] I don't do that.
Felicie: [amused] So your big boss calls you his ideas man, huh?
Victor: [puts pencils in a sharpener] Well... Uh... HE has the ideas.
[absentmindedly puts a screw in the pencil sharpener]
Victor: And I think they're great. But it's a start.
Felicie: Hey, Victor. You were right for once. Dreams CAN come true.
Victor: Of course I was right!
[the pencil sharpener starts to go out of control because of the screw. Victor tries in vain to hold it back]
Victor: I'm always...
[the pencil sharpener breaks down, covering the corner in smoke]