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Mrs Potts' Party

watch part of Beauty and the Beast: Belle's Magical World Disney movie about everyone compromise and the great power of cooperation Pictures and full quotes with: Belle, Mrs. Potts, Chip, Cogsworth, Lumiere, Chef Bouche, Chaud, Tres, Egg Beater, Tubaloo, Consertina, Chandeleria, Witherspoon and Beast
COGSWORTH: The weather has been dreadful. MRS. POTTS: Never in all my years can I remember a sun more reluctant to show itself. Not a single ray in weeks. BELLE: Mrs. Potts. Are you all right? MRS. POTTS: Hmm? Oh. Yes. Forgive me. Dear. I'm afraid these gray skies have got me feeling blueI'm afraid these gray skies have got me feeling blue. WEBSTER: Melancholy a pitiful. Dejected mood. MRS. POTTS: Yes. Thank you. Webster. My mother was affected by the weather. My father. Too. BELLE: Perhaps a little rest would make you feel better. MRS. POTTS: Don't let this silly little mood I'm in worry you. Dear. I'll get over it. After all. The grayer the day the more my tea soothes the soul. Care for a spot? BELLE: Sounds wonderful. MRS. POTTS: Don't tell me it's cold. BELLE: I'm afraid you forgot to add tea. It's just warm water. MRS. POTTS: Forgot to add tea? I've never been so embarrassed. BELLE: Don't be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakesEveryone makes mistakes. MRS. POTTS: I must be losing me mind. BELLE: Maybe you really should get some rest. MRS. POTTS: Oh. I'm no good to anyone in this state. BELLE: Try my room. It's nice and quiet. Who knows? You might wake up a new teapot. MRS. POTTS: Ahh, thank you, love. COGSWORTH: I'm afraid all this precipitatior has triggered some terrible leaks. He was up on the castle roof repairing them all last night. Didn't catch a wink of sleep. LUMIERE: Best to let him sleep. Then. COGSWORTH: Yes. I'm certainly not going to wake him. Why. I'd rather wake a bear in hibernation. And advise us, please, when this awful weather will stopAnd advise us, please, when this awful weather will stop. CRANE: Witherspoon. Dispatch this at once. COGSWORTH: Oh! So sorry. BELLE: She's normally the most cheerful soul in the castle. CHANDELERIA: Why. Just this morning she sat here at the table looking so gloomy. I. I didn't know what to say. COGSWORTH: I've sent in inquiry to a friend of mine who claims to be able to predict the weather. Maybe he'll know when our erratic teapot will be back to normal. BELLE: That's very considerate of you, but we shouldn't wait for the weather to cheer her up. We should do it ourselves. CRANE: Of course! WEBSTER: Couldn't have said it better myself. BELLE: I can't count the number of times she's been there when I needed her to listen to me. To cheer me up when I'm sad. She's been like a mother to meShe's been like a mother to me. CHIP: Me. Too! LUMIERE: Ha ha! Everyone knows she's the heart of this castle. COGSWORTH: I most heartedly agree with Belle. We must act. We must take this bull of depression by the horns wrestle it to the ground. And pummel it into submission! BELLE: Actually. I had something a little more fun in mind. How about a party? CHIP: A party? We're gonna throw a party for mama! LUMIERE: A small affair. Just to let her know we love her. COGSWORTH: And we must have a cake. An occasion of this sort simply shouts for one. BELLE: Chef Bouche. Could you whip up a little something? CHEF BOUCHE: "A little something?" Mademoiselle. Chef Bouche does not do "little." BELLE: No. No. Of course you don't. I. I said "little" because I thought that only a master such as yourself could create a little masterpiece. A cake that in its simplicity would be elegant and delectableA cake that in its simplicity would be elegant and delectable. CHEF BOUCHE: Chef Bouche would be delighted. COGSWORTH: Now. Unless I'm mistaken. Angel's food is her favorite. LUMIERE: Your heart is in the right place. Mon ami, but devil's food is Mrs. Potts' favorite cake. CHAUD: Lumiere's right. Mrs. Potts is a saucy soul. She likes the devil's food. TRES: Chaud. With all due respect. My love, I must side with Monsieur Cogsworth on this. The cake should be angel's food. CHAUD: Oh. That is just like you. You always think you're right. TRES: Of course I am right. I am the right hand. Am I not? CHAUD: Don't start your word games with me. Tres. I. CHEF BOUCHE: Silence! Chef Bouche will not have such discord on his staff! BELLE: We can decide all this later. After all. Working together to plan this party is half the funWorking together to plan this party is half the fun. CHAUD: Fun until Monsieur Know-It-All. TRES: Don't start. Chaud. EGG BEATER: I shall whip up the necessary ingredients under your direction. Of course. COGSWORTH: Might I also suggest music to accompany the presentation of the cake? LUMIERE: Good idea! We shall choose a melody that enhances the mood. BELLE: Well. Then. I'll leave it to you two to select the music. LUMIERE: Oh. And we mustn't forget flowers, always the way to a woman's heart. COGSWORTH: I certainly hope none of this activity will wake the master. BELLE: Right now a Mardi Gras wouldn't wake him. He'll sleep all day. And I don't blame him. LUMIERE: After all that work on the roof I myself would be out like a light. BELLE: Remember. Not a word of this to your mother. CHIP: OK. Don't worry. My lips are sealed.Don't worry. My lips are sealed.? LUMIERE: Consertina. That's a sharp in measure four. Tubaloo. Let's try up an octave. TUBALOO: Right. CONSERTINA: Maestro. I could use a break. These lively French melodies are murder. LUMIERE: What? I'll give you a break when you play it right. COGSWORTH: What was that infernal racket? LUMIERE: I'm surprised you don't recognize the work of the maestro Michel de la Land. CHIP: I thought the circus had come to town. COGSWORTH: Ha ha ha ha. Well said. That. Dreadful piece. Completely inappropriate. LUMIERE: You. I suppose, have something better. COGSWORTH: Well. Yes. As a matter of fact. I shall be composing an original symphony for the eventI shall be composing an original symphony for the event. An opus of sorts. What do you think? LUMIERE: I think you're wound up a little too tight. COGSWORTH: Be that as it may. Tubaloo and Consertina have already agreed to perform my piece. CONSERTINA: Well. Cogsworth did approach us first. Lumiere. TUBALOO: But we made no promise to him exclusively. We can play for both of you. LUMIERE: There isn't time. The cake is rolled in. And that's it. COGSWORTH: Very well. Then. We'll both prepare. LUMIERE: And let Belle decide who will conduct. TRES: Angel's food. CHAUD: Devil's food! EGG BEATER: Please. My friends. A little cooperation for the sakes of our jobs! Please! I beg of you. If the chef overhears such. CHEF BOUCHE: What is going on here? EGG BEATER: Nothing. Sir. Proceeding with blending. Sir. CHEF BOUCHE: Stop with this incessant bickering at once. Now get back to work! TRES: Angel's food. CHAUD: Devil's food. LUMIERE: Ah. So much to choose from! COGSWORTH: Lilies, now there's a flower that makes a statement. LUMIERE: Yes. "welcome to the funeral." That's the statement. But roses, ah. They are a different storyBut roses, ah. They are a different story. COGSWORTH: Fine. Do as you will. I'm picking lilies. Ah. Mrs. Potts. Up and around. Are you? MRS. POTTS: There's only so much rest one can have in a day. My. What lovely lilies. Whoever are they for? COGSWORTH: The... why. Uh... they're. Uh... the master. Of course. MRS. POTTS: The master? You can't be serious. COGSWORTH: Oh. Flowers have become quite important to his eminence. He requested lilies be brought to his room at once demanded it. In fact. MRS. POTTS: How very strange. In all my years. He's never shown the slightest interest in them. COGSWORTH: Obviously. He's turned over. Um. A new leaf... ha ha ha. Ahh. Too bad. Can't wake him. We'll have to do it later. MRS. POTTS: Nah. Don't be silly. He's out like a log. We'll just place them about quietly. This is going to look lovely. BELLE: Chef Bouche. What is it? Are you all right? CHEF BOUCHE: Oh! These two mitts... they're driving me crazy. You know? Oh. Please. Please. Someone take them off Chef Bouche's delicate hands. TRES: Angel's food. CHAUD: Devil's food. BELLE: Are you two still bickering? OK, look. What if we have a two-layer cake. Hmm? One layer can be angel's food. The other can be devil's food. TRES: Hmm. It has. CHAUD Possibilities. BELLE: Please. All of you. Try to work together. This should be fun. And we're running out of time. In fact. Let's find Lumiere and Cogsworth and tell them the same thing. CHEF BOUCHE: "Work together"...bah! Has she not heard that too many cooks spoil the broth? BELLE: Why won't everybody work together? CHIP: You need my mama for that. BELLE: You are so right. Chip. And to think she's the one person we can't tell about the party. Well. There's irony for you. CHANDELERIA: Oh. I wouldn't give him any ironing. Dear. He's just a teacup. BELLE: "Irony." Chandeliera. Not "ironing." CHANDELERIA: Oh. Yes. Ahem. Ha ha.

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