Boswell. Nigel Boswell. Agent 006. Do you know what that means?
Yes. It means you are one short of the big-time.
Boswell. Nigel Boswell. Agent 006. Do you know what that means?
Yes. It means you are one short of the big-time.
And you are?
Gilbert Ponton. Detective, Second Class.
And what qualifications do you have for police work?
My family has done police work in Paris for nine generations.
And before zat?
We were policemen in the surrounding areas for two hundred years.
And before zat?
Immigrants from various countries in Europe, all involved in police work.
And before zat?
Farmers.
Mm. So you are a little lamb who has come to Clouseau for to learn. Gilbert Ponton, I vow to teach you everything I know about police work. And together, we are going to catch a killer.
You are the soccer player known as Bizu?!
Yes.
You are acquainted with Yves Gluant?!
I'm glad he's pushing up daisies.
'e is not pushing up daisies. 'e is dead!
It's an idiom!
You, sir, are the idiom. Now, unless you want to spend ze rest of your life in prison, you will answer ze next question: did you kill him?!
I would have loved to have killed him.
Duh!
But, some lucky bastard beat me to it.
You disgust me! I'll be right back. [Clouseau leaves, closing the door behind him, but immediately opens it again.] Cigarette?
No. Thanks.
Good for you. Bizu, I know you didn't do it. Someone else did, and they are trying to set you up.
You'll help me?
Of course I'll help you. Now, do you have any idea who could have done this terrible thing?
His partner in those stupid restaurants, Larocque.
Raymond Larocque, the casino owner!
Gluant would steal money from the restaurants and use it to gamble. My guess is Larocque got fed up and had him killed.
Bizu, I like you. I am going to help you. You and I are going to make a great team.
Ze good-cop, bad-cop routine is working perfectly!
You know, usually, two different cops do that.
You are under arrest for ze' murder of Pierre Fouquette! [Is pointing at a Basset hound]
You are under arrest for ze' murdur of Pierre Fouquette! [Is pointing at a baby]
You are under arrest for ze' murdur of Pierre Fouquette! [Is pointing at Pierre Fouquette, who is eating a meal] Pierre Fouquette?! Ze Case is closed!
I would like to take a closer look at your bawls.
My what?
Your bawls. Your big, brass bawls.
Uh, sure.
Without you, I would be nothing!
Perhaps you still are.
Ha! Excellent verbal joust, inspector! We must do lunch sometime. Had it not been for you, who knows? Someone else might have won the Medal of Honor this year.
Yes, I know. Idiot. [Looks down] Oh no.
What? What did you say?
Nothing.
You mean, you didn't just say: Stop the car, dear God, I beg of you, stop the car?
No.
Hmm.
CLOUSEAU!
It is very important that you remain calm and do not turn around.
Remain calm, do not turn around.
Behind you in the casino are the Gas Mask Bandits.
Oh my God! Ze Gas Mask Bandits!
He was just found dead in a training facility locker room. Shot in the head.
Was it fatal?
Yes.
How fatal?
Um, completely.
I want to speak to him now!
He's dead.
You wanted to see me?
You are Vainquer?
Yes. And who are you?
I am Inspector Clouseau. Per'aps you 'ave 'eard of me.
No.
Don't write that down!
What do you want?
I am told that Bizu hated Gluant.
A lot of people hated Gluant.
Did you?
I spent six years under his thumb, being verbally abused every day. Yes, I was not a fan of Yves Gluant.
And now 'e is dead... and you have his job. How ironic.
Not every death is a tragedy.
And, what was the-
Footsteps. Its a young woman. 30 to 35 years old. 5"2, 5"4. Brunette. And she is wearing high heels. Perhaps a bit too formal for the afternoon. She has on...[sniffs air] Chanel number 5. [The footsteps are shown to be those of Yuri, the team trainer].
Is anyone with you?
No.
Do you have a pair of high 'eels in that bag?
No.
Not even a small pair of pumps?
No?
Who are you?
I am Yuri, the trainer.
So what is it you do here, Yuri the trainer?
I... train.
So you are Yuri the trainer who trains. humph. [turns away from Yuri, then suddenly turns and points at Yuri]
DO NOT LEAVE EUROPE!
Bu-but I have to go to Asia.
Okay... DO NOT LEAVE EUROPE OR ASIA!
And we have one match in Brazil.
Alright... DO NOT LEAVE EUROPE, ASIA, OR ZE AMERICAS!
Okay.
A woman is like an artichoke. You have to do some work before you get to her heart.
Ah, Clouseau. Yes, well, the first time I ever heard that name, Clouseau was just a little nobody. He was the village idiot, as far as I could tell. As Chief Inspector of the Police Nationale, I hear many stories of our officers in the field. Clouseau generated many... many stories. Needless to say, Clouseau did not qualify for any advancement whatsoever. I never thought for a moment that I would have any use for him, until that fateful day. It was a perfect day for a murder. France against China, with the winner advancing to the finals. I had been invited, as Chief Inspector of the Police Nationale, and because of my recent nomination for the Medal of Honor. I have been nominated seven times. I have never won. But still, seven nominations. That's... something. Anyway, the Coach of the French team, Yves Gluant, came out for his customary ovation. On it: the Pink Panther diamond. It was quite the symbol of pride and victory for the French team. Gluant's girlfriend at that time was Xania, the international pop star. They had been having quite a stormy affair. By the end of regulation time, the score was tied, and the game went into sudden death. For a patriotic fan and true Frenchman like myself, it was almost too thrilling to believe. And then... the miracle. And then, in front of a stadium filled with people, Gluant collapsed, dead, a poison dart in his neck. And the Pink Panther had disappeared.