Sweet Punkin I Love You (1976) Movie Script
(Dramatic synth music)
- Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the crean-Smith household.
- They're bigger and greater
than you will ever be.
I am Peter the great, the greatest lover
in all the russias.
I am 13 inches long.
- Boy, you ain't nothing
with that cotton picking peanut you got.
- Now that is enough from the both of you,
put your things away.
I shall sculpt from memory.
(Soft keyboard music)
- I'm bigger than you are.
- I'm bigger, I got 14 inches.
- You liar, you filthy
son of a cossack's horse.
- Boys, boys, please! I
simply cannot concentrate
with this constant bickering.
Diana, did you ever hear such an argument?
- Darling, ithinkthe
only way to settle it
is to try them both out.
- In a trice, my dear, but
first, my inspiration is coming.
I must have one last curve.
- And here we have deidre and
Diana, and the two Peters,
uninvited house guests using
the crean-Smith garden.
- Something else we don't talk
about anymore is great Peter.
Back in the hills, I once
took on 20 women at one time.
- Bah, I can do better than that.
I have 30 women in Siberia
and they do not even feel the cold.
- Huh, I fucked 40 of 'em all in a row,
one right after the other.
Each one had an orgasm and I
came 40 times in 15 minutes.
- You both are utterly impossible.
Now quit showing off, I simply cannot work
under these conditions.
Oh, by the way. Diana,
darling, did you tell
the new Mrs. Crean-Smith
that we were here?
- Don't be absurd, darling.
Why bother?
- Enter our heroine.
- Who are you?
- Punkin crean-Smith.
- What's going on out here?
- Young mistress of the house.
- Who let you use this garden?
- Oh, punkin, darling this is deidre,
an old friend of Jason's.
He always let her use the house to sculpt.
The north light, you know.
We wouldn't wanna disappoint
the old gentlemen,
wherever he may be.
- I guess not.
- Well, well, well. So
this is the famous maid.
She's not half bad looking, is she, Diana?
My dear, I've always used
the garden for my work.
Jason was a patron of the arts.
There's no reason not
to continue, is there?
- I don't really know very
much about this sort of thing.
But if Jason wanted it,
don't let me interrupt.
- Poor punkin, thrown
out of her own garden.
- Well, why on earth would he
marry her, the silly old fool?
After all, he could have had
her for $25 if he just wanted
to try and get laid.
- (Indistinct), I suppose.
- Come on, let's find
out which one is bigger.
- And here am I, Dixon, the Butler.
- Dixon, I don't think I'll ever fit in.
Mrs. Carswell still
treats me like a servant.
- Alas, punkin's only friend.
- She is.
She's probably got the clap anyway.
- Deidre, you do come up
with the damnedest models.
- Yes, don't I?
Well, come along, darlings,
my breeding demands propriety,
so let's go inside.
- Now we will see which one is bigger.
(Indistinct chatter)
- Now we find out typically,
I am bigger than you.
- Boy, I keep telling you, I'm bigger.
- No, I am bigger than you.
- I don't wanna hear that.
- Well, I can't really seem to tell.
It seems that Peter the
great is a little bit longer
than the great Peter.
But his girth is so much bigger.
- Girth'?
Lady, you trying to insult me?
- Oh, darling, it's all right.
Now be a precious love and shut up.
- Okay.
- Well, I guess we shall just
have to judge empirically.
Diana, open your mouth.
- Oh, deidre, darling, I don't
think I can get it all in.
- Oh, nonsense, darling,
we're a joie de vivre,
your je ne sais quoi.
- I am bigger than you.
- I am bigger.
- Ah, careless cockmonger.
- Oh, you foreigners are all alike.
- Now, listen, boys, no fighting, please.
We shall be the judges.
(Harpsichord music)
- I tell you, I am the biggest.
There is none bigger in all the world,
in all the universe.
- You goddamn, silly ass
fool, you aint no bigger
than my old hound dog.
- I am Peter the great.
- And I, you fucker, am the
great Peter, the biggest prick
north of the Mason-Dixon line.
- Nah, you Americans always
phony, always exaggerate.
- You pinko prick, that
cock ain't got no dignity,
it's downright trash.
(Harpsichord music continues)
You call that a cock?
My momma's broom handle is better.
- Believe me, punkin, that
bitch is no better than you are.
- Dixon, has all this
food rotted your brain?
They're living in another world.
- You wanna bet?
Take a look outside and
see the other world.
(Harpsichord music)
- This is child's play.
Like I'd take candy from a baby.
You see, I won the contest.
- I'm winning, you little man.
- Punkin would never be one of them.
Her mouth was so much bigger.
So I went on finishing my pie.
- Now we will see which one is bigger.
- Ah, you foreigners are all alike,
you think you know everything.
- I am bigger and greater
than you will ever be.
I am Peter the great,
the greatest lover...
- I had to see how punkin
would handle the bitches.
Oh, this was getting
better than a soap opera.
- But Jason...
- To my surprise, she just stood
there muttering to herself,
too intimidated to speak.
I guessed she was thinking about the past
and how she had gotten
to this moment in time.
Before her marriage, she
was just poor punkin peel,
used and abused by everyone.
I remember as though it were yesterday...
When she was fired from her part-time job.
I remember...
How well I remember.
- Women these days.
Now, let's try it again.
Straight flush down over there.
Two aces and a king.
Another straight flush down here.
Aces a pair.
- Now wait a minute, let me...
Ah, oh, yes.
I get behind that.
Now you're talking.
Go ahead.
(Men talking indistinctly)
- No, no, no.
Impossible.
Impossible.
Just absolutely impossible.
When I state "give head," I mean head.
What is the matter with you?
Miss peel, your lips.
Your lips are to form an
"ooh," around the head
of the cock.
Your mouth is supposed to
stimulate the young man,
go up and down and arouse him.
Let's pretend, for the sake of the movie,
that you are not dead.
We'll try it one more time.
Now, my darlings.
- Ooh, she did what?
- Aces in the place.
- Oh, I'm out of money.
- You're out of money?
What the fuck is this?
This is a piece of shit...
- Cut. Out.
Cut. Out.
In all my years of making porno films,
I have never experienced this.
What is it you are doing, miss peel?
You are definitely not a cock sucker.
I told them not to hire a woman.
Miss peel, if you cannot do
what you are supposed to do,
and all what comes naturally to you,
then what is it that you can do?
- But what am I doing wrong?
- Shut up, miss peel.
You are not supposed to
be a construction worker
playing pocket pool.
You're supposed to be a woman.
A woman.
Do you hear me?
Your mouth is supposed to
stimulate the young man,
not emasculate him.
We'll try it one more time.
Just once.
- I don't know about you...
- Camera.
- But I don't wanna work
- with this fucking faggot.
- Sound.
- That's the worst fucking film.
- Fuck him.
You know, he's a real scumbag.
Look at us.
Look at what he's done.
Look at us.
(Both speaking over each other)
Kings and aces.
- Oh shit, man.
This ain't nothing.
I ain't got nothing in this
mother here but your face.
Is that what the rain
coat thing coming to see,
your god damn face? They coming to see
some in-and-out, pumping
and grinding shit.
Man, what you talking about, fool?
I'm coming here to do a job.
I got my camera, I got my
man standing by with film,
I got the tape recorder,
I got all this shit.
Don't you understand we is
here creating some shit, man?
I've got to see some pussy.
Now let's get it on.
Jesus, motherfucker.
Christ almighty.
- I'm sorry, Vladimir, my dear.
- Shit, y'all called me vlad.
- Oh, vlad.
Evidently, miss peel thinks we're doing
a shampoo commercial.
We are not interested in you, miss peel.
We are interested in Sandy's cock.
(Phone ringing)
- Here.
What?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Punkin, punkin.
- Hello?
Oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't realize it was so late.
But Dixon, this is my morning off.
What does he want now?
Can't you give him his hot water bottle?
All right. All right.
I'll be there as soon as I can.
In about an hour or so.
Okay?
Bye, Dixon.
Um, it was my boss.
He can't take his nap unless
I fill his hot water bottle.
I'll be there in about an hour or so.
If that's all right?
- You're quite wrong, miss peel.
You can be there now.
You are fired.
Get off my set and don't
ever try to get a job
in the porno field again.
You're washed up, or
at least you should be.
- But don't I get paid?
- Try eighth Avenue.
Get out.
Out, out, out, out, out.
Get off my set.
Out.
- So much for punkin's movie career.
- Everybody back to work.
Come on men, I'll finish the job myself.
Women's liberation?
Fooey, that stupid cow.
Sandy, love, I'll show
you how a real woman
goes about her work.
- Thanks, I'm not working
on one of those movies.
- What the hell's the matter with you?
I'm no faggot.
Hey, get me some help.
Get me some help.
I do straight films.
I'm no faggot.
What is this?
- Get over here.
Get over here.
- Right this minute.
- Not my job, man.
- Get over here.
- I'm no faggot.
- And here, we have Mr. Crean-Smith,
my boss and a dirty old man
who doesn't believe in banks.
Every morning, winter
and summer, he sits out
in that garden and counts.
They say that's what keeps him alive.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- well, here I am again, preparing crepes.
Hey, I'm not queer
or anything like that, as you'll soon see,
I just love to get my hands around
all that soft, yielding dough.
It feels just like flesh.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
- Let the old fart count
his dough, I'll make mine.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- let me tell you a little
bit more about punkin.
She started working here
about six months ago
and quickly made her way from the upstairs
to the downstairs, with
a little help from me.
I taught her everything she knew
and she serviced the whole staff.
Oh, this batter is simply divine.
Ah, here she is now.
- Boy, do I feel lousy.
- Ah, what's wrong, pussycat?
- I lost my part-time job.
- Oh, and you're late
for your full-time job.
- Oh, you won't tell Mr.
- Crean-Smith, will you?
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- I will, unless you
let me help you change
into your uniform.
- Oh, no, not that again.
- Well you don't wanna
lose your job, do ya?
- No, well...
All right.
(Dixon screams)
- Oh, burned myself again.
Damn those new pans.
Ooh, mustn't let my crepe burn.
That girl always does this to me.
I just forget where I am.
I think it's her clothes,
such quiet, good taste.
- Hey, don't you ever stop cooking?
- Never.
With a little coaxing from me,
we'll finish off those crepes with style.
- I've heard of obsessions.
Sex, drinking, religion.
But food?
Dixon, I think you're bananas.
- No, no, no, punkin.
You don't put bananas in
crepes, you use preserves.
- Have you ever gone
to a shrink about this?
- Don't be ridiculous.
As long as I have my pots, I'm content.
My stove is my altar and
my gods are Julia child
and Oscar of the Waldorf.
- Tell me, Dixon, what makes you this way?
- I dunno.
Some people collect butterflies,
some people movie posters.
Me?
I cook.
My mother was Jewish, so I guess
a little bit's in my blood.
I don't know, food makes me think of sex,
and sex makes me think of food.
Food makes me think of sex.
Well, there you are.
- Yeah, here I am.
- Well, you know what I
always say, a pan in the hand
and a girl is grand, but
a pot of bouillabaisse
is better than a raise.
- Oh, get on with it.
- Right you are, pet.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
.f the years go by .f
.f as quickly as you blink .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- tell me, punkin, what exactly did you do
in this part-time job?
- Come on, I'll show you.
Maybe I can do a better
job of it this time.
(Twangy guitar music)
- Oh, you're doing just fine.
In and out.
That's right.
Oh, that jelly is delicious.
You want some?
Oh, never mind.
Keep going.
Mmm.
You...
Mmm.
Poor kid, I bet you haven't had lunch yet.
Here, have a banana.
Oh, that's a good girl.
No.
Oh, no, don't bite the wrong one.
Careful.
.F enjoy yourself .f
-mmm.
.F it's later than you think .f
- ooh, good.
Mmm.
Mmm.
.F enjoy yourself .f
-mmm.
Oh, it's absolutely delicious.
.F enjoy yourself .f
-Mmm.
Mmm.
You don't mind if I eat while you work?
I knew you wouldn't.
Oh, these crepes are so fucking good.
A blow job, haute cuisine.
What more could a man ask for?
Mmm.
Oh, I'm being selfish.
Here, punkin, have a taste.
I'll put some on my cock,
sweeten it up for you.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Have a taste of my creation.
Good, huh?
Mmm.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Oh, suck it, punkin.
Suck harder.
Mmm.
Use your tongue.
Mmm.
I'm gonna cum, punkin.
Mmm.
I can't wait.
I can't wait.
Ooh.
I'm cumming!
Ooh.
Ooh, that oozing jelly.
Ooh.
I'm cumming!
Ah!
The crepes.
I've ruined the crepes.
I'm cumming!
Oh, I'm still cumming!
I'm gonna stay here with
my beautiful blintzes.
- I better see what the old man is up to.
.F as quickly as you blink .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
(man coughing)
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
- Why, Mr. Crean-Smith, you dirty old man.
- Oh, I'm not so old.
I still have some good stuff left in me.
I know a pretty one when I see her.
Those doctors are just
a bunch of dam fools.
- Oh, they know what's best
for you, Mr. Crean-Smith.
- Oh, you call me Jason.
- Why, Mr. Crean-Smith.
- Now, look, punkin, I've had
my eye on you for a long time.
I've got a proposition to make for you.
I have no heirs.
I want you to marry me and give me a son.
- Erm, may I sit down, Jason?
- Sure.
- Ooh.
I've had a rather hard day
and I think my hearing's been affected.
- Nah, there's nothing
wrong with your hearing.
You heard me right.
I wanna marry you.
- But I'm your maid.
And in my spare time...
Well, never mind about my spare time.
- Oh, punkin, all of this
will be yours if you marry me
and give me a son.
Will you accept?
- Can you still do it?
- Can I still do it?
I get it up every time I count my money.
Will you accept?
- But what would your friends say?
- Fuck my friends.
- Do you mean that I
would live here with you?
- Right beside me.
Why, punkin, you don't have any
idea what money really buys.
When you marry me, you
become Mrs. Crean-Smith,
a great lady.
The only things that are
different between my friends
and you is their bank accounts.
And the only reason they are my friends
is because I'm richer than they are.
They're all waiting for me to die,
so they can get their inheritances.
(Jason laughing)
- Don't you have a family?
- Not a one.
My children all died
years ago, very painfully.
When I marry you, everyone will
say that you are marrying me
for my money.
- And they'll be right.
Now what do you think about
what your friends will say?
- I say they should all
disembowel themselves
on their Cadillacs.
- You know, Jason, in spite
of your money, I like you.
I accept.
- I knew you would.
- At his age, who was he trying to kid?
Well, the marriage was not
well-received by his friends.
A bride 50 years younger than the old man,
and she a servant, yet. Punkin
would never be accepted.
- Will you please hurry?
We don't have much time.
- Don't be plebian, Henry.
We have plenty of time
before that grotesquerie.
How can he do this to us?
- He's not doing it to us, darling.
He's doing it to himself.
- Well, I won't go.
- You will go, and you'll
be pleasant about it, too.
- I will not be polite to a maid.
The idea of introducing a
servant into our circles!
- Well, if she has any brains
at all, she'll stay out of it.
- Oh, Henry, how can you?
- Now, you listen to me,
Jason crean-Smith is
the richest man I know,
and I'm his lawyer, and you
will be cordial and polite.
Do you understand?
- I think it's disgraceful.
The only answer is that
Jason is finally senile.
I mean, marrying her?
Do you know that she's
been in pornography?
- Yes, I know all about her, darling.
Now will you please get out of that tub?
You've been in it for hours.
- My very first wedding.
I was so excited, I put
Rosemary in the truffles.
Rosemary is a spice, you know?
Ah, well, the sauce was delicious anyway.
The chickens were positively gorgeous.
The wine...
A sommelier's delight.
The fruit...
Ah, the fruit was
glistening and succulent.
And the cake?
The cake...
Just look at it.
Need I say more?
The delicacy, the carvings, the icing.
I had poured my soul into this marvel
of confectionary delight.
This was the essence of wedding cake.
Oh, pardon me, this is Denise,
the new downstairs maid.
Denise, I really outdid myself this time.
What a beautiful fucking cake.
I hope the old fart
eats it and drops dead.
Denise, baby, suck me off.
I need some inspiration.
I was determined that punkin's wedding
would be a gourmet
success, if nothing else.
Look at the swirls.
Are you looking at the swirls?
A double layer.
This was all for the poor, little girl
born on the wrong side of the tracks.
Maybe I could help her cross over.
- I could have married any man
I wanted the year I came out
and I had to pick you.
I should have listened to my mother,
she told me never to marry you.
- Yeah, well, I wish you
had listened to the old bag.
- How dare you?
Your family was nothing.
Without my social connections,
you wouldn't even know
the crean-smiths.
- Yeah, yeah, I know all about it.
Now you get out of that tub
and get dressed in 15 minutes,
or you're gonna go in bubbles.
- Danielle?
Danielle?
What is that?
Where have you been?
- Oh, but madam, I am preparing
your gown for the evening.
- Yeah, never mind that.
Be a love and rub my neck.
- Oh, oui, madam.
-Ah.
Oh, Denise.
Oh, look at those swirls.
Oh!
Denise, get into it.
Suck it, Denise.
Suck it.
Hard.
She doesn't talk much,
but she has obvious sterling qualities.
She was a great help to me in the kitchen.
Oh!
Oh, oh, Denise.
Scurrying and mixing
and the like.
Without her sweet assistance,
I could never have created this feast.
A little bit faster, Denise.
Oh, not too fast.
I don't wanna mess my cake.
She also polished the silver.
Can you get into those swirls?
Denise, suck me off, I
need a little inspiration.
Not too bright, but terribly cooperative.
Oh, I'm getting inspired already.
Oh, what a beautiful fucking cake.
Oh!
Ooh!
- Marrying a maid.
I don't know why such trash
is allowed to corrupt our society.
There ought to be a law.
- Oh, oui, madam.
Madame is going to be late for the party.
- Fuck the party.
- Oh, madame.
- Ooh.
Put some...
Put some icing on my cock.
Ooh.
Ah, lick it off, Denise.
Lick it off.
Oh, suck it, Denise.
Ooh.
Suck it.
Suck it a little harder.
Little...
Ooh, that's it.
Denise had lips as
succulent as a cherry tart.
Ooh, not too hard, I don't
wanna fuck up the cake.
Oh, oh, yeah, that's it.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Ooh.
Ah, Denise.
Ooh.
Oh, you feel so good.
I'd love to fuck you.
That's it, right there.
Just a little bit faster.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, that's good.
- Diana?
Diana?
- Master can wait.
- Can you please hurry up?
- I want a massage.
- Get your ass out of that tub.
- Put your hands on me
in the usual places,
the way you always do, Danielle.
- Yes, I know, madame.
- Diana, what the hell
are you doing up there?
Diana?
Hey, what the hell are you...
Oh, not again.
The debutant nymphomaniac, huh?
And you call other people names.
- Shut up.
If you were a man and could satisfy me,
I wouldn't have to resort to this.
- Well, I'm not gonna argue with you.
Danielle, finish her off
and get her dressed.
- Oui, monsieur.
- And make sure she has her orgasm,
or there'll be hell to pay.
- Do as the master says, Danielle.
Everyone has their place and
your place is serving me.
- Oui, madame.
- I don't know why some
people have the bad taste
to go where they don't belong.
I would never go to
the servant's quarters.
And I know you would
never have the bad manners
to come to my rooms unless ordered to.
- Oh, oui, madame.
- Danielle?
- Oui, madame?
- Say the things you always
say when you're massaging me.
- Oui, madame.
Madame has skin like cool, smooth, satin.
How pure and white it is.
- Don't stop.
Say some more.
Tell me about how my
breasts and my nipples feel
underyourhands.
- As you wish, madame.
Madame's breasts are round and smooth,
as white and pure as a dove's.
- Go on.
- Ah, your nipples.
They are pink and super stiff.
- Don't stop.
- Madame, I can't.
- Tell me you love me.
- But I don't, madame.
- Say it anyway.
Say it, Danielle.
Say it.
I want you to say that you love me.
- I love you.
Oh, madame, it is not right.
- It's not your place to say
what's wrong and what's right.
I tell you what to say.
You work for me, you're my
servant, and I want you to say
that you love me.
- Oui, madame.
I love you.
- Now say you wanna be
in the water with me.
In the hot water.
Your body next to mine.
Your fingers up my cunt.
My body writhing against
your thrusting fingers.
Oh, Danielle, fuck me.
Fuck me.
- Denise.
Denise, baby, get up on that chair.
Come on.
Ever so carefully, I moved the
white masterpiece to safety.
I thought the swans
holding up the second tier
was my supreme accomplishment,
my coup de grace.
I was overcome with my own genius.
Denise, put your hands up.
That's it.
That's it.
Now, spread your legs.
And now Denise was going
to experience my release.
Oh, that feels so good.
Oh, watch it, keep away from the chickens.
Thank you.
(Both moaning)
Oh, Denise, look at those chickens.
I picked 'em out myself.
(Moaning continues)
Did you ever see anything as
beautiful as those chickens?
Did you, Denise?
Don't talk to me, Denise.
Please don't talk.
(Moaning continues)
(Denise panting)
Oh, good fuck.
This fuck is as good as my cake.
(Denise panting)
(Dixon groaning)
Oh, Denise.
Oh, Denise.
Denise.
She had no idea that she was being fucked
by the chef of chefs.
The gourmet's gourmet.
The maestro of the kitchen.
(Dramatic orchestral music)
(Funky music)
(Woman moaning)
- More.
Oh, Danielle.
(Moaning continues)
- Ooh, it's good.
Ooh, so wet.
So wet.
Oh, and warm.
Ooh.
(Woman moaning)
Oh, magnifique.
(Woman moaning)
- Denise, I'm going crazy.
I wanna cum all over that cake.
Oh!
(Dixon moaning)
Oh, wait 'til the old
fart bites into my cum.
Hey, Denise?
(Denise moaning) (Dixon moaning)
Can I, Denise?
You're a better fuck than that chicken.
The second one from the right.
Denise, I'm gonna cum.
I'm gonna...
Ooh.
All over the cake.
Icing.
I'm gonna cum.
I'm cumming.
I'm cumming.
(Dixon moaning)
Ooh, all over the cake.
Ooh, it's all over the cake.
Look at that, Denise,
fresh icing! And I made it.
I made it, Denise.
I'm gonna cum on the bride and groom.
Lick some off, Denise.
Just a little bit.
No, lick a lot off.
The head.
I came! All over the cake!
It's all over the cake, Denise.
And it's white.
(Bridal march plays)
- Dearly beloved, we
are gathered here today
to join this man and this
woman in holy matrimony.
Do you, punkin peel,
take Jason crean-Smith
to love, honor and Cherish in sickness
and health until death do you part?
-I do.
- Well, there we were,
the wedding of the season.
Lush and lavish to a fault.
- Honor and Cherish in
sickness and health until death
do you part?
- Yeah.
- May I see the ring?
- Yeah, yeah.
Here you go.
- You may put the ring on her finger.
By the powers invested in
me, I now pronounce you
man and wife.
You may kiss the bride.
- Poor punkin, marrying
that senile, old hypocrite.
- Congratulations, Jason.
She's lovely.
- Yes, I think so.
She'll be a welcome addition
to our tired old coterie.
- You sly old dog.
You rogue, you.
Well, I guess that'll mean
that you're going to write up
a new will, huh?
- Yeah, you bet your legal balls I will.
- You are such a jokester.
- You're a card yourself.
- Yeah, yeah.
Look, why don't you come
by the office tomorrow
and bring punkin with you,
and we'll draw up a new will for ya.
You know what?
I just can't imagine you
getting married again.
You know? And to your maid, even.
And at your age.
Dixon, congratulate them.
- Congratulations.
- Look at that innocent face.
- Henry, why didn't Diana come?
- Ah, she suddenly came down with a virus.
All the soaking in the tub,
all that water, you know.
- Wrinkles on her belly, huh?
- Yeah, yeah.
You know, sometimes I
wonder why I married her.
Well, I hope that you and
punkin will be happier.
- Oh, punkin and I are
like two peas in a pod.
Two little cherubims perfectly
meant for each other.
- Good.
- Henry, this is the
spring time of my life.
You know, I always wondered
why you married Diana.
She seemed so remote.
So cold.
- Why doesn't Mrs. Carswell like me?
- Punkin, Mrs. Carswell
doesn't even like herself.
Say, where are the rest of the guests?
- I was...
I was wondering about that too.
Must be a mistake in the time.
Well, don't just stand there,
Dixon, open the caviar.
This isn't a funeral,
break open the champagne.
Hup, hup, hup, Dixon.
Hup, hup, hup, hup, hup.
Let's go, hop to it, Dixon.
Let's go, let's have a party.
This isn't a funeral.
- Yes, sir.
Miserable old goat.
- Very good Butler.
British extraction.
Found him living in soho
with two negroid ladies.
Ah, Dixon, go see what
happened to the other guests.
- Yes, sir.
- Here's to my beautiful bride, punkin.
- To the poor, little rich girl.
I mean...
- Oh, you just say anything you want.
I don't feel a day over 50.
- Well, I'm glad you feel that way.
- There won't be any other guests, sir.
Mr. Carswell is the only one.
- What?
What? What?
- It seems they all took ill
or got busy at the same time.
- That's outrageous.
I invited hundreds.
Look at all the silver.
Why, when I get married, I want my friends
to celebrate with me.
Oh, punkin.
Punkin.
- The house of Usher had
nothing on old crean-Smith.
Well, so much for the wedding of the year.
Elsa Maxwell he wasn't.
- What a damn mess.
I told you this wouldn't work.
I'm an idiot to think I could
have gotten away with it.
- Oh, it doesn't matter.
I don't give a damn
about those hypocrites.
Oh, now, don't cry,
punkin, you're my wife now,
and that's all that counts.
I'll fix those sons of bitches.
I've got more money than
all of 'em put together.
Why, don't I count it every day?
Ah, c'mon, punkin, don't cry.
This is our wedding night,
and from now on, everything
is going to be different.
- Even if I change, what good is it?
They'll never accept me.
They all think I married
you for your money
and that's not true anymore.
Jason, we'll only make
each other miserable.
I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry for all of this.
- Don't you worry about what they think.
I'm the one you've got to worry about.
I'm the one with all the money.
Punkin, make love to me now.
- I will, Jason.
- You know, I'm gonna...
I'm gonna need all the help I can get
if we're gonna have a child.
Punkin, I don't know where to begin.
- Just leave everything to me.
Some things just come naturally.
- I hope so.
- What do you suppose she's
doing to him up there?
- It's not any of your concern.
- It is my concern.
Because if she's doing
what I think she's doing,
we're gonna have to send all this stuff
straight to the wake.
- Dixon, you really kill me.
- Punkin, my young love.
You do make me fee! 30 years younger.
Is it all right, punkin?
- Yes.
Yes, Jason, I do want to please you.
- Jason.
-I do.
I do wanna make love to you.
- Are you okay?
Say something.
Jason.
Jason?
(Punkin screaming)
- And so, I leave my entire
estate to my beloved wife,
and $25,000 to Dixon, my devoted servant.
I hereby bequest my friend
and lawyer, Henry carswell,
to be executor of my estate
and to look after my wife
after I'm gone.
I ask him to be a friend of
punkin, as he once was to me.
To punkin, take heart, my
young wife, and try to make
a new life for yourself in
which you will be very happy.
Well, that's the will.
All that remains is punkin's
signature on a few papers.
Dixon, would you mind leaving?
And take Mrs. Carswell with you.
I'll drive the madame home.
If you need a friend, I'll be there.
Just as Jason wanted.
- Home, Dixon.
- I don't deserve your friendship, Henry.
I killed him.
It's my fault.
He died in my arms.
He would still be alive
if it wasn't for me.
- Nonsense, you didn't kill him.
Jason was an old man.
You simply gave him a little
happiness before he died.
Poor punkin, you look all worn out.
Come sit by the fire and have some Brandy.
- Henry, I don't know what
I'm going to do anymore.
I feel so alone.
It's been so long since
I've been with someone else.
- Oh, punkin.
You're not alone now.
Why don't you lie down in my lap
and let me soothe you?
You're probably tense.
It's been a long day.
Now, just relax.
Yeah.
- Henry, you always were so kind to me.
- Punkin, I know all
about you and your life.
And I think that you have
one desire, one need,
and that's just to be made love to.
- Henry, I've lost everything in my life.
Please don't hurt me now.
(Soft piano music)
(Punkin moaning)
Henry, tell me that you love me.
I know you do, I can feel it.
- Love?
I never said anything about love.
I mean...
I've got a wife.
A social position that I...
Maybe we could have an arrangement,
once or twice a week in my office.
- No.
No arrangements, I think I've
had enough of that in my life.
I wanna be loved.
I wanna be cared for.
No, never an arrangement.
- Okay.
Let's get dressed.
- This isn't really
part of punkin's story,
but I thought you might be interested
in how I spend my spare time.
Friday night, it's my obsession.
Mon dieu!
- Now that's Danielle, the
maid from the carswell mansion.
You remember?
- You must marry me.
Madame carswell is like a bitch in heat.
I cannot stay there much longer.
Oh, she's a (indistinct French).
- Danielle, where's your
passionate French soul?
- Well, it would be here with
you if you will stop throwing
carrots from the bed.
- If I married you, what kind of a kitchen
could we have together?
Think of it, Danielle,
every conceivable pot
and pan at my disposal.
Electric stove, electric mixers.
I'd have to give that all up.
- Charles, you're mad.
Do I mean nothing to you?
- Oh, of course you do, cherie.
But punkin needs me, too.
She's just learning to be
the mistress of the house.
- Oh, this new madame.
She wraps the men around
her little finger.
She was a maid, she worked for you,
and now you feel sorry for her.
I think you have a (indistinct French).
- That's what I love about you, Danielle.
Such a generous soul.
One more carrot and I'm all yours.
(Harpsichord music)
Poor little rich girl.
All alone.
Oh well, c'est la vie.
(Harpsichord music cont.)
I felt sorry for her, I really did.
Oh, fuck me, Danielle.
(Dixon moaning)
(Danielle moaning)
Doesn't it feel like a great,
white carrot, Danielle?
I feel like a pig in a blanket.
Afrank in a bun.
A chocolate in a mousse.
There's nothing more
delicious than a French pussy.
Except maybe a Napoleon.
I'm the flambe on your cherry.
Look, Danielle, I'm cumming.
I'm gonna cum.
Oh!
(Dixon moaning)
Here I cum, cherie!
Oh, Danielle.
The whipped cream on the tart.
(Dixon moaning)
I'm cumming!
(Dixon moaning)
Punkin was still obsessed
with the social register,
and one day, she'd had a bright idea.
- I was thinking about having a ball.
I don't know, a charity ball.
Maybe then they'll accept me.
You know, if I donate the house
and a large sum of money to something.
- No, don't be ridiculous.
Mr. Crean-Smith has had
charity functions in the past.
The only people who showed
up were the servants.
- Really?
I thought rich people did that
sort of thing all the time.
- No.
Whoever put that idea into your head?
- I don't know.
I guess I picked it up in
a Theodore dreiser novel.
- Theodore who?
- Never mind.
But if charity isn't
good, what can I do then?
- Well, if it's that important to you,
why don't you have an orgy?
They don't care where they screw.
- Don't be impertinent.
- I'm not.
Just because they're rich doesn't mean
that they have class.
- Listen, I've been screwing all my life.
I thought that's what poor people did.
- Baby, rich people are the
same as you and I, only more so.
And now that you're rich,
have an orgy with all the trimmings.
Champagne, caviar, truffles.
- Do you really think anybody would come?
- They'd be fighting to get in.
I gave it a college try.
Hello, Mrs. Bennington,
this is the crean-Smith household calling.
Wait.
Wait, before you hang
up, the young mistress
is giving a party this
weekend for charity.
Mrs. Bennington?
Hello?
Hello, Mrs. Bennington?
Was there another way?
Not at this point in the film.
(Woman moaning)
Hello, Mrs. Robinson?
This is the crean-Smith household calling.
Wait, please, before you hang up,
the young mistress is giving a party
this weekend for charity.
(Woman moaning)
Hello?
Hello?
Mrs. Robinson?
(Woman moaning)
Hello, Mrs. Gibson?
This is the crean-Smith household calling.
Wait, please, before you
hang up, the young mistress
is giving a party this
weekend for charity.
Mrs. Gibson?
Punkin was a clever little girl.
She had finally found a
use for all that money.
Hello, Mrs. Gibson?
Hello?
Well, chacun a son gout.
Well, that's my poor French.
"For each to his own taste."
Me?
I'd rather be poor.
(Woman moaning)
I tried, really I did,
but nobody seemed to like
the poor girl.
Shall I dismiss the band, madame?
- Dixon, nobody came.
They didn't show up.
I knew they wouldn't.
I was just thinking about
what a wonderful party
it could have been.
(Upbeat rock'n'roll music)
.F oh, mama, can you tell me .p
.f where I went wrong .f
.f I said, mama, please tell me .p
I where I've been wrong I
.f I've been sitting .f
I by the fire I
I keeping it warm I
iand I'm singing I
I singing I
I singing this song I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I oh, baby I
I baby I
I move your body close I
I I said, baby I
I baby I
I you've been gone too long I
I I've been saying I
I I've a good mind to give you some I
I and it's yours I
I girl, take it I
I when you get home I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
(upbeat music continues)
I I said, baby I
I hey baby I
I give your daddy a call I
I oh, baby I
I baby I
I you've been gone too long I
I I've been saying I
I I've a good mind just to give you some I
I and it's yours I
I just I
I when you get home I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
- shall I dismiss the band, madame?
- Dixon, you can cut the phony
accent and get rid of them.
- Yeah, you're right.
I'm sorry, punkin.
Well, I suppose that really did it.
A hired band, the silver, the
crystal and all that food.
It was like new year's Eve at the zoo,
not a soul around.
It was bleak house revisited.
I wanted to kill all those
hypocritical bastards.
I sent the band home and there
sat punkin, still an outcast,
an orphan of opulence,
a waif of the world,
the essence of poor little rich girl.
And now, back to the present,
where punkin has finally found her tongue.
- All right, you social
leaches, get out of here.
Out, you dirty, filthy hypocrites.
I know what's wrong with you rich people.
- I'm so proud of the
young mistress I could cry.
- Let an expert finish the job.
Get out of here.
I'm not pretending anymore
to be something I'm not.
If it's my body that they
want, well, damn it to hell,
that's what they'll get.
Get out of here.
Out, you dirty, filthy hypocrites.
Get out of here.
- I was thinking of leaving anyway.
(Both speaking over each other)
- Now wait a minute, guys.
Let's stop arguing.
There's only one way to
determine who's bigger and better
and that's in my snatch.
- Punkin has finally found the answer.
If you can't beat it, join it.
(Operatic music plays)
She's so much better
than those frigid snobs.
(Man moaning)
- That's right, you little
filly, just put those lips
'round my cock.
(Man moaning)
Yes, that's it, yeah.
Slow.
A little slower.
Mmm, yeah.
(Man moaning)
Oh, that's so fine.
- I'm getting hungrier and hungrier.
- That's it, take it in deeper.
Oh, right there.
Oh, right.
- If I was going to be a
woman, I'd wanna be punkin.
(Man moaning)
- Oh, yeah.
- Come on, punkin.
- Oh, you sweet, little thing.
(Man moaning)
Okay.
All right.
- I wonder...
- That's it, take it all in.
That's it.
Faster.
Faster.
Oh, you blow my mind, honey.
- Ooh, I'm so hungry.
(Woman moaning)
- Oh, right there.
Oh, my goodness.
Take it all.
Go ahead.
(Man moaning)
Oh, yeah.
That's it.
(Man moaning)
Oh, you sweet, little thing.
- Okay, enough pie, I'm ready now.
Let's see how good you are,
if all that money has gone
to your head, so to speak.
No, no, just as before.
Excellent.
- Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Punkin.
Oh, punkin.
- I've waited through the whole picture
for you to do that again.
Ooh.
- Yeah, that's it.
- Oh, suck it harder.
- Oh, right.
- Oh, wrap your lips 'round my cock.
Oh, that's right.
Pretend I'm a Popsicle and suck it.
Ooh, roll your tongue around the tip.
In and out.
Oh, wow, this is better than eating.
Almost.
(Operatic pop music)
- Oh, right there.
Oh, right.
(Music cont.)
- I'd better study this situation.
Ah, I know just the place for me.
(Upbeat music)
- Oh, that's good.
- Oh god, I hope she
doesn't choke on that thing.
- Oh, yes.
Oh, that's it.
So good.
- Ready or not, here I come.
Right into that luscious, pink hole.
- Oh, so good.
Oh, more with the tongue.
More tongue.
Yes.
- She must be hollow inside.
- Oh, that's it.
Oh, you make my nuts so tight.
Oh, so...
Baby, that's it.
So good.
Oh, that's it.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Oh, that's it.
Suck, bitch.
Suck, take it all in your mouth.
Suck it good.
Oh, that is great.
Oh, that's it.
Oh, baby.
Squeeze my balls.
Oh, that is great.
Oh, you make me feel
like a cossack stallion.
(Man moaning)
- Wow, that's our punkin.
(Man moaning)
My god, she must have a
yard of cock inside of her.
(Upbeat music)
(Man moaning)
(Woman moaning) (Man moaning)
- That is good.
Oh, yes.
That's it.
So good.
So good.
Oh, more with the tongue.
More tongue.
- That's my girl.
I your touch is just too much I
I I love your fee! I
I I know it's real I
I you know it's fun I
I so come on baby let's come, come, come I
I come on baby I know you so I
I come on baby let's go, go, go I
I come on baby no time to try I
(man moaning)
- I'm cumming.
Ooh.
Ooh, I'm cumming.
- Oh, yes.
Oh, lord.
Oh, yes.
- Ooh. Ah.
- Oh, yes.
- I can't stop.
I'm still cumming.
What a girl.
I'm still cumming.
(Man moaning)
I'm cumming again.
(Man moaning)
Wow.
Bravo.
Long live punkin crean-Smith.
Idoittomel
I do it again I
I I don't care if it never ends I
- Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the crean-Smith household.
- They're bigger and greater
than you will ever be.
I am Peter the great, the greatest lover
in all the russias.
I am 13 inches long.
- Boy, you ain't nothing
with that cotton picking peanut you got.
- Now that is enough from the both of you,
put your things away.
I shall sculpt from memory.
(Soft keyboard music)
- I'm bigger than you are.
- I'm bigger, I got 14 inches.
- You liar, you filthy
son of a cossack's horse.
- Boys, boys, please! I
simply cannot concentrate
with this constant bickering.
Diana, did you ever hear such an argument?
- Darling, ithinkthe
only way to settle it
is to try them both out.
- In a trice, my dear, but
first, my inspiration is coming.
I must have one last curve.
- And here we have deidre and
Diana, and the two Peters,
uninvited house guests using
the crean-Smith garden.
- Something else we don't talk
about anymore is great Peter.
Back in the hills, I once
took on 20 women at one time.
- Bah, I can do better than that.
I have 30 women in Siberia
and they do not even feel the cold.
- Huh, I fucked 40 of 'em all in a row,
one right after the other.
Each one had an orgasm and I
came 40 times in 15 minutes.
- You both are utterly impossible.
Now quit showing off, I simply cannot work
under these conditions.
Oh, by the way. Diana,
darling, did you tell
the new Mrs. Crean-Smith
that we were here?
- Don't be absurd, darling.
Why bother?
- Enter our heroine.
- Who are you?
- Punkin crean-Smith.
- What's going on out here?
- Young mistress of the house.
- Who let you use this garden?
- Oh, punkin, darling this is deidre,
an old friend of Jason's.
He always let her use the house to sculpt.
The north light, you know.
We wouldn't wanna disappoint
the old gentlemen,
wherever he may be.
- I guess not.
- Well, well, well. So
this is the famous maid.
She's not half bad looking, is she, Diana?
My dear, I've always used
the garden for my work.
Jason was a patron of the arts.
There's no reason not
to continue, is there?
- I don't really know very
much about this sort of thing.
But if Jason wanted it,
don't let me interrupt.
- Poor punkin, thrown
out of her own garden.
- Well, why on earth would he
marry her, the silly old fool?
After all, he could have had
her for $25 if he just wanted
to try and get laid.
- (Indistinct), I suppose.
- Come on, let's find
out which one is bigger.
- And here am I, Dixon, the Butler.
- Dixon, I don't think I'll ever fit in.
Mrs. Carswell still
treats me like a servant.
- Alas, punkin's only friend.
- She is.
She's probably got the clap anyway.
- Deidre, you do come up
with the damnedest models.
- Yes, don't I?
Well, come along, darlings,
my breeding demands propriety,
so let's go inside.
- Now we will see which one is bigger.
(Indistinct chatter)
- Now we find out typically,
I am bigger than you.
- Boy, I keep telling you, I'm bigger.
- No, I am bigger than you.
- I don't wanna hear that.
- Well, I can't really seem to tell.
It seems that Peter the
great is a little bit longer
than the great Peter.
But his girth is so much bigger.
- Girth'?
Lady, you trying to insult me?
- Oh, darling, it's all right.
Now be a precious love and shut up.
- Okay.
- Well, I guess we shall just
have to judge empirically.
Diana, open your mouth.
- Oh, deidre, darling, I don't
think I can get it all in.
- Oh, nonsense, darling,
we're a joie de vivre,
your je ne sais quoi.
- I am bigger than you.
- I am bigger.
- Ah, careless cockmonger.
- Oh, you foreigners are all alike.
- Now, listen, boys, no fighting, please.
We shall be the judges.
(Harpsichord music)
- I tell you, I am the biggest.
There is none bigger in all the world,
in all the universe.
- You goddamn, silly ass
fool, you aint no bigger
than my old hound dog.
- I am Peter the great.
- And I, you fucker, am the
great Peter, the biggest prick
north of the Mason-Dixon line.
- Nah, you Americans always
phony, always exaggerate.
- You pinko prick, that
cock ain't got no dignity,
it's downright trash.
(Harpsichord music continues)
You call that a cock?
My momma's broom handle is better.
- Believe me, punkin, that
bitch is no better than you are.
- Dixon, has all this
food rotted your brain?
They're living in another world.
- You wanna bet?
Take a look outside and
see the other world.
(Harpsichord music)
- This is child's play.
Like I'd take candy from a baby.
You see, I won the contest.
- I'm winning, you little man.
- Punkin would never be one of them.
Her mouth was so much bigger.
So I went on finishing my pie.
- Now we will see which one is bigger.
- Ah, you foreigners are all alike,
you think you know everything.
- I am bigger and greater
than you will ever be.
I am Peter the great,
the greatest lover...
- I had to see how punkin
would handle the bitches.
Oh, this was getting
better than a soap opera.
- But Jason...
- To my surprise, she just stood
there muttering to herself,
too intimidated to speak.
I guessed she was thinking about the past
and how she had gotten
to this moment in time.
Before her marriage, she
was just poor punkin peel,
used and abused by everyone.
I remember as though it were yesterday...
When she was fired from her part-time job.
I remember...
How well I remember.
- Women these days.
Now, let's try it again.
Straight flush down over there.
Two aces and a king.
Another straight flush down here.
Aces a pair.
- Now wait a minute, let me...
Ah, oh, yes.
I get behind that.
Now you're talking.
Go ahead.
(Men talking indistinctly)
- No, no, no.
Impossible.
Impossible.
Just absolutely impossible.
When I state "give head," I mean head.
What is the matter with you?
Miss peel, your lips.
Your lips are to form an
"ooh," around the head
of the cock.
Your mouth is supposed to
stimulate the young man,
go up and down and arouse him.
Let's pretend, for the sake of the movie,
that you are not dead.
We'll try it one more time.
Now, my darlings.
- Ooh, she did what?
- Aces in the place.
- Oh, I'm out of money.
- You're out of money?
What the fuck is this?
This is a piece of shit...
- Cut. Out.
Cut. Out.
In all my years of making porno films,
I have never experienced this.
What is it you are doing, miss peel?
You are definitely not a cock sucker.
I told them not to hire a woman.
Miss peel, if you cannot do
what you are supposed to do,
and all what comes naturally to you,
then what is it that you can do?
- But what am I doing wrong?
- Shut up, miss peel.
You are not supposed to
be a construction worker
playing pocket pool.
You're supposed to be a woman.
A woman.
Do you hear me?
Your mouth is supposed to
stimulate the young man,
not emasculate him.
We'll try it one more time.
Just once.
- I don't know about you...
- Camera.
- But I don't wanna work
- with this fucking faggot.
- Sound.
- That's the worst fucking film.
- Fuck him.
You know, he's a real scumbag.
Look at us.
Look at what he's done.
Look at us.
(Both speaking over each other)
Kings and aces.
- Oh shit, man.
This ain't nothing.
I ain't got nothing in this
mother here but your face.
Is that what the rain
coat thing coming to see,
your god damn face? They coming to see
some in-and-out, pumping
and grinding shit.
Man, what you talking about, fool?
I'm coming here to do a job.
I got my camera, I got my
man standing by with film,
I got the tape recorder,
I got all this shit.
Don't you understand we is
here creating some shit, man?
I've got to see some pussy.
Now let's get it on.
Jesus, motherfucker.
Christ almighty.
- I'm sorry, Vladimir, my dear.
- Shit, y'all called me vlad.
- Oh, vlad.
Evidently, miss peel thinks we're doing
a shampoo commercial.
We are not interested in you, miss peel.
We are interested in Sandy's cock.
(Phone ringing)
- Here.
What?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Punkin, punkin.
- Hello?
Oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't realize it was so late.
But Dixon, this is my morning off.
What does he want now?
Can't you give him his hot water bottle?
All right. All right.
I'll be there as soon as I can.
In about an hour or so.
Okay?
Bye, Dixon.
Um, it was my boss.
He can't take his nap unless
I fill his hot water bottle.
I'll be there in about an hour or so.
If that's all right?
- You're quite wrong, miss peel.
You can be there now.
You are fired.
Get off my set and don't
ever try to get a job
in the porno field again.
You're washed up, or
at least you should be.
- But don't I get paid?
- Try eighth Avenue.
Get out.
Out, out, out, out, out.
Get off my set.
Out.
- So much for punkin's movie career.
- Everybody back to work.
Come on men, I'll finish the job myself.
Women's liberation?
Fooey, that stupid cow.
Sandy, love, I'll show
you how a real woman
goes about her work.
- Thanks, I'm not working
on one of those movies.
- What the hell's the matter with you?
I'm no faggot.
Hey, get me some help.
Get me some help.
I do straight films.
I'm no faggot.
What is this?
- Get over here.
Get over here.
- Right this minute.
- Not my job, man.
- Get over here.
- I'm no faggot.
- And here, we have Mr. Crean-Smith,
my boss and a dirty old man
who doesn't believe in banks.
Every morning, winter
and summer, he sits out
in that garden and counts.
They say that's what keeps him alive.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- well, here I am again, preparing crepes.
Hey, I'm not queer
or anything like that, as you'll soon see,
I just love to get my hands around
all that soft, yielding dough.
It feels just like flesh.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
- Let the old fart count
his dough, I'll make mine.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- let me tell you a little
bit more about punkin.
She started working here
about six months ago
and quickly made her way from the upstairs
to the downstairs, with
a little help from me.
I taught her everything she knew
and she serviced the whole staff.
Oh, this batter is simply divine.
Ah, here she is now.
- Boy, do I feel lousy.
- Ah, what's wrong, pussycat?
- I lost my part-time job.
- Oh, and you're late
for your full-time job.
- Oh, you won't tell Mr.
- Crean-Smith, will you?
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- I will, unless you
let me help you change
into your uniform.
- Oh, no, not that again.
- Well you don't wanna
lose your job, do ya?
- No, well...
All right.
(Dixon screams)
- Oh, burned myself again.
Damn those new pans.
Ooh, mustn't let my crepe burn.
That girl always does this to me.
I just forget where I am.
I think it's her clothes,
such quiet, good taste.
- Hey, don't you ever stop cooking?
- Never.
With a little coaxing from me,
we'll finish off those crepes with style.
- I've heard of obsessions.
Sex, drinking, religion.
But food?
Dixon, I think you're bananas.
- No, no, no, punkin.
You don't put bananas in
crepes, you use preserves.
- Have you ever gone
to a shrink about this?
- Don't be ridiculous.
As long as I have my pots, I'm content.
My stove is my altar and
my gods are Julia child
and Oscar of the Waldorf.
- Tell me, Dixon, what makes you this way?
- I dunno.
Some people collect butterflies,
some people movie posters.
Me?
I cook.
My mother was Jewish, so I guess
a little bit's in my blood.
I don't know, food makes me think of sex,
and sex makes me think of food.
Food makes me think of sex.
Well, there you are.
- Yeah, here I am.
- Well, you know what I
always say, a pan in the hand
and a girl is grand, but
a pot of bouillabaisse
is better than a raise.
- Oh, get on with it.
- Right you are, pet.
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
.f the years go by .f
.f as quickly as you blink .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
- tell me, punkin, what exactly did you do
in this part-time job?
- Come on, I'll show you.
Maybe I can do a better
job of it this time.
(Twangy guitar music)
- Oh, you're doing just fine.
In and out.
That's right.
Oh, that jelly is delicious.
You want some?
Oh, never mind.
Keep going.
Mmm.
You...
Mmm.
Poor kid, I bet you haven't had lunch yet.
Here, have a banana.
Oh, that's a good girl.
No.
Oh, no, don't bite the wrong one.
Careful.
.F enjoy yourself .f
-mmm.
.F it's later than you think .f
- ooh, good.
Mmm.
Mmm.
.F enjoy yourself .f
-mmm.
Oh, it's absolutely delicious.
.F enjoy yourself .f
-Mmm.
Mmm.
You don't mind if I eat while you work?
I knew you wouldn't.
Oh, these crepes are so fucking good.
A blow job, haute cuisine.
What more could a man ask for?
Mmm.
Oh, I'm being selfish.
Here, punkin, have a taste.
I'll put some on my cock,
sweeten it up for you.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Have a taste of my creation.
Good, huh?
Mmm.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Oh, suck it, punkin.
Suck harder.
Mmm.
Use your tongue.
Mmm.
I'm gonna cum, punkin.
Mmm.
I can't wait.
I can't wait.
Ooh.
I'm cumming!
Ooh.
Ooh, that oozing jelly.
Ooh.
I'm cumming!
Ah!
The crepes.
I've ruined the crepes.
I'm cumming!
Oh, I'm still cumming!
I'm gonna stay here with
my beautiful blintzes.
- I better see what the old man is up to.
.F as quickly as you blink .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
(man coughing)
.F enjoy yourself .f
.f it's later than you think .f
.f enjoy yourself .f
- Why, Mr. Crean-Smith, you dirty old man.
- Oh, I'm not so old.
I still have some good stuff left in me.
I know a pretty one when I see her.
Those doctors are just
a bunch of dam fools.
- Oh, they know what's best
for you, Mr. Crean-Smith.
- Oh, you call me Jason.
- Why, Mr. Crean-Smith.
- Now, look, punkin, I've had
my eye on you for a long time.
I've got a proposition to make for you.
I have no heirs.
I want you to marry me and give me a son.
- Erm, may I sit down, Jason?
- Sure.
- Ooh.
I've had a rather hard day
and I think my hearing's been affected.
- Nah, there's nothing
wrong with your hearing.
You heard me right.
I wanna marry you.
- But I'm your maid.
And in my spare time...
Well, never mind about my spare time.
- Oh, punkin, all of this
will be yours if you marry me
and give me a son.
Will you accept?
- Can you still do it?
- Can I still do it?
I get it up every time I count my money.
Will you accept?
- But what would your friends say?
- Fuck my friends.
- Do you mean that I
would live here with you?
- Right beside me.
Why, punkin, you don't have any
idea what money really buys.
When you marry me, you
become Mrs. Crean-Smith,
a great lady.
The only things that are
different between my friends
and you is their bank accounts.
And the only reason they are my friends
is because I'm richer than they are.
They're all waiting for me to die,
so they can get their inheritances.
(Jason laughing)
- Don't you have a family?
- Not a one.
My children all died
years ago, very painfully.
When I marry you, everyone will
say that you are marrying me
for my money.
- And they'll be right.
Now what do you think about
what your friends will say?
- I say they should all
disembowel themselves
on their Cadillacs.
- You know, Jason, in spite
of your money, I like you.
I accept.
- I knew you would.
- At his age, who was he trying to kid?
Well, the marriage was not
well-received by his friends.
A bride 50 years younger than the old man,
and she a servant, yet. Punkin
would never be accepted.
- Will you please hurry?
We don't have much time.
- Don't be plebian, Henry.
We have plenty of time
before that grotesquerie.
How can he do this to us?
- He's not doing it to us, darling.
He's doing it to himself.
- Well, I won't go.
- You will go, and you'll
be pleasant about it, too.
- I will not be polite to a maid.
The idea of introducing a
servant into our circles!
- Well, if she has any brains
at all, she'll stay out of it.
- Oh, Henry, how can you?
- Now, you listen to me,
Jason crean-Smith is
the richest man I know,
and I'm his lawyer, and you
will be cordial and polite.
Do you understand?
- I think it's disgraceful.
The only answer is that
Jason is finally senile.
I mean, marrying her?
Do you know that she's
been in pornography?
- Yes, I know all about her, darling.
Now will you please get out of that tub?
You've been in it for hours.
- My very first wedding.
I was so excited, I put
Rosemary in the truffles.
Rosemary is a spice, you know?
Ah, well, the sauce was delicious anyway.
The chickens were positively gorgeous.
The wine...
A sommelier's delight.
The fruit...
Ah, the fruit was
glistening and succulent.
And the cake?
The cake...
Just look at it.
Need I say more?
The delicacy, the carvings, the icing.
I had poured my soul into this marvel
of confectionary delight.
This was the essence of wedding cake.
Oh, pardon me, this is Denise,
the new downstairs maid.
Denise, I really outdid myself this time.
What a beautiful fucking cake.
I hope the old fart
eats it and drops dead.
Denise, baby, suck me off.
I need some inspiration.
I was determined that punkin's wedding
would be a gourmet
success, if nothing else.
Look at the swirls.
Are you looking at the swirls?
A double layer.
This was all for the poor, little girl
born on the wrong side of the tracks.
Maybe I could help her cross over.
- I could have married any man
I wanted the year I came out
and I had to pick you.
I should have listened to my mother,
she told me never to marry you.
- Yeah, well, I wish you
had listened to the old bag.
- How dare you?
Your family was nothing.
Without my social connections,
you wouldn't even know
the crean-smiths.
- Yeah, yeah, I know all about it.
Now you get out of that tub
and get dressed in 15 minutes,
or you're gonna go in bubbles.
- Danielle?
Danielle?
What is that?
Where have you been?
- Oh, but madam, I am preparing
your gown for the evening.
- Yeah, never mind that.
Be a love and rub my neck.
- Oh, oui, madam.
-Ah.
Oh, Denise.
Oh, look at those swirls.
Oh!
Denise, get into it.
Suck it, Denise.
Suck it.
Hard.
She doesn't talk much,
but she has obvious sterling qualities.
She was a great help to me in the kitchen.
Oh!
Oh, oh, Denise.
Scurrying and mixing
and the like.
Without her sweet assistance,
I could never have created this feast.
A little bit faster, Denise.
Oh, not too fast.
I don't wanna mess my cake.
She also polished the silver.
Can you get into those swirls?
Denise, suck me off, I
need a little inspiration.
Not too bright, but terribly cooperative.
Oh, I'm getting inspired already.
Oh, what a beautiful fucking cake.
Oh!
Ooh!
- Marrying a maid.
I don't know why such trash
is allowed to corrupt our society.
There ought to be a law.
- Oh, oui, madam.
Madame is going to be late for the party.
- Fuck the party.
- Oh, madame.
- Ooh.
Put some...
Put some icing on my cock.
Ooh.
Ah, lick it off, Denise.
Lick it off.
Oh, suck it, Denise.
Ooh.
Suck it.
Suck it a little harder.
Little...
Ooh, that's it.
Denise had lips as
succulent as a cherry tart.
Ooh, not too hard, I don't
wanna fuck up the cake.
Oh, oh, yeah, that's it.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Ooh.
Ah, Denise.
Ooh.
Oh, you feel so good.
I'd love to fuck you.
That's it, right there.
Just a little bit faster.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, that's good.
- Diana?
Diana?
- Master can wait.
- Can you please hurry up?
- I want a massage.
- Get your ass out of that tub.
- Put your hands on me
in the usual places,
the way you always do, Danielle.
- Yes, I know, madame.
- Diana, what the hell
are you doing up there?
Diana?
Hey, what the hell are you...
Oh, not again.
The debutant nymphomaniac, huh?
And you call other people names.
- Shut up.
If you were a man and could satisfy me,
I wouldn't have to resort to this.
- Well, I'm not gonna argue with you.
Danielle, finish her off
and get her dressed.
- Oui, monsieur.
- And make sure she has her orgasm,
or there'll be hell to pay.
- Do as the master says, Danielle.
Everyone has their place and
your place is serving me.
- Oui, madame.
- I don't know why some
people have the bad taste
to go where they don't belong.
I would never go to
the servant's quarters.
And I know you would
never have the bad manners
to come to my rooms unless ordered to.
- Oh, oui, madame.
- Danielle?
- Oui, madame?
- Say the things you always
say when you're massaging me.
- Oui, madame.
Madame has skin like cool, smooth, satin.
How pure and white it is.
- Don't stop.
Say some more.
Tell me about how my
breasts and my nipples feel
underyourhands.
- As you wish, madame.
Madame's breasts are round and smooth,
as white and pure as a dove's.
- Go on.
- Ah, your nipples.
They are pink and super stiff.
- Don't stop.
- Madame, I can't.
- Tell me you love me.
- But I don't, madame.
- Say it anyway.
Say it, Danielle.
Say it.
I want you to say that you love me.
- I love you.
Oh, madame, it is not right.
- It's not your place to say
what's wrong and what's right.
I tell you what to say.
You work for me, you're my
servant, and I want you to say
that you love me.
- Oui, madame.
I love you.
- Now say you wanna be
in the water with me.
In the hot water.
Your body next to mine.
Your fingers up my cunt.
My body writhing against
your thrusting fingers.
Oh, Danielle, fuck me.
Fuck me.
- Denise.
Denise, baby, get up on that chair.
Come on.
Ever so carefully, I moved the
white masterpiece to safety.
I thought the swans
holding up the second tier
was my supreme accomplishment,
my coup de grace.
I was overcome with my own genius.
Denise, put your hands up.
That's it.
That's it.
Now, spread your legs.
And now Denise was going
to experience my release.
Oh, that feels so good.
Oh, watch it, keep away from the chickens.
Thank you.
(Both moaning)
Oh, Denise, look at those chickens.
I picked 'em out myself.
(Moaning continues)
Did you ever see anything as
beautiful as those chickens?
Did you, Denise?
Don't talk to me, Denise.
Please don't talk.
(Moaning continues)
(Denise panting)
Oh, good fuck.
This fuck is as good as my cake.
(Denise panting)
(Dixon groaning)
Oh, Denise.
Oh, Denise.
Denise.
She had no idea that she was being fucked
by the chef of chefs.
The gourmet's gourmet.
The maestro of the kitchen.
(Dramatic orchestral music)
(Funky music)
(Woman moaning)
- More.
Oh, Danielle.
(Moaning continues)
- Ooh, it's good.
Ooh, so wet.
So wet.
Oh, and warm.
Ooh.
(Woman moaning)
Oh, magnifique.
(Woman moaning)
- Denise, I'm going crazy.
I wanna cum all over that cake.
Oh!
(Dixon moaning)
Oh, wait 'til the old
fart bites into my cum.
Hey, Denise?
(Denise moaning) (Dixon moaning)
Can I, Denise?
You're a better fuck than that chicken.
The second one from the right.
Denise, I'm gonna cum.
I'm gonna...
Ooh.
All over the cake.
Icing.
I'm gonna cum.
I'm cumming.
I'm cumming.
(Dixon moaning)
Ooh, all over the cake.
Ooh, it's all over the cake.
Look at that, Denise,
fresh icing! And I made it.
I made it, Denise.
I'm gonna cum on the bride and groom.
Lick some off, Denise.
Just a little bit.
No, lick a lot off.
The head.
I came! All over the cake!
It's all over the cake, Denise.
And it's white.
(Bridal march plays)
- Dearly beloved, we
are gathered here today
to join this man and this
woman in holy matrimony.
Do you, punkin peel,
take Jason crean-Smith
to love, honor and Cherish in sickness
and health until death do you part?
-I do.
- Well, there we were,
the wedding of the season.
Lush and lavish to a fault.
- Honor and Cherish in
sickness and health until death
do you part?
- Yeah.
- May I see the ring?
- Yeah, yeah.
Here you go.
- You may put the ring on her finger.
By the powers invested in
me, I now pronounce you
man and wife.
You may kiss the bride.
- Poor punkin, marrying
that senile, old hypocrite.
- Congratulations, Jason.
She's lovely.
- Yes, I think so.
She'll be a welcome addition
to our tired old coterie.
- You sly old dog.
You rogue, you.
Well, I guess that'll mean
that you're going to write up
a new will, huh?
- Yeah, you bet your legal balls I will.
- You are such a jokester.
- You're a card yourself.
- Yeah, yeah.
Look, why don't you come
by the office tomorrow
and bring punkin with you,
and we'll draw up a new will for ya.
You know what?
I just can't imagine you
getting married again.
You know? And to your maid, even.
And at your age.
Dixon, congratulate them.
- Congratulations.
- Look at that innocent face.
- Henry, why didn't Diana come?
- Ah, she suddenly came down with a virus.
All the soaking in the tub,
all that water, you know.
- Wrinkles on her belly, huh?
- Yeah, yeah.
You know, sometimes I
wonder why I married her.
Well, I hope that you and
punkin will be happier.
- Oh, punkin and I are
like two peas in a pod.
Two little cherubims perfectly
meant for each other.
- Good.
- Henry, this is the
spring time of my life.
You know, I always wondered
why you married Diana.
She seemed so remote.
So cold.
- Why doesn't Mrs. Carswell like me?
- Punkin, Mrs. Carswell
doesn't even like herself.
Say, where are the rest of the guests?
- I was...
I was wondering about that too.
Must be a mistake in the time.
Well, don't just stand there,
Dixon, open the caviar.
This isn't a funeral,
break open the champagne.
Hup, hup, hup, Dixon.
Hup, hup, hup, hup, hup.
Let's go, hop to it, Dixon.
Let's go, let's have a party.
This isn't a funeral.
- Yes, sir.
Miserable old goat.
- Very good Butler.
British extraction.
Found him living in soho
with two negroid ladies.
Ah, Dixon, go see what
happened to the other guests.
- Yes, sir.
- Here's to my beautiful bride, punkin.
- To the poor, little rich girl.
I mean...
- Oh, you just say anything you want.
I don't feel a day over 50.
- Well, I'm glad you feel that way.
- There won't be any other guests, sir.
Mr. Carswell is the only one.
- What?
What? What?
- It seems they all took ill
or got busy at the same time.
- That's outrageous.
I invited hundreds.
Look at all the silver.
Why, when I get married, I want my friends
to celebrate with me.
Oh, punkin.
Punkin.
- The house of Usher had
nothing on old crean-Smith.
Well, so much for the wedding of the year.
Elsa Maxwell he wasn't.
- What a damn mess.
I told you this wouldn't work.
I'm an idiot to think I could
have gotten away with it.
- Oh, it doesn't matter.
I don't give a damn
about those hypocrites.
Oh, now, don't cry,
punkin, you're my wife now,
and that's all that counts.
I'll fix those sons of bitches.
I've got more money than
all of 'em put together.
Why, don't I count it every day?
Ah, c'mon, punkin, don't cry.
This is our wedding night,
and from now on, everything
is going to be different.
- Even if I change, what good is it?
They'll never accept me.
They all think I married
you for your money
and that's not true anymore.
Jason, we'll only make
each other miserable.
I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry for all of this.
- Don't you worry about what they think.
I'm the one you've got to worry about.
I'm the one with all the money.
Punkin, make love to me now.
- I will, Jason.
- You know, I'm gonna...
I'm gonna need all the help I can get
if we're gonna have a child.
Punkin, I don't know where to begin.
- Just leave everything to me.
Some things just come naturally.
- I hope so.
- What do you suppose she's
doing to him up there?
- It's not any of your concern.
- It is my concern.
Because if she's doing
what I think she's doing,
we're gonna have to send all this stuff
straight to the wake.
- Dixon, you really kill me.
- Punkin, my young love.
You do make me fee! 30 years younger.
Is it all right, punkin?
- Yes.
Yes, Jason, I do want to please you.
- Jason.
-I do.
I do wanna make love to you.
- Are you okay?
Say something.
Jason.
Jason?
(Punkin screaming)
- And so, I leave my entire
estate to my beloved wife,
and $25,000 to Dixon, my devoted servant.
I hereby bequest my friend
and lawyer, Henry carswell,
to be executor of my estate
and to look after my wife
after I'm gone.
I ask him to be a friend of
punkin, as he once was to me.
To punkin, take heart, my
young wife, and try to make
a new life for yourself in
which you will be very happy.
Well, that's the will.
All that remains is punkin's
signature on a few papers.
Dixon, would you mind leaving?
And take Mrs. Carswell with you.
I'll drive the madame home.
If you need a friend, I'll be there.
Just as Jason wanted.
- Home, Dixon.
- I don't deserve your friendship, Henry.
I killed him.
It's my fault.
He died in my arms.
He would still be alive
if it wasn't for me.
- Nonsense, you didn't kill him.
Jason was an old man.
You simply gave him a little
happiness before he died.
Poor punkin, you look all worn out.
Come sit by the fire and have some Brandy.
- Henry, I don't know what
I'm going to do anymore.
I feel so alone.
It's been so long since
I've been with someone else.
- Oh, punkin.
You're not alone now.
Why don't you lie down in my lap
and let me soothe you?
You're probably tense.
It's been a long day.
Now, just relax.
Yeah.
- Henry, you always were so kind to me.
- Punkin, I know all
about you and your life.
And I think that you have
one desire, one need,
and that's just to be made love to.
- Henry, I've lost everything in my life.
Please don't hurt me now.
(Soft piano music)
(Punkin moaning)
Henry, tell me that you love me.
I know you do, I can feel it.
- Love?
I never said anything about love.
I mean...
I've got a wife.
A social position that I...
Maybe we could have an arrangement,
once or twice a week in my office.
- No.
No arrangements, I think I've
had enough of that in my life.
I wanna be loved.
I wanna be cared for.
No, never an arrangement.
- Okay.
Let's get dressed.
- This isn't really
part of punkin's story,
but I thought you might be interested
in how I spend my spare time.
Friday night, it's my obsession.
Mon dieu!
- Now that's Danielle, the
maid from the carswell mansion.
You remember?
- You must marry me.
Madame carswell is like a bitch in heat.
I cannot stay there much longer.
Oh, she's a (indistinct French).
- Danielle, where's your
passionate French soul?
- Well, it would be here with
you if you will stop throwing
carrots from the bed.
- If I married you, what kind of a kitchen
could we have together?
Think of it, Danielle,
every conceivable pot
and pan at my disposal.
Electric stove, electric mixers.
I'd have to give that all up.
- Charles, you're mad.
Do I mean nothing to you?
- Oh, of course you do, cherie.
But punkin needs me, too.
She's just learning to be
the mistress of the house.
- Oh, this new madame.
She wraps the men around
her little finger.
She was a maid, she worked for you,
and now you feel sorry for her.
I think you have a (indistinct French).
- That's what I love about you, Danielle.
Such a generous soul.
One more carrot and I'm all yours.
(Harpsichord music)
Poor little rich girl.
All alone.
Oh well, c'est la vie.
(Harpsichord music cont.)
I felt sorry for her, I really did.
Oh, fuck me, Danielle.
(Dixon moaning)
(Danielle moaning)
Doesn't it feel like a great,
white carrot, Danielle?
I feel like a pig in a blanket.
Afrank in a bun.
A chocolate in a mousse.
There's nothing more
delicious than a French pussy.
Except maybe a Napoleon.
I'm the flambe on your cherry.
Look, Danielle, I'm cumming.
I'm gonna cum.
Oh!
(Dixon moaning)
Here I cum, cherie!
Oh, Danielle.
The whipped cream on the tart.
(Dixon moaning)
I'm cumming!
(Dixon moaning)
Punkin was still obsessed
with the social register,
and one day, she'd had a bright idea.
- I was thinking about having a ball.
I don't know, a charity ball.
Maybe then they'll accept me.
You know, if I donate the house
and a large sum of money to something.
- No, don't be ridiculous.
Mr. Crean-Smith has had
charity functions in the past.
The only people who showed
up were the servants.
- Really?
I thought rich people did that
sort of thing all the time.
- No.
Whoever put that idea into your head?
- I don't know.
I guess I picked it up in
a Theodore dreiser novel.
- Theodore who?
- Never mind.
But if charity isn't
good, what can I do then?
- Well, if it's that important to you,
why don't you have an orgy?
They don't care where they screw.
- Don't be impertinent.
- I'm not.
Just because they're rich doesn't mean
that they have class.
- Listen, I've been screwing all my life.
I thought that's what poor people did.
- Baby, rich people are the
same as you and I, only more so.
And now that you're rich,
have an orgy with all the trimmings.
Champagne, caviar, truffles.
- Do you really think anybody would come?
- They'd be fighting to get in.
I gave it a college try.
Hello, Mrs. Bennington,
this is the crean-Smith household calling.
Wait.
Wait, before you hang
up, the young mistress
is giving a party this
weekend for charity.
Mrs. Bennington?
Hello?
Hello, Mrs. Bennington?
Was there another way?
Not at this point in the film.
(Woman moaning)
Hello, Mrs. Robinson?
This is the crean-Smith household calling.
Wait, please, before you hang up,
the young mistress is giving a party
this weekend for charity.
(Woman moaning)
Hello?
Hello?
Mrs. Robinson?
(Woman moaning)
Hello, Mrs. Gibson?
This is the crean-Smith household calling.
Wait, please, before you
hang up, the young mistress
is giving a party this
weekend for charity.
Mrs. Gibson?
Punkin was a clever little girl.
She had finally found a
use for all that money.
Hello, Mrs. Gibson?
Hello?
Well, chacun a son gout.
Well, that's my poor French.
"For each to his own taste."
Me?
I'd rather be poor.
(Woman moaning)
I tried, really I did,
but nobody seemed to like
the poor girl.
Shall I dismiss the band, madame?
- Dixon, nobody came.
They didn't show up.
I knew they wouldn't.
I was just thinking about
what a wonderful party
it could have been.
(Upbeat rock'n'roll music)
.F oh, mama, can you tell me .p
.f where I went wrong .f
.f I said, mama, please tell me .p
I where I've been wrong I
.f I've been sitting .f
I by the fire I
I keeping it warm I
iand I'm singing I
I singing I
I singing this song I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I oh, baby I
I baby I
I move your body close I
I I said, baby I
I baby I
I you've been gone too long I
I I've been saying I
I I've a good mind to give you some I
I and it's yours I
I girl, take it I
I when you get home I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
(upbeat music continues)
I I said, baby I
I hey baby I
I give your daddy a call I
I oh, baby I
I baby I
I you've been gone too long I
I I've been saying I
I I've a good mind just to give you some I
I and it's yours I
I just I
I when you get home I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
I give me love I
- shall I dismiss the band, madame?
- Dixon, you can cut the phony
accent and get rid of them.
- Yeah, you're right.
I'm sorry, punkin.
Well, I suppose that really did it.
A hired band, the silver, the
crystal and all that food.
It was like new year's Eve at the zoo,
not a soul around.
It was bleak house revisited.
I wanted to kill all those
hypocritical bastards.
I sent the band home and there
sat punkin, still an outcast,
an orphan of opulence,
a waif of the world,
the essence of poor little rich girl.
And now, back to the present,
where punkin has finally found her tongue.
- All right, you social
leaches, get out of here.
Out, you dirty, filthy hypocrites.
I know what's wrong with you rich people.
- I'm so proud of the
young mistress I could cry.
- Let an expert finish the job.
Get out of here.
I'm not pretending anymore
to be something I'm not.
If it's my body that they
want, well, damn it to hell,
that's what they'll get.
Get out of here.
Out, you dirty, filthy hypocrites.
Get out of here.
- I was thinking of leaving anyway.
(Both speaking over each other)
- Now wait a minute, guys.
Let's stop arguing.
There's only one way to
determine who's bigger and better
and that's in my snatch.
- Punkin has finally found the answer.
If you can't beat it, join it.
(Operatic music plays)
She's so much better
than those frigid snobs.
(Man moaning)
- That's right, you little
filly, just put those lips
'round my cock.
(Man moaning)
Yes, that's it, yeah.
Slow.
A little slower.
Mmm, yeah.
(Man moaning)
Oh, that's so fine.
- I'm getting hungrier and hungrier.
- That's it, take it in deeper.
Oh, right there.
Oh, right.
- If I was going to be a
woman, I'd wanna be punkin.
(Man moaning)
- Oh, yeah.
- Come on, punkin.
- Oh, you sweet, little thing.
(Man moaning)
Okay.
All right.
- I wonder...
- That's it, take it all in.
That's it.
Faster.
Faster.
Oh, you blow my mind, honey.
- Ooh, I'm so hungry.
(Woman moaning)
- Oh, right there.
Oh, my goodness.
Take it all.
Go ahead.
(Man moaning)
Oh, yeah.
That's it.
(Man moaning)
Oh, you sweet, little thing.
- Okay, enough pie, I'm ready now.
Let's see how good you are,
if all that money has gone
to your head, so to speak.
No, no, just as before.
Excellent.
- Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Punkin.
Oh, punkin.
- I've waited through the whole picture
for you to do that again.
Ooh.
- Yeah, that's it.
- Oh, suck it harder.
- Oh, right.
- Oh, wrap your lips 'round my cock.
Oh, that's right.
Pretend I'm a Popsicle and suck it.
Ooh, roll your tongue around the tip.
In and out.
Oh, wow, this is better than eating.
Almost.
(Operatic pop music)
- Oh, right there.
Oh, right.
(Music cont.)
- I'd better study this situation.
Ah, I know just the place for me.
(Upbeat music)
- Oh, that's good.
- Oh god, I hope she
doesn't choke on that thing.
- Oh, yes.
Oh, that's it.
So good.
- Ready or not, here I come.
Right into that luscious, pink hole.
- Oh, so good.
Oh, more with the tongue.
More tongue.
Yes.
- She must be hollow inside.
- Oh, that's it.
Oh, you make my nuts so tight.
Oh, so...
Baby, that's it.
So good.
Oh, that's it.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Oh, that's it.
Suck, bitch.
Suck, take it all in your mouth.
Suck it good.
Oh, that is great.
Oh, that's it.
Oh, baby.
Squeeze my balls.
Oh, that is great.
Oh, you make me feel
like a cossack stallion.
(Man moaning)
- Wow, that's our punkin.
(Man moaning)
My god, she must have a
yard of cock inside of her.
(Upbeat music)
(Man moaning)
(Woman moaning) (Man moaning)
- That is good.
Oh, yes.
That's it.
So good.
So good.
Oh, more with the tongue.
More tongue.
- That's my girl.
I your touch is just too much I
I I love your fee! I
I I know it's real I
I you know it's fun I
I so come on baby let's come, come, come I
I come on baby I know you so I
I come on baby let's go, go, go I
I come on baby no time to try I
(man moaning)
- I'm cumming.
Ooh.
Ooh, I'm cumming.
- Oh, yes.
Oh, lord.
Oh, yes.
- Ooh. Ah.
- Oh, yes.
- I can't stop.
I'm still cumming.
What a girl.
I'm still cumming.
(Man moaning)
I'm cumming again.
(Man moaning)
Wow.
Bravo.
Long live punkin crean-Smith.
Idoittomel
I do it again I
I I don't care if it never ends I