i was hoping you could invite me inside your home and we may have a discussion.
col hans landa of the s.s. madame, at your service. he kisses her hand, then continues without letting go of his hostess hand.
please excuse my rude intrusion on your routine.
monsieur lapadite, the rumors i have heard in the village about your family are all true. your wife is a beautiful woman. his eyes leave the mother, and move to the three daughters.
merci be coupe monsieur lapadite, but no wine. this being a dairy farm one would be safe in assuming you have milk?
then milk is what i prefer.
monsieur, to both your family, and your cows, i say; bravo.
please, join me at your table.
monsieur lapadite, what we have to discuss,' would be better discussed in private. you'll notice, i left my men outdoors- if it wouldn't offend them, could you ask your lovely ladies to step outside.
monsieur lapadite, i regret to inform you i've exhausted the extent of my french. to continue to speak it so inadequately, would only serve to embarrass me. however, i've been lead to believe you speak english quite well?
well, it just so happens, i do as well. this being your house, i ask your permission to switch to english, for the remainder of the conversation?
monsieur lapadite, while i'm very familiar with you, and your family. i have no way of knowing if you are familiar with who i am. are you aware of my existence? the farmer answers;
this is good. are you aware of the job i've been ordered to carry out in france?
please tell me what you've heard?
the fuhrer couldn't of said it better himself.
i'm aware of that, i read the report on this area. but like any enterprise, when under new management, there's always a slight duplication of efforts. most of it being a complete waste of time, but needs to be done nevertheless. i just have a few questions monsieur lapadite, if you can assist me with answers, my department can close the file on your family. taking his black leather attache case, and placing it on the table, he takes out a folder from inside. he also extracts a expensive black fountain pen from his uniform front pocket. opening the folder, and referring to it;
now before the occupation there were four jewish families in this area, all dairy farmers like yourself. the loveitts, the doleracs, the rollins, and the dreyfus's, is that correct?
please, monsieur lapadite, it is your house, make yourself comfortable. the farmer gets up from the table, goes to his shelf over the fireplace, and removes from it a wooden box that contains all the fixins to his pipe. he sits back down at the table with his nazi guest. as the farmer loads the bowel of his pipe with tobacco, sets a match to it, and begins slowly puffing, making it red hot, the s.s. colonel studies the papers in front of him.
now according to these papers, all the jewish families in this area have been accounted for - except, the dreyfusis. somewhere in the last year it would appear they have vanished. which leads me to the conclusion that they've ether made good their escape, or someone is very successfully hiding them. (looking up from his papers, across the table at the
- i love rumors! facts can be so misleading, where rumors, true or false are often reveling. so monsieur lapadite, what rumors have you heard regarding the dreyfusis? the farmerlooks at landa.
speak freely monsieur lapadite, i want to hear what the rumors are, not who told them to you. the farmer puffs thoughtfully on his pipe.
so the rumors you've heard have been of escape?
were the lapadites and the dreyfusis friendly? as the farmer answers this question, the camera lowers behind his chair, to the floor, past the floor, to a small area underneath the floorboards revealing;
having never met the dreyfusis, would you confirm for me the exact members of the household and their names?
- how old is bob?
continue.
ages of the children?
well i guess that should do it. be begins gathering up his papers, and putting them back into his ttache case. the farmer, cool as a cucumber, puffs on his pipe.
however, before i go, could i have another glass of your delicious milk?
monsieur lapadite, are you aware of the nickname the people of france have given me?
but you are aware of what they call me?
what are you aware of?
precisely! now i understand your trepidation in repeating it. before he was assassinated, heydrich apparently hated the moniker the good people of prague bestowed on him. actually why he would hate the name, "the hangman", is baffling to me it would appear he did everything in his power to earn it. but i, on the other hand, love my unofficial title, precisely because i've earned it. as "the jew hunter" enjoys his fresh milk, he continues to theorize with the french farmer.
the feature that makes me such a effective hunter of the jews, is, as opposed to most german soldiers, i can think like a jew. where they can only think like a german, or more precisely, a german soldier. now if one were to determine what attribute the german people share with a beast, it would be the cunning and predatory instinct of a hawk.
has a rat ever done anything to you to create this animosity you feel toward them?
- unless some fool is stupid enough to try and handle a live one, rats don't make it a practise of biting human beings. rats were the cause of the bubonic plague, but that was some time ago. in all your born days, has a rat ever caused you to be sick a day in your life? i purpose to you, any disease a rat could spread, a squirrel could equally carry. yet i assume you don't share the same animosity with squirrels that you do with rats, do you?
yet, they are both rodent's, are they not? and except for the fact that one has a big bushy tail, while the other has a long repugnt tail of rodent skin, they even rather look alike, don't they?
however, interesting as the thought may be, it makes not one bit of difference to how you feel. if a rat were to scamper through your door, this very minute, would you offer it a saucer of your delicious milk?
i didn't think so. you don't like them. you don't really know why you don't like them. all you know is, you find them repulsive. (let's the
the other mistake the german soldier make is their severe handling of the citizens who give shelter and aid to the jews. these citizens are not enemies of the state. they are simply confused people, trying to make some sense out of the madness war creates. these citizens do not need punishing. they simply need to be reminded of their duty in war time. let's use you as a example monsieur lapadite. in this war, you have found yourself in the middle of a conflict that has nothing to do with yourself, your lovely ladies, or your cows - yet, here you are. so monsieur lapadite, let me purpose a question. in this time of war, what is your number one duty? is it to fight the germans in the name of france to your last breath? or, is it to harass the occupying army to the best of your ability? or, is it to protect the poor unfortunate victims of warfare who can not protect themselfs? or, is your number one duty in this time of bloodshed, to protect those very beautiful women who constitute your family? the colonel lets the last statement stand.
that was a question monsieur lapadite. in this time of war, what do you consider your number one duty?
now, my job dictates, that i must have my men enter your home, and conduct a thorough search, before i can officially cross your families name off my list.
you are sheltering enemies of the state, are you not?
your sheltering them underneath your floorboards aren't you?
point out to me the area's where their hiding. the farmer points out the area's on the floor with the dreyfusis are underneath.
since i haven't heard any disturbance, i assume that while their listening, they don't speak english?
i'm going to switch back to french now, and i want you to follow my masquerade - is that clear?
monsieur lapadite, i thank you for milk, and your hospitably. i do believe our business here is done. the nazi officer opens the front door, and silently motions for his son to approach the house.
mademoiselle lapadite, i thank you for your time, we shant be bothering your family any longer. yet the lapadite women watch the nazi soldiers, machine guns at ready, approach the house. the soldiers enter the doorway, col landa, silently points out area of the floor the jews are hiding under.
so, monsieur and madame lapadite i bid you adieu. otions to the soldiers with his index finger. wy tear up the wood floor with machine gun fire. the little farm house is filled with smoke, dust, splinters, screams, 0ullet casings, and even alittle blood. with a hand motion from the colonel, the soldiers cut off their gunfire. the colonel keeps his finger in the air to indicate silence.
it's the girl. nobody moves
ae he crosses the floor, he see's the young girl running towards the cover of the woods. he unlatches the window, and opens it. shosanna to perfectly framed in the window sill.
pramed by the window, takes his lugar, and straight arm aims at the fleeing jew, cocking back the hammer with his thumb.
au revoir, shosanna! till we meet again!
herman, i sense` a question on your lips? out with it?
oh, i don't think the state is in too much danger, do you?
i'm glad you see it my way. besides, not putting a bullet in the back of a fifteen year old girl, and allowing her to escape, our not nessessarlly the same thing. she's a young girl, no food, no shelter, no shoes, who's just witnessed the massacre of her entire family. she may not survive the night. and after word spreads about what happened today, it's highly unlikely she will find any willing farmers to extend her aid. if i had to guess her fate, i'd say she'll probably be turned in by some neighbour. or, she'll be spotted by some german soldier. or, we'll find her body in the woods, dead from starvation or exposure. or, perhaps-she'll survive. she will elude capture. she will escape to america. she will move to new york city. where she will be elected, president of the united states. the s.s. colonel chuckles at his little funny.
charmed mademoiselle.
who needs pigs when you have me? big hearty laugh around the table.
well, as a matter of fact, i do -
splendid. then reich ministers companion mademoiselle mondino,
actually, in my role as security chief of this joyous german occasion, i'm afraid i must have a word with mademoiselle mimieux.
that sounded suspiciously like a private questioning the order of a colonel? or am i just being sensitive?
no need for concern, you two. as security chief, i simply need to have a chat with the possible new venue's property owner.
have you tried the strudel here?
it's not so terrible. so how is it the young private and yourself came to be acquainted? she's about to answer, when a waiter approaches.
yes, two strudels, one for myself, and one for the mademoiselle. a cup of espresso, with a container of. steamed milk, on the side. for the mademoiselle, a glass of milk. considering shosanna. grew up on a dairy farm, and the last time she was on a dairy farm, her strudel companion murdered her entire family, his ordering her milk is, to say the least.  . disconcerting. the key to col landa's power, and or charm, depending on the side ones on, lies in his ability to convince you he's privy to your secrets.
so mademoiselle, you were beginning to explain?
- mademoiselle, let me interrupt you. this is a simple formality, no reason for you to feel anxious. the colonel takes one look at it, and says to the waiter;
i apologize, i forgot to order the cream fresh.
wait for the cream. (back to
so emmanuelle, explain to me how does it happen, that a young lady such as your self, comes to own a cinema? the waiter returns, applying cream fresh to the two strudels. the s.s. colonel looks across the table at his companion, picking up his fork, he says;
after you. shosanna takes ã¬a whip creamy bite of strudel, landa follows her lead.
- what is there names?
where are they now?
pity.  . continue.
regrettable.
doing what?
is he any good?
actually one could see where that might be a good trade for them. can you operate the projectors?
knowing the reich minister as i do, i'm quite positive he wouldn't want the success or failure of his illustrious evening, dependent on the prowess of a negro. so if it comes to pass we hold this event at your venue, talented no doubt, as your negro may be, you will operate the projectors. is that exceptable? as if she has any say.
so it would appear our young hero is quite smitten with you?
mademoiselle?
that doesn't mean his feelings aren't romantic.
it's sounding more and more romantic by the minute. landa takes out a handsome looking cigarette case, with a s.s. logo on it. removing on of the fags, he lights it up with a fancy s.s. gold lighter. he offers one to shosanna.
cigarette?
do you smoke?
then i insist, you must take one. there not french, there german. i hope your not nationalist about your tobacco, to me french cigarettes are a sin against nicotine. she takes one, but makes no move to light it. he inhales deep, and says;
i did have some thing else i wanted to ask you, but right now, for the life of me, i can't remember what it is. oh well, must not of been important. col landa stands up, throws some french francs on the table, puts on his grey s.s. cap, touches his finger to his visor, saluting shosanna, and saying:
till tonight. and with that he's gone. shosanna breaths a sigh of relief. the camera begins to slowly lower from a medium cu to her feet ankles and floor. we see her shoes are in a puddle of urine. during her conversation and strudel with the man that exterminated her entire family, shosanna pissed herself. she drops the german cigarette in to the piss puddle by her feet.
but that doesnt look like this. this is odd. looking down he see's something.  .bending down, he examines fraulein von hammersmarks two pretty dress shoes lying on the floor. one shoe is covered in blood. the other, while blood speckled, is fairly clean. picking up the clean shoe, and holding it in his hand.
	84:
and each of your daughters is more lovely then the last.
negro's - gorilla's - brain - lips - smell - physical strength - penis size. but, if one were to determine what attributes the jews share with a beast, it would be that of the rat. now the fuhrer and gobbles propaganda have said pretty much the same thing. where our conclusions differ, is i don't consider the comparison a insult. consider for a moment, the world a rat lives in. it's a hostile world indeed. if a rat were to scamper through your front door right now, would you greet it with hostility?
and if there are any irregularities to be found, rest assured, they will be. that is unless, you have something to tell me that will make the conducting of a search unnecessary.
i might add also, that any information that makes the preforming of my duty easier, will not be met with punishment. actually quite the contrary, it will be met with reward. and that reward will be, your family will cease to be harassed in anyway, by the german military during the rest of our occupation of your country. the farmer, pipe in mouth, stares across the table at his german opponent.
we will be cruel to the germans, and through our cruelty, they will know who we are. they will find the evidence of our cruelty, in the disembowed, dismembered, and disfigured bodies of their brothers we leave behind us. and the german will not be able to help themselves from imagining the cruelty their brothers endured at our hands, and our boot heels, and the edge of our knives. and the germans, will be sickened by us. and the germans, will talk about us. and the germans, will fear us. and when the germans close their eyes at night, and their sub conscious tortures them for the evil they've done, it will be with thoughts of us, that it tortures them with. he stops pacing, and looks at everybody.
you want to prove their flesh and blood? then bring them to me! i will hang them naked, by their heels, from the eiffel tower! and then throw their bodies in the sewers, for the rats of paris to feast! the fuhrer sits down at the table to compose himself, and wipe his greasy black hair out of his face.
the bear jew. he hits the button on the intercom on his desk.
sgt.werner rachtman. aldo returns the salute, looking up at him.
donny!
i can imagine.
- you remember my name?
the first day. a hundred and fifty the second day. thirty-two, the third day. on the forth day, they exited the city. naturally my war story received alot of attention in germany, that's why they all recognize me. they call me the german sgt.york.
do it! do it! fuck me - fill me!
besides, to hell with the french. this is a german night, a german event, a german celebration. this night is for you, me, the german military, the high command, their family and friends. the only people who should be allowed in the room, are people who will be moved by the exploits on screen. goebbels listens silently, then after a bit of a pause;
up untill a couple of days ago, i had no knowledge of private zoller, or his exploits. to me, the private was simply just a patron of my cinema. we spoke a few times, but -
i am going to burn down the cinema on nazi night. one of his fingers probes her mouth.
and if i'm going to burn down the cinema, which i am, we both know, your not going to let me do it by myself. the back of her head presses up hard against him, as his hand both caresses, and grips her lovely neck.
because you love me. and i love you. and your the only person on this earth i can trust. she then twists around, so she's straddling him. they are now, face to face.
but that's not all we're going to do. does the filmmaking equipment it the attic still work? i know the film camera does. how about the sound recorder?
and in ten yes or no questions, you must guess who you are.  as major hellstrom finishes explaining the finer points of the game, the camera pans off him, and begins slowly zooming into stiglitz. the majors dialogue begins to fade away. untill we're in a spaghetti western flashback. which is red filtered footage of hugo being savagely whipped by somebody wearing a gestapo uniform, superimposed over his close up. the flashback disappears. it's driving stiglitz crazy, being this close to a gestapo uniform, and not plunging a knife into it. the majors voice comes back on the soundtrack.
'well, if this is it old boy, i hope you dont mind if i go out speaking the kings?
by all means, cap't. the english film critic, commando, picks up the thirty-three the nazi major bought him, and says;
and what would that be?
don't mean i like it, don't mean i like her, but she's right. now as willi said, "take this fuckin traitor, and get 'er outta my sight".
doctor? doctor?
what? what's happening? head, shocking, donny slams the 45. hard against the old man's scarring, and bringing the old gent to attention.
doctor? are you a fucking doctor? he nods his head, yes.
she's been shot. shot. bang bang.  .in leg. understand?
no no no, i don't speak english. donny jams the barrel of his 45. into the thigh of the old man.
bang bang - in the leg, understand! the old man nods his head yes.
but i'm a veterinarian . animals.  i take care of animals.  bridget screams from the table.
he's a fucking veterinarian you imbecile!
however, there's something you don't know. there's been two recent developments regarding operation kino. one, the venue has been changed from the ritz, to a much smaller venue.
i've been rethinking my position in regards to your paris premiere of "nations pride". as the weeks have gone on, and the americans are on the beach, i do find myself thinking more and more about this private zoller. this boy has done something tremendous for us. and i'm beginning to think my participation in this event could be meaningful.
yes colonel.
gentlemen, this is a old friend, col. sans landa of the s.s. the basterds know only too well who landa the jew hunter is, but they can't show it.
am i saying it correctly? .margheriti?
yes. correct.
margheriti.  say it for me once please?
i'm sorry, again?
once more.  .?
it means daisies, i believe. turning his gaze to donny.
what's your name again?
again.  .?
one more time, but let me really hear the music in it.
gorlomi. now to hirschberg.
and you? then hischberg breaks out the best italian accent of the
well, my two cameraman friends need to find there seats. col.landa stops a waiter with a tray of champagne glasses.
not so fast, lets enjoy some champagne. everyone gets a glass.
- oh, mademoiselle mimieux, please join us, i have some friends i'd like you to meet. shosanna joins the circle, and is handed a champagne glass. this is the first moment the basterds are aware of shosanna.
may i say mademoiselle, you look divine.
merci'.
this lovely young lady, is mademoiselle emmanuelle mimieux, this is her cinema, and she is our hostess for the evening.
and mademoiselle, this battered, broken, and none worse for the wear german goddess, is bridget von hammersmark.
i'm afraid my companions don't speak any french, there italian. this is antonino, enzo, and dominick. all three smile goofy spaghetti bender smiles.
actually fraulein von hammersmarks italian associates, need help finding there seats. perhaps mademoiselle mimieux would be so kind to escort them?
it would be my pleasure. let me see your tickets? donny hands her two tickets. she indicates for them to follow her. donny and hirschberg both exchange one last look with aldo, then follow the young french girl into the auditorium.
i must call the fuhrer. he doesn't want to make his entrance untill everybody seated. come with me frau von hammersmark. the fuhrer has heard your here, and he wishes to commend you personally.
me? why?
don't be modest. everybody is quite taken with your resolve. a accident, like you've just experienced, and yet you still show up to to a important party event. the fuhrer was quite adamant in his gratitude. we'll use mademoiselle mimieux's office. i'm afraid i must rob you of your companion, but only for a moment.
yes, apparently the fuhrer wishes to commend me.
wait here a moment. i promise i won't detain her long. what are ether of them suppose to do, argue? col.landa goes over to one of the nazi gaurd. usher, and whispers in his ear, gesturing toward aldo. like he's saying, leave the boy alone, till we come back.  .or is he? col.landa limps bridget away towards shosannas office. as aldo stands in the lobby, more and more people enter the auditorium, till it's only aldo and the six nazi gaurd. ushers in the now vacant lobby.
let me see your foot.
i beg your pardon?
what now colonel?
do you admit you treachery? she stares defiant daggers into him.
the only thing i will admit to, is resisting you.
sons-a-bitches.
to my last breath.
"resist to your last breath"?
what could you have possibly been thinking?
you may leave us. but stay alert outside. they exit, leaving the colonel, the lieutenant, the private and a german radio man in the corner.
well, lets just say, she got what she deserved. and when you purchase friends like bridget von hammersmark, you get what you pay for. now as far as your pisanos, sgt.donowitz, and pt.hirschberg-
but if i don't pick up that phone, right there, you may very well get all four. and if you get all four, you end the war. tonight. the nazi colonel lifts up the bottle of chianti, and fills three glasses. as he pours, he says;
o.s.s. would be my guess. aldo's eyebrows reveal that was a good guess.
i look forward to seeing you face to face as well, sir.
he's right here. the colonel hands the headphones and microphone to aldo.
what's the death toll?
47, so far.
48. general, i implore you, we must destroy that tower!
that tower is one of the oldest, and most beautiful structures in russia. i won't be responsible for turning a thousand years of history into dust! a brave russian soldier, tries to run between two buildings. zoller, gets him. then proceeds to pick him apart, one single bullet at a time.
i-a go-a toilet-a, set-ta boom-a. when-a i-a go-a, you-a set-ta boom-a. hirschberg indicates. pantomimes, he can't set his bomb surrounded by all these nazi's. donowitz, pantomimes crossing his legs, setting bomb on ankle in his seat. then getting up, and dropping it in the back of the auditorium, in the dark. hirschberg doesn't get it.
hey fritz, you owe me three cigarettes, now pay up.