Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Gus will never let you go alone.
Sometimes Mr. Esmond finds it
very difficult to say no to me.

Well, that's very possible.
We can't check the roll
if you don't stick together.

Peters? Randall?
Sanford? Sims?

-Look at that.

Stevens? Willard J. Stevens?
-Why don't you answer--?
-l'm busy.

-Boy, oh, boy!
-Check your passport over there.

-ls this the way to Europe, France?
-To where?

-No, honey. France is in Europe.
-Who said it wasn't?

Would you say,
""North America, Mexico""?

-lf that's where l wanted to go.
-The dealer passes.

-This ship goes to Cherbourg, France.
-Thank you ever so. See?

What's the talent in the blue jackets?
A band?

That's the Olympic team.
They're sailing on this ship.

The Olympic team, for me?
Wasn't that thoughtful of somebody?

-Dibs on the shot-putter.
-Dorothy Shaw!

-Remember, you're the chaperone.
-Let's get this straight:

The chaperone sees that
nobody else has fun.

Nobody chaperones the chaperone.
That's why l'm right for this job.

Passports, please.

l thought you'd be late.
Here's your ticket.

They're at the passport desk.
You're after the blonde.

The brunette's her friend.
We don't care what she does.

-l care.
-Have fun, son.

-Come on, guys, let's get on board.
-Have a nice trip.