Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

-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.

Suppose the ship sank. Which one
would you save from drowning?

Those girls couldn't drown.
-Right in here, mademoiselle.
-Thank you.

My, it's just like a room, isn't it?
Oh, look! Round windows!
Yes, dear.
Just put that there, Frisbee.

And, Frisbee, wait for me
on the pier. Lorelei--

-Where's Dorothy?
-l don't know.

Someone whistled and she disappeared.
Will she be a bad influence?

Dorothy's not bad, honest.
She's just dumb.

Always falling for a man
just because he's good-looking.