- Not Mother?
- No, Ruprecht. She's not our mother.
- Go on, Diana. You were saying.
- Well, I think that... Ow!
Ruprecht!
- May I take your trident, sir?
- Yes.
Now, Diana, as you were saying. You don't think
the poor should be allowed in museums?
- I think...
- Ruprecht.
Don't take the cork off the fork.
Why is the cork on the fork?
To prevent him hurting
himself... and others.
Ooh!
Ruprecht, eat your apple sauce.
Ruprecht, we have wonderful news.
Diana and I are going to be married...
...and we are all
going to live in Palm Beach.
Ruprecht!
- Eat your food.
- Excuse me.
- May I go to the bathroom first?
- Of course you may.
Thank you.