Blech
OK, you all so didn’t warn me. I thought we were friends. Why didn’t you tell me how awful the movie “Ratatouille” is? Yes, I knew what it was about – some disease infested rodent becoming a chef. But it’s Disney, fer cryin’ out loud! Surely they could turn that into something worthwhile? And it takes place in Paris, so how can you go wrong?
I’ll tell you.
Hordes of pestilent rodents falling out of a poor old lady’s ceiling.
Swarms of disease laden rats tying up the health inspector and throwing him in the pantry, probably to later kill him and eat his liver.
A main character love child (“Mama, how come Gusteau didn’t know he had a son?”) who is bitten all over his chest by said rodents from hell. Don’t the French have socialized medicine? Yeah, good luck getting a rabies shot, monsieur.
Rats cooking. Thousands of them. Crawling all over the kitchen, the food, the pots, pans and utensils. Oh sure, they washed their hands but they are RATS. I don’t care if they were stuck in an autoclave, they are not going to be clean enough to prepare food. They weren’t even wearing hairnets.
I could go on, but let’s just say that Pumpkin Girl and I will not be eating out for a very long time.