-Bonjour. -Bonjour. Yo! Rajah! Yo, Nick! The Maharajah is getting married! What? This weekend on my new private island, and I want you to come. Remember what happened last time we were on a getaway? -Yeah, some people died. -Not some. A lot of people. You think five people dying is a lot? Okay. Nick and Audrey! Have you ever seen anything like this? -A gift box! -Earrings? iPhones! -Those will get you in trouble. -Promise? -Colonel! -How handsome are you, man? I only have eye for you. Now it's time for the groom! -It's not the Maharajah. -This is a distraction. -From what? -From the escape. Help! Help! The Maharajah's been kidnapped.
-What? -And all of you are suspects. We're not gonna be invited anywhere ever again. -The real detectives have arrived. -Wow. -You must be the Spitz's. -Yes. -Your reputations precede you. -There you go. Not in a positive way, I'm afraid. -Okay. -Okay. Deliver 50 million dollars to the Arc de Triomphe in Paris or the Maharajah dies. Well, you always wanted to go to Paris. -Give us the money. -You got it. -Oh my God! -Shoot this guy! I don't wanna kill anybody! What? Oh my God! This is not what I planned! -Where'd he come from? -He's gonna walk into the flames? -He walked right in.
-He's got the case! -No! Oh my God! -God! Now I'm very confused!
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