Cat's Cradle
- Eyes on the prize, kowalski.
Crack this new habitat control system,
and we'll be swimming in all the fish we can stomach.
- Fiiish!
- I am trying,
but this is the most advanced encryption I've ever seen.
It's got sudoku with fractions!
- Did you try the master code?
- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Nothing!
hmm. - Run it backwards.
- 5, 4, 3, 2, 1?
- Okay, now try starting at 3--
- Fiiish!
We're in.
- Way to hack that mainframe, rico.
- Skipper, look! There's a scary man.
- Well, boys, looks like they finally tracked me down.
Those danes really know how to hold a grudge.
- Oh, penguins!
- Moon cat!
- It's...Max.
And you know, i'm not really from the moon.
- Yes, but the name just works.
- Yeah, that's great. Now help me. Hide me! Save me!
- We are in your debt from the exceptional hospitality
you showed us on our lunar mission.
- Are the danes after you too?
- Huh? No, it's animal control!
They're on to me.
Do you know what those maniacs do to stray cats?
Do you?
- Me neither.
- Well, you're not going to find out tonight.
Let's roll, boys!
Well, how many enemy agents are we talking about?
Because if it's more than a baker's dozen,
we may need the jumbo brass knuckles...
And knuckles.
We're doomed; we're doomed.
- Steady.
- So doomed.
- Time to put out the cat.
Aw, jeez.
I hairballed myself.
- Just one human?
That's not combat. That's a playdate.
- Penguins... Nature's rule breakers.
Birds are supposed to fly; but no, you gotta swim instead.
You think you're above the laws of nature, punks? huh? Do you?
- Rancho cucamonga.
- Private, Kowalski, on me.
Mama make a butter biscuit, gravy, gravy, bongos.
- You're pound cake, kitty.
- Kowalski, options.
- Strategic retreat, Skipper?
- Explain.
- It's like running away but manlier. - Execute.
- Interfering with animal control business.
Just like a penguin.
- Once you hit the sewers, find an alligator named Roger
and give him this secret code phrase:
Help me. Oh, please, please, help me.
For the sweet love of mother mercy,
please help me escape the animal control officer
who's chasing me.
He'll know what it means.
- You birds are the best.
- Stay solid, compadre.
Well done, men. Mission accompl--
- What in the name of candied yams?
- Booby traps...everywhere!
- Sweet science of boxing.
He's sealed off the tight perimeter.
The man knows his technique.
- We gotta run!
- Escape is no longer an option, my feline friend.
We'll have to hide you in the zoo
until johnny law cools his heels.
- Anything you say.
My nine lives are in your hands.
Hoo, boy. There's...
Not much, uh, fresh air in here, huh?
- Try to conserve oxygen by shutting down
any unnecessary brain functions.
- Rico, show him how it's done.
Just keep it down, and everything will be okay.
Midnight bounce party.
Ain't no bouncy like the midnight bouncy,
'cause the midnight bouncy don't...
Hey, the royal bouncy is very screaming tonight.
I must bounce with extra violence
to release the trapped spirits.
- Maurice, bring the spirit plunger.
We've got a clogger.
- But why are we doing this again?
- We're leaving your scent in this habitat as bait.
Mr. Animal control comes in,
joey, the foul-tempered kangaroo, takes him out.
- Okay.
Pure kitty. No buts about it.
- Mm, I fell too far behind.
They must've shaken my tail, taken the rear exit,
cut around the back side.
- This ends here.
- What's wrong with Private? I haven't seen him like this
since our mission to butztown, PA.
You, ratbag!
Joey don't like trespassers in his bizzo, mate.
You're not hearing, then?
Joey's gonna have to teach you to listen, eh?
- You think he'd teach me that move?
- Update me, chimp.
- Ugh, he simply isn't human.
No man can take that much poo without dropping.
- What are we gonna do?
I ain't never been in a pound before.
- Maybe it's not so bad.
- You never know until you visit.
- I'm out of ideas, Skipper.
He's tracked us through every hiding place in the zoo.
Phil asks if you've tried the red rhodesian slasher exhibit.
- There's no red rhodesian slasher on the charts.
- Felinas infernis, an ultra-rare, incredibly vicious wildcat.
The habitat is ready, but the beast itself has yet to arrive.
It could be an ideal hiding spot.
- Red wildcat, eh?
May be more right than you know, primates.
- Skipper? - Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight.
All right, moon cat.
Now let's see how good your "vicious" is.
- Growl. Snarl. I'm hissing here.
- Oh, trail's gone cold.
- Yes!
Hey, pokey, you choke-ied you really failed your duty
you're never gonna touch my little kitty kabooty
- he's blown his own cover.
- Hello, kitty.
- Why didn't anybody tell me you'd arrived?
- Step back, ma'am. Officer X, animal control.
- Let's see how this plays out.
- X? Is that the name your mommy gave you?
- Mother never told me my real name.
Said it was classified.
Now turn over the stray cat, or face the full powers
of the metropolitan sub-bureau of animal control
and pretzel cart regulation.
- Stray cat? Ha, this is the male rhodesian slasher
we've been waiting weeks for.
- But... - Oh, my.
That female slasher's going to be happy to see you.
They get so cranky when they're lonely.
- I'm gonna... what?
- Female? Cranky?
- Still playing out.
- That feline is a known fugitive and a menace to...
- In you go to the kitty love nest.
- Oh, boy.
Isn't nature magical?
- You know what, ma'am? It is.
I think I'll just sit here and wait
in case nature decides to make a break for it.
- Whatever floats your boat, weirdo.
Please, please.
- Okay, well, this may have played out a little too much.
You gotta get me outta here. This kitten's nuts.
- Apparently the rhodesian slasher has a painfully intense,
very elaborate courtship ritual.
But the good news is, most fatalities don't occur until the fifth week.
- I can't take five weeks of this!
What am I gonna do?
- Time for a kitty jailbreak.
Private, execute a foamy lips subterfuge...mark seven.
I am the rabies.
- Oh-ho, rabid chihuahua,
the greatest animal control threat known to man.
I like diseases.
- What the...
- And here we go. This is for all the marbles, boys.
Gotcha.
Myfelinas infernis, they've escaped!
They?
Take good care of my lady, 'kay, big guy?
Good-bye now.
Paint?
- Oh, poo.
- Nice stripe work, Rico.
You got the brushstroke of a renaissance master.
- I can't thank you birds enough.
- Consider it a debt repaid, old friend.
Enjoy your freedom.
- Sure thing. But, uh...
Isn't the whole outside wall still wired
with sergeant psycho's booby traps?
- We've got a man on it.
- I'm expendable!