The Aristopups

Chapter 9

{to Le Petit Cage}

Chef: Sacre blue! Ow! Oh! He bit my finger! Get out! Go! Go! Get out! Scram!

[Jake runs outside]

Chef: Good riddance!

[Jake without tailfeathers puts his hat on, sighes and hiccups]

Everest: Why, why, it's uncle Jake!

Jake: Ahh! Everest! Callie! My two favorite nooses!

Callie: Uncle Jake. I do believe you've been drinking.

Everest: Oh dear! What happened to your lovely tail feathers?

Jake: Girls, it's outrageous! Why, you won't believe what they tried to do to your poor old uncle Jake [hic] Look. Look at his! Prime country goose a la provencal stuffed with chestnuts and basted in white whine [hic]

Chase: Basted? He's been marinated in it.

Jake: Dreadful! Being british, I would have preferred sherry.

[Three geese laugh]

Jake: Sherry! Sherry.

Callie: Oh! oh, oh, oh uncle Jake, you're just too much.

Everest: You mean he's had too much.

Callie: Everest, Everest!

Everest: Yes, yes?

Callie: We best get uncle Jake to bed.

Jake: Why, I say there, now, what's all the whis-whispering about, huh?

Callie and Everest: Shh, shh!

Jake: Now, now, now, now, girls, girls! Don't shush your old uncle Jake! Why you'll, you'll wake up the whole neighborhood!

Everest: Shh! No!

Jake: Whoopee! Neighborhood!

Everest: Come to sleep, uncle Jake

Callie: Oh, yes, I think we'd better be going.

Jake: Oh, righto, girls. Birds of a feather must [hic] together.

Everest: That's stick together.

[They waddle off, Jake singing and the other geese shushing him]

Chase: You know something? I like uncle Jake.

Skye laughs: Especially when he's marinated!

[to stables]

Rubble: Yumi, here comes Humdinger!

Yumi: Hurry, Rubble, hop aboard the motorcycle and for gooness sakes, do be careful!

[Humdinger appears with a fishing pole and in squeaky shoes]

Humdinger: Yumi, tonight operation dognapper will be completed. Wish me luck. Fisherman's luck.

Rubble: Bye, Yumi! Whoop!

[Rubble soon falls off the motorcycle to windmill and the dogs Humdinger's squeaky shoes wake up Rocky]

Rocky: Zuma! Zuma! Listen.

Zuma: Oh, shucks, Rocky. That ain't nothing byt a little old cricket bug.

Rocky: It's squeaky shoes approachin'.

Zuma: Oh, cricket bugs don't wear shoes.

Rocky: Hush your mouth. Let's see. They're oxford shoes. Size nine-and-a-half. Hole in the left sole, it sounds like.

Zuma: What color are they?

Rocky: They are black - how would I know that?

[Humdinger takes off the shoes]

Rocky: Hey, now the squeakin' has stopped.

Zuma: I still say it was a little old cricket bug.

Rocky: I'm the leader. I'll decide what it was. It was a little old cricket bug.

Zuma: I'll see ya in the morning, Rocky.

[Humdinger tries to pick his hat from Rocky, but it falls on Zuma]

Rocky: That's my hat, I'm the leader!

Zuma: Well, shoot fire. Don't get sore at me! I ain't done nothin'.

[Rocky sleeps with his paws over his hat. Humdinger scritches his side]

Rocky: Ooh, whoo, heh. Mmm. ohh. mm. ooh, oh, heh. oooh! Mm-mm.. that feels good, Zuma.

Zuma (asleep):

 that's all right.

Rocky: Mm-mm. ooh.. ooh! A little lower and faster there.

Zuma (asleep): I'm scratchin' as fast as I can.

Rocky: Right there. That's good. Oh. ooh, ooh!

[Humdinger picks the hat by teeth and hids in the hay]

Rocky sinks back: Ooh.

[Humdinger lifts the dog basket where Zuma slept in and lets him slide to Rocky]

Zuma: Mmm. It's warm and, mm-mm, cosy.

[Humdinger pulls on his umbrella and it makes the horn blow. Humdinger falls on them]

Rocky: Hey!

Zuma: Ahh!

Rocky: Wha-wha-what's goin' on? Zuma, what in tarnation you trying to do?

Zuma: Oh, I get blamed for everything.

Rocky: Wait a minute! Where's my hat? Where-- and somebody stole my bumbershoot!

Zuma: Well, where's my beddie-bye basket?

Rocky: And whoever it is, is gonna get it and get it good.

Zuma chuckles: This time I get the tender part.

Rocky: Hush your mouth, now come on.

[Zuma steps into Humdinger's shoes and walks]

Zuma: Hey, Rocky! Ooh, it's them shoes again.

Rocky: Yeah, yeah, I hear 'em.

Zuma: Rocky, I'm plumb goose-pimply scared!

Rocky: Now this is no time to turn chicken. I got a feelin' this case is gonna bust wide open.

[Zuma hits Rocky, they run and hit each other]

Zuma: D-d-d-did you see him?

Rocky: No, no, he sneaked up behind me and tailgated me.

Zuma: Well, he didn't hurt me, he hit me on the head.

Rocky: Shh! Listen! Sounds like a one-wheel-- ooh.

Zuma: A one-wheel what?

Rocky: You're not gonna believe this, but it's a one-wheeled haystack. Hey, there it goes Come on! After it!

[They jumps into hay with Humdinger and fight]

Zuma: I got him, I got him, I got him, I got him!

Rocky: Ow! That's me!Napoleon: Get him, get him, get him, get him!

[Humdinger escapes with his things]

Zuma: Well, c'est la guerre, Rocky. I guess you can't win them all.

[Rocky hits him on the head]

Zuma: Ow! Ooh, ooh, ooh! Criminiddly!