Catscratch

Mr. Blick:
Look!

Waffle:
[gasps] A finger!

Waffle:
Splee!

Mr. Blick:
Hovis! My important hat!

Hovis:
And what hat would that be, sir?

Mr. Blick:
The one that lets everyone know what I am! [gives him a beanie with spinning top]

Mr. Blick:
I have an idea!

Waffle:
I have an idea, too!

Mr. Blick:
What's your idea?

Waffle:
To listen to your idea!

Mr. Blick:
Soon enough I will fulfill my dream of going to China. Land of the geisha.

Waffle:
That's Japan.

Mr. Blick:
Land of miso soup.

Waffle:
That's Japan.

Mr. Blick:
Land of cherry trees.

Waffle:
That's still Japan.

Mr. Blick:
Ah, China.

Gordon:
That trip to China is mine. Land of the samurai.

Waffle:
That's Japan.

Gordon:
Of Mount Fuji.

Waffle:
That's Japan.

Gordon:
Land of French fries.

Waffle:
That's... Canada?

Mr. Blick:
It's not always about winning, Waffle. It's about beating the other losers!

Mr. Blick:
[to Chumpy Chums, sweetly at first] Chumpy Chums, neighbors, let's see, we worked hard, played fair, and we *creamed* you! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Zinga!

[he begins to roll on the ground and pull on his tongue so that the rest of his body parts sink into his body]

Mr. Blick:
Whoa! Whoa! Where do you think you're going, dipmaster?

Waffle:
We're alive!

Barkmeat:
This isn't over! The struggle between your kind and my kind will continue on until only one is left! Evil aside, you're pretty okay. For a cat.

Giant Squid:
Gordon Quid, you have defeated me in battle. therefore, as per the rules of the sea, I am obligated to grant you one wish.

Gordon:
Mighty Kraken, I wish for a new tail!

Giant Squid:
So be it.

Gordon:
Wait! I wish for a new tail for my brother... Mr. Blik.

Mr. Blick:
Gordon, are you sure about this?

Gordon:
Take it, Blik. I realize now I don't need a big bushy tail to prove I'm a whole cat.

Mr. Blick:
I don't know what to say except... [he points to his behind] Right there, baby! Zap away! [he gets zapped and gets his tail back] Ohh, did you miss me?

Giant Squid:
You are a brave opponent, Gordon Quid. Maybe someday, we will meet again in battle. Until then, heigh-ho, Kraken! [he floats up to the sky]

Gordon:
Heigh-ho, Kraken!

Mr. Blick:
The Kraken ate my tail!

Waffle:
Hello class of '85. Today, we say goodbye to our school but we say hello to our future... makin' French Fries!

Mr. Blick:
[the two are dressed as a unicorn, and Waffle is dropping eggs] What are you doing?

Waffle:
I'm laying eggs. It's so we can find our way back!

Mr. Blick:
Unicorns don't lay eggs!

Waffle:
Oh, yeah? And how do *you* know?

Mr. Blick:
Because *I'm* in the head. It's where the brains are. Now come on!

[Mr. Blick pulls on the ship's wheel and Waffle pulls on the other end]

Waffle:
I'm not leaving without Gordon! It's my ship too!

Mr. Blick:
Well, I'm taking control of it; it's called Mutiny!

Waffle:
Well, if you can mutiny, so can I. I mutiny, mutiny!

Mr. Blick:
Then I mutiny, mutiny, mutiny!

Waffle:
Then I mutiny, mutiny, mutiny, mutiny!

[both continue to shout "mutiny" over and over]

[the race has begun and Waffle idles at the starting line]

Mr. Blick:
Go, Waffle, go!

Gordon:
Waffle!

Waffle:
Gotta be safe with my little newt buddy on board.

Mr. Blick:
Go, go go! Waffle, come on!

Gordon:
Forget the newt!

Waffle:
Safety first for my little newty newt newt.

Hovis:
I asked for toast.

Gordon:
Yes, well, a little problem with the toaster.

[Gordon screams as the toaster short-circuits and blows up part of the house]

Barkmeat:
[flames develop and a dark shadow of Barkmeat appears] Who dares enter the sanctity of my domain? Name yourself.

Waffle:
W-W-Waffle. Wh-who are you?

Barkmeat:
History has given me many names. You may call me... [Shrimpy dog arrives] Barkmeat.

Gordon:
I'm afraid the right, sweet root beer has slipped out of our tiny paws. I mean it's not like we can dress up as girls and crash the party.

Mr. Blick:
Yeah... unless, we dress up as girls and crash the party!

Waffle:
Then we can play *beauty salon makeover*! [giggles giddily]

Mr. Blick:
Gordon, bag of bees.

Gordon:
Aye, bag of bees.

[Gordon hands Mr. Blick a bag of bees, Mr. Blik shakes the bag, and sticks it on Waffle's head]

Waffle:
Hello, bees, how are you? [Bees sting Waffle, sending Waffle screaming in pain]

Waffle:
[to a statue, as Karate Cat] You have brought evil to my garden, *Garden-Eviler*!

Mr. Blick:
Well, Waffle, I hope you've learned something from all this.

Waffle:
I have, Mr. Blick. I guess I should just be myself and not who others want me to be.

Gordon:
But, laddie, no-one wanted you to be a dog.

Waffle:
Oh, well I guess I didn't learn anything then. *Splee*!

Mr. Blick:
Remember this historic moment, boys, 'cause we're going to the moon!

Waffle:
Woo-hoo! Zero-G basketball! Pop a wheelie!

Hovis:
Have fun, boys.

Mr. Blick:
Hovis, from now on, you shall refer to us as catstronauts.

Hovis:
That sounds painful.

Barkmeat:
I eat fear for breakfast. I spread fear on a bagel, with a little jam and nuts.

Gordon:
He's gone. Waffle has run off. Do you think he can survive out there all alone?

Mr. Blick:
Are you kidding? A sack of ham stands a better chance.

Gordon:
Hovis, have you ever had a strong longing for something but thought it would never come true? [behind them, Mr. Blik falls off a ladder]

Hovis:
It just did.

Hovis:
Might I suggest a better way?

Mr. Blick:
Better ways are for saps.

Mr. Blick:
[pulling on the service bell] Hovis! Someone answer the bell! Hovis! [Hovis falls on Mr. Blik from above] Hovis, where were you?

Hovis:
Fixing the bell.

Gordon:
Now what's the moral of this story?

Mr. Blick:
To get rocks from the moon so I can win the cook-off!

Waffle:
I thought it was never trust a seal lady.

Barkmeat:
What are you?

Waffle:
I'm a dog. So I guess that makes us brothers, right?

Barkmeat:
Fear is my brother, destruction my sister and pestilence my third cousin twice removed.

Waffle:
Wow, big family.

Mr. Blik:
How did this happen?

Gordon:
Well, it wasn't us, Blik. I was preparin' the food, and Waffle was making dip.

Waffle:
Right. Green cookbook, blue room.

Gordon:
Right. [pause] Laddie, I said *blue* cookbook, *green* room. Green cookbook, blue room is... *The Scottish Book of the Dead!*

Waffle:
Oh. That explains the long and mysterious incantation with sour cream.

Gordon:
[reminiscing about Mrs. Cramdilly] Do you remember when she found us, curled up with our ma in the laundry hamper?

Mrs. Cramdilly:
[in a flashback] My, look at you, so brave and proud!

Gordon:
That was the day *I* became her favorite.

Mr. Blik:
*You?* Her favorite? Hah! *I* was the favorite. It was me.

Waffle:
Nuh-uh. I was. She let me sleep on her head!

Mr. Blik:
I call my kingdom... Blikland!

Gordon:
And I call my kingdom... Gordontown!

Waffle:
And I call my kingdom... Gordontown!

Gordon:
Finished! It's the world's most beautiful lime-gelatin sculpture of a Human Kimberly ever!

Hovis:
I'm sure of that. Best two weeks of my life.

Gordon:
I'm attempting to train bacon to walk. Imagine it, Blik: a world where bacon could walk straight into your mouth.

Waffle:
Hello, Mr. Blik!

Mr. Blik:
[jumps in surprise] Waffle! Where were you? I was sopping wet.

Gordon:
And after you've finished with Blik, I need you to wash the pants I made for my bacon.

Mr. Blik:
Mission Control, set up at the park for the cookoff. The catstronauts will meet you there.

Hovis:
Oh... you're coming back?

Mr. Blik:
[to Katilda] Who are you, She-Cat? You, who fell into my arms with nary a clue. Be you angel? Princess?

Gordon:
Long-haul trucker?

Mr. Blik:
Gentlemen, get ready for action, 'cause we're going to the moon!

Waffle:
Woo-hoo! Zero-G basketball! Pop a wheelie!

Hovis:
Have fun, boys.

Mr. Blik:
Hovis, from now on, you shall refer to us as catstronauts.

Hovis:
That sounds painful.

Gordon:
Now, what's the moral of this story?

Mr. Blik:
To win the cook-off, you need... rocks from the moon!

Waffle:
I thought it was never trust a seal lady.

Mr. Blick:
Winners WIN things!

Waffle:
...I'm a winner.

Gordon:
Go Bliky! You're a champion!

Waffle:
...Of the cheaters!

Waffle:
The duck has taken Gordon's will to live.

Mr. Blik:
Nerve! That's my job.