Felidae

Francis:
[noticing Felicity's eyes] You're blind.

Felicitas:
I'm not blind. I just can't see.

Blaubart:
[to Francis] You taking over that sh*t heap in there? Interesting place. I go in there for a piss occasionally.

[laughs]

Francis:
I swear that whoever murdered Felicity is going to pay for it!, you hear me you bastard I'm going to make you pay!

Blaubart:
We'll get you shithead!

Francis:
Very impressive, have we come to the house of an art collector or a pimp?

Blaubart:
Your guess is as good as mine, I believe the can opener who owns this joint has some sort of job as a scientist or was it a parapsychologist? I don't know.

Francis:
[spotting a dead cat with her stomach and throat ripped out] Oh my God...

Kong:
Looks like he's run out of steam suddenly, that's what happens to you when you eat too much junk food.

Francis:
Yeah I'm out of breath and it looks like I'm not the only one.

[indicating the dead cat]

Kong:
What bullshit you talking now?

[gasps]

Kong:
Solitaire! Oh Solitaire! What have they done to you? What the hell has that evil bastard done? My lovely, lovely Solitaire!

[cries]

Francis:
Who was she?

Hermann 1:
Solitaire was the boss' favorite girl, and chances are those are his family you can see as well.

[pointing out the dead kitten fetuses]

Kong:
I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna hamburger him, I'll tear his balls off and stuff them down his throat, what kind of heartless bastard would do this? Who? Who? Tell me!

[to Francis]

Kong:
Was it you? No, you didn't have the time. Well then who did it? Who was it?

Cult Member:
[while looking for Francis] He was here. I can sense him.

Pascal:
[types the word "FELIDAE" on the computer] Do you know the meaning of this word, Felidae?

Francis:
Could it be a scientific name for all our family divisions, "cats" as they're usually called?

Pascal:
Felidae. Evolution has created an astounding number of various creatures. Not one however deserves the respected wonder the genus Felidae has earned. [shows on the computer a list]

Francis:
Wow! What did you combine on this list.

Pascal:
Those of us who live in the neighbourhood, name, age, gender, breed, marking. I almost forgot, I need to enter you now as well.

Francis:
Incredible!

Pascal:
Yes it is. Even better if it can help us solve a murder.

Francis:
Did you know it all of the dead brothers?

Pascal:
Yes! They were all on the prowl after some female in heat.

Francis:
I... I have an idea. Find out what breed they were. That may lead us to a new tie-up.

Pascal:
Simple enough. [shows on the computer the murdered cats' type of race] Well, none of them were partically aristocratic examples of Felidae.

Francis:
But all the same race, so they were'nt just excited and male. They were all European Shorthairs.

Francis:
Hey, Bluebeard.

Blaubart:
Yeah?

Francis:
Sounds to me like you're backtracking a little, aren't ya?

Blaubart:
You don't say... and what makes ya think so?

Francis:
Well, you told 'em I'm your friend.

Blaubart:
...ah.

Francis:
He lost his innocence, Bluebeard, as man has lost his.

Pascal:
The horror... so much pain... darkness... Francis... so much darkness... look at me now, and all you see, Francis, is evil. Yet once I was good...

Blaubart:
[slides down tunnel] Dammit. I'm getting too old for this bullshit.

Blaubart:
[spotting dead cat with his throat torn] It must've been a can opener.

Francis:
Pardon? Can opener? I'm sorry, you've lost me.

Blaubart:
It must've been a friggin' can opener. Ain't it obvious? He gave our poor little Sascha an extra ventilation hole in the throat.

Francis:
Oh, you mean a man. Did you witness it?

Blaubart:
Hell no. But only men are brutal enough to do a thing like this. Lousy can openers. The only thing they're good for is opening our dinner cans.

Blaubart:
Hey little smartass, what do they call you?

Francis:
Francis.

Blaubart:
[grunts]

Francis:
There's a plate there. Looks like this place was a doctor's office. That would explain the chemical smell.

Blaubart:
[enters the room]

Francis:
Did you come in here to take a leak? Well you don't piss in here anymore. I live here now and I have my standards.

Francis:
Let me guess. This latest victim's also a tom, just like the other 4 stiffs.

Blaubart:
Smartass. How the hell did you know that?

Francis:
It's a guess, but an educated one.

Blaubart:
Anyway this time it's tight-assed Deep Purple that's taken out his last rat. His throat looks exactly though someone decided to test an ice pick to see if it works.

Francis:
One question, was he castrated?

Blaubart:
Purple had his jewels intact, but, he couldn't get it up anymore.

Hermann 1, Hermann 2:
[to Bluebeard] Hi p*ssy cat!

Francis:
Oh boy, it was time to meet the neighborhood scumbags.

Kong:
[laughs] Bluebeard! You ugly old furball! I see you've been cruising the gay scene for a change! That cute little thing behind you is a juicy little number!

Francis:
The only thing that ties the two stiffs together is sex.

Kong:
[to Francis] And as for you cutie pie, you can bet your sweet whiskers, that you and me, just the two of us, got a date. And in the not too distant future, that you won't forget in a hurry. So, until then, sweet thing.

Felicitas:
You're new in the neighborhood.

Francis:
That's right. Francis.

Felicitas:
The death cries. They're always tomcats. You could tell that they were, excited.

Blaubart:
Let me put the ol' thinking cap on.

Francis:
Oh you do think do you?

Blaubart:
I think non-stop. Surprises you, eh? I even read a book once. [laughs]

Cult Member:
Spread out and surround him.

Pascal:
As it shows, The murderer is beginning to make mistakes we may be able to exploit.

Francis:
I hope you're right, but I find it hard to imagine that this master of horror could make mistakes.

Pascal:
Then perhaps he is sending us a message.

Blaubart:
[sprays] Bluebeard was here.

Pascal:
Can I offer you both something to eat?

Francis:
Thanks, we've eaten already, Pascal.

Blaubart:
Shut up, will you a**hole? Personally, I can handle another little mouthful or two.

Francis:
[talking about Felicity] Her eyes were wide open, as though even with her last breath the one thing she longed desperately for was to see.

Francis:
Why weren't the bodies of Sascha, Deep Purple, Solitare... Felicity, down there?

Nhozemphtekh:
[beckoning] Francis! Francis!

Nhozemphtekh:
I'm new around here, that's all you need to know. Your lady is just as she is.

Francis:
Your breed is new?

Nhozemphtekh:
Not new, no, it's old. Or in simple language, old and new. Or, different. Figure it out for yourself Francis.

Francis:
How did you know my name?

Nhozemphtekh:
A little bird in a tree told me.

Francis:
And what's your name?

Nhozemphtekh:
My name matters as little as my breed. It wouldn't anything to you.

Francis:
[angrily] F***!

Blaubart:
You smart-ass f***ing n*gger!