(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
GINGER: Come on, Rick! RICK: Coming!
(EXCLAIMS) What is wrong with you?
You nearly knocked me over.
What do you do around here anyway?
Besides break stuff all day and cause trouble?
You know, you're the reason I'm leaving for vacation.
(RICK YELLS)
(GINGER SCREAMS)
(RICK GROANS)
(SNICKERS)
Dumb cat!
GINGER: Rick, don't talk to him like that.
Poor Thomas has feelings, you know?
Just look at him.
He's being clingy because he knows we're going away.
See? He's not dumb.
RICK: Not dumb, huh?
(CHUCKLES) Allow me to present Exhibit A.
(GASPS)
I rest my case.
(DOORBELL RINGS)
(GASPS) That must be the house-sitter.
You must be Elle.
ELLE: Aw, what a cute kitty.
GINGER: Let's go, Rick, while Tom is distracted.
I hope Tom isn't too upset that we're leaving.
(PURRING)
ELLE: Gross! Get off me, you fleabag.
I'm going to have to dry-clean this outfit.
(SQUEAKING)
(ELLE CLEARS THROAT)
(ENUNCIATING) What is that?
(SQUEAKS)
Okay, cat, I don't want to hear a single peep or squeak out of you.
Or else!
Get this in your tiny brain: I'm not Ginger the Pushover.
Got it?
(LOUDLY) Got it?
You! Hold it right there.
No dogs allowed.
(SCREAMS) Out!
(STOMACH GROWLING)
If anyone can skip a meal, it's you! Out!
I said, "Out!"
(METAL CLATTERING)
Okay. That does it.
Out you go.
(HAMMERING)
There! Maybe now I can get some studying done.
(TEETH CHATTERING)
GINGER: Poor Thomas has feelings, you know? Just look at him.
(KNOCKING ON WINDOW)
ELLE: How'd you get back in here?
(ELLE SCREAMS) Mouse!
Why you little...
I'll show you!
Got you!
-(SIGHS) -(DOOR UNLOCKING)
I'm only letting you back in because I need you to catch a mouse.
Get rid of it or back out you go.
(GULPS)
Have you caught that gross little rodent yet...
...you sorry excuse for a cat?
SPIKE: This is youse twos plan to get rid of the house-sitter?
I don't get it. Where you getting all these mices?
Oh! So all of them is really one of you?
Oh, boy! Can I help too? Can I? Huh? Huh?
(TAPPING)
(SHRIEKS) Gross!
Just get rid of it, you dumb cat.
At least you're good for something.
(ELLE SCREAMS)
There's another one in the fridge.
(COUGHS)
She gone yet?
(WHIMPERS)
ELLE: (SCREAMS) Tom!
Not another one! Get it away from me!
(WHIMPERS) That's it! This house is infested.
Time to deal with this myself.
GINGER: Hurry, Rick. The call sounded urgent.
-Oh, my! -RICK: What the...
GINGER: Elle? What happened?
ELLE: What happened? (SIGHS) I quit! That's what happened!
RICK: Hey, who called you, anyway?
GINGER: Actually, I'm not sure.
Pleasure doing business with you boys.
Medium rare on that steak, little man.