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CUT TO: CAT MANSION INT
Bubbles sits stiffly in a chair, here eyes staring straight ahead. Mia is scampering around the room, trying to catch one of the plague of kittens that have free run of the place.
CUT TO Wulfgar, sitting behind a paint spattered desk. He shifts in his chair a we hear several muffled mews as the kittens in his pants shift.
WULFGAR: So how many of them did you take out, Bubbles?
Bubbles shifts uncomfortably in the small chair she is seated on.
BUBBLES: Well, sir, I, uh… That is…
Wulfgar's eyes narrow.
WULFGAR: Yes?
BUBBLES: Uh… well, see, there was this retard, and he -
WULFGAR: At weast teww me you got skiwwy.
BUBBLES: Well, sir, I uh… No.
Wulfgar stands up and two or three kittens fall out of his pantsleg. He leans across the desk and glares at Bubbles.
WULFGAR: Don't tell me they AWW got away! Don't you DARE teww me that! (He stops and takes a good look at her) What happened to your panties?! Cwose your wegs!!!
Bubbles shifts in her chair again, snapping her legs shut and looking away. In the background is Mia, who has finally caught the kitten. She rolls on the ground with it, giggling.
BUBBLES: It wasn't my fault!!! Mia -
Wulfgar slams his fist down in the desk.
WULFGAR: I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOUR WAME EXCUSES!!!
He forces himself to calm down and continues.
WULFGAR: How do you expect me to take ovew Cwankywand with those swuts stiww AWIVE???
Bubbles, terrified, begins to shake. Mia, in the background, tosses the kitten she caught into the air and kicks it into the corner. She is immediately set upon by fifty other kittens.
BUBBLES: Yes, sir, I understand that, but -
WULGAR: NO BUTS! NOW GET OFF YOUR FAT ASS AND GET THOSE BITCHES NOW OR I WIWW GWOUND YOU UP FEED YOU TO MY FEWINES!!!
BUBBLES: Yessir! Right away, sir! MIA!
She jumps to her feet and heads for the door. A bat flaps out of the boil of kittens in the background and follows her out the door.
CUT TO GMOM'S MAINSION - INT
MEB, skilly, Hairhead and the others sit around the desk as Gmom talks. Her consigliere, Coaster, stands by her desk.
GODMOTHER: Oh, Bonasera, Bonasera… What have I done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?
CUT TO skilly as she turns to MEB and gives her a questioning look.
MEB: It's all part of the process. Just sit tight.
CUT TO Retard-In-The-Theater. He's spellbound. GMOM walks over to him and leans over, talking to him.
GMOM: And if, perchance, an honest man like you made enemies, they would become MY enemies… And then they would fear you.
RITT: FIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
He leaps to his feet and begins clapping.
Gmom, pleased, returns to her desk and sits down.
GMOM: So what can I do for you, my friends?
MEB: Well, Godmother, we seem to be having a problem with Wulfgar and his shemale, Bubbles.
GMOM: Oh, Jesus. Not again. I thought we put that fat fuck down in the last Crankyland war.
MEB: Well, he's back. And that bitch Bubbles shot the SHIT out of my tool shed.
GMOM: Well, how can I help you?
VIOLET: We have to go to the mattresses, Gmom. We need guns and personnel.
GMOM: Okay. Unfortunately, Wulfgar and his crew know my people. We'll have to import some talent.
HAIRHEAD: Like who?
Gmom thinks, tapping her long nails on the desk.
GMOM: Coaster? Any suggestions?
COASTER: Well, there's a guy that's getting a pretty good rep out of Kansas… His name is Slatehead or something like that.
MEB: Slater the Exterminater?
COASTER: Yeah, that's the guy. He handled that Conquerer problem we had last month. Very clean, very professional. And I'll bring in Nick-The-Knife from Cleveland and Junkyard Kid from Columbus.
SKILLY: Nick-The-Knife? Didn't he take out white heat?
COASTER: Yeah. Made it look like a car accident.
HAIRHEAD: Thank you, Godmother.
Gmom waves her hand dismissively.
GMOM: T'ink nuttin' of it. Crankyland must be preserved. You may stay here as Coaster gathers our resources for de upcoming war. Now let's eat!
They all rise and exit the office.
CUT TO CU of a computer screen. As we watch, we hear the keyboard clicking and the words, "Listen, dickhead. If you and your army of undead robot pussies feel like taking me on, by all means jump if you feel froggy, motherfucker! This fucking place has gotten…" The phone rings and we
CUT TO a wide shot of the computer. The keyboard is tossed on the desk in front of the monitor and the phone is answered.
NTK (VO): Hello?… Yeah, this is… Hey, Coaster. Yeah. Yeah…. Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, not again! When the fuck is that fat goat choad guzzling cocksucker going to learn his fucking lesson?… Yeah, okay. I'll be there tomorrow. Have a car pick me up at the Crankyland airport.
CUT TO a gun cabinet swinging open. NTK reaches in and takes out several switchblades, guns and a copy of Funk & Wagnall's Slang Thesaurus.
WIPE TO a strip club. A hugely fat woman is shaking her flab on a stage. Beneath her, in gynecology row, sits SLATER, a sour look on his face. A half full glass of whiskey sits in front of him and the dancer kicks it over. His cell phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket, turning away from the her.
SLATER: Hello?… Yeah, this is Slater… Hey, Coaster! What's up?
Behind him, the fat dancer stops, annoyed. She taps him on the shoulder and he shrugs her off.
SLATER: Wulfgar again, huh? Okay, I -
He stops talking, listening intently. His eyes widen.
SLATER: WHO'S working for him?!… I'm on the next plane outa here!
He shuts off the cell phone and the dancer taps his shoulder again. He turns and looks at her, then looks away, disgusted.
DANCER: Where's mah dollah?! Twinkies don't grow on trees, ya know!
Slater reaches into his pocket and takes out a green piece of paper, flipping it at the dancer. She picks it up greedily and looks at it. She looks up at Slater and demands
DANCER: What is this?!
SLATER: Directions to a liposuction clinic, you cow. Start saving what little money you make shaking those sagging udders and get that ass sucked down to a size that'll fir through a doorway.
The dancer motions offscreen as Slater makes his way through the tables. He heads for the door and is cut off by a large Bouncer.
BOUNCER: You owe the lady some money, college boy.
Slater looks up at him, saying nothing. The Bouncer pokes him in the chest with his index finger.
BOUNCER: I said you owe the lady some money.
Slater grabs the Bouncer's finger and twists it, breaking it. The Bouncer yells and drops to his knees, gasping. Slater then kicks him upside the head, knocking him out. He reaches down, takes a roll of ones out of the Bouncer's pocket, and throws them at the dancer.
SLATER: Here, Godzilla. Have a couple of Grand Slam breakfasts on me.
He steps over the Bouncer and exits.
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