101 Dalmatians (One Hundred and One Dalmatians)

My story begins in London.

Not so very long ago.

And yet so much has happened since then,

that it seems more like an eternity.

At that time, I lived with my pet

in a bachelor flat just off Regent's Park.

It was a beautiful spring day,

a tedious time of the year for bachelors.

Oh. That's my pet, Roger.

Roger Radcliffe, a musician of sorts.

No. No, I'm the one with the spots.

My name's Pongo.

And you know, as far as I could see,

the old notion that a bachelor's life was so glamorous

and carefree was all nonsense.

It was downright dull.

It was plain to see that my old pet needed someone.

But if it were left up to Roger, we'd be bachelors forever.

He was married to his work. Writing songs.

Songs about romance, of all things,

something he knew absolutely nothing about.

Oh, he's intelligent enough, as humans go.

And I think you could say that Roger is a rather handsome animal in his way.

I could see no reason why my pet didn't deserve an attractive mate.

At least, I was determined to do my best.

Of course, dogs are a pretty poor judge of human beauty.

But I had a rough idea of what to look for.

Hmm. Unusual breed.

Very unusual.

Oh, surely not.

Well, now, what have we here?

Hmm.

Well, a little too short-coupled.

Nope.

I say... Oh, well I do say!

Now, there's a fancy breed.

Hmm... Perhaps a little too fancy.

Yes. That's much too fancy.

Too old.

Too young.

It was a problem. A real problem.

Well, now that's a bit more like it!

The most beautiful creature on four legs.

Oh, now, if only the girl...

Well! She's very lovely, too.

It was almost too good to be true.

I'd never find another pair like that, not if I looked for 100 years.

Ah, they're heading for the park.

A perfect meeting place, if I could only arrange it.

Uh-oh. But Roger never stopped work till after 5:00.

That would be too late.

After 5:00 already.

Fancy that.

All right, Pongo. All right, boy.

Pongo, boy, take it easy!

What's all the hurry?

Pongo, boy, slow down.

I was afraid we'd missed them. Perhaps they passed on by the park.

Then suddenly, I spotted them.

It was a perfect situation if I planned it right.

I couldn't depend on Roger. I knew what he'd do.

He'd settle on the grass, puff his pipe and that would be it.

No, it was all up to me.

Well...

At first I had no particular plan,

just anything to attract attention.

You know, stir things up a bit.

Pongo, you silly old thing! Come on.

Come on, let's have it, boy.

Pongo!

Pongo!

For a while, it seemed to work.

At least they had seen one another.

Things were going along first-rate.

But for some strange reason they left!

Come on, you old renegade. We're going home.

But I wasn't giving up.

I was determined that, somehow, they just had to meet.

- Oh! - Oh!

I beg your pardon. I'm so sorry. Please excuse me.

- I must say, what on earth! - Oh, dear!

Oh, really. Good heavens. Of all the...

- Oh! - Ah!

Oh, my new spring suit and my new hat!

I'm terribly sorry.

Please let me help you.

I'm so sorry. Pongo, you...

I don't know what's come over him.

I'm terribly sorry. He's never acted this way before.

Never mind. Never mind.

Please, just go away. You've done enough.

Please? Oh.

Oh, I say. Here, take mine.

Oh.

Wilt thou love her, comfort her,

honour and keep her in sickness and in health,

and forsaking all others,

keep thee only unto her so long as ye both shall live?

I will.

For the first six months or so,

we lived in a small house near the park,

a modest little place,

but just right for two couples who were just starting out.

Perdita, darling, are you all right?

Oh, of course, dear.

After all, dogs were having puppies long before our time.

Oh, that's Nanny, a wonderful cook and housekeeper.

She's such a kind, understanding soul.

You know,

at times she seems almost canine.

Roger, dear,

tea time.

Tea time!

Be down in a minute

Do you like my new song?

- Such clever lyrics. - Melody first, my dear.

And then the lyrics, hmm?

Oh, Pongo, it's her. It's that devil woman.

Oh, must be Cruella, your dearly devoted old school mate.

Cruella De Vil.

That's it!

Cruella De Vil

Cruella De Vil

If she doesn't scare you no evil thing will

Oh, Roger.

To see her is to take a sudden chill

Oh!

Cruella

She's like a spider waiting for the kill

Roger, she'll hear you.

Look out for Cruella De Vil

Let her in, Nanny.

- Anita, darling! - How are you?

Miserable as usual. Perfectly wretched!

Where are they? Where are they?

For heaven sakes, where are they?

- Who, Cruella? - The puppies! The puppies.

No time for games. Where are the little brutes?

It'll be at least three weeks. No rushing these things.

Anita, you're such a wit.

Here, dog, here.

Here, dog.

Cruella, isn't that a new fur coat?

My only true love, darling.

I live for furs. I worship furs!

After all, is there a woman in this wretched world who doesn't?

Oh, I'd like a nice fur, but there are many other things...

Sweet, simple Anita.

I know, I know!

This horrid little house is your dream castle.

And poor Roger is your bold and fearless Sir Galahad!

Oh, Cruella.

Then of course you have your little spotted friends.

Oh, yes.

Yes, I must say, such perfectly beautiful coats.

- Won't you have some tea? - I've got to run.

Let me know when the puppies arrive.

- You will, won't you, dear? - Yes, Cruella.

Don't forget, it's a promise. See you in three weeks. Cheerio.

Cheerio, darling.

Oh!

At first you think Cruella is a devil

But after time has worn away the shock

You come to realise

You've seen her kind of eyes

Watching you from underneath a rock

You're no help.

This vampire bat

This inhuman beast

She ought to be locked up and never released

The world was such a wholesome place until

Cruella Cruella De Vil

Roger, you are an idiot!

- Perdy? - That witch. That devil woman.

She wants our puppies. That's all she's after.

Don't worry, Perdy. They're on to her.

Nothing's going to happen to our puppies.

What does she want with them? She can't possibly love them.

Oh, Pongo.

I was so happy at first, but now I...

Oh, I...

I wish we weren't having any.

Poor Perdita. Of course, she had no choice.

The puppies arrived right on schedule,

one wild and stormy night in October.

Steady, boy.

The puppies are here!

Oh, the puppies are here!

How many?

- Eight. - Eight?

By George, Pongo! Eight puppies.

Ten.

- Eleven. - Eleven.

Eleven? Eleven puppies, Pongo, boy.

Wait a minute now, wait a minute, 13!

No, no, no. Fourteen.

- Oh, 15! - Fifteen?

And the mother's doing fine, love.

You ducky thing, you.

Fifteen puppies?