The Owl and the Pussycat

Well, it's raining and I can't get a cab,

and I haven't any money anyway.

Ah, what the hell.

He's probably just some nice guy

who wants to help a girl out.

Just some rich, nice-lookin' guy

who'll give me a lift home. Yeah, that's it.

Nope, that ain't it.

Sherman!

Good evening, Mr. Rapzinsky.

What is?

Is letter.

Pick up and throw in garbage. No throw on nice floor.

I, rapzinsky, say this.

I'm sorry to have taken you away from your basement, Mr. Rapzinsky.

I know how hard you work,

keeping the building on house and garden's all time 10-best list.

Sherman!

Yes, Mr. Rapzinsky?

Still making the noise.

What noise is that?

Tick tack, tick tack.

That is the sound my typewriter makes

when I press down on the keys.

This is the method I use to produce the stories and the novels that I write.

I am a writer.

I got complaint again.

From whom?

No matter. She say you makin' the noise all night.

Don't make no more.

I, rapzinsky, say this.

Is that all?

Then I will go up to my apartment,

and you can go back downstairs and sit in your tire.

*

[Announcer chattering on radio]

Just one thing, lieutenant.

Do you think Vincent Cole did it?

Could be Cole. I don't know.

I do know--

All right, all right.

You're surrounded, Vincent.

Give up!

Mr. Rapzinsky?

Mr. Sherman.

Yes.

I think there's something you should know.

Mr. Sherman?

Mr. Sherman?

Mr. Sherman?

Mr. Sherman!

What do you want?

I have to see you, Mr. Sherman.

Who are you?

You don't know me, but it's terribly important.

Oh, please.

We make it a rule not to open the door after midnight.

We?

Wolf and I.

Wolf is a doberman pinscher.

Mr. Sherman, please. It's a matter of life and death!

Sit, wolf. Come on, boy. Sit.

Sit, wolf. Sit. Sit, wolf.

Is someone chasing you?

I can't discuss it through the door.

It's extremely personal.

Are you alone?

Yes.

Swear.

Yes, goddamn it.

Say, as god is my judge, I'm all alone.

As god is my judge,

I am a little girl all alone here in the hallway.

Hello, pansy!

You, fink--fink pansy! You, rat! You, fruitcake!

You, rat fink fruitcake!

You lied about your size!

You lied about your dog!

How do you know? He could be hiding, ready to spring at your throat.

'Cause creeps such as yourself, Mr. Sherman, don't have dogs named wolf.

Well, creeps like you have little faggy, hairy, bitty things,

with names like pooky and doodoo.

Listen, I think you must have the wrong apartment.

Don't try to cop out on me, you slimy worm!

I got the right apartment. I got the right fairy!

You're obviously suffering from some aggravated paranoid delusion.

What did you say?

I'm suggesting that you're extrapolating from your sordid and pathetic--

you know what? If I weren't so refined, I'd beat the crap out of you.

You're insane!

That's pretty good, coming from a queer,

who peeps in girls' windows.

I don't know what you're talking about!

I am talking about a dirty rat

who's so jealous of what the big boys are doin',

that he squeals to the superintendent,

just 'cause a girl is entertaining some gentleman friend.

And accepting a large tip for her services!

That's a confession, you weasel! You spied on me! You're a peeping Tom!

There's only one thing worse than a peeping Tom, and that is a squealer.

You're both, you 4-eyed fag!

Look, uh, i--i--i sense-- I sense that you're upset--

oh! What--what--what kind of weirdo are you?

You must have eyes like a vulture.

If you'd close your window shades--

I don't wanna close my window shades!

It's too damn hot in that room.

Friction, no doubt.

What's that? So, w-w-w-what is that?

Some kind of dirty joke, huh?

Friction and...

Oh, yeah. I get it.

Somethin' you probably wouldn't even know about.

I suppose all the guys you pick up are air-conditioned, eh?

Look, I'm starting to get angry.

What are you gonna do? Claw my eyes out?

I'm getting angry.

Or get one of your boyfriends to beat me up?

I'm angry. Where you goin'?

I'm calling the police.

Look, please don't do that.

There's no point in crying.

Crying does not solve anything.

Who's crying?

Why don't you just return to your apartment, get a good night's--

I don't have any apartment. That son of a bitch threw me out.

What?

That son of a bitch raspin asked--

rapzinsky.

Yeah, he threw me out. Threw you out?

In the street. In the street?

Because you were gonna call the cops.

I was gonna call-- what are you, a parrot?

Now, look, I said nothing to rapzinsky about the police.

I merely warned him that something was going on in one of his apartments...

Oh, why me? Why me?

Or is it just girls in general that you hate?

Look, could you cry someplace else?

I'm not crying!

Could you not cry someplace else?

You're getting my typewriter all wet.

Jesus, you are really creepy. The keys will rust.

Where would you like me to cry? How about Detroit?

Ok, fink. Give me 5 bucks, and I'll go find a room someplace.

Don't worry, I'll pay you back!

I don't have any money.

I was paid today, and I didn't cash my check.

That figures.

Finks never have any money.

W-W-What about the money that your, uh, your friend gave you?

Rapzinsky-- whatever his name is, he took it.

He said that if I gave him the money,

he'd cover it up with the cops.

That was a despicable thing to do.

Yeah.

What's that mean?

What does what mean?

What you just said-- "despicable."

It means he's a naturally rotten person.

That's his excuse. What's yours?

What's my what?

Why did you do it? Why did you rat on me?

Why did you complain to rapzinsky about my typing?

That's why you did it? Because of your goddamn typing?

Well, I was upset. I--i had a bad day.

You had a bad day? I lost my job, I didn't get paid,

I got thrown out of my room,

I got no place to go, I'm flat broke, it's raining,

and I'm stuck in a room with a pervert!

All right. At least you've got your health.

Oh, very funny. Boy, you're one hell of...

Uh...

Uh...

W-Wait a minute.

Uh... oh!

L-L-Let...

For god's sake, it's 3:00 in the morning!

You were watching me with these!

You're no amateur peeping Tom! You're a pro!

Are you in training for the perverts' olympic games?

Not so loud. With the naked eye,

it's just plain dirty. But with these things...