The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Fidget: [after Olivia stomps on his toes] Ow! My foot! My only foot!
Ratigan: Oh, I love it when I'm nasty. Fidget?
[Fidget wakes up, falling to the ground]
Ratigan: Bright and alert as always. Here's the list. You know what to do and no mistakes!
Fidget: No-no-no mistakes. Tools, gears, girl, uniforms...
Ratigan: NOW, FIDGET!
Fidget: I'm going, I'm going, I'm going!
[Fidget scurries off]
Dr. Dawson: [voice over] From that time on, Basil and I were a close team. We had many cases together, but I'll always look back on that first with the most fondness; my introduction to Basil of Baker Street, the great mouse detective.
Basil: There's always a chance, Doctor, as long as one can think.
Basil: Don't worry, old fellow. It's not *entirely* hopeless.
Basil: [concerning Professor Ratigan] There's no evil scheme he wouldn't concoct! No depravity he wouldn't commit.
Olivia Flaversham: You know, Daddy, this is my very best birthday!
Hiram Flaversham: Ah, but I haven't given you your present yet.
Dr. Dawson: Well, it's time I was on my way too.
Basil: But... umm... but I thought...
Dr. Dawson: Well, the case is over, and perhaps... well perhaps it's best I found my own living quarters.
[Knock on door]
Basil: Oh, now who could that be?
[Dawson opens door; a lady mouse is standing there]
Lady Mouse: Is this the home of the famous Basil of Baker Street?
Dr. Dawson: Indeed it is, miss. You look as if you're in some kind of trouble.
Lady Mouse: Oh, I am. I am.
Dr. Dawson: Then you have come to precisely the right place.
Basil: Ah, allow me to introduce my trusted associate Dr. Dawson, with whom I do all of my cases. Isn't that right, doctor?
Dr. Dawson: Oh? Why, yes. By all means.
Basil: As you can see, Dawson, this young lady is from the Hampstead district, and is troubled about the mysterious disappearance of an emerald ring in the third finger of her right hand. Now, tell me the story, and pray, be precise.
Olivia Flaversham: Now will you please listen to me? My daddy's gone, and I'm all alone.
Basil: Young lady, this is a most inopportune time.
[Resumes playing violin]
Basil: Surely your mother knows where he is.
Olivia Flaversham: I... I don't have a mother.
Basil: [Stops playing with a screech] Well, um... then perhaps... See here! I simply have no time for lost fathers.
Olivia Flaversham: I didn't lose him. He was taken by a bat.
Basil: Did you say... bat?
Olivia Flaversham: Yes.
Basil: Did he have a crippled wing?
Olivia Flaversham: I don't know, but he had a peg leg.
Dr. Dawson: I say, do you know him?
Basil: Know him? That bat, one Fidget by name, is in the employ of the very fiend that was the target of my experiment! The horror of my every waking moment. The nefarious Professor Ratigan!
Dr. Dawson: Ratigan?
Basil: He's a genius, Dawson. A genius twisted for evil. The Napoleon of crime!
Dr. Dawson: As bad as all that, eh?
Basil: Worse! For years I've tried to capture him, and I've come close, so very close, but each time he's narrowly evaded my grasp! Not a corner of London is safe while Ratigan is at large. There's no evil scheme he wouldn't concoct. No depravity he wouldn't commit. Who knows what dastardly scheme that villian may be plotting even as we speak.
Dr. Dawson: [Voice over] It was the eve of our beloved Queen's Diamond Jubilee, and the year Her Majesty's government came to the very brink of disaster. She... But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Doctor David Q. Dawson, most recently of the Queen's 66th regiment. I had just returned to London after a lenghty service in Afghanistan, and was looking for a place to stay, preferably dry. Little did I know that my life was about to change forever.
Henchmen: [singing] Oh Ratigan, oh Ratigan / You're tops, and that's that / To Ratigan, to Ratigan...
Bartholomew: To Ratigan, the world's greatest rat! Hic!
[Ratigan does spit take; the henchmen turn in terror]
Ratigan: What was that?
Ratigan: What did you call me?
Henchmen: Oh, he didn't mean it, Professor!
Henchman #2: It... it was just a slip of the tongue.
Ratigan: I am not a rat!
Henceman #3: Course you're not.
Thug Guard: You're a mouse.
Henchman #2: Yeah, a-a big mouse.
Ratigan: I have the power!
Robot Queen: Of course you do.
Ratigan: I am supreme!
Robot Queen: Only you.
Ratigan: This is my kingdom!
Ratigan: That is, of course, with your highness' permission.
[the robot is idle; Ratigan slaps it to start it again]
Robot Queen: Most assuredly... you insidious fiend.
Robot Queen: You're not my royal consort!
Ratigan: [to crowd] Such a sense of humor.
Robot Queen: You're a cheap fraud & impostor!
Ratigan: [under his breath] Flaversham!
Basil: [operating the robot] A corrupt, vicious, demented, lowlife scoundrel. There's no evil scheme you wouldn't concoct.
[the robot goes crazy and breaks apart]
Robot Queen: No depravity you wouldn't commit. You, professor, are none other than a foul stenchus rodentus, commonly known as a...
Ratigan: Don't say it!
Basil: ...Sewer rat!
Ratigan: Fidget, you delightful little maniac! You've provided me with a singular opportunity. Poor Basil. Oh, he's in for a little surprise.
Ratigan: Ah, the uniforms! Oh, Fidget, I knew I could rely on you. Now, you didn't forget anything?
Fidget: No problem. I took care of everything. Everything on the list...
[tries to display the list but, to his amazement, the list is gone]
Ratigan: What's wrong?
Fidget: The list... but I know I...
Ratigan: Where's the list?
Fidget: The list, yeah, yeah yeah. Well, you see it was like this. I was in the toy store getting uniforms when I heard a "aroo aroo".
Ratigan: [irritated] You're not coming through.
Fidget: A dog came! I ran! I had baby bonnet, girl in bag, and Basil ch-chased me.
Ratigan: What? Basil on the case? Why, you gibbering, little... hm... hm... HMMMMM!
[restrains himself as Fidget cowers. Then suddenly calms down]
Ratigan: [chuckles] Oh, my dear Fidget. You have been hanging upside down too long.
[lovingly scooping up Fidget he walks toward Felicia's lair]
Fidget: You mean you're not mad? I'm glad you're taking it so well.
[Ratigan rings the dinner bell to summon Felicia]
Fidget: [as he's being eaten] Aaaah! Not me, you idiot! No, stop, you stupid furball! Open up! Open up! You're hurting my wings!
Ratigan: [rubbing his forehead] How dare that idiot Basil poke his stupid nose into my wonderful scheme and foul up everything?
Dr. Dawson: Scoundrel's quite gone.
Basil: But not for long, Miss Flamhammer!
Olivia Flaversham: Flaversham!
Olivia Flaversham: Goodbye, Basil.
Olivia Flaversham: I... I'll never forget you.
Basil: Nor I you, Miss... Miss Flangerhanger.
Dr. Dawson: [chuckles] Whatever.
Ratigan: Now, you will remember to smile for the camera, won't you? Say "Cheese".
Basil: Now, Toby, sit!
[Toby doesn't sit]
Basil: [sternly] Toby... sit!
Olivia Flaversham: Sit, Toby!
Basil: Good boy...
Basil: Dawson, these drinks have been... drugged!
[Dawson has drunken his mug of drugged beer]
Dr. Dawson: [drunkenly] Has a rather nice bite to it...
Basil: Ratigan, no one can have a higher opinion of you than I have, and I think you're a slimy, contemptible sewer rat!
Ratigan: [standing atop Big Ben] I've won! Ha ha ha!
Basil: On the contrary! The game's not over yet!
[clock shifts and tolls the hour]
Ratigan: [on the hour hand of Big Ben, after throwing basil off] I've won!
Basil: [handing from the severed blimp's propeller] On the contrary! the game's not over yet!
[Big Ben Strikes 10:00, shaking Ratigan off the hour hand and to his death]
Hiram Flaversham: You can do what you want with me. I won't be a part of this-this... this evil any longer!
Ratigan: Oh, very well, if that is your decision.
Ratigan: [pulls out Olivia's toy ballerina and winds it up]
Ratigan: Oh, by the way, I'm taking the liberty of having your daughter brought here.
Hiram Flaversham: O... Olivia?
Ratigan: Yes. I would spend many a sleepless night if anything unfortunate were to befall her.
Hiram Flaversham: You... Y-You wouldn't!
[Ratigan crushes the ballerina in his hand and looks forlornly at it, then at Flaversham]
Ratigan: Finish it, Flaversham!
Dr. Dawson: Dash it all, Basil! The Queen's in danger, Olivia's counting on us, we're about to be horribly "splatted" and all you can do is lie there feeling sorry for yourself. Well, I know you can save us, but if you've given up then why don't we just set it off now and be done with it?
Basil: [feebly] He he. "Set it off now." Set if off... now?
Basil: Ha ha! Yes! We'll set the trap off now!
Ratigan: Oh, my dear Bartholomew. I'm afraid that you've gone and upset me. You know what happens when someone upsets me.
Ratigan: [reading a list of newly devised laws] Item 96: A heavy tax shall be levied against all parasites and spongers, such as the elderly, the infirm, and especially little children.
Dr. Dawson: How the deuce did you know I was a doctor?
Basil: A surgeon to be exact. Just returned from military duty in Afghanistan. Am I right?
Dr. Dawson: Why, ha, ha, yes. Major David Q. Dawson. But how could you possibly...?
Basil: Quite simple, really. You've sewn your torn cuff together with a Lambert stich, which, of course, only a surgeon uses. And the thread is a unique form of cat-gut, easily distinguished by its peculiar pungency, found only in the Afghan provinces.
Dr. Dawson: Amazing!
Basil: Actually, it's elementary, my dear Dawson.
Ratigan: You don't know what a delightful dilemma it was, trying to decide on the most appropiate method for your demise. Oh, I had so many ingenious ideas I didn't know which to choose. So I decided to use them all. Marvellous, isn't it? But, here, let me show you how it works. Picture this, first, a sprightly tune I've recorded especially for you. As the song plays, the cord tightens, and when the song ends, the metal ball is released, rolling along its merry way until...
Ratigan: [points at mousetrap] Snap!
Ratigan: [points at gun] Boom!
Ratigan: [points at crossbow] Twang!
Ratigan: [points at axe] Thunk!
Ratigan: [points at anvil] Splat!
Ratigan: And so ends the short, undistinguished career of Basil of Baker Street.
[Ratigan has ridiculed Basil]
Dr. Dawson: You fiend!
Ratigan: Sorry, chubby. You should have chosen your friends more carefully.
[henchmen cheer as Ratigan reviews his illustrious career]
Ratigan: Thank you, thank you. But it hasn't all been champagne and caviar. I've had my share of adversity, thanks to that miserable, second-rate detective, Basil of Baker Street!
Ratigan: For years, that insufferable pipsqueak has interfered with my plans, and I haven't had a moment's peace of mind.
Ratigan: But all that's in the past! This time, nothing, not even Basil, can stand in my way! All will bow before me!
Basil: [enraged] Ratigan, so help me, I'll see you behind bars yet!
Ratigan: [face gets close to Basil's] You fool!
Ratigan: [grabs Basil by the collar and lifts him off of the ground]
Ratigan: Isn't it clear to you? The superior mind has triumphed! I've won!
Ratigan: [laughs evilly]
[Fidget gets tired of pedaling Ratigan's airship]
Fidget: [gesturing at Olivia] We have to lighten the load.
Ratigan: Oh, you want to lighten the load? Excellent idea.
[grabs Fidget and throws him overboard]
Fidget: No! Not me! Wait, I can't fly! I can't fly!
Basil: [pointing to a pinhole in a glass on the toy shop window] Aha! Here is our friend's entrance.
Dr. Dawson: Bu-But, Basil, how could he fit in through such a tiny...?
Basil: Observe, Doctor.
[plugs Dawson's finger on the hole; as he pulls it away, the glass slides open]
Dr. Dawson: Basil, you astound me!
Sherlock Holmes: I observe that there is a good deal of German music on the program. It is quite introspective, and I want to introspect.
Dr. Watson: But, Holmes, that music is so frightfully dull.
Ratigan: My friends, we are about to embark on the most odious, the most evil, the most diabolical scheme of my illustrious career. A crime to top all crimes, a crime that will live in infamy!
Ratigan: Tomorrow evening, our beloved monarch celebrates her Diamond Jubilee. And with the enthusiastic help of our good friend, Mr. Flaversham...
Ratigan: ...it promises to be a night she'll never forget.
[burns picture of Queen with cigarette]
Ratigan: Her last night, and my first as supreme ruler of all mousedom!
Dr. Dawson: Oh, my! Upon my word. I've never seen so many toys.
Basil: Behind any of which could lurk a blood-thirsty assassin! So, please, Doctor, be very careful.
Dr. Dawson: What-what-what did he mean an engagement at Buckingham Palace?
Basil: Haven't you figured it out yet, Doctor? The Queen's in danger and the empire is doomed.
Dr. Dawson: [Alarmed] The Queen?
Bar Maid: What'll you have?
Dr. Dawson: I'll have a dry sherry, with, oh, perhaps a twist of...
Basil: Two pints for me and my shipmate. Oh, by the way. We just got into port. We're looking for an old friend of mine. Maybe you know him. Goes by the name... of Ratigan!
[Everyone at the bar gasps and turn to Basil]
Bar Maid: I... never heard of him.
Ratigan: Oh, Felicia, my precious, my baby. Did daddy's little honey-bunny enjoy her tasty treat?
Basil: Aha, Dawson! We've found it at last. Ratigan's secret lair. And it's filthier than I imagined.
Ratigan: Bravo! Bravo! A marvelous performance! Although I was expecting you fifteen minutes earlier. Trouble with the chemistry set, old boy?
Basil: [Regarding Fidget's note] Offhand I can deduce very little, Only that the words are written with a broad-tip quill pen that has spattered, twice; that the paper is of native Mongolia manufacture, no watermark; and has
[smacks his lips against the paper]
Basil: been gummed, if I'm very much in error...
Basil: ...by a bat who has been drinking Rodent's Delight, a cheap brandy served only in the seediests pubs.
Dr. Dawson: Hmm. Amazing.
Basil: Oh, not really, doctor. We still don't know where it came from. Perhaps a closer inspection will tell us something.
[Looks at note under microscope]
Basil: Coal dust, clearly of the type used in sewer lamps.
[Takes note and sets it on fire]
Dr. Dawson: Basil!
Basil: Shh. Don't speak.
[He grinds the ashes in a crucible and pours them into a beaker]
Basil: Excuse me, Doctor.
[Takes beaker and a bottle of liquid]
Basil: Steady hand...
[pours a drop into beaker and sets it at the other end of a pipe; he boils a liquid on the other end, watching as it goes through the pipe]
Basil: Come on, come on. Good, bad, bad, good. Come on, come on, come on.
[Liquid finally reaches beaker; chemical explodes]
Basil: Aha! We've done it, old fellow! This chemical reaction could only be triggered by the paper's extreme saturation with distilation of sodium chloride.
Dr. Dawson: Salt water? Great Scott.
Basil: It proves beyond a shadow of a doubt, this note came from the riverfront area.
[Pins a map of the river on the wall]
Dr. Dawson: Now, steady on, Basil...
Basil: No, it's elementary, Dawson. We simply look for a seedy pub at the only spot...
[Pins dart on map]
Basil: ...where the sewer connects with the riverfront.