Mouse: “How is it that with all the money you have flying around you, you can never manage to convince the court that they don’t have jurisdiction over animals?”
Scrooge: “It’s their ridiculous names. ‘Dennis’? ‘Charlee’? ‘Chaplin’? These are not proper pet names. What ever happened to ‘Spot’ and ‘Frisky’ and ‘Whiskers’? Bah humbug.”
Vermin: “HISS! I’m telling you, you’re in the wrong place! When you get served, it’s a dance-off!”
Charlee: “Why are you hiding behind this sign, Spicoli?”
Spicoli: “I’ve got warrants, dude. I don’t want the fuzz to see me.”
While the two FBI agents, Mulder and Scully, conduct their “investigation” of my adventures, I am left locked in this federal dungeon, with only a deranged rabbit for company. Meanwhile, the gophers have no doubt relocated their fabulous underground kingdom and all-you-can-eat buffet to some even more remote outpost of the underworld, all my various scientific endeavors lay idle, and I have to listen to story after highly questionable story from my cellmate.
It’s enough to drive an archeologist mad.