Original subtitles

I see it...

For I perceived God's light about him

Both wax and fire

Oh. Hail and well met, Jeoffry.

Have you been fighting again?

Such a bold gentleman you are.

Yes, of course.

But what am I to do

when God asks of me to translate the one true poem

that unfolds the universe?

Still, I'm glad of your companionship.

Without you, I fear the devil would have claimed me long ago.

Hello, Jeoffry.

I understand you've been giving my imps some trouble.

What do you have to say for yourself? Hm?

Back, Satan!

This is my place, mine!

Well, is anything really ours?

Come, Jeoffry. I have a proposition.

Will you walk with me?

There will be treats.

Hm.

Let's get the formalities over with, eh?

Yea, I will give you this and all the kingdoms of the Earth

if you will bow down and worship me.

No.

It is you who should bow down to Jeoffry.

Yes, I suspected as much.

You bear the sin of pride, cat.

A sin I am particularly fond of.

And you said there would be treats.

Catnip fresh from the soil,

salted ham from the market,

fish heads with the eyes still in them.

Mm. Scrumptiously poppable.

But first we must make a deal, Jeoffry.

I have need of your poet,

and I want you to stand aside and not interfere.

Oh no, no, no. He's mine. The favorite of my pets.

Now, now, Jeoffry, you must understand

that there are many claims on him.

The man is like a ruined estate overrun with creditors.

He owes the tyrant of heaven,

his family and friends,

and me for his youthful debaucheries and such.

But I would forgive my debt

- if your "pet" would but write me a poem. - Put me down!

Honestly, Jeoffry, the poems he writes for himself are, mm...

not very good.

With my guidance, he could write something magnificent.

The poem of poems.

Verse that would lay waste... ...to all of creation.

Do we have a deal, sir?

What is it?

No! No, no. Please, Lord Lucifer, spare my cat.

I'll do anything! I swear it.

Very well.

Capital, sir, capital.

Oh, sir, sir, you cannot rhyme love with dove.

It is banal. I shall not allow it.

Yeah, I like the first reference to "An Essay on Man,"

but the second makes you seem... derivative.

All critics are Satan.

But marvelous work, truly marvelous.

I've made a few suggested edits I'd like you to entertain,

but I'm very pleased with your progress.

If you could tidy these up,

I'll be back for them tomorrow night, and our business can be done.

How now, Jeoffry?

You look as though a hound has chewed you up.

Yes, well, that was no hound, but Satan himself.

How now, Jeoffry?

You look worse for wear, mate.

He fought the devil and lost, Tom.

Of course he did.

And now, Sir Jeoffry seeks the help of a true fighting cat.

It is not strength I seek, sirrah, but counsel.

Oh. Here it is.

The Nighthunter Moppet.

Hello, Mistress Polly. Hello, Master Tom.

Hello, Master Jeoffry.

- Hello, Miss Moppet. - Is that milk?

All right, come on now.

Master Jeoffry has something to say.

Attend to him, all of you.

Last night, Satan came to this madhouse.

He offered treats to lure me away

so he could coerce my poet into doing his bidding

and, in so doing, take his immortal soul

and destroy all of creation.

Oh, that is a scurvy trick.

Yes, indeed.

And so, I...

Well, I... I need your help.

This is a strange business, Jeoffry.

Very strange.

But, uh, if you want my claws, sir, they're yours for this fight.

No!

We cats are descended from the Angel Tiger

who killed the Ichneumon-rat of Egypt.

We are warriors of God,

and as such, we can wound Satan,

but we cannot kill him.

To defeat Satan, we must deny him that which he desires.

The poem.

A bloody poem? What does he want that for?

I understand what must be done.

We shall help you.

We shall fight him!

And, Jeoffry, you shall creep.

Come, come, Master Smart. Hand it over.

As the surgeon said, "'Tis better to have it all out at once."

Oi! Stand and deliver, you wanker!

Oh, please.

I've had quite enough of you damned cats.

We'll have more than your stockings, sir.

I'll have your hide, you bloody...

Language.

I won't be called a... ...by anyone, let alone...

...a flea-bitten alley cat.

Lay on then, sir!

I am the Nighthunter Moppet!

Get it off!

We are descended from angels,

and as such, we too can move in the spaces between worlds.

Stand down, vile kitten!

I am Nighthunter Moppet!

Back to hell with you, you fiend!

You cannot win.

Oppose me further, and die.

Then we choose death!

Nighthunter Moppet!

Very well.

Jeoffry!

My poem!

His soul was in that poem!

Hm?

Oh. Oh yes, so it was.

Well, I shall keep it safe.

And, uh, so much for your dominion over the Earth as well.

Now be gone, foul creature!

You have scarred literature forever,

you stupid cat!

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry

For he counteracts the powers of darkness

By his electrical skin and glaring eyes

For he counteracts the Devil

Who is death

For he can creep