All language subtitles for Isle.of.Dogs.2018.720p.BluRay.x264-DRONES

Ten centuries ago,
before the Age of Obedience,

free dogs roamed at liberty,
marking their territory.

Seeking to extend its dominion,

the cat-loving Kobayashi Dynasty declared war

and descended in force
upon the unwary four-legged beasts.

On the eve of total canine annihilation,

a child warrior sympathetic to the plight

of the besieged underdog dogs
betrayed his species,

beheaded the head of the head
of the Kobayashi clan

and pledged his sword
with the following battle-cry haiku.

He would later be known
as the Boy Samurai of Legend, RIP.

At the end of the bloody dog wars,

the vanquished mongrels
became powerless house-pets:

tamed, mastered, scorned.

But they survived and multiplied.

The Kobayashis, however,

never forgave their conquered foe.

The Japanese archipelago,
20 years in the future.

Canine Saturation has reached
epidemic proportions.

An outbreak of Snout-fever
rips through the City of Megasaki.

Blizzards of infected fleas, worms,
ticks and lice menace the citizenship.

Dog-Flu threatens to cross
the species threshold

and enter the human disease-pool.

In a special midnight-session
at the Municipal Dome,

Mayor Kobayashi of Uni Prefecture
issues emergency orders

calling for a hasty quarantine:

the expulsion and containment of all
breeds, both stray and domesticated.

By official decree,
Trash Island becomes an exile colony.

The Isle of Dogs.

Respect-o.

It's not fair to the dogs.

The path favored by Mayor Kobayashi
is cruel and unscientific.

For a thousand years,
these resilient animals have loved,

served and protected us.

Now, in their time of greatest need,
we forsake them again?

A tidal-wave of Anti-Dog hysteria
has crippled our moral judgment.

Give me six months,
and I will deliver a serum.

I'm this close, dammit.

Dog-Flu will be eradicated.
Snout-fever will be defeated.

Canine Saturation will be returned
to sustainable levels

and without mass-neutering!

Whatever happened to man's best friend?

No, no, no!

The crowd is calling
for the immediate ratification

and approval of the mayor's proposal.

As a gesture of public solidarity,
Mayor Kobayashi is calling upon

his Assistant Hatchet-Man, Major-Domo,
to furnish the personal bodyguard-dog

of the mayoral-household, Spots Kobayashi,

into the possession of the Committee
for Canine Desaturation.

Spots will be the first dog to be
officially deported from the city.

Six months later.

Nomadic packs of once-domesticated
house-pets, sick and hungry,

rove the garbage canyons and filthy
ravines, scrounging for scraps.

One hundred per cent test positive
for the Dog-Flu germ.

Symptoms: weight-loss, dizziness,

narcolepsy, insomnia,
and extreme/aggressive behavior.

Three-quarters display signs
of early-onset Snout-fever:

high-temperature, low blood-pressure,

acute moodiness
and spasmodic nasal expiration.

The exiled dog-population
grows weaker, sadder, angrier.

Desperate.

Hey, wait a second.

Before we attack each other and tear
ourselves to shreds like a pack of maniacs,

let's just open the sack first
and see what's actually in it.

It might not even be worth the trouble.

- What do you say?
- I'm not sure.

Maybe.

Alright.

A rancid apple core;
two worm-eaten banana peels;

a moldy rice cake; a dried-up pickle;

tin of sardine bones;
a pile of broken egg-shells;

an old, smushed-up, rotten gizzard
with maggots all over it...

Okay, it's worth it.

Get out of here and don't come back.

Sheesh, Igor. I think he chewed your ear off.

Hmm... Hmm.

I don't think I can stomach
any more of this garbage.

- Same here.
- Words out of my mouth.

I used to sleep on a lamb's-wool bean-bag
next to an electric space-heater.

That's my territory. I'm an indoor dog.

I starred in 22 consecutive
Doggy Chop commercials.

Look at me now. I couldn't land an audition.

I was the lead mascot for an undefeated
high-school baseball team.

I lost all my spirit. I'm depressing.

I only ask for what I've always had:
a balanced diet, regular grooming,

and a general physical once a year.

I think I might give up.

- What, right now?
- Right now.

There's no future on Trash Island.

You heard the rumor, right? About Buster.

- Not sure.
- Can you remind me?

Who's Buster?

Uh, my brother from another litter.

- What happened to him?
- Suicided.

Hanged himself by his own leash.

- Hmm.
- Oh, boy.

I want my master.

Ah...

You make me sick.

I've seen cats with more balls than you dogs.

Stop licking your wounds!

You hungry? Kill something and eat it.

You sick? Take a long nap.

You cold? Dig a hole in the ground,
crawl into it, and bury yourself.

But nobody's giving up around here,
and don't you forget it, ever.

You're Rex!

You're King!

You're Duke!

You're Boss!

I'm Chief.

We're a pack of scary,
indestructible Alpha Dogs.

You're talking like a bunch
of house-broken... pets.

You don't understand.
Uh, how could you? You're a...

Go ahead, say it. I'm a stray, yeah.

How does she keep her fur so clean?

There's no shampoo on Trash Island.

You heard the rumor, right?
About her and Felix.

- What'd they say?
- Felix? No.

- What happened to them?
- They mated.

Ooh.

Who is Felix again?

All the ones I like: they're never in heat.

Hey, now, that puddle-jumper's
flying crooked.

- Oh, you're right.
- Ease up.

- Pull up.
- He's gonna lose a wing.

Wow.

Part One: "The Little Pilot."

Small guy. Not much meat on him.

Yeah, is he dead?

- He looks dead.
- I have a question.

Are we eating him, or is this a rescue?

We don't know yet.

Nobody's eating The Little Pilot.

Not even the dead body of him.
Dogs don't eat masters.

You're not our leader.
We all are. Let's take a vote.

All in favor of not eating
The Little Pilot, say "Aye".

- Aye.
- Nay.

First-things-first: let's open his helmet
so he can breathe some air if he's alive,

then see if we can pull that
hunk of broken propeller-clutch

out of the side of his head
if it doesn't kill him.

- Does that sound right?
- Yeah, that's right.

Mmm-hmm.

Spots-u! Spots-u! Spots-u!

We get the idea.

You're looking for your lost dog, Spots.

- Does anybody know him?
- Hmm. No.

Uh-uh.

Wow.

In response to questions regarding
the purported disappearance

of his ward Atari,
Mayor Kobayashi offers no comment

and urges reporters to respect
the privacy of the mayoral-household.

Atari, aged 12, was last seen
early yesterday morning

rolling a small airplane onto a runway
at Megasaki Executive Airport.

24 hours later.

I bite.

I beg your pardon. Ignore that dog.

He's got Snout-fever.

Just please follow us.

Now, I never met him, but I asked around.

I understand he made a lot of friends.

He had a very good-natured
temperament, I'm told.

Of course, you would know best.

It's just a bit further up here on the left.

Anyway, as I say, he seemed to have
been an extremely pleasant animal.

Unfortunately, nobody could figure out
how to open his dog-cage.

Three years earlier.

The sole survivor of last week's
colossal bullet-train disaster,

a young boy named Atari, awoke
from a deep-coma early this morning

to learn of his parents' tragic deaths
and also the intention

of his distant-uncle, Mayor Kobayashi,
to personally adopt him

as ward to the mayoral-household.

Upon his release from Megasaki General,

Atari who suffered the loss
of his right kidney

and numerous broken bones in the crash
will live in sequestered quarters

within the confines of Brick Mansion,

where he will be educated
in solitude by private tutors.

Atari has also been assigned
a security-detail for his own protection

in the form of a highly trained
bodyguard-dog named Spots Kobayashi.

Um, you're my new master.

My name is Spots. I'm at your service.

I'll be protecting your welfare
and safety on an ongoing-basis.

In other words: I'm your dog.

Bodyguard-dog! Not pet!

I can hear you, Master Atari.

I can hear you.

I can hear you. I can hear you.

Oh, no.

You need a key.

- Where'd you get that?
- What? I always had this.

I stole it off the dead skeleton.

Oh, no.

Hey! The wrong dog died!

The wrong dog died!

The wrong... The wrong dog died.

He's not Spots.

Who is that?

I can't smell him.

This is child abuse.

Chief, you fight the robot-dog.

Wait. What?

King, Duke, Boss?
You attack the three dog-catchers.

- On it.
- I'll guard The Little Pilot.

On my command. Ready?

Wait a second!

I am not gonna fight this robot!

I'm against The Little Pilot, remember?

I don't even believe in masters.

You're the best in a scrap.

We all know that. You like to fight.

Well, let's take a vote.

All in favor of Chief fighting
the robot-dog, say "Aye".

- Aye.
- Nay.

Sic 'em.

My ward, Atari, has been
kidnapped against his will

by a pack of disobedient,
contagious, infected animals.

He will be rescued promptly,
returned to safety,

and grounded for the duration
of his childhood years.

His five dog-abductors have been
identified through the use

of advanced Tooth-and-Tail
Recognition Software:

They will, of course, be captured
and violently destroyed.

Chief ought to get a check-up, too.

He looks worse than anybody.

I wish somebody spoke his language.

Sit-o!

Well, I understood that. Sit down.

Sit-o!

Chief! Sit!

I don't sit.

You're disobedient! Sit!

No.

I wouldn't drink that, if I were you.

It's full of toxic chemicals.

How do you know?

Because my sister-in-law drank it,
and her tongue turned black.

Oh.

You're Felix's mate.

I beg your pardon?

I mean, I think you mated
with Felix, if I heard it right?

That's none of your business.

No, no, I don't suggest whether
it actually happened or not.

I'm just saying that I recognize you
from when I heard that rumor.

I think I'm going to say good-night.

Wait, wait, wait. No.

Wait. Start over. Who cares about Felix?

I'm Chief. That's my name.

I see.

I'm introducing myself. Who are you?

I thought you knew all about me.

No, I don't know anything.

I should've kept my mouth shut.

It's all hearsay.

Anyway, you're Nutmeg.

So you do know me, after all.

After all? Yes.

You a show-dog, Nutmeg?

I was bred as a show-dog.

I was groomed for that purpose.

It wasn't my choice.

I don't consider it my identity.

Anyway, look around.

What difference does it make now?

So that's a yes.

So that's a: yes, I used to be.

May I join you?

You've been attacked.

Hmm. What else is new?
You should see the other dog.

Actually, I think he was made
of stainless-steel.

I couldn't get my teeth into him.

Who is The Little Pilot?

What'd he do? Why are they after him?

Nobody knows.

You're a stray, aren't you?

Yes, I'm a stray.

But aren't we all?
In the last analysis, I mean?

Were you trained? For competition.

I was a show-dog.

- You know a few tricks, then.
- A few.

Can I see one?

Maybe if I get to know you better.

Fair enough.

It's not true, by the way.

About me and Felix. For the record.

I wouldn't bring puppies into this world.

I don't believe in masters. I never did.

It's against my principles.

But this is no place for a dog like you.

You belong somewhere. You've got papers.

Oh, I'm full-grown, sweetheart.

You don't have to worry about me.

Good-night.

I hope I'll see you again.

- Here's one.
- One what?

I'm supposed to be spinning a nine-pound
bowling-ball over my head at this point,

but you just have to imagine that part.

Oh.

I can picture it.

Will you help him? The Little Pilot?

Why should I?

Because he's a 12-year-old boy.

Dogs love those.

Spots, whoever he is, might be alive,
and he might be dead,

but one thing's for sure:
he's nowhere around here.

He's not in the dog-community.

There's probably another 500 Japanese
hectares of unmapped waste-land

on Trash Island at least.

Where do we start?

Also, the mental health question:

maybe it's because of that propeller-clutch
stuck in the side of his head

I can't say, I'm not a doctor, but I think
The Little Pilot's got a screw loose.

Those are the cons.

You heard the rumor, right?
About The Little Pilot.

- Which rumor?
- What is that?

Kobayashi is his distant uncle.

He's the mayor's ward.

- What?
- Whoa.

Be that as it may, let's look at the pros.

That boy flew here, all alone,
and crash-landed onto this island

for one reason; one reason only:
to find his dog.

To the best of my knowledge, no other
master, not one single human master,

has made any effort to do that.

They've forgotten all about us.

I propose we start tomorrow, first-light.

We'll cross the Middle Fingers.

We'll find the tugboat on the Dune.

We'll go see Jupiter and Oracle.

They'll know what to do.

Let's take a vote. All in favor say "Aye".

- Aye.
- Nay.

Who's the nay-sayer?

- Him.
- Me.

That kid is gonna get us all
put to sleep. Euthanized.

We won't find the dog,

but we will die trying.

Not a bad way to go.
You're out-voted, anyway.

Science-Party Candidate Professor Watanabe

has been placed under house-arrest
today at Toho Mountain Ryokan

after offering sharp criticism last night

of the Kobayashi Administration's
Canine Saturation-Crisis policy:

Foreign-exchange student Walker.

Thank you, Editor Hiroshi.

You all know me. I speak my mind,
and sometimes that ruffles some feathers.

Please, forgive my bluntness.

Mayor Kobayashi is a crook, and I hate him.

Right now, he faces a divided congress
during a hotly-contested re-election year.

Dogs are dying on a miserable island.

Gullible masters have been brainwashed.

The Science-Party Candidate
is being held against his will

with no recourse to legal counsel.

Somebody is up to something.

You have a conspiracy theory?

I have a hunch.

I don't print hunch.

Huh?

I'll spell it out.

I believe Municipal Dome propaganda

has deliberately stoked
irrational, Anti-Dog fear

and suppressed a medically
proven Dog-Flu treatment

in order to promote a secret campaign

to turn the country against
its innocent house-pets.

There. I said it.

Can you prove it?

I don't know.

To tell you the truth: I don't know.

I've lost all of my pride

I've been to paradise and out the other side

Part Two: "The Search for Spots."

With no one to guide me

Torn apart by a fiery wheel inside me

An untouched diamond

That's golden and brilliant
without illumination

Your mouth's a constellation

The stars are in your eyes

I'll take a spaceship
and try and go and find you

The Middle Fingers of Trash Island
wind and weave up-river,

inter-stitched by zig-zagging
pipe-lines and rusty viaducts.

The ruins of a failed utility-complex
washed-out by tsunami.

The rubble of an abandoned power-plant
demolished by earthquake.

The remains of a deserted industrial
estate destroyed by volcanic blast.

I won't hurt you I won't hurt you

I won't hurt you I won't hurt you

The Old Trash Island Athletic Club,

member-less and long-forgotten.

Okay, I got a question.
What's your favorite food?

A double-portion of Doggy Chop from the can

mixed into a bowl of broken Puppy Snaps
with a vitamin crushed up into it.

King's the spokes-dog for that.

He's the Doggy Chop dog.

- Mmm. Used to be.
- Was that your daily meal?

Not always. My master was a school-teacher.

We weren't rich, you know. You?

A center-cut Kobe rib-eye, seared,
on the bone, with salt and pepper.

Wow.

It was my birthday supper. Every year.

Mine's hot-sausage, yakitori-style.

The snack vendor always
saved me one on game-days.

- Hmm. Duke?
- Ah, green-tea ice cream.

My master had a sweet-tooth.

I probably inherited it from her.

You heard the rumor, right? About Doggy Chop.

- Remind us again.
- What rumor?

- Oh, they folded.
- Oh, no.

Doggy... Doggy Chop folded?

How about you, Chief?
What was your favorite food?

Me? Oh, I don't care.

Garbage, trash, scraps of rubbish.

- I'm used to left-overs.
- Hmm.

Yeah, yeah.

Of course, I wasn't always a stray.

Wait. What'd you say?

I said I wasn't always a stray.

- Really? Since when?
- Tell us about that.

I've been hunted by dog-catchers all my life.

I'm not easy to trap.

I've only got three captures on my record

where I actually got sent
to the pound, I mean,

and the first two times,
I escaped within 24 hours,

but the third time...

I got adopted before I could finish
digging the break-out-tunnel.

It was a big family.

Five kids. Two other dogs, already.

They stuck me in the back of a station-wagon
and drove me out to the middle of the sticks.

Grass, trees, swimming pool. Cartoons on TV.

Anyway, one morning a week later,

the youngest boy, his name was Toshiro,

woke me up at 6:15, bright-eyed, wide-awake,

and he tried to pet me.

He didn't mean anything by it.
He was just being friendly.

Apparently, I bit him so hard,
I nearly chewed his hand off.

Blood all over the kitchen floor.

They rushed him to the emergency room
and I got pad-locked out

in the tool-shed with the lights out.

It gave me some time to think.

What happened? Why did I do that?

To this day, I have no idea.

I guess he scared me.

I bite.

That night, an old woman,
she must've been the grandmother

brought me out a bowl of some
homemade hibachi-chili.

I like to think she cooked it for me,
personally -but who knows?

Maybe it was just more left-overs. But...

You've got a tick.

Anyway, that's my favorite food I ever ate.

The old woman made a great bowl of chili.

What happened after that?

I dug my way out by morning,
jumped on the back of a dump-truck,

and hitched back to Megasaki.

I was always a street-dog, let's face it.

Somebody's stalking us.

As you know, we all hate dogs.

Chairman Fujimoto-san,
President of Kobayashi Pharmaceutical.

You secretly introduced
mega-quantities of infected fleas

and contagious tick-larvae
into a metropolitan city center,

creating an unprecedented
animal-disease out-break.

Thank you.

General Yamatachi-san, Commander
of the Megasaki Municipal Task force.

You oversaw the deportation
of over 750,000 caged-animals

to a nearly uninhabitable
off-shore refuse-center.

Good work.

Supervisor Kitano-san,
Director of Kobayashi Robotics.

You developed the most
promising artificial life-form

in the history of corporate-technology,
and a powerful new weapon, to boot.

Well done.

Yakuza Nakamura-san,
Head of the Clenched-Fist Gang.

You eliminated all Pro-Dog opposition
through the use of bribery,

extortion, intimidation, and violent force.

My compliments.

Brains have been washed.
Wheels have been greased.

Fear has been mongered.

Now we prepare for the final stage
of our conspiracy-theory:

the permanent end
to the Canine Saturation-Crisis.

We believe we've recovered
a viable DNA sample

from this article
of damaged aviation equipment.

We're going to check it right now
if you care to observe.

We call upon dog-lovers everywhere
to harken to this transmission:

May-day! May-day!

Unscheduled Junior Turbo-Prop
in severe distress over Sapporo River.

Engine-failure, and detachment of left wing.

Will attempt emergency-landing
on Trash Island coast.

Please, make note of the following:

to my security-detail / bodyguard-dog,
Spots Kobayashi, if still living,

I leave all my worldly possessions.

If Spots has preceded me into
the next life, I ask that everything,

including my own bones and Spots' carcass,

be burned in a crematory furnace,

with our ashes scattered to the four-winds.

It will not amount to much
pollution in this sad land.

If I survive, ignore this message.

I've gone to find my dog.

Young masters of Megasaki: unite!

Turpentine brandy.

It cools the head and warms the dog-bones.

It may snow tonight.

Really? Thank you very much. Wow.

To whom it may concern.

- She sees the future.
- No.

She understands T.V.

You seek a dog named Spots.

- Dog-Zero.
- Dog-Zero.

As you know,
most of the animals on this island

come from human homes
with domesticated back-grounds.

However, a small population
of savage, aboriginal dogs

have been scavenging the Metropolitan
Dumping-Grounds for nearly a decade.

The graffiti on this wall depicts the story.

They were born into captivity
on the ends of the fringes

of the most distant reaches of the island.

They endured great suffering and cruelty

at the hands of their former masters.

Finally, in the wake of
an Act of God, they escaped-

to a harsh and desperate freedom.

Some say they died away over the
subsequent years, starving and forgotten.

Some say they swam to the mainland,
but this seems unlikely.

Too far to dog-paddle.

Some say they're still with us,

in the Far-away Cuticles,
beyond the Middle Fingers.

We know the animal you seek.

He has appeared in Oracle's visions.

A prophecy suggests itself:

Spots, if he's alive,
may very well be living,

even at this moment, as a captive prisoner

abducted into the company
of these wild, savage dogs.

Oracle, what do you think?

What?

Continue your journey.
Have faith in your cause.

Luck and good fortune be unto you.

You heard the rumor, right?
About these aboriginal dogs.

- Remind me again.
- What's the rumor?

Uh, they're cannibals.

So you're telling me
they're going to want to eat us?

Well, they're cannibals.

We're approaching
the end of Old Trash Island.

To the west: the Sapporo River
and Megasaki City.

To the east: the open-sea.

To the north: a long, rickety
cause-way over a noxious sludge-marsh

leading to a radio-active land-fill
polluted by toxic chemical-garbage.

- That's our destination.
- Great.

- Got it.
- Get ready to jump.

I'm going to drag you overboard with my
teeth, since you can't understand the plan.

After that, we're back on foot.

The next stage...

Where'd they...

Where'd they go?

What are they doing over there?

How did this happen?

What's going on with this contraption?

If we get separated, which we are:

rendez-vous at the cause-way!

- You're not our leader!
- What?

You're not our leader! We all are!

Let's take a vote!

All in favor of my plan,
which is to rendez-vous at the cause-way...

Let's go.

No, you can't ride the Pagoda-Slide.

You're below the safety-limit,
anyway. Let's go.

We made an emergency plan, even if we
didn't get to vote and agree to it yet:

rendez-vous at the cause-way to the
Far-away Cuticles, and go find your dog.

Maybe everybody else just got crushed,
compacted, and incinerated,

but we're going to be there. Let's go.

Don't.

Repeat:

don't.

I am not your pet. I never liked you.

I don't care about you. I won't wait for you.

I bite.

Good luck.

Jerks. Come here. Oh, do this. Do that.

Our Masters. I'll do what I...

Hmm...

I suppose if it was working right,
we'd be dead already.

Don't ask me to fetch that stick.

Fetch-i!

Fetch-i!

I'm telling you: I don't fetch.

Fetch-i!

I'm not doing this because
you commanded me to.

I'm doing it- because I feel sorry for you.

Good boy.

Where'd you get that dog?

He looks like me with a pink nose.

I come from a nine-dog litter,
but they drowned the sisters.

We're not a rare breed:
short-haired-Oceanic- speckled-ear/

sport-hound-mix.

I'm getting confused now.

My belly feels funny.

Biscuit-o.

I can't accept that. It's for your dog.

I've never been offered
a Puppy Snap in my life.

I don't even know what they taste like.

Okay, I'll try it.

Crunchy. Salty.

Supposedly, it cleans your teeth.

This is my new favorite food.

Thank you.

My pale blue star

My rainbow, how good it is
to know you're like me

Strike me with your lightning

Bring me down and bury me with ashes

I won't hurt you I won't hurt you

I won't hurt you I won't hurt you

Cold up here tonight.

We'll find him.

Wherever he is, if he's alive:
we'll find your dog.

I won't hurt you I won't hurt you

I won't hurt you I won't hurt you

I won't hurt you I won't hurt you

Mayor Kobayashi,
elected leader of Megasaki City.

For 150 years, you and your ancestors,

known as the Kobayashi Dynasty,
a procession of dog-hating thugs,

stooges, felons,
and their criminal underlings,

have betrayed and deceived
the citizens of Uni Prefecture.

You make me so mad!

Professor Watanabe,
Science-Party Candidate, deceased.

The wasabi in your blood showed poison-levels

in excess of ten times the maximum dosage
required to stop the heart of a whale.

Why'd you do it?

Atari Kobayashi, adopted ward
to the mayoral-household.

You heroically hi-jacked
a Junior Turbo-Prop XJ750

and flew it to the island...

Atari.

You heroically, as I was saying,

stole the little airplane,
because of your dog and...

I lost my train of thought.

Dammit!

I've got a crush on you.

Part Three: "The Rendez-Vous."

Rex! King! Duke! Boss! You made it!

- What happened to you?
- I took a bath.

- What? He's got soap?
- Just a little.

You're too fluffy.

- We played fetch.
- With a stick?

With a hunk of rubber radiator-tubing.

And you brought it back to him?

Yeah.

He's a good boy.

Don't you tell me that!

I'm the one that tried to make you
be loyal to him, in the first place.

Stop. Stop! This is the rendezvous.

Where's that trash-tram taking you?

You think we booked this ride
through a travel agent?

We were fighting for our lives
in a high-velocity trash-processor

while you were getting scrubbed and brushed.

- Jump!
- Where?

- Here!
- When?

- Now!
- Why?

- What?
- Let's take a vote.

All in favor of jump...

Who's that?

I can't smell him.

Come in.

Master Atari... Can you hear me?

Huh?

That dog's real.

What's that thing in your ear for?

Are you hard of hearing?

You can't be. Um...

Bodyguard-dogs have to have
20/30-Auditory just to be certified.

No, the ear-piece is how I receive
my commands and instructions and so on.

Obviously, I'm privy to
certain sensitive information

due to my position in the
mayoral-household at Brick Mansion.

Oh, so you mean somebody could
be talking to you right now?

Well, the range is only about
75 feet or so, I guess, so...

Battery's probably dead, anyway.

I got a question for you.

How much money do you think the mayor makes?

I can't tell you that.

That's highly confidential.

Um, anyway, I'm not
the mayor's accountant's dog.

That's Butterscotch, and she got crushed in
a glass compactor the day before yesterday.

No, my duties are, uh, focused entirely

on the protection of the mayor's ward, Atari.

I'm not supposed to be his friend,
but I love him very much,

but that's a private matter.

Um, the only reason I even said that

was because we're all probably
going to die out here

and I'll never see him again.

That's a tough break.

Well, good luck to you
and watch out for the cannibal-dogs.

- Hmm?
- Hmm?

- What?
- What?

- Watch out for the...?
- The cannibal-dogs.

- They are dogs that eat dogs.
- Start over and repeat again.

You know what? Don't even worry about that.

I just heard there might be some wild,
aboriginal, cannibal-dogs in the area,

you know, but I wouldn't worry because
you're in an extra-security lock cell.

Look at it that way.

You're probably safer than I am.

Except from thirst and starvation.

It's got an extra-security lock on it.

You'll never get it open.

Are you going to eat me now?

What did you say?

Are you going to eat me now?

I heard you were cannibal-dogs.

Be notified: I'll be compelled to defend
myself with all means at my disposal.

Hmm.

Who told you that dirty lie?

We resorted to cannibalism on one occasion,

many months ago,
as a desperate survival instinct.

We ate one single dog.

His name was Fuzzball,
and he was the leader of our pack,

and he was already in a coma from starvation,

so we put him out of his... his...

His misery and...

And...

Consumed him.

We would have dropped dead in a week
or less without that nourishment.

We were dying. Do you judge us for that?

Shame on you!

We only brought you here
in the first place to help you.

We've got a Master Pass-Key!

Open his cage.

Fuzzball was his best friend.

Oh, dear. Uh, I think I offended him.

I'm truly sorry. I had no idea.

What is this place?
How long have you been here?

I can see you've been mistreated.

Are you okay?

My name is Spots. Spots Kobayashi.

How can I be of service to you?

Master Atari-san, can you hear me?

Can you hear me, Master Atari?

Spots-u?

You're not safe here!

You shouldn't have come for me!

I can't protect you efficiently

under these conditions!

Spots-u!

Here I come.

Sic-'em!

Follow me!

All in favor of kicking Chief out of the pack

and never speaking to him again, say "Aye".

Aye!

- How did you do that?
- Secret tooth! Military issue!

Technically, I could do it 37 more times,
but I wouldn't be able to chew my meat!

I assume you're Spots!
We've been looking for you.

Master Atari-san,

I swore an oath when I assumed
the responsibilities

of official bodyguard-dog
to the mayoral-household!

I could never be persuaded to break
that vow for any reason whatsoever!

I'll always be loyal to you
as my only and unconditional master!

But circumstances have radically changed
for me and all the pets of Megasaki City!

I have new obligations
which I never anticipated!

I've become the leader of a tribe of outcasts
who depend on me for their survival,

and I'm going to be a father!

With deepest sadness and humility:

I must ask you to relieve me of the duties
of my position, effective immediately.

You son of a bitch.

If we don't drown, I'm going
to strangle you myself.

I don't care how many exploding teeth
you try to spit-out at me.

Do you have any idea what that Little Pilot
just went through to try to rescue you?

How dare you?

- You're a stray.
- Yeah, so what?

What's your name?

Who cares?

You're from central Megasaki.
I can tell by the accent.

You're a short-haired-Oceanic-
speckle-ear/sport-hound-mix.

You were born in a storm-sewer
on Bamboo-shoot Holiday six years ago today.

Do you know me?

I... I don't... I don't know.

I'm your older brother by five minutes.

It's been a long time, Chief.

Was... Was I the runt?

Not anymore.

Security-camera footage
confirms initial-reports

of the deaths of mayoral-ward Atari Kobayashi

and his five dog-abductors this afternoon

in a sluice channel at the threshold
of the Far-Away Cuticles.

A statement from Major-Domo,
live at Brick Mansion:

The life of a promising young orphan

has been cut short before its prime.

This is a distant-uncle's worst nightmare.

Mayor Kobayashi asks for your
prayers, your condolences

and your support
for the diligent men and women

of the Municipal Task Force
Dog-Catchers Division:

we salute you for your bravery
and your ongoing commitment

to the continuing punishment of all bad-dogs.

Originally, before the volcano erupted
and an earthquake triggered the tsunami

which obliterated the facility, there were
over 250 incarcerated animals here

on the premises being experimented
on against their will.

If you look closely, you may
notice some of these dogs

still bear scars and markings
from the research and abuse.

Actually, it's pretty obvious.

This is my mate, Peppermint.

She's pregnant with our first litter.

She was due a week ago.

Anyway, the survivors
of the disaster learned to cultiv...

What's he got there? What's he got there?

Biscuit-o. Biscuit-o. Biscuit-o.

Puppy Snaps.

I heard they don't even make them anymore.

You heard the rumor, right?

About Kobayashi Pharmaceutical.

- I never heard it.
- What rumor?

They invented Dog-Flu.

- No.
- Of course.

That makes sense.

Where do you get all these rumors?

I mean, who tells them to you?

I don't know. Anybody.

Dogs talk, and I listen. Always have.

I, uh, love gossip.

Spots!

The black owl has a message.

He's come from all the way across the island.

Get him a cup of sewer-water, Chico.

Mmm-hmm.

Mmm-hmm.

Yes. We understand.

He has news from the
Metropolitan Dumping-Grounds.

- Metropolitan...
- Shh! Quiet, please.

We're listening, owl. Tell us your message.

He's going to poison us.

Re-election Night: at the moment
Mayor Kobayashi is re-inaugurated,

he'll give the order,
and the extermination-process will begin.

Oracle saw the plan in her visions.

If the voters choose me again
on Re-Election Night,

I promise: a final and permanent end
to the Canine Saturation-Crisis.

Every pet in the Trash Island Camp will die.

It may be too late, already;
but, if the black owl reaches you

with this message in time:

Go to Megasaki City. Find our masters.

Appeal to the people. Stop the mayor.

Save us.

We're crossing the river tonight.

Begin preparations immediately.

You'll meet a bitch named Nutmeg.

Tell her Chief says:
I'll see you in Megasaki.

Hmm.

Beautiful night.

- Peppermint's in labor.
- Oh.

Come sit beside me.

It's okay.

Master Atari, are you willing
to accept my brother Chief

as new bodyguard-dog
in personal service to you,

former ward to the mayoral-household?

Chief, are you willing to accept
Atari as your direct master,

to serve and protect his safety and welfare

with all courage, loyalty and friendship?

I can do that.

Good.

Chocolate milk, cold.

Tracy Walker, Megasaki
Senior High, Daily-Manifesto.

Are you Professor Watanabe's
former Assistant-Scientist, Yoko-ono-san?

Do I have it?

Too late.

Do I have it?

Too late.

Nobody care.

Do I have it? Do I have the story?

Yes or no? On the record!

I am sorry for your loss,

but we both know: that was no suicide!

I need to prove my conspiracy-theory!

Ben is dead. No future on Trash Island.

I am failure.

Pull yourself together
and act like a scientist!

Professor Watanabe never gave up.

Is this... Is this the serum?

The Dog-Flu cure? The Snout-fever treatment?

The end of the Canine Saturation-Crisis?

Last dose.

Tracy:

be careful.

Part Four: "Atari's Lantern."

Not fair!

To dogs!

- Not fair!
- To dogs!

- Not fair!
- To dogs!

There will never be a place
for Dog-Flu in Megasaki City.

There will never be room
for Snout-fever in Uni Prefecture.

The time has come to put
the violent, intimidating,

unsanitary bad-dogs of Trash Island
humanely to sleep.

For their own good; and also: ours.

General Yamatachi?
Bring out the replacement-pet.

Sit-o!

The results are in!

Stand by for the incoming
Re-Election Night tally!

That crook! He's stealing
the re-election again! Let's go!

This landslide re-election
is a massive fraud,

and we demand a re-count!

Respect-o.

The mayor is allowing the unauthorized
Pro-Dog student-protestors

a platform to voice their dissenting beliefs!

Mayor Kobayashi has dog's-blood
on his hands! You all do!

Atari was a hero.

Professor Watanabe was murdered.

The serum works!

The mayor is a crook, and I hate him.

This small minority of dog-lovers has been
sent by overseas special-interest groups

to agitate disorder and incite anarchy.

I hereby cancel and nullify
Foreign-exchange student Walker's

senior high school study-visa.

She will be expelled from class,
stripped of her course-credits,

and formally deported
on the next direct-flight

- back to Cincinnati, Ohio.
- Oh. Hmm.

Mayor Kobayashi has directed Major-Domo
to bring him the red button.

Nutmeg!

Holy smokes! My lungs feel clear.

My equilibrium feels balanced.

My vision is sharp as a tack
for the first time in months.

Wow, that's a great serum!

Master Atari, whose death,
I think we can say,

appears to have been inaccurately reported,

has asked to read a statement
to the General Assembly.

He will then withdraw from the debate
and respond to no further questions.

Dear Editor Hiroshi of the Megasaki
Senior High Daily-Manifesto:

in a series of first-rate articles by
an attractive cub-reporter on your staff,

you shine a spot-light on the great
injustice that has occurred

under the Kobayashi Administration.

I have spent much of my time in recent weeks

traveling in the company
of the very kind of animals

our mayor refers to as "bad-dogs."

They are the finest living-beings
I have ever come to know

in all my dozen years on this earth.

To your readers, the good people of Megasaki,

I say: the cycle of life
always hangs in a delicate balance.

Who are we, and who do we want to be?

Who are we?

I wrote a haiku to try to express my feelings

about the suffering dogs of Trash Island.

It is also about nature, love,

friendship, eternity, and a black owl.

I call it: Atari's Lantern.

He said a haiku.

I'll tell you later.

I dedicate this poem to
my distant-uncle, Mayor Kobayashi,

who took me in when I myself was
a stray-dog with nowhere else to turn.

Editor Hiroshi, please extend
my subscription for an additional year.

I enclose a check in the amount
of one thousand yen.

Signed, Atari Kobayashi,
former ward to the mayoral-household.

Hmm.

Not-fair-to-the-boy.

Not-fair-to-the-dog.

He says: "I-have-no-honor."

Hmm?

Holy Moses!

The mayor has just officially
unstamped the Trash Island Decree!

No kidding!

Major-Domo is accusing the mayor
of breaking his campaign promise!

He's steaming mad!

It's gonna be a fight!

- Spit him with a tooth!
- I can't get a clean shot.

Too many innocent protesters.
I'll be right back.

Escape!

Escape! Escape!

Escape!

But, what about the right one?

According to a long-standing
statute unique to Uni Prefecture,

in the event of the death,
disappearance, or felony-prosecution

of the chosen candidate
on, while, during, or concurrent

with the Re-Election-Night ceremony,
all powers and authorities

vested in his or her designated office
transfer forthwith to his or her

next-of-kin and/or appointed heir.

In other words, Atari Kobayashi is
the new mayor of Megasaki City!

You heard me right: Atari Kobayashi
is the new mayor of Megasaki City!

Let's hope that new kidney works.

Boy, what a night!

Life in Uni Prefecture returned
to a comfortable tranquility.

The Megasaki Dragons
ended their winning streak

with a staggering loss to the Honda Goblins.

Doggy Chop re-opened
all 11 of its domestic factories,

and Puppy Snaps resumed production
with an improved product.

Graft and political corruption were reduced
to sustainable, acceptable levels.

The Dog-Flu serum cured every
breathing-animal in the region.

Some say a few lost-dogs continue to
roam and scavenge on Trash Island.

However, these rumors remain unconfirmed.

Mayor Atari, we all agree
it should be a crime

to abuse, beat, murder
or yell at any dog in Megasaki City.

That is not the question.

The question is:
what is the appropriate punishment?

Exactly. And the answer is: Death Penalty.

That seems excessive to us.

Possibly. Anyway, we should make it
at least 30 days community-service

and a fine of no less than 250,000 yen.

Meeting adjourned.

I'm standing-by, Master Atari.

So how does it feel to be a former stray?

Hmm. I take it one day at a time.

Last week, I nearly be-handed
an industrial lobbyist from West Suzuki.

They had to give him a blood transfusion.

He probably had it coming.

Maybe. Learned any new tricks?

Actually, yes. Just one.

Can I see it?

I'm supposed to be juggling ten
bowling-pins engulfed in flames

over my tail at this point,
but you just have to imagine that part.

I can picture it.

You still against bringing
puppies into this world?

I'll tell you when I get to know you better.

Fair enough.

My friends think I like to fight,

but it's just not true.

Sometimes I lose my temper and blow off
a little steam, but I've never enjoyed it.

I'm not a violent dog.

I don't know why I bite.

I'm not attracted to tame animals.

Thank you.