Original subtitles

[instrumental music]

[theme song]

♪ Whenever there's a crime or trouble ♪

♪ That no one can solve at all it seems ♪

♪ That's when they come and on the double ♪

♪ Sylvester And Tweety Mysteries ♪

♪ It might be day or night whenever ♪

♪ Conditions are right for them to flee ♪

♪ Somehow it all still fits together ♪

♪ Sylvester And Tweety Mysteries ♪

♪ If there's a full moon ♪

♪ An old house with rotten stairs ♪

♪ Just wook awound you ♪

♪ Chances are we'll be there ♪

♪ Someday I'll eat that darn canary ♪

♪ And then I'll be happy yes siree ♪

♪ But Hector thinks you should be wary ♪

♪ Sylvester And Tweety Mysteries ♪

♪ The chase goes on with each new mission ♪

♪ With backdrops aplenty globally ♪

♪ And through it all they're in contention ♪

♪ Sylvester And Tweety ♪

[music continues]

♪ Mysteries ♪

[instrumental music]

[instrumental music]

croak croak

[buzzing]

slurp

[burps]

[bubbling]

[instrumental music]

growl

[grunts]

splash splash

[instrumental music]

Pa, remember that hushpuppy we ate for supper?

Yeah, Norma Jean. What about it?

Well, pa, I think it's ganging on us.

Whoa!

That was no hushpuppy, Norma Jean.

That was the crawdad pie!

splash

[instrumental music]

[slurping]

thud

Oh, just what I've been looking for.

[grunts]

[laughs] Looks like the cook in Cajun

likes his own recipes.

(man on TV) 'Attention, all dog owners, fall in.'

'Are you tired of your poochie plopping on your patios'

'sleeping on your PJs?'

Then get me your flea-bitten mongrels'

'your toothless terriers'

and I'll make top-notch K-9s out of 'em.

[panting]

When I get through, you won't recognize your dog.

"Colonel Ambore's K-9 Obedience School."

Come along, Hector.

[panting]

Well, alright, Hector

if that's what you want.

(Ambore) 'Bully for your command decision, madam.'

'You've secured your bullmastiff's future.'

Uh, uh, can't you just teach him

to sit up and fetch, Colonel Ambore?

After one week of basic training

he'll have jaws of iron.

On TV they can twain you to have buns of steel.

[gasps]

I'd certainly like to pinch him..

[groans]

I want your pussycat.

Madam, I must have him.

This dog school has a feline diversity quota

and your cat can help us meet it.

Lock and load.

Your animals are in good hands with Colonel Ambore.

Oh, look at the time.

Let's get back to Bourbon Street, Tweety.

It's time for Mardi Gras en Parade.

[mandolin music]

Well, that's funny. It don't look like rain.

[music continues]

crash

[screeching]

[jazz music]

[indistinct chatter]

[trumpet blows]

You know, Tweety, in French

Mardi Gras means fat Tuesday.

Tuesday or Wednesday, you're a yummy snack.

gulp

[chuckles]

vroom

(Ambore) Here, kitty, kitty, nice kitty.

pop

Sorry about that, little birdy.

screech

[instrumental music]

Hm, I wonder what the Fwench would call that.

Oh, baloney!

Funny, that don't sound Fwench.

"Giant crawdad."

Oh, these newspapers will print anything.

Whoever heard of such a thing? My word!

crash

(Ambore) 'Double time, pooches, I'm losing my TV signal.'

[grunting]

Huh-huh. Phooey.

What's the use of cadence countin'

when we're going no place?

(man on TV) 'A giant crawdad strikes again.'

- 'News at 11:00.' - What?

(man on radio) 'As tonight, bedlam erupted on Bourbon Street'

'when a giant crawdad disrupted parade festivity.'

Oh, these silly science-fiction programs. Giant crawdad.

[laughing]

[gasps] Oh, dear.

[instrumental music]

(Ambore) K-9s, fall in.

That is our objective, defeat that thing

and the city will build us a bigger K-9 school.

'Fail in your mission and, uh..'

Well, you'd better not.

[gulps]

[instrumental music]

What's this? Smells like a home firmament.

sniff sniff sniff

Oh, oh! Oh, my!

So that's what happened to the crawdad.

Ooh!

(Tweety) 'Looks like the twail is getting hot.'

(male #1) 'My, my, my, them hot-sauce bottles'

look mighty small down there.

(woman on PA) 'There's a Ms. Granny and Mr. Tweety to see you, sir.'

Huh?

Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.

Mr. Creole, your spicy sludge in the bayou

has created one monster crawdaddy.

Oh, shucks, I'm sorry, ma'am.

I guess it was just the animal in me.

Hey, Scotty, revert the drain pipe

into the cafeteria reserve tank.

[chuckles] Hot pepper mulch makes a fine sauce for macaroni and cheese.

I guess it don't agree with the crawdads.

Say, would you care to join me for lunch

'in our company cafeteria?'

Oh! Uh, sorry.

Uh, we'll take a rain check on that.

chomp chomp

[gasps] My gracious!

He's eating a boat!

[whirring]

[screeching]

Look, the old bat's leading the big crab right to us.

Civilians, look at 'em run.

Hey, where's the rest of the platoon?

Where's that cat?

[teeth chattering]

Are you a cat..

[grunting]

...or a mouse?

I'll not have you disgrace

the colors of the academy.

[instrumental music]

As General Ike said on D-Day, "Who brought the corn dogs?"

Let's go!

bam

[gasping]

(Ambore) 'That's it, grab him by the skin'

'and kick him in the shins!'

[screeching]

Move it, move it, move it.

Lock and load, you K-9s! Lock and load!

[screeching]

About-face!

screech

'Start digging!'

- Ike used this play in '44. - 'What play?'

(Ambore) 'Four dog soldiers dig a hole big enough'

'for a clambake on Omaha Beach.'

[screeching]

'Crawdad in the hole!'

splash

'Hey, there's two ladybugs'

on my glass. Oh. Aha!

V for victory.

[screeching]

- Huh? - Now what?

There's only one thing to do. Fall back.

If that thing will eat a boat, what'll it do to an old lady?

[panting]

'Goodness, it'll destroy the steam plant.'

[screeching]

Hm.

[gasps] Of course!

My Cajun cookbook.

Oh, good heavens, why didn't I think of this before?

Mm-hmm.

[bubbling]

This soup stock is nearly a boil.

[sloshing]

Here, wittle cwawdaddy.

(Tweety) Come and get me.

[intense music]

[screeching]

splash

slurp slurp

Say, this tastes like jambalaya.

[slurps] Qua fish pie.

Filet gumbo.

And you know what that means.

[helicopter whirring]

♪ Ready simply crawdad tumbling ♪

♪ And all that jambalaya's rumbling ♪

chomp chomp chomp

So don't mess around with the Creole king.

Hyah! Hey!

Then I wrote ten more books about D-Day

and, uh, they gave me this medal.

Now, and thanks to her fine efforts

of ridding us of this whopper crawdaddy

'and providin' the citizens'

'with this mighty-fine crawdad gumbo'

I present Granny with a key to New Orleans.

Oh, Norleans, that is.

[slurping]

Ah, delicious!

That's what we like about the South.

[theme music]