Rayman Legends Adventures in An American Tail/Script

It was a cold and dark winter day in ancient Shostka, Russia.  A snowstorm came down from the heavens as wind blew across the land.  Snow and hail came flowing downwards, but despite this storm, there was a time of celebration in one of the local villages.  It was the holiday of Hanukkah and in one of the many houses, a family was celebrating inside, having a great time together.  This was the Mouskewitz family, but while and the other human families were enjoying themselves, they weren't the only ones.  Far below them, in their own tiny house, was another family celebrating the holiday.  This was a mouse family; the Mousekewitzes.  This mouse family consisted of the mother, Mama Mousekewitz, the father, Papa Mousekewitz and their young children; eldest daughter Tanya, baby sister Yasha, and eventually, their son, Fievel Mousekewitz.  The spirit of the holiday was making the children very emotional and enthusiastic, along with the violin music that Papa was playing to them.  "Tanya, Fievel, are you going to stop this spinning, spinning," asked Mama as she tended to Yasha, only to be ignored, "uh, no, no more.  It's time to go to bed, c'mon."
"But Mum, it's Hanukkah," said Papa, also in the happy mood.
"For you, every night is Hanukkah," replied Mama as Papa played his violin, chuckling over his wife's words, "Dad, enough already.  They'll never sleep."
"OK," said Papa as he put his violin away, "that's it."
"Gifts," asked Fievel curiously, "how about gifts?"
"Gifts," asked Papa, surprised, "what gifts?"
Fievel and Tanya's moods started to sink, for it seemed Papa forgot about holiday presents for them, but Mama knew something was up.  "Dad," scolded Mama.
Papa suddenly started laughing, revealing his shocked mood to be a facade.  "Just a joke," he said as he approached Tanya, "for Tanya, a new babushka.  Happy Hanukkah."
Papa gave his daughter the babushka and she loved it.  She looked herself in a mirror and found the gift a perfect addition to her look.  "Oh, Dad, thank you," she said happily.
"You have only one gift," asked Mama.
"Thank you, Mum."
With Tanya's gift given, Papa turned to Fievel.  "And for you, Fievel," he said before taking off his blue hat, "a new hat.  And not just any hat; a new hat that has been in the family for three generation.  It was mine, my father and my father's father, and now it belongs to you."
Papa let go of the hat and it landed right on the happy Fievel's head.  "Happy Hanukkah," said Papa.
Shortly after the hat landed on the boy's head though, it plopped over his eyes.  "It's too big," said Fievel as he put it back over his head.
"You'll grow up," said Mama as she tucked Yasha into bed.
Papa chuckled in agreement before he started to speak about something else.  "Did I ever warn you about the Giant Mouse of Minsk?"
"No," said Tanya as she sat below her father, willing to know about he was speaking about.
"No," added Fievel, also curious, before he sat next to Tanya to hear about it.
"Was it something like the long-haired mouse that the prince climbed up," asked Tanya.
"Hehehehe, no," chuckled Papa before doing some hand shadow tricks, presenting what he was referring to, "this mouse, the Mouse of Minsk was tall as a tree, his tail…was a mile longer."
"Really," asked Fievel, intrigued.
"Really," replied Papa, "he was so fat, he scared all the cats......"
"Csendes," scolded Mama, "don't say that word.  Speak about something else."
Despite Mama's suggestion of speaking about something else, Fievel and Tanya already had a feeling of Papa's tale.  "America," said Tanya.
"Another fairytale," said Mama, brushing off the story as fiction.
"America," said Papa, "what a place."
"What a place," said Fievel and Tanya simultaneously, willing to know more.
"In America, there are mouse holes in every wall."
"Who says," asked the skeptical Mama.
"Everyone," the trio replied.
"In America, there are bread crumbs on every floor," said Papa.
"You speak about nonsense," said Mama again.
"In America, you can say whatever you want," said Papa before getting down to one very reluctant detail, "but the most reluctant," before kneeling down to the children and whispering, "and that I know in America, there aren't...cats."
Mama yet heard her husband's words.  "Hush, they'll hear you," said Mama.
"How can they hear us," asked Papa.
Suddenly, everything around the family started to shake, slowly getting more and more intense within seconds.  This took everyone by surprise, and Yasha started crying.  "That's it, you see," complained Mama to Papa.
Outside, the source of the shaking was being caused by a group of people riding into town on horseback, but these were not fellow village members celebrating the holiday.  These were Cossacks, and they were carrying torches and guns, ready to attack the innocent villagers.  "THE COSSACKS," cried one of the villagers as the villagers shrieked and fled for shelter, "IT'S THE COSSACKS!!"
Gunshots fired all around the place as the Cossacks attacked the villagers.  Some villagers got hit by the gunshots and collapsed onto the snowy ground while others fled in an attempt to get away.  Inside the Mousekewitz household, Fievel and Tanya latched themselves onto Papa in fright.  Some Cossacks threw their torches to the houses, scaring the people inside to rush out, straight into the chaos.  This horrific attack was also scaring the mice families that lived under the houses.  They fled their households, trying to escape, as the Cossacks proceeded deeper into the village.  But while the Cossacks attacked the humans, there was another sinister threat that came out to attack the mice.  Behind the trail of horses came numerous cats, and they charged towards the mouse families.  The mice, terrified of the invading felines, fled the other road, leaving their supplies behind.  Like the Cossack's attack on the villagers, these cats had vicious intentions for the mice.  With saliva dripping from their mouths, they looked upon the panicking mice before charging towards them.  One group of mice looked in horror upon seeing the invaders before fleeing the separate direction, narrowly dodging one of the cats' mouths.  One mouse drove a wheelbarrow off from the chaos, only to come face-to-face with another hungry cat.  Inside the Mousekewitz house, the chaos were scaring everyone, but Fievel had a plan.  "Don't cry, Yasha," said Fievel as he caught a frying pan and spoon and ran outside, "I'll frighten them off."
"FIEVEL, YOU'LL BE HURT," cried Papa, not letting his son get murdered.
But Fievel didn't listen to his father and rushed out of the house.  With his frying pan and spoon at his disposal, he banged them together to in an attempt to scare the intruders off from their neighborhood.  Outside, the cats were yet attacking the innocent mice, with one cat almost chomping on one family, only to strike a violin and a whole family of mice trying to flee the village.  "GO AWAY," shouts Fievel as he bangs the frying pan, "GO AWAY!!"
After a brief moment of banging his frying pan, it seemed there weren't any cats nearby, but Fievel could warn that there were yet some nearby.  "GO AWAY, CATS!!  GO AWAY," he shouts as he runs towards the chaos.
But as soon as he got himself in the midst of the attacks, his bravery shattered in an instant as some cats started going after him.  Shrieking for his life, he ran back the road he came, with one cat in hot pursuit.  Fievel dove into a pile of snow, with the cat close behind and the two were sent sliding through the snow.  Fievel managed to get through a chair, leaving the large cat behind him to get his head stuck in the chair like a stockade.  As for Fievel, he smashed into a boot, dizzy.  The cat stuck in the chair viciously tried getting himself free as another cat charged towards Fievel.  Fievel swiftly ran back into the trail of snow he went through, taking his hat with him, as the cat dove in after him.  The other cat that was stuck, eventually freed himself and dove in after Fievel as well.  Fievel was now outside the snowy pile, but he was now riding on the snow that was being pushed by the cat behind him.  He saw the other cat plowing toward him like a train and saw that he was in serious danger.  "WHOA," he exclaimed, "what the…AAHHHH!!!!"
The two cats collided head-on with each other.  Fievel managed to dodge their collision and was now on top of them.  Not wasting another second, Fievel climbed up an overhead rope attached to a hanging teapot and hid himself inside.  The two hungry cats caught the teapot and opened it up, trying to find the little mouse.  Unbeknownst to them, Fievel had hid himself in the lid.  One of the cats looked in the lid, but Fievel swiftly scurried outside of it, dodging the cats' point of view.  Having missed Fievel, the cat tossed the lid aside before looking into the teapot once again to find him.  The lid landed near one of the destroyed houses as the cats eventually ran away, having caused enough damage in the neighborhood.  Dizzy, but alive, Fievel pushed the lid aside as the rest of the family met up with him.  "Fievel," shivered the concerned Mama, "angel, are you alright?"
"Yes, Mum," replied the yet dizzy Fievel.
"Then don't ever do that AGAIN," scolded Mama, furious that her son rushed into jeopardy.
Fievel nodded no, agreeing not to do something reckless like that again.  But while Fievel was yet alive, the damage had already been done.  "Mum, look," said Tanya as she looked upon the destruction left behind during the attack.
The family gathered to observe alongside her, and to their horror, their house did not survive the chaos.  On fire, everything inside the house was destroyed, leaving the Mousekewitz family homeless.  "In America.....there aren't...cats," said Papa mournfully as they watched the fire eat off their house, along with the many others left in the wake of this devastating attack.
Under the cloudy heavens of what was a day in in Ancient Hamburg, Germany, a group of people were lined up on one of the docks right next to the Atlantic Ocean.  They were getting on a tramp steamer boat in ready for a trip out to sea.  While these people were getting themselves ready, another group of travelers were also boarding the boat.  On one of the ropes tying the ship to the dock, a band of mice played a fanfare with their instruments as more mice marched onboard.  Among these mice was the Mousekewitz family.  Having escaped the wreckage of their destroyed neighborhood in Shostka, they were on their road to a new home, once they hoped would prohibit sanctuary from the cats.  Fievel marched with them, holding Papa's tail, but suddenly, he stopped and looked into the water below them.  His action caused the line of mice behind him to stop and smash into each other.  "Look, Dad.  The water," he said with curiosity, "is that the ocean?"
"Yes," replied Dad, unwilling to hold up a line, "keep walking."
The band resumed their fanfare as Fievel started walking up the rope again.  It didn't take long however for the young mouse to notice something else that made him stop again.  "Look, Dad," he said as he pointed towards one of the boat funnels, which was giving off smoke, "is the smoke on fire?"
"No, no, keep walking," replied Papa, getting a little annoyed.
The band once again resumed the fanfare, but they were getting annoyed with what was going on.  Fievel started walking again, but noticed something else that made him stop.  He was looking at two seagulls, who were watching the activity from nearby.  "Look, Dad," he said, "birds!  Are they seagulls?"
"KEEP WALKING," said the two seagulls simultaneously.
Papa took Fievel and put him right in front of him.  "Keep walking," he said.
"KEEP WALKING," exclaimed the other mice behind him.
Once again, Fievel resumed walking with the other mice as the fanfare played again.  "I just wanted to see," said Fievel as they got closer to the boat.
"Fievel, this is the last time I'm taking you to America," said Papa as they eventually got onboard.
"Farewell," said Fievel as he waved a farewell to the land behind them.
As the Mousekewitz family got onboard, and with that said, a whistle on top of the ship blew out smoke, signifying the start of the voyage.  Bells rang out as some mice who weren't going on this voyage, waved a farewell to the ship as it started to leave.
"AU REVOIR!!"
"ADIOS!!"
"ARRIVEDERCI!!"
Some of the seagulls also waved a farewell to the vessel as it started to disappear from view.  "AUF WIEDERSEHEN," one of them shouts to the boat.
"You know, I have a cousin in America," said his partner.
"Ah, you and everyone else," said the other seagull after spitting.
"What?"
The birds had a jolly laugh together as the boat disappeared over the horizon, starting the long journey toward America, where the mice would hope that there were no cats.
Later that night, the ship had traveled a far distance from Europe and was continuing its voyage to America.  Sailing over the calm waters of the Atlantic Ocean, the voyage was going swimmingly, but for the occupants onboard, their minds were focused on other facts.  Onboard, a number of immigrants slept, while some sat in different spots, trying to recover from whatever problems they dealt with back where they came from, trying to keep warm, or hoping that America would prohibit a good sanctuary for them.  In a mouse hole nearby, the immigrant mice were doing the same fact.  Many of the mice were silent and reminiscing over what they lost in the cat attacks.  The Mousekewitz family sat alongside them.  Mama tended to Yasha while Papa played his violin for Fievel and Tanya.  "Are we there yet," asked Fievel.
"Not yet," replied Papa, "soon."
"How soon," asked Fievel, a little impatient.
"Soon," replied Mama.
"Perhaps we should've stayed in Russia," said Tanya, feeling a little down.
"We'll be alright," said Papa reassuringly, "as long as we're together, we'll be alright."
Papa resumed playing his violin while Fievel sighed, bummed that they weren't in America yet.
Later in the day, as the boat continued its silent trip, little activity remained onboard.  In one area, one immigrant walked towards a watery barrel and pulled out something.  It was a small fish.  Fievel appeared on the barrel, only a few feet away.  Curious about his surroundings, he looked down into one of the water barrels as the core of an apple fell into it and sank to the bottom.  Inside the barrel, a number of fish swam by it.  Fievel looked upon this activity before Papa appeared on the scene as well.  "Ah, well, Mr. Curious George," he said, "you've discovered the herring."
"Herring," asked Fievel, "I thought they were fish."
Papa chuckled over Fievel's words before saying, "but Fievel, herring are fish."
"Really?"
"Certainly," said Papa, "there are all kinds of fish in the ocean, and herring is one of them."
"Of all kinds," asked Fievel.
"Yes," said Papa, "small fish, not so small fish, big fish like this ship."
"Really," asked Fievel, "let's go up to see the fish!"
Papa chuckled over Fievel's enthusiasm, but knew that he shouldn't be out here for long.  "Not now.  Your mum is concerned," said Papa before seeing Fievel run off elsewhere, "come back, Fievel."
Back with the other immigrant mice, they remained sitting in their places, waiting to arrive in America, though it was yet a long roads away.  "Oh, what am I going to do with you," a mother mouse scolded her wandering daughter, "you stay closer to home.  Don't run away again."
Nearby, Fievel appeared before Mama, who was tending to Yasha again.  "Mum," he said emotionally.
"Ah, then we go back, huh," asked Mama humorously.
"We saw some fish," said Fievel.
"Fish," asked Mama as Fievel climbed up to her, "lucky you haven't seen some cats."
Suddenly, all the mice stopped what they were doing upon hearing Mama mention cats.  "CHATS," exclaimed a mouse.
"GATOS," asked another mouse.
"GATTI," excalimed another family.
"KATZEN," everyone exclaimed simultaneously as Papa appeared, having eventually caught up with Fievel.
"I didn't see any cats," said Fievel, not hesitant in the slightest.
Upon hearing this, everyone sighed with relief.  "Wouldn't it be nice to get to America, where we won't have to worry about cats anymore," Papa asked his fellow mice, "there are no cats in America," before getting serious and reminiscing about times of old back in Russia, "but back home in Mother Nature."
Papa: Our family was traveling through the snow of Minsk
Suddenly, Papa saw these huge footprints
If I heard him shrieking, I fainted dead away
And I woke up an orphan, oi vey
Everyone gasped upon hearing this, instantly feeling sympathy for the father mouse, but Papa had something else to say.  "But…"
"BUT…"
All the mice: BUT THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!
AND THE STREETS ARE PAVED WITH CHEESE!!
BUT THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!!!
THEN SET YOUR MIND AT EASE!!!!
While the mice danced and sang, Mrs. Brisby stayed silent, listening to her song, but feeling uneasy.
"But the horrible thing that exists in my homeland," an Italian mouse spoke to his fellow mice, "if you think pigs were bad in Russia, you should see pigs in my country!"
Italian Mouse: The times were hard in Italy, we had no provolone
The Don, he was a tabby, with a taste for my brother Tony
As Mum went to plead for him, the Don said he would see her
We found her rotiserrie on the ground…my poor heavens!
Some of the other mice fainted in shock over hearing this story, but like Papa before him, the Italian mouse's mood changed in an instant.
Italian Mouse: But…
All the mice: BUT THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!
AND THE STREETS ARE PAVED WITH CHEESE!!
BUT THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!!!
THEN SET YOUR MIND AT EASE!!!!
The mice continued their song and stories.  "Surely that's mournful, but tearfully yet," said an Irish mouse.
Irish Mouse: If I was but a lad, I lost my true love fair
A calico, he caught us by surprise......in a flash of teeth and fur
Her tail was all he left for her, underneath the heather
Is where it turra-lurra lies
"But…" the Irish mouse said, changing his mood as well.
All the mice: BUT THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!
AND THE STREETS ARE PAVED WITH CHEESE!!
BUT THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!!!
THEN SET YOUR MIND AT EASE!!!!
OH, THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!!!!!
OH, THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICAAHHHH!!!!
THAT IS WHY...WE SAIL…THESE SEEEEEEEAAAS!!!
As the song roared to its conclusion, a window swiftly closed.
Later that night, a hurricane drizzled down on the ship.  Lightning flashed in the heavens as the rain came down hard.  Some areas of the ship had water from the ocean flowing around, leaving the immigrants cold and wet.  In the mouse hole, two mice played a game of checkers as the boat rocked back and forth with the ocean inside.  In a teacup nearby, a trio of young mice hung on, getting nauseous from the rocking of the boat.  They rode the cup as it stopped near another young mouse, who was munching on a piece of cheese.  "Hi, guys," he said, "do you want a bite?"
Already sick to their stomachs and not really hungry, the trio gagged as they tried hanging in there, before eventually fainting.  As for the human immigrants, they were attempting to keep warm as well.  As one human opened up a boiler, a little ember rolled out and rolled towards the Mousekewitz family.  They also didn't like where this voyage was going and were in serious discouragement.  "Oh, it's the end of the world," said Mama as she tended to Yasha.
"No, it's worse," said Papa as two mice rolled their ember away for themselves, only for the ember to roll away from them as well.
"Don't give up hope," said Martin, "we'll reach America and this'll all just be a memory."
The ember rolled off towards a different section of the boat, giving one human some big scratches after he incidentally slashed on it.  Not far away, Fievel was also trying to keep himself warm with his embers.  He kept his bottom near one ember, but the ship rocked in his direction, causing the ember roll into him and make him yelp.  The waving water swept him up and carried him to and from the sides of the ship.  He caught hold of a tiny brick of soap, surrounded by a bubble as the water swept him toward his family.  "Fievel," said Papa, "Fievel, come sit here."
"Yes, Dad."
But before Fievel could join his family, the water gently swept him off from the family, taking him to a different room.  "Fievel," asked Papa as he noticed his sudden disappearance.
"Now where did he go," asked Teresa.
But with the water swaying back and forth in the ship, Fievel rode on his bar of soap as it was carried by the water to different parts of the ship.  He gasped upon seeing that it was going to some kitchen utensils and cleaning items, one of which was a sharp knife that headed straight for Fievel's direction.  It hit the soap, but Fievel didn't get hit.  He narrowly got out of the road as the knife cut off a tiny piece of the soap, before suddenly getting swept down one direction.  He smashed into the water barrel and was swept right onto it.  The doorway leading to outside was banging with the hurricane wind as more water started flowing inside.  Lightning flashed as Fievel got on the stairway and proceeded upwards toward the exit, but as soon as he did this, a huge wave of water came rolling in.  He took shelter underneath the stairs as two fish were swept into the boat, flopping around wildly.  He looked upon the flopping fish before turning back to the doorway again.  "Fish," he said.
"Fievel," called Papa from nearby, "Fievel!"
Hearing his father's voice, but turning back to the doorway, Fievel smirked before taking his hat.  "Fievel," called Papa again.
"I'm going to get my hat, Daddy," said Fievel before tossing his hat towards the doorway like a frisbee.
The wind caught the hat and flew it outside as Fievel started going after it.  "FIEVEL," cried Papa as he appeared below, with Martin and Teresa right behind him, "Fievel, come back!"
"My hat," exclaimed Fievel as he rushed outside.
"Please, wait," exclaimed Papa as he frantically tried rushing after him.
"Stay here, Teresa, I'll be right back," said Martin as he rushed after Fievel as well.
Teresa hung onto one of the railings as the water swayed around her feet, but with the intensity of the storm rising by the moment, she looked at Martin as he and Papa rushed after Fievel and felt intense concern growing inside her.  Back with Fievel, he reached the doorway but upon looking outside, he saw the intense storm and was jaw-dropped.  There was a lot of rain coming down hard, lightning flashing in the heavens, thunder booming threateningly and many fish flopping onboard.  "FIEVEL, STOP," cried Papa, "STOP!!"
No longer curious, Fievel was ready to go back inside, but before he could muster, his hat blew outside, causing the boy to rush after it.  As soon as he got it through, a wave smashed down on him and swept him off from the door.  "DAD," cried Fievel as he coughed and hung onto a rope.
Suddenly, Martin appeared and caught hold of Fievel, shielding him from the cold and rain.  "Hang on, kiddo," he said as he tried to get back to safety.
As he attempted to get Fievel back to safety, Papa appeared near the doorway and saw the storm coming down hard on them both.  "FIEVEL," he exclaimed, "DON'T MOVE!!"
Seeing Papa nearby, Martin, holding Fievel's hand, attempted to get back to him, but with the slippery ground, that was not very easy.  They tripped as they attempted to reach the father as he held onto a rope himself to avoid getting swept off.  "DAD," cried Fievel.
"CATCH MY HAND," exclaimed Papa as he extended his hand outwards.
"DAD, HEEELLLPPP," cried Fievel, terrified.
"ALMOST THERE," cried Martin as he held onto Fievel while trying to reach for Papa.
"TAKE MY HAND," exclaimed Papa again before barely catching hold of Martin's hand.
But Papa's grip wasn't strong enough and Martin's hand slipped out.  But as it seemed Martin and Fievel were done for, Teresa suddenly appeared and caught Martin's wrist while catching Papa's hand, preventing her friends from being swept off.  "NOW I'VE GOT YOU," she cried, "DON'T LET GO!!"
"TERESA, WATCH OUT," exclaimed Martin upon seeing another big wave coming towards them.
Suddenly, the wave smashed on them all, separating Fievel and Martin from Teresa and Papa.  "FIEVEL," cried Papa.
Fievel shrieked as he rode on one of the flopping fish as he and Martin were taken far from their loved ones.  Papa and Teresa watched in horror as the two were being taken away by the violent waters.  But while this was horrifying enough for them both, Teresa suddenly remembered what just happened if they were in the dinosaur realm, where Martin attempted to save her from Sharptooth's attack and the earthquake.  Remembering how he fell into the underground during that mission, and seeing how he was likely to fall overboard here, Teresa gasped before swiftly rushing after the two.  "WAIT, STOP," cried Papa, trying to prevent Teresa from rushing into the stormy waters as well, only to be ignored.
Back with Fievel and Martin, they were swept underwater and were almost flushed out of the boat, but Martin, with Fievel yet in his grasp, swam with all his might to outswim the intense current and get back above water.  He managed to get out of the current and onto some floating objects that were being swept with the water as well.  Jumping from item to item in a desperate attempt to get back to safety, Martin frantically searched for a possible means of getting away from the dangerous waters.  After jumping on a tiny plank, he jumped onto a rope leading to the overhead watch post, only to get suddenly swept by another wave.  But just as it seemed they were going to go overboard, Teresa appeared and swiftly caught Martin's hand while holding onto the overhead rope.  The winds carried the rope back onto the ship as Maritn noticed Teresa attempting to climb further up the rope, only for her grip to slip a little.  "TERESA," exclaimed Martin.
"I'M…NOT…LETTING GO...THIS…TIME," cried Teresa as she attempted to hang on.
But as it seemed the situation couldn't get any worse, Fievel spotted a huge wave coming right towards them and shrieked.  This wave looked like some monster of sorts and it terrified Fievel out of his skin.  The wave pounded the ship as Fievel, Martin and Teresa shrieked for their lives.  "Fievel," cried Papa, attempting to get to his feet, "come back!"
But the huge wave kept pounding on the ship as Teresa attempted to hang on.  Fievel coughed as he kept holding onto Martin.  "DAD, HEEEELP," he shrieked.
Fievel, Martin and Teresa watched in full horror as the wave charged towards them at complete force.  Fievel hid his face in Martin's chest as Teresa, unwilling to have them get hit, tried to fling them back onboard, but it was no use.  The wave hit the ship once again, with Teresa taking a huge hit from the wave and causing her to lose her grip.  The trio was sent flying overboard into the rough ocean below.  Fievel and Martin shrieked before landing underwater with Teresa.  "FIEVEL," shrieked Papa as he held onto his ropes, who growled in frustration before shouting out an enraged "MARTIN!  TERESA!!"
This yell was so loud that it echoed across the ocean.  Back with the trio, Martin kept holding onto Fievel as he attempted to get to the surface.  As he did though, he noticed Teresa, having been knocked unconscious by the wave, sinking into the dark sea below.  Unwilling to let her drown, he swiftly dove after her and caught hold of her, but now he had two friends to get above water now, and this started to wear him out.  He kicked his feet to get to the surface as fast as he could, but it was very hard doing so.  Fievel tried kicking his feet in the water to get out, but even with that, they weren't getting to the surface fast.  Out of options, but reluctant about letting go of Fievel, Martin flung him upwards, allowing him to take in air and cough out water.  This allowed Martin to eventually break out the surface himself and get Teresa above water as well.  But the damage had already been done.  The three of them were overboard and the currents and winds were carrying them off from their loved ones.  They attempted to stay above water as they were swept off by the raging stormy waters.  "DAD," cried Fievel, hearing the furious father mouse shout their names.
"GUYS," cried Martin as he watched the ship disappear from his view while holding onto Teresa, "NO!  ROCKO!!  ROCKO!!!  GUYS!!!!  COME BACK," he yelled, only to see the ship disappear from behind the waves, "...don't go."
At last, after a long, dangerous trek across the Atlantic Ocean, the ship eventually reached its destination: North America. Stopping at the Erie Eisenbahn dock, the immigrants onboard slowly got off and walked in line to be documented and observed by the American officials. Inside the Eisenbahn building, the immigrants were documented and gave their names to the officials. “America,” said one of the immigrants.
“No, no, New York.”
“Name,” asked an official.
“Smovolodny-Dhromovichsky."
“Alright, Mr. Smith,” replied the official as he wrote down the name for the immigrant.
Just below the humans, the mice walked aboard the ship and headed into the building to be documented by the American mice. The Mousekowitz family stood at the official’s desk, being documented and given permission to go into the country. For the family, they were both stuck in severe depression, for the voyage had taken apart of their loved one. “Family Mousekowitz,” said the official as he wrote the family’s name on paper, “how many?”
“Five,” replied Papa somberly before remembering the loss of Fievel and mournfully correcting himself, “I mean four.”
“Alright. Next!”
Tears swelled up in Papa’s eyes as he remembered Fievel and how he failed in trying to save him. “Papa, why did they change my name to Tilly,” Tanya asked her mournful father, only to get no response.
Meanwhile, several miles apart from the coast, a lone plastic bottle slowly floated above the water surface. This bottle slowly floated its road toward the coast, where inside the bottle, some water swayed inside from side to side. But inside this bottle was something else totally. It was Fievel, beaten up from the rough waters in exhaustion, but most reluctantly, alive. Fievel spotted something far off in the distance, but it was too blurry to comprehend. It looked like a tall tower of sorts above some facts that looked like trees, off in the distance with the dark orange heavens in the background.
At last, the bottle washed closer and closer to the distance where, to their immense relief, was land. The problem though was they yet didn’t know where they were. The moving waves washed the bottle onto a high platform of land, where it settled down, allowing the mouse to stop swaying as rapidly. As he pulled himself together, a giant pigeon with a black hat and red bow flew onto the bottle, observing the tired and wet mouse. “What is this,” he chuckled, “ah, a little immigrant. Now, they are coming by bottle?”
"Well, Henri," said Fievel, "you tried to sell me a stolen McDonald's happy meal?"
“Uh, where is your papa,” chuckled Henri the pigeon humorously, who then noticed the mournful Fievel, “your mama, right?”
“I don’t know. They were on the boat to America,” said Fievel as he looked up at the friendly pigeon.
“Ah, then you are in luck, my little immigrant,” replied Henri, “this is America.”
Fievel, curious about where he washed up to, climbed a small metal post to get a better look around. “America,” he said, “I thought it was bigger.”
“Oh, that is bigger,” said Henri as he showed Fievel around, “all of that is also America.”
“Wow,” replied Fievel.
“This is just an island at the doorway, where I, Henri le Pigeon, am putting up my Statue of Liberty,” said Henri as he had a view of the horizon as well.
Although the statue was incomplete, he could warn that they were in America, and therefore felt a big sense of relief and awe. “That's better,” said Henri.
Henri took the young mouse to a high point in the statue, where he nursed Fievel back to health by giving him a clean bath. Henri tended to the young mouse. Being separated from his family and having no clue of how to find them, Fievel was in despair. “I know, my little immigrant,” said Henri, “you want to find your family, and you will.”
“But how,” asked Fievel, “it’s so far away, and it’s so big....I’ll never find them anyhow.”
Henri walked up to Fievel and dried him away with a towel and had something to say about the situation himself. “But did you say ‘never?’ So young and you have lost hope. Ah, this is America, the place to find hope. If you give up, you will never find your family,” said Henri as he put Fievel’s clothes on the mouse, “then...never...say...never. Say...”
Henri: Never say never, whatever you do
Never say never, my friend
“Henri...”
Henri took Fievel up into the Statue of Liberty and guided him inside, all while he continued his motivational speak with the mouse.
Henri: Ah, shut up
If you believe that your dreams will come true
They’ll come true in the end
“But I...”
Henri: Nah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Keep up your courage, don’t ever despair
Take heart and then count to ten
Hope for the best, work for the rest
And never say never again
Despite this inspirational song, Fievel was yet pessimistic. “Aw, but it’s impossible! I’ll never find my family,” he said.
“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” replied Henri, refusing to let the little mouse fall into despair, “never say never. now, say that. Go ahead!”
Fievel: Never say never
Henri: Whatever you do! Again!
Fievel: Never say never
Henri: To me. See how easy?
If you believe you can come shining through
Fievel: That’s...that’s how it’s gonna be
“IT'S PERFECT,” rejoiced Henri, happy that Fievel was regaining his spirit.
Suddenly, three female pigeons, most likely friends of Henri’s, flew down and helped Henri in motivating the mouse.
The two: Now don’t you go and give up, give out or give in
If the going’s rough, just get rough and just warn yourself
You’re gonna win
Henri: Remember to look on the bright side till then
And never...say never...again!
By now, Henri had taken the mouse to the top of the statue, allowing him to get a nice look of the city and what awaited him. This motivational song from the pigeon had left a big impact on him and he felt ready to take on the challenge ahead. “Now are you ready to go and find your family,” asked Henri.
“Yes,” replied Fievel happily.
“Chantal,” called Henri to one of his fellow pigeons.
One of the female pigeons came flying in, landing near Fievel and allowing him to climb on her back. “Take my little friend to immigration. You will find your family there. Everyone goes through immigration. I would take you there myself, but then I would never complete my statue,” said Henri as he looked at the statue.
“Henry, you said never,” said Fievel humorously.
“Oh, then I did,” chuckled Henri before having a fast laugh with the mouse.
Henri: Never...say never...
Both two: NEVER...SAY NEVER!
NEVER...SAY NEVEEEEEEEERRR...AGAIN!!
With that said, Chantal took off, with Fievel on her back. Henri stayed on the statue and waved a farewell to the mouse. “FAREWELL! GOOD LUCK!! GODSPEED,” exclaimed Henri to his new friend as they flew away on Chantal’s back.
“Farewell,” replied Fievel, ready to find his family.
Meanwhile, on the coast of NYC, at the Immigration Commission building, the immigrants from the ship were gathering around outside, waiting to be called in and registered to vote. They stood in lines that slowly, but surely headed towards the entrance. Other ships with immigrants reached the coast and the immigrants came out to meet others. The activity here was slow, but restless. 
“C'mon, keep it moving. Keep it moving. Alright.”
“Hurry up! Hurry up!”
“Yes, sir! Step off the boat and into prosperity.”
Below their feet, the same activity was going on with the mice. Immigrants were gathering around while the American mice welcomed them to the country. “Welcome, greenhorns,” said a real estate agent, “this is America.”
“Today’s special, the Brooklyn Bridge, just a dollar,” said a mouse as he gestured toward a sign with prices on going over the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Golly, the Brooklyn Bridge,” said a mouse child.
“Ticket to Chicago,” said a mouse who was selling tickets to Chicago, “used only once.”
“Wow!”
“Gee whiz. Only once, Ma!”
“Apple, apple, get my apple while it lasts,” said an apple seller, “hurry up, it’s going fast.”
“I’ll take one.”
As this activity outside went on, in an old, smoky suitcase, one person was busy with his own activity. A rat, wearing a red jacket with a black top hat, was counting his coins. “Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one,” he said before blowing on his cigar.
But this rat wasn’t the only person in this small area. In the pocket of his red jacket, a tiny cockroach came out, coughing out all the smelly air that was coming from the cigar. “Would you please put out that filthy fact,” he coughed, “I’m suffocating down here.”
“You don’t like it? Hey, you know you’re not the only cockroach in New York City. There are millions of roaches who’d give their left leg to work for Warren T. Rat,” said Warren T. as he blew some of the smoke and tapped some of the dust from the cigar onto the roach.
“Sure. Fire me,” said Digit, the roach, “I’m fed up with that filthy smoke.”
“Hey.”
“And this pocket,” added Digit as he dove into the pocket and threw out all the stuff in it, using a black jack card to shield himself from the cigar smoke, “I’ve seen kitchen stoves cleaner than this place.”
“Hey, c'mon.”
“Look at my suit,” complained Digit.
“OK, that's it, Digit, alright,” said Warren T., stopping Digit’s ranting, “hey, how much money did we make today?”
Digit swiftly dove into Warren T.’s pile of coins and counted all the money made in a rush. “Oh, oh, well, well, let’s see,” he said as some electricity zapped on his antennae, “uh, seven, nine, four, six, carry on, drop two, uh...take five, five down, seven up, 98.6.....”
“Yes, yes, that's it, and two plus two is 22,” replied Warren T., annoyed and impatient before catching Digit by the antennae, “what did we make? What’s the boodle?”
“Oh, so far we have collected eighty-nine dollars and,” replied Digit frantically before getting a shock again, “and thirteen cents. Whoops, and we’ll get another seventeen from Moe. Uh, that’s fifty cents less than yesterday.”
“WHAT,” asked Warren T., shocked while Digit flew back to keep his distance, “fifty cents?! I hate to lose money. Huh...where can I pick up an extra fifty cents?”
Nearby, Chantal, having flown Fievel a long distance from the Statue of Liberty, landed on the suitcase and gently let the mouse off her back. “Farewell,” said Fievel.
“Au revoir, my little immigrant,” said Chantal before flying away.
As Chantal flew off though, the breeze being blown from her flapping wings blew Fievel apart and towards a hole leading to inside the suitcase. He landed on a cushion as Warren T. and Digit swiftly took notice of his unexpected appearance. “Hey, boss, a boy,” said Digit.
Warren T. blew his cigar and took notice of Fievel himself. “You know, Moe can always use an extra boy at fifty cents a day.”
“Yes,” replied Warren T., having an idea, “very interesting.”
"Well, Warren T.," said Fievel, "you tried to sell me a stolen Sears store?"
“Ahem,” said Warren T., “well, well, well. Rat’s the name. Warren T. Rat. What have I done to you, boy?”
“I’m looking for my family,” said Fievel, willing to accept any help he could.
“Hey, you come to the right fellow, boy,” said Warren T. as he started walking outside, “I know exactly where they are, come with me.”
“But Henri said I’d find them here,” said Fievel.
“Have it your way, boy,” said Warren T. before walking away, “but remember what Shakespeare said, and I quote, ‘opportunity knocks, but...uh...” he said, trying to remember.
“Psst,” whispered Digit from Warren T.’s hat, “once.”
“But, but, but once. Taken at the tide, it will lead to fortune. If denied, it will never return,” said Warren T.
“Do you really know where my family is,” asked Fievel, hopeful.
Warren T. chuckled as he patted Fievel on the back. “Trust me, boy. Trust me.”
Fievel walked alongside the rat, frowning at Warren T., with intense suspicion. He turned back at the suitcase and, smelling the smoky smoke from the cigar, he followed after the rat, not liking where this was going, despite his desire to reunite with each other as well.
Meanwhile, at a different part of NYC, the Mousekowitz family was yet mourning over Fievel’s loss. Having already set up shelter in a high building, they were attempting to get through their tragedy. Despite the somber atmosphere, Tanya had a feeling that made her hopeful. “Mama, I keep having this feeling...that Fievel’s alive,” she said.
“Tanya...it will go away,” said Mama, consoled with depression, “after a while.....it will go away.”
Tanya climbed up a platform, getting a brief view of the city.
Unbeknownst to them though, Fievel was actually on ground level. Guided by Warren T., they walked inside the tower. “Come with me,” he said before seeing Fievel curiously go into a basket elevator, “hey, hey, hey, don’t break a gut there.”
The mouse got into the elevator and it slowly went up and up, higher into the tower. “Oh, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of Earth, that I am meek and gentle with these butchers.”
“This is where they are,” said Warren T. before the elevator stopped at one level and opened a door.
“Papa,” exclaimed Fievel happily.
But all Fievel was met with was someone caught his shirt and swiftly pulling him inside, giving him an alarm. He suddenly found himself face-to-face with a huge, muscular rat with a cigar in his mouth and laughing hideously. This was certainly not Papa, and seeing him frighten Fievel. “Not bad, right, Moe,” asked Warren T., “a new worker.”
“What about my family,” asked Fievel.
“You don’t need a family, boy, you found a job here,” said Warren T. as he was ready to make his exit, “just send me his salary, will ya?”
With that said, Warren T. locked the door shut, locking it. “Nah-ah-ah, boy,” he said before seeing Fievel trying to get out of the room, “and where do you think you’re going?”
Fievel tried running away, but Moe swiftly caught him with his available hand. “You’re mine! NOW GET TO WORK,” he shouts to him before throwing him to the other mice that are being treated like slaves.
The mice scurried in fright of the giant rat. “YOU!! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?! BACK TO WORK,” he shouts to one of the mice carrying some clothes.
Later that night, inside one of the rooms of the building, the many mice slept, trying to recover from the harsh day of slavery-like fashions. Fievel was alongside these mice, but sleep was the last fact on his mind. “I wanna get outta here,” he said.
Fievel wasn’t the only mouse awake and desiring to escape. An older mouse with black hair and a city accent lay on his bunk bed, just above Fievel, agreed with the young mouse. “You and me both,” he said.
“I have to find my family,” added Fievel.
“Oh, shut up,” said one of the mice, letting some sleep, “go to sleep.”
“Pipe down,” said another mouse.
“Ah, be silent.”
Fievel peeked out from the window, seeing that he was on a tall tower and chances of escaping were rough, but he had a plan in mind. “I wish we had that mouse with long hair,” he said before tying some blankets together like a rope, “she could drop her hair out the window, and we can all climb down.”
“Sure, out the window,” said one of the mice sarcastically.
“Oh, fairy tales,” said another mouse with the same attitude.
The city-accented mouse, however, thought this had potential. “Wait a moment. This boy may have something,” he said before extending his hand for a handshake, “Tony Toponi’s the name. Put it there, uh...”
“Fievel...Fievel Mousekewitz,” said Fievel as he lowered the blanket rope to ground level.
“Fievel,” asked Tony, surprised, “oh, that name must go! Hey, I’ll warn you what....Fillie!”
“Fillie,” chuckled Fievel as he carried a pile of the blanket rope closer to the window.
“Yes, fits you perfect,” said Tony as Fievel caught the rope and slowly slid down. “Hey, Fillie, you have any idea where your family is,” asked Tony as he was ready to make his leave, only to see that Fievel had now run away upon reaching ground level, “Fillie! FILLIE MOUSEKEWITZ!!”
“Fillie,” asked Bridget, looking under rocks, “huh, not here either.” 
“HEY, FILLIE,” called Tony again, only to get no response.
This yell was so loud that it echoed across the puddles. Having escaped Moe and back on the streets of New York City, Fievel was once again on his quest to find his family. Unfortunately, since his asking of Warren T. for help did not go so well, and with him now separated, Fievel had no idea where to go next. After sitting near a tiny puddle for a short while, Fievel began walking away, ignoring some of the constant choruses of choirs singing nearby. At some point, he noticed a gathering of young mice inside a schoolhouse of sorts, pledging their allegiance to the United States flag. Feeling left out, lonesome and knowing that his family was not there, he somberly walked away to resume his search. As he proceeded onward, he heard someone call out, “FIEVEL!!”
Slowly turning hopeful, he rushed toward the source of the sound, only to find a mother mouse shouting for one of her children whom had the same name as the lost mouse. “FIEVEL,” she called before her missing son showed up.
The family went inside as the mother turned to her little runaway and said, “what am I going to do with you,” before going into the house with him, “c'mon. Come, little ones, eat. Don’t gobble so hard.”
As they went inside, the mother incidentally dropped a small bit of her cheese. Hungry, Fievel walked toward the tiny piece, but before he could eat it, a hungry rat showed up and shooed Fievel apart. “Back, back, mine...”
Fievel’s search took him to other places around the city. He tried his luck searching for his family from overhead train tracks. Mournfully, he didn’t find any trace of his family there either, but this was also a very dangerous spot to look. A large train came barreling its road down the track, going straight over Fievel while doing so. Fievel didn’t get hit by the sudden train showing up, but its fast movement and sparks flying from its wheels frightened the living daylights out of the poor mouse. “AAHHHH,” he cried before losing his balance and falling apart one of the wooden planks.
The train drove away in a fast rush as some of the smoke from the locomotive’s funnel slowly flew to the ground. Fievel, having tried holding onto one of the metal bars, lost his grip and landed in a big pile of ash, sliding off the pile before stopping at the bottom. Relieved to be out of danger, but spooked badly, the young mouse coughed before looking up at where he came from with a mournful look. Despair started overwhelming him as he resumed his walk. Not only was his family nowhere to be seen, but also this environment was very dangerous, especially for someone of his age to be out on his own. He walked away before hearing a familiar sound. It sounded like a violin, and this reminded Fievel of Papa and how he would play his violin. “Papa,” he said before turning hopeful, “Papa!”
He looked up and saw the violin music coming from a building overhead. “Papa,” he exclaimed before rushing towards the building with determination.
However, he had to cross a road in order to get there, and once he got on the road, he was barely crushed by the hooves of horses pulling a carriage. “GRAND AND HESTER STREETS,” announced a conductor.
Fortunately, Fievel managed to make it to the other side safely. Using several hanging ropes and awnings, he reached the floor of the building where he heard the violin music. Tired, but happy to have made it there, he got into the building and called out to his father. “Here, Papa! Here I am!”
But he didn’t get a response. He climbed into the room and saw a large record player while overhearing some laughter inside. He climbed into the record player, but yet found no trace of Papa. “Papa? Are you there,” he asked silently.
Mournfully, this was not the case for poor Fievel. His ears dropped as he sniffled in despair before sitting down, as if he was about to weep. Unbeknownst to him however, a human woman put in a disc for the record player and a blast of music came out, taking Fievel by surprise. The shaking tube of the player shook around and caused Fievel to slide down it, straight towards the playing disc. He landed on the track that was playing the music, but in the attempt to get off, the music started going haywire. The women nearby noticed Fievel and freaked out. “Oh, my word, A MOUSE!!” 
As Fievel got himself off the track, he noticed the women trying to throw facts at him to get him out. One woman threw a ball of yarn at him as he frantically rushed to escape. The women kept throwing stuff at the little mouse as he rushed towards a window. A thrown dress caused Fievel to lose his balance and plummet from the big height. “WHAT’S GOING ON UP THERE,” asked a furious man nearby, “HEY, SHUT UP!!!!!”
“WHAT’S GOING ON UP THERE,” asked a woman nearby, hearing the confusion as well.
Luckily for Fievel, he landed in a sock hanging from an awning and this reduced his falling speed drastically, but he fell through a hole in the sock and fell once again. However, upon falling out of the sock, he managed to catch a tiny cloth which he held onto like a parachute. He slowly descended to the ground, landing in a small bucket that was being used by a maid. Oblivious to Fievel landing in the bucket, she dumped the bucket’s contents out, sending Fievel and a few pieces of junk sliding out with the water inside. Fievel floated into an alleyway, saddened that he once again failed in trying to find his family.
But as Fievel wallowed in his despair, someone noticed his presence and unlike the humans who frightened Fievel away, he was happy to have eventually found him. Sitting at the top of a sign on a lamppost and eating some cheese, Tony chuckled upon seeing the young mouse yet alive. He let out a whistle, getting Fievel’s attention before sliding down the post. “Hey, Fillie,” he said, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Tony chuckled as he got to ground level, meeting up with the young mouse. “Pardon the expression, but you look like something the cat dragged in, you know,” he said before taking some food from a nearby mousetrap, “hey, you alright?”
“Yes, I guess so,” replied Fievel, mournful that his family hadn’t been found yet.
“What,” asked Tony before turning to Fievel and calmly saying, “listen, you go running away like that, and you’re gonna get yourself seriously lost. Stick with me, alright?”
Happy that Tony was willing to lend his support, Fievel hugged his arm, but Tony, not a fan of hugs, swiftly got himself out of Fievel’s hug and said, “hey, hey, hey, hey, what are we? Engaged or something? Sheesh.”
Meanwhile, back with the Mousekewitz family, Papa and Tanya were getting themselves ready for a grocery run. Papa was yet mournful about losing Fievel, but Tanya was yet hopeful that he was out there somewhere. “Why can’t we try to find Fievel, Papa,” asked Tanya, “just try.”
“Oh...” replied Papa, unwilling to try out of depression.
“I know, Papa, play your violin,” suggested Tanya, “play Fievel’s song. Perhaps he’ll hear it.”
“You can’t find what’s not there,” said Papa as they headed outside.
Following the Mousekewitz family out of the household, they were unaware that their friend was actually just mere yards apart. Right above them, walking down a small wooden plank, Tony led Fievel down a pathway, having a plan on how to help them out. “OK, that's it, I had it all figured out,” said Tony, “we’ll start looking for your family over in...”
Suddenly, Tony stopped mid-sentence upon spotting something through a wooden hole nearby. This one, however, was a female mouse with an Irish accent and wearing a green dress. She stood above a group of mice in a marketplace-like fashion, trying to give a motivational speech. “This is America,” she said, “don’t be afraid. Are you going to let these cats push you around?”
Awestruck by this beautiful mouse, Tony started getting closer to her, ignoring Fievel. “Tony,” asked Fievel as he watched him slide to ground level, “hey Tony, where you going?”
But Tony ignored the mouse as he proceeded towards Bridget, the Irish mouse. “I ask you this; are we gonna stand side-by-side and let cats wreck our homes, our businesses and our lives? If we all got together, we could do something about the cats,” said Bridget to the mice.
“Yes,” said Tony, yet awestruck, “we should all get together.”
“This is America,” said Bridget to the mice, unaware of Tony’s presence, “we have free speech. You can say ‘cat’ here.”
The mention of that word caused the mice to gasp in shock. “Cat, cat, cat, and double cat,” continued Bridget.
“Csendes, not so loud.”
“They’ll hear you.”
“Please, not that word.”
Overwhelmed with concern, the mice started to leave. “Wait a moment,” said Bridget, not letting them go, “come back! Where are you going?”
But the mice ignored her and left. The only mice yet there were Tony and Fievel. Tony reached Bridget’s platform with a flower, and upon noticing him with the flower, Bridget grinned, flattered, and not caring if the flower was upside down. She chuckled at the mouse as Tony looked at her with a big grin. “W-Well...if we all found together, we could do something about...the...cats,” said Bridget, in awe of Tony.
“Y-Yes...cat...ca...”
“Cat,” concluded Bridget as she kept grinning at Tony.
Tony tried muttering out another sentence, but he was too awestruck to even speak. As for Fievel, he tried to get Tony’s attention by pulling on his scarf, but he lost his grip. This sent Tony flying forwards and causing him and Bridget to kiss. The two chuckled as Fievel tried getting in between the two lovers. “Tony,” he said, “Tony, what’s wrong with you?”
But Fievel was once again ignored. Tony and Bridget took each other’s arms, as Fievel slowly started leaving the two to themselves. The two mice got on each other’s knees, but before they could do something else, Fievel replied, “but there are no cats in America.”
Suddenly, the mice started leaving once again. “That does it. I’m getting out of here.”
“Me as well.”
“What are you all afraid of? Cats, cats, cats, cats,” said Fievel as he got on a concession stand, unaware that a large shadow was approaching the area, “Papa warned me, and everyone knows it, there are no cats.”
Suddenly, behind Fievel, something grabbed onto the refreshment stand and lifted it high. Taken by surprise, Fievel looked behind him, but before he knew it, he was met face-to-face with something huge roaring in his face and chomping down the entire stand, taking Fievel with it. This sudden action frightened Teresa, and to her bigger horror, it was a large cat. “FIEVEL,” she shrieked.
Suddenly, another cat appeared behind Teresa and caught her with his paw. “NOW I'VE GOT YOU,” he shouts, “just as the boss wanted!”
“AAHHHH,” shrieked Teresa as she looked upon the massive feline and his sharp teeth, “MARTIN!!”
“TERESA,” cried Martin, caught off guard by the sudden attacks.
Martin jumped down from where the alarmed Tony and Bridget were and charged towards the cat. He jumped into the air and attacked the huge feline’s face with a double tiger claw strike. This caused the cat to let go of Teresa, allowing her to back off in full fright. But this cat wasn’t alone. More and more cats appeared on the scene, frightening the mice and sending them into a sheer panic. While some cats started attacking the mice, some looked at the two mice with devious smiles. “WE’VE HAD THEM NOW!!”
As for Fievel, he was yet trapped in the mouth of the cat that swallowed the apple slice stand. The saliva spilled down the mouth and into the throat, taking Fievel with it. Frightened, but unwilling to go down the esophagus, Fievel frantically ran up the throat and caught hold onto the uvula. He swung off it and attempted to get out of the mouth. Alarmed by something trying to get out of his mouth, the cat opened up and spat out the little mouse. Out of the mouth, but yet in danger, Fievel frantically ran to find a place to hide for shelter. The other mice ran for dear lives as the felines ran amok, destroying the stands, smashing through anything in their path and frowning hungrily at the mice. Some cats caught a few mice while others pounced on other groups of mice, narrowly missing them. As the attack went on, Martin and Teresa were frantically dodging every attacker in their road. Martin grasped Teresa’s hand and guided her apart, but the cats charged after them. One cat landed in front of the two mice. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said before swiping at Martin with his paw.
This move sent Martin flying into a wall, apart from Teresa. “MARTIN,” she cried.
“GOT YA NOW,” said one of the cats as he charged towards the frightened girl.
But before they could reach her, Teresa swiftly jumped out of the road, activating the wheels on her shoes and skating off in a frantic rush. The felines chased after her as she fled for dear life. “You can’t escape from us,” said one of the cats.
Back with the Mousekewitz family, they too were having damage with the cats that were ruthlessly attacking them. Back with Teresa, she kept attempting to get away, but the cats kept pursuing her relentlessly. “MARTIN, HEEEEEELLLP,” she shrieked before a cat jumped towards her and caught her with his paw.
“NAH, AH, AH, DARLING,” he exclaimed.
Back with Martin, he slowly started regaining consciousness, but he was suddenly slapped multiple times in the face by Tony. This was enough to awaken him though and he swiftly got to his feet. “Wait, what? Am I dead?”
“You might be if you ain’t careful! WATCH OUT,” cried Tony as he tried getting Martin to safety.
Another cat appeared, charging towards the two, but this time, Martin didn’t run. He got out of Tony’s grasp and stood his ground against the predator. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE,” exclaimed Tony.
Swift as a flash, Martin pulled out his fire-bat and opened fire on the attacker. The lasers hit the surprised feline and caused him to slide on the ground and collide with another that was about to ambush Martin from behind. Jumping out of the road, Martin turned to the other cats that were harming the mice. He rushed into the danger and blasted all the felines with his weapon, swiftly dodging their swiping paws and sharp claws. He blasted the predators apart before spotting Teresa in the grasp of yet another cat. Charging his weapon to complete power, he blasted the cat right in the eye, causing him to let go of Teresa and allow her to run for cover. But Martin was pleased. He jumped onto an overhead platform and continued blasting the attackers. Taken by surprise, and seeing how Martin was effectively fighting his road through, the cats rushed to get away from the frustrated mouse. “RETIREMENT!! RETIREMENT,” one of them shouts.
The cats fled the scene as fast as they could, leaving behind a disheartened marketplace area. The carnage left by the attack was pretty bad. Martin got to ground level and examined the aftermath of this attack. As he did so, he spotted Tony and Bridget slowly peek out of their hiding places. “Hey, you alright,” asked Tony as he approached the mouse, “yes, I mean, you ain’t hurt or nothing, are ya?”
“No, no, I’m alright,” said Bridget as Tony tried helping her out of her hiding place, “thank you. No, really, I’m alright. Really, I am.”
Tony’s efforts, while very hopeful, inadvertently got him and Bridget back in her hiding place. “How about you,” asked Bridget.
“Ah, who do these cats think they are? I’ll show them a fact or two next time,” said Tony, acting brash, before suddenly remembering Fievel, “hey, where’s Fillie?”
“Fillie,” asked Bridget, “who’s Fillie?”
“Oh, I must find him,” said Tony as he looked for his friend.
“He's just a boy,” said Bridget.
“FILLIE,” called Tony from nearby, who was looking for Fievel.
Luckily for Tony, Fievel wasn’t too far apart. Hiding in a tiny box, he peeked out of it and saw that the cats were gone, Tony and Bridget were alive, and it seemed safe to speak up. “Tony,” he whispered.
“Woah,” exclaimed Tony as he swiftly turned around, only to see that Fievel was safe and feel relieved, “phew! Some scrap, right?”
“There are cats here. Wait till I warn Papa,” said Fievel before remembering him and the rest of his family and feeling down, “if I find him.”
“You see, he’s looking for his family,” said Tony to Bridget.
“Oh, the poor darling,” said Bridget, feeling bad for the mouse as she gave Fievel his hat.
Suddenly, an idea burst in Bridget’s mind. “Wait a moment,” she said, “Honest John, at Tammany Hall! He’ll know where your family is.”
“He will,” asked Fievel, emotional.
“Tony, he knows every mouse in the city,” said Bridget to Tony.
“Ha, warned ya to stick with me, right,” said Tony as he started walking away.
Taking Fievel’s hand, Bridget walked away with Tony, heading to Tammany Hall. “C'mon.”
However, what Fievel didn’t know was that the Mousekewitz family, was actually nearby and well. They got themselves out of the carnage, surprised by the cat attack, but alive. “Well, Mr. There-Are-No-Whats-In-America,” a ticked off Mama asked Papa, “huh?”
Embarrassed, Papa hesitantly chuckled, “cats.”
Meanwhile, at Tammany Hall, another meeting was going underway. Settled in the Grand Wake For Mickey O’Hare bar, some mice, both American and immigrants alike, were gathered together as once mouse spoke to some of the patrons. Overweight, bearing a long mustache, wearing a sophisticated, political outfit, and holding a glass of alcoholic beverage, this was Honest John, the local politician in town. He was drinking his beverage while speaking with some of the other authorities of the city. “It’s me third wake today, and I’m not done,” he said.
“We’ve had to do something about them cats,” said a cop.
Honest John concluded his drinking before getting it refilled by one of his colleagues. “Ah, besides paying Warren T. RAT...for no protection,” he said before walking towards a table that unfortunately had a sign of the countless cat attacks that had been going on in recent times, “ah, poor, poor lad. So young, he never had a chance to vote.”
Honest John was referring to the dead body of a young mouse, who mournfully did not survive a cat attack. Despite the tragedy, Honest John pulled out a handbook and wrote the mouse’s name in it, under the list of “Ghost Votes.” “Well he’ll vote from now on,” he said, “I’ll see to that.”
As the activity went on, a door opened up and in came a large mouse, around the same height as Honest John, but this one was much more sophisticated, bared a wig, a red hood and dress, and had a strong German accent. Upon seeing her enter, everyone gasped in alarm. “Honest John,” she said to the politician.
“It’s Gussie Mausheimer,” said one of the mice.
“Oh,” said Honest John upon noticing the woman come inside.
Nearby, Tony and Bridget were in the bar as well, with Fievel in tow. Upon seeing Gussie enter the bar and approach Honest John, Tony stood shocked. “Wowee, the richest mouse in New York,” added Tony, “what’s she doing slumming in this part of town?”
Gussie approached Honest John before noticing the dead mouse on the table and gasping. “There’s a dead mouse on that table,” she said.
“It’s an Irish custom, Gussie,” replied Honest John, not having as much shock or sympathy, “the cats had him today.”
“Exactly why I’m here to see you,” said a not-so-happy Gussie to the politician.
“Would you care for a wee drop of the creature,” asked Honest John, offering Gussie a drink.
Gussie refused and replied, “today was the worst ever. These cats are murdering everyone. They don’t even know the difference between rich and poor. The wretches.”
“Oh, disgraceful,” said Honest John to Gussie.
“As you know, I have dedicated my life to helping these less fortunate than myself,” said Gussie as she walked around the bar, “....that’s everyone. And now, I want you to help me. We must have a pep rally.”
“A nightclub,” asked Honest John, not getting it, “what’s a traffic light?”
“You know, a lamppost; a large gathering of mice for some reason,” said Gussie.
“Oh, a rally,” said Honest John, eventually getting it.
“That’s what I said. A dead end,” said Gussie to Honest John before whacking Honest John’s invading hand with her fan and sighing in disgust, “tomorrow, at Mausheimer Park, we will all decide what to do so. I will bring the uptown mice and you bring the mice from downtown.”
“Madam, you can count on Honest John,” said Honest John as he bowed to the rich mouse.
Gussie, annoyed with Honest John and unsure if he’d comply, scoffed and left the bar, closing the door shut. “At last, we’re all getting together about the cats,” said Bridget to Tony, happy that something was eventually going to be done about the cats.
“Bridget,” asked Fievel, getting their attention.
Suddenly remembering Fievel, Bridget turned to the young mouse. “Oh, Fillie,” she said before getting Honest John’s attention, “Honest John, he’s lost his family. By any chance, do you know the Mousekewitzes?”
Honest John took a brief look at Fievel, seeing that he was a newcomer to the country. “Huh...are they registered to vote,” he asked, unintentionally getting some of his breath from the wine in Fievel’s face.
“They just got off the boat,” replied Bridget.
“Oh. I'm sorry, don’t know them yet,” said Honest John before resuming his drinking.
At last, Fievel was taken to a water tower, where Bridget was residing. Under the complete moonlit night, she had let him settle into home. Fievel was in a large bed near the water just below Bridget. “That’s my mother and father. The cats had them two years ago in November,” she said while showing a past memory, “now don’t you worry, yours are alright, and they’re out there somewhere.”
Fievel looked at the mouse and, despite his yet strong concern of them being gone, slowly nodded yes with a sigh. “Now...get some sleep,” said Bridget as she blew a kiss toward the mouse.
As for Fievel, he listened to the two mice speak and looked out the window as well. Mournful that he didn’t find his family yet, but knowing that he had Tony and Bridget past his side, and remembering Henri’s words about never giving up and holding onto whatever hope he yet had, he thought of his family.
Fievel: Somewhere...out there
Underneath the pale moonlight
Someone’s thinking of me
And loving me tonight
Meanwhile, at the Mousekewitz household, the family had fallen asleep for the evening. Tanya, however, wasn’t asleep yet. She, as well, was holding onto the hope that Fievel was out there somewhere and that somehow, they’d be reunited.
Tanya: Somewhere...out there
Someone’s saying a prayer
That we’ll find one another
In that big somewhere out there
And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star
Fievel: And if the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we’re sleeping underneath the same big sky
Both: Somewhere...out there
If love can see us through
Then we’ll be together
Somewhere out there....out where our dreams....come truuuuue!
Eventually, after expressing his hope that he would find his loving family once again, Fievel tucked himself in and fell asleep. Come tomorrow, and the chance to find his family would begin once again.
"Damn silly hand luggage, if you ask me," said Maa.
"The cat says they call it Christmas," said the horse.
It was a snowy winter night in the Hundred Acre Wood. Rabbit was sitting on his rocking chair next to the fireplace, looking very mournful. He was thinking about the little bluebird he took in a long time ago: Kessie. He was thinking about all the time they spent together. From since she was a baby to if she was a little girl. He had become like a father to her. She even called him "Rabbie" to show she loved him. But then came the day. The day he dreaded so much. The day where Kessie would have to fly South for the winter.
He really didn't let her fly. Then he desperately tried to keep her from doing so against his friends' wishes and against Kessie's own will. He made her promise she wouldn't ever fly. But as Rabbit was falling to his death, Kessie saved him by flying. The one fact he promised she would never do so. He just sat in his rocking chair looking at the stuffed bunny in his hands, not knowing what to do. Just then, he heard a sweet little voice.
"Rabbie?"
Rabbit instantly knew who that was. It was Kessie. He swiftly hid the bunny. Kessie came in, carrying a red storybook.
"Um, Rabbie? Could you...would you read me one last bedtime story," she asked.
"You mean...before you...leave," said Rabbit.
"Oh, dear. I didn't mean that. I meant, uh..."
Rabbit got up and walked to his bedroom, carrying the stuffed bunny in his hand.
"You don't need me to read you a bedtime story. You don't need me for anything," he said.
With that said, he went into his room and shut the door, leaving Kessie all alone. Hearing that, Kessie wasn't just mournful. She was brokenhearted. She set the book down in the rocking chair and walked over to her little pink chair. Once she sat down, she began to weep.
"Eating pigs," said Maa, "barbarians!"
"You're going back to the fields, Maa," replied Babe.
"Oh, boy, tragic there aren't more of your kind," said Maa, "I've always thought of you."
"I could come and see you, Maa," replied Babe.
"I'd like to, but..." said Maa, "well, let's not hope for too much."
The following morning, under the misty heavens, a large gathering of mice was coming together at Mausheimer Park. Having come together for a rally, put together in the name of trying to figure out a plan to deal with the troublesome cats, and per Gussie’s request, the crowds chatted amongst each other. Gussie stood on a podium above everyone else and announced, “ATTENTION, PLEASE! ATTENTION, PLEASE!!”
A band fanfare played as Gussie got everyone’s attention. With everyone now silent, Gussie went on with what she had to say. On the podium, standing alongside Gussie, was Honest John, and a mouse cop. Behind the authorities were Fievel and Bridget, both having come to the rally as well. “You all know why we are here,” she said to the crowds, “we have to do something about these cats.”
Many of the mice agreed, though a handful of mice were frantic about possible cat attack upon hearing Gussie mention them. “Not so loud,” one of them said, “they’ll hear you.”
“Well, let them hear me,” replied Gussie, not backing down.
“YOU CAN SPEAK!! YOU’RE RICH,” exclaimed a mouse louder.
Many of the mice shout in agreement, unwilling to let the fear of cats stop Gussie from going through with her speech. Amongst the crowds were the Mousekowitz family. Unfortunately for them, they were in the road back of the crowd, not getting a nice view of Gussie. “Money is not everything,” said Gussie, “I know, because I have money and I have everything, but what are they worth without freedom?”
“HEAR!! HEAR,” added Honest John, getting the crowds pumped up.
Behind the authorities, Fievel, bored from the rally and willing to find his family, slowly tried sneaking apart from Bridget. However, he didn’t get far though, for Bridget saw him trying to get away and pulled him back. “Why did we come to America,” asked Gussie to the crowds, “for freedom!”
The crowds roared in agreement. “Why are they building that statue,” asked Gussie as she pointed toward the Statue of Liberty, which at this point was getting closer to completion, “what does that stand for? Freedom!”
The crowds shout in agreement again. “Well, what have we done,” asked Gussie to the crowds.
“FREEDOM,” shout the crowds.
The band played a brief fanfare, also agreeing with Gussie and the crowds. “Right,” said Gussie getting back to her speech, “freedom from cats, and because this is America, we can do something about them.”
“WHAT HAVE WE DONE,” asked a mouse amongst the loud crowds.
At the back, Tanya, who was on Papa’s shoulders, tried getting a view of the podium, but the tall mice in from of them were blocking her view. “Papa, I can’t see,” she said.
“THEY’RE BIGGER THAN WE ARE,” a mouse shouts to Gussie.
Back on the podium, Fievel tried sneaking away off, this time getting much farther from Bridget. “Not if we all work together,” replied Gussie, “now what are you afraid of? Are we men, or are we mice?”
“MICE,” the crowds agreed.
Fievel approached Gussie, as if he was about to get her attention, but as Gussie almost turned towards him, he swiftly backed up. Bridget pulled him back towards her, as Honest John said to the cheering mice, “mice, indeed, and proud of it!”
“Well, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT THESE CATS,” asked Gussie, getting to the point.
Everyone’s cheering stopped upon hearing this question. Everyone looked at each other, confused and having no idea. “Well...any ideas,” asked Gussie.
Honest John, a little embarrassed as well, cleared his throat and said, “oh, yes...well...I...oh, dear...”
Suddenly, an idea sparked in Fievel’s mind. After glimpsing up at Bridget, he swiftly rushed to Gussie and Honest John. Bridget saw him run away and silently gasped, but Fievel wasn’t running away to find his family. He walked up to Gussie and said, “I have an idea.”
“Yes?”
As Gussie smiled and chuckled silently, Honest John approached the two and asked, “what did he say?”
“He said,” whispered Gussie before whispering the plan to Honest John.
Upon hearing everything, Honest John grinned and chuckled himself. “Cute little fellow,” he muttered.
Fievel was about to guide him back to Bridget, but before they could move elsewhere, Gussie said, “wait a moment. I think this little fellow has found something here. WE HAVE A PLAN!!”
The crowds cheered louder, happily knowing that at last they had an idea for how to deal with the cats. Fievel grinned to the crowds as they threw their hats into the air. In the back of the crowd, the Mousekewitz family yet couldn’t see the podium, much less who was on it. “Oh, Papa, she’s in the road again,” said Tanya as the mouse in front of them kept blocking their view.
Later that evening, under the dark, misty heavens, a large tramp steamer boat waited near Chelsea Pier, ready for imminent the voyage later on. As the ship rested though, a lot of silent activity was going on nearby. Now having a plan of ridding themselves of the cats, Honest John and a number of other mice gathered near the pier, with Honest John giving each passing mouse a torch where they could travel silently to an abandoned museum in the dark. Sitting near the pier, the museum filled up with mice silently making their road inside, unwilling to draw any attention from felines. “WATCH OUT BELOW,” shouts a mouse before dropping a tiny skull near some of his colleagues.
A cop mouse swiftly silenced him before hearing Gussie announce to the other mice, “we have a plan! One out of many!”
Together with the cop mice, she directed her fellow mice, some of which carrying scissors, saws, forks and other sharp tools, to move forward and to commence putting their plan into action. Three mice worked together to saw apart the head of a fossilized crocodile-like fashion, while a few others worked together to sew together a long, sock-like fashion. The Mousekewitz family, minus Fievel, was also there, helping everyone out. They helped each other in carrying a thing and a stopwatch and dropping them into a delivery bucket. With all the required supplies inside, the bucket was dropped into a bin of boiling water. Three mice jumped on a lever, boiling up the hot water and allowing a mechanism nearby to pump the water into a circular bottle. This bottle had the long fabric attached to the top and, like a chemistry experiment, the fabric expanded outward like a balloon. Honest John stood atop the expanding fabric as he made an announcement to everyone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you so much for your participation,” he said before getting off the fabric, “and I want to close side-by-side saying that a vote for Honest John is a vote for freedom. Freedom is what that is! And thank you again, one and all.”
Meanwhile, Fievel, having returned to Tony’s after the rally, and keeping an eye out for danger, gazed upon the city, on the lookout for cats. It all seemed silent for the mouse, and there seemed like no problems at all. Suddenly, a nearby alarm went off, alarming Tony awake. Realizing what time it was, Tony started to freak out. “HOLY SPUMONI,” he exclaimed before rushing out while taking a bathing Fievel with him, “WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN AT THE PIER AN HOUR AGO!!”
“THE PIER,” cried Fievel as he attempted to get his clothes on, “that’s an eerie place!”
“I promised Bridget we’d be on time,” said Tony frantically before sliding down a rope.
“WAIT FOR ME!! WAIT,” cried Fievel as she desperately tried to follow him.
“YEESH, LOUISE, AM I IN THE DOGHOUSE? PICK THEM UP,” exclaimed a furious Tony as they rushed through a fancy restaurant and got outside on the sidewalk, before turning to Fievel with fury, “WARN ME WHAT TIME IT WAS, RIGHT?!”
“But Tony, I can’t warn time,” cried Fievel before seeing Tony rush apart ahead of him, “TONY...SLOW DOWN! WAIT!! PLEASE, WAIT!!!”
By now, Fievel managed to get his pants on, but as he attempted to keep up with Tony, he caught hold of a lid leading to a sewer underground. He watched as Tony rushed away out of sight. But before he started to rush after him again though, he heard something familiar coming from the sewer. “Papa,” he asked silently before turning to where his friend rushed away, “Tony!”
He didn’t get a response, but recognizing the sound underground as a violin, he filled with hope. “Papa,” he said before shouting into the sewer, “I’M-A COMING, PAPA!!”
He climbed his way down into the sewer, listening carefully for where the sound was coming from. He walked into a pipe, unaware that a couple of roaches and other insects were slowly following him. Fievel strolled through the pipe, trying to listen for where the violin music was coming from, while the insects slowly stalked him, gathering in larger and larger numbers. At last, Fievel heard their noisy sounds and turned around, gasping upon seeing the huge group of insects stalking him. He swiftly rushed to get away, almost falling into a pool of sewage below. The insects fell into the sewage and some were chomped up by an underground reptile while Fievel watched as he held onto his hat. Relieved to have gotten away, he resumed his search for the violin music. Past the dirty rivers of sewage water, constantly keeping an eye out for danger, and hoping to find what they’re looking for down here, they reached another hallway. This was where the violin music was coming from. “Papa,” asked Fievel as he gazed upon the hallway.
Upon reaching this hallway though, Fievel felt something wasn’t right. He slowly walked forward, and upon peaking his head beyond a stone wall, he spotted a group of cats sitting at a table playing poker. A few other cats were playing music on a piano, with some stepping on the big petals and some playing the keys. Fievel silently gasped upon seeing these cats, for he recognized some of them as the ones that attacked him at the market the other day. He had stumbled into his lair. At the moment though, the cats were oblivious to their visitor. At the poker table, the cats were busy with their card game. “Alright, ante up, boys,” said one cat to his fellow players before turning his attention to another player, “hey, no cheating.”
Fievel slowly and carefully kept himself hidden as he proceeded deeper into the hideout. The fact that the cats were there and making noise made him hesitant and wary, for they could catch them at any minute. As he attempted to get to a higher portion of the hideout, he heard one cat let out a few growls and purrs, alarming them. To his relief though, this cat, an orange tabby, didn’t notice him. He was picking his sharp nails before noticing something with his deck of cards. “I found it! I have it! I've had it,” he muttered before chuckling and putting his deck on the table, “rummy!”
“Tiger, for the hundredth time, we’re playing Poker,” said one of his fellow cats, annoyed.
Tiger, the tabby cat, swiftly calmed down and felt a little bad. “I knew that. I knew that, but who can concentrate, with all that noise,” chuckled Tiger before taking his deck back.
“Hey, Tiger,” said one of the other cats who took his cigar out of his mouth, “if the boss plays, it’s culture.”
“Sure, culture,” said another cat, “I think it sounds, uh...melodious.”
Yet staying hidden, Fievel gazed upon these cats and, while relieved he didn’t strike him yet, knew he had to get out and fast. As he approached the signal closer and closer however, but he heard another voice speak from much closer. “If music be the food of love, play on McDuff, play on.”
This voice sounded very familiar, Fievel felt a huge sense of uncertainty. He slowly peaked from nearby and to his full shock, he saw that this voice was coming from none other than the con artist who sold him out before: Warren T. Rat. He was playing his violin above the gang. Upon seeing him again, Fievel frowned furiously while gritting his teeth, yet frustrated at what he did so, but keeping himself hidden. His violin playing skills were not very top notch though, and Digit made no secret of his disdain. “I don’t know which is worse,” he said as he got on the violin, “the music or the Shakespeare.”
“Ah, rats, this nose, this nose here keeps getting in the road,” complained Warren T. as he looked at his nose and started pulling on it.
“You...you could stop playing,” chuckled Digit hesitantly.
Warren T. chuckled a bit before turning threatening. “That’s funny,” he said sarcastically before finally pulling apart his nose, revealing a shorter one underneath it and shocking Fievel horribly, “I’ve known a coach roach with best taste, but I’ve known plenty that taste...nice.”
Digit was placed very close to Warren T.’s sharp teeth and this made him extremely hesitant. Warren T. chuckled at the cockroach’s fear. Concerned for dear life, Digit frantically said, “play, play, play.”
Digit swiftly flew away, apart from his boss. With that taken care of, Warren T. put his finger on one of his ears and suddenly pulled them apart. Here, Fievel had to see the con artist, shocked that he had a different nose, but to his bigger shock, the ears suddenly folded outwards, forming the shape of a cat ear. Fievel silently gasped upon realizing something horrific; this con artist wasn’t a rat, but a cat instead. Viewing the fiend from a different point of view, he saw that he was a cat as well. “Warren T.,” he muttered.
Suddenly, Warren T. let out a gasp that made the mouse freeze in shock. To his relief, Warren T. wasn’t looking at him, but instead, he was looking at someone through his window. “You,” he said to Fievel, remembering him from before.
“You’re not a rat,” said Fievel as he frowned at the cat, “you’re a cat!”
“How’d you get in here,” he asked before catching him with his paw, “COME HERE, YOU LITTLE!!”
Fievel shrieked as Warren T. caught him, but he wasn’t going down like that. He chomped on his arm with his teeth, causing Warren T. to shriek in pain and let go of the mouse. Martin and Teresa looked and saw Fievel rushing to get away as Warren T. pushed his mirror off his platform. “Gentlemen, cat's outta the bag,” he said, “GET ME THAT MOUSE!!”
“IT’S A TRAP,” exclaimed Martin and Teresa simultaneously.
Suddenly, Tiger tossed his poker cards aside and pulled on the table blanket, causing a big mess. “Let me at them! I mean, let me at them,” he exclaimed as he moved stuff around in his emotion, giving the other cats a hard time, “I’ll murder them! Get outta my road! Get outta my road! OH, you just stepped on my tail, ya little runt!”
However, other cats already had their eyes on Fievel, and they chased after him. But before Warren T. could join them in the chase though, Martin jumped out of his hiding place and kicked him in the face, sending him tumbling onto ground level. Upon landing on ground level as well, he swiftly turned to the cats chasing Fievel and blasted them with his baseball bat, sending them all smashing down to the ground as well. “FIEVEL! RUN,” cried Martin, “HURRY UP!!”
“Ah, well, well, well, fancy seeing you again, boy,” said Warren T. as he got to his feet and frowned at the mouse with fury.
“Warren T.,” growled Martin before pointing his weapon at him, “I just knew I smelled a rat until I saw you in here! Kinda ironic considering you’re not a rat, but then again, you always were nothing but damage. But now, your jig is up! WHERE’S THE SCEPTER, AND WHAT DO YOUR ALLIES HAVE AGAINST MY BOSS?!”
But before Martin could threaten Warren T., he was suddenly slapped aside by one of the cats. This caused him to incidentally let go of his baseball bat and gaze upon his attacker, which was another cat. “Like I said before, boy, you found a sharp mind, and that’s impressive, but also a disgrace, SINCE YOU AIN’T GOING ANYWHERE JUST LIKE THAT! GET THEM, BOYS!!”
The cats charged towards Martin, but Teresa rushed in, caught his hand and pulled him out of the road. Now without his baseball bat, Martin was at a disadvantage against these felines and his only ambition now was to get out of there. They rushed towards Fievel, who was being chased up onto a piano by two of the cats. Narrowly dodging their jaws, he ran down the piano keys as fast as he could, only to come face-to-face with another cat. Dodging his attack, and swiftly turning around upon seeing another cat approach him, he ran back the road he came. “Come here, ya little runt,” said one of the cats.
He climbed up the piano and hid in the piano sheets. The cats swiftly pulled the sheets out, hoping to catch Fievel, but Fievel hid underneath them and met up with Martin and Teresa near the exit. “FASTER, THIS WAY,” exclaimed Teresa.
“GET THEM,” shouts one of the cats.
As Fievel and the two otters fled, some marbles and ornaments came rolling alongside them, having been released in the chaos. Three of the cats charged after them, but they ended up sliding on the marbles and rendered unable to catch the trio. They smashed into a wall as Fievel, Martin and Teresa ran down a different hallway, catching hold of an old roller skate. One cat pounced on them, but missed, and this sent the roller skate riding down the hallway. The trio held onto the roller skate before turning back to their pursuers. They were getting further and further apart from the cats. Fievel stuck his tongue out at them as Martin said, “we need to get above ground and fast!”
“MARTIN, INCOMING,” cried Teresa, upon seeing something up ahead.
To their horror, it was another group of cats, waiting for them to get close enough. Martin swiftly steered the roller skate down another hallway, barely dodging these cats, and taking the skate into the sewage water. The cats relentlessly pursued them, but the trio swiftly rushed to get above water, going through a steel trap and climbing up a chain. After getting above water, they frantically rushed up a pile of muck and reached the top, eventually getting above ground. At last back above ground, the trio shivered as they tried to calm down from that experience. Fievel took his hat as he remembered how they were deceived. But just before he could even break into a mad dash, the cats caught him from below and pulled him back underground. The cats laughed evilly, now having the mouse as his prisoner and rendering him, unable to warn his friends in a rush.
Back at Chelsea Pier, the tramp steamer boat remained near the dock, yet ready for its voyage across the ocean. At the abandoned museum nearby, the mice were stuffing themselves as well, only for the plan of attack against the cats at dawn. Gussie announced how the plan would go down to the mice. The Mousekewitz family listened carefully alongside their comrades as Gussie spelled everything out in specific detail. “Once more, there is the boat. The boat whistle blows at 6:00 in the morning, and that is until we must...release...THE SECRET WEAPON!!”
In Gussie’s presentation, she had some windup toys resembling cats and their secret weapon. The cat toys were placed near the pier and were chased towards the boat by the secret weapon. The mice cheered as the weapon chased the cat toys onto the boat, taken on an old-fashioned trip to Hong Kong in Asia. “Well,” continued Gussie, “the cats must be here at 6:00 on the dot, not a moment before or after. Now if you go to get the cats, what have you done to make them come here?”
The assigned mice got on their feet and chanted in a mocking fashion, “nyah nyah nyah-nyah nyah!”
“Right,” replied Gussie before turning to everyone else, “now get some sleep! We have a long day ahead.”
In one section of the lair though, near a pile of birdcages, Fievel was being held prisoner. Stuck in one of the cages, Fievel was sobbing uncontrollably until he heard a voice coming from nearby. He looked and saw one of the cats coming his road. It was Tiger, and he slowly marched his road towards the cage while goofing around. “On your guard...Tiger,” muttered Tiger to himself before making multiple fighting poses, all while getting closer and closer, “don’t make any funny moves, because I’m crafty, and I’m fast! I have the instincts of a cat! What am I saying? I am a cat,” before hearing Fievel weeping in the cage and changing his mood, “oh, hey, ah...don’t start that. I didn’t mean to frighten you that much really,” he said as he took the cage and put it on his belly, “it’s alright, little buddy. Hey, I’m your friend. Aw, c'mon. Be happy!”
Tiger chuckled and tried putting on a happy face for Fievel, but it wasn’t working. “Aw, c'mon,” replied Tiger, a bit serious, “what are you weeping for?”
But Fievel stopped his weeping and spoke up. “I can’t get out of here and I have to, where I can find my family,” he said innocently. 
“You...lost your family,” asked Tiger, feeling bad for the little mouse.
“Uh-huh.”
Tiger leaned himself next to the cage, allowing it to hang again, all while he started expressing disgrace himself, not just for Fievel, but also for himself. “Oh, dear,” he said as he picked off one of his nails, “that’s horrible. You know, I lost my family as well. Years ago, I mean...eight brothers...ten sisters...three fathers...”
Tiger buried his face in his tail as he sobbed, missing his family just as much as Fievel missed his. Fievel looked at the cat and felt very sorry for him. “Ne pas pleure,” said Fievel, attempting to lend consolation, “you’ll find them.”
Tiger looked at the mouse and felt his despair slowly fade away. “Do you really think so,” he asked before eventually calming down and picking off another one of his cat nails, “jeez, you’re nice. Um...my name is Tiger. What’s yours?”
“Fievel,” replied Fievel as he looked at Tiger’s nail, “Fievel Mousekewitz.”
“Oh, dear,” said Tiger before getting close to the cage, “listen, I like mice.”
This suddenly caused Fievel to turn around and burst into tears again. “Wwwwaaaaaahh!!”
Tiger, however, immediately said, “oh, dear, not like that. In fact, I don’t eat red meat at all. I’m a vegetarian. That’s right. Oh, and a little fish now and then, but what I really like is some nice, csendes...broccoli.”
“You know,” said Fievel to Tiger, “I thought all cats were supposed to be mean.”
“Mean? Ha, I am mean,” asked Tiger before getting up and messing around, causing some stuff to shake around, “argh! Then...and...ah, what’s the use?”
All this frisky activity caused the birdcage that Fievel was in to break free and roll on the ground. As the cage stopped, he looked up and saw Tiger sitting on a ledge, his back facing him and his tail slowly tapping from side-to-side. But as it seemed though that he was going to remain stern and guard the mouse, he suddenly turned back to Fievel, facing him upside down and said, “I like butterflies with big golden wings and blue and green tips.”
Fievel gasped upon hearing this and rose with joy. “Me as well,” he said.
Tiger chuckled before rolling onto his back. “I like Swiss cheese ice cream,” he said.
“Me as well, me as well,” replied Fievel, emotional.
“Me as well, as well,” replied Tiger, also emotional, “huh, wait a moment. What’s your favorite book?”
“‘The Brothers Karamazov!'”
Tiger chuckled with joy, seeing that he and Fievel had many, many similar interests. “‘The Brothers’...I can’t...I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!”
Tiger’s joy and innocence caused Fievel to slowly stop feeling cautious and rough and look at the cat as he once again expressed his joy. He took the birdcage and pulled a switch, allowing him to take the bars apart where he could look at Fievel eye-to-eye.
Tiger: I can warn, we have an awful lot in common
Even though we look as different as can be
We don’t even have to try to see things eye-to-eye
It just comes to us naturally
Come to think of it, I think we fit together
Playing cat and mouse won’t get us very far
There’s no need to feud or fuss if it isn’t really us
Let’s you and me be who we are
Together, Tiger and Fievel started dancing together, signifying the start of a friendship and making him form a grin.
Tiger: We’re a two! A two,
A pair of lonely ones, who were meant to be a two-o
A two! That’s true-o
Wherever we go
We’re going me and you
Fievel: Yes!
Now next to a mirror, Tiger wiped against it, allowing Fievel to see his reflection.
Tiger: Oh, no matter what, now we’ve had one another
We’ll be there to pick each other off the floor
Any time you’re feeling glum, count on me to be a chum
Fievel: If you got an itch attack, I’ll be there to scratch your back
Tiger: Now who could ever ask for moooooOOOORE?!
NoooooOOOO!!!!
Tiger’s singing suddenly stopped as Fievel started scratching his back. This caused him to start laughing. This cat truly was being honest until he said he was a friendly guy. “Stop, stop,” chuckled Tiger in-between laughs, “no, don’t stop! More! More!”
Tiger: We’re friends and that’s what friends are for!
Fievel and Tiger: WE’RE A TWO!
A TWO!!
A pair of lonely ones, who were meant to be a two-o
A TWO!!!
IT’S TRUE-O!!!!
If we’re ever in a stew, we know we can make it through
BECAUSE YOU HAVE ME AND I'VE...HAD...YOUUUUU!!!!!
YES, SIR!!!!!!
The two new friends laughed together. Suddenly, the happy moment shattered along with the mirror as an alarm went off. This caught everyone off guard and Digit, having been awoken by the sudden alarm, saw what just happened and started freaking out while tiny bits of electricity sparked on his antennae. “Where’d that come from,” asked Tiger, shocked and surprised, before seeing Digit attempt to stop Fievel from escaping, “don’t! Oh, stop this!”
Not wasting another second, Fievel fled the lair with the cats in hot pursuit. “TIGER, HOW DID HE GET AWAY,” demanded Warren T.
“He overpowered me,” replied Tiger.
“You’re fired,” said Warren T. sinisterly.
Despite this, Tiger remained hopeful. “Sure! I’m glad! I never liked you, and besides, your music stinks.”
Reaching above ground once again, and this time avoiding being pulled back in by the cats, Fievel fled as fast as he could to the pier. A bit guilty for leaving Tiger behind, but knowing that the cats were on the attack again, he ran through the city, remembering the plan to rid himself of Warren T. and his gang of cats and knowing where it was going to happen. With newfound determination, he ran to Chelsea Pier, ready to put an end to the feline terror once and for all.
At Chelsea Pier, the mice slept silently as the clock slowly got closer to 6:00. As everyone slept though, they were unaware that the cats were on their road early, but they weren’t just after anyone. Having escaped the underground lair thanks to Tiger’s help, Fievel ran for dear life, dodging the vicious cats as they relentlessly pursued the mouse. Fievel shrieked as the cats kept getting closer and closer to him. “AAH! TONY!! HELP,” cried Fievel, “HEEELLLPPP!!! CATS!!!!”
“That's a deliberate lie, you monkey-faced little rum pot,” replied Tony.
“TONY! BRIDGET!! HEEEELP,” cried Fievel as he got closer to the building, “CATS!!!”
Fievel’s cry for help awakened Gussie. “It’s the cats,” said Gussie after looking outside.
“HEEEELLP,” cried Fievel again.
Gussie gasped upon seeing that the cats were coming ahead of schedule. “They’re early? WAKE UP,” shouts Gussie in an attempt to awaken her fellow mice, “EVERYONE, WAKE UP!!”
Outside, Fievel was now just yards apart from the building, but the cats were yet hot on their tail. Swiftly taking a right turn, dodging one of the cats’ attacks, he now had a straight pathway to the building. From an overhead platform, Gussie rushed to the top and saw the mouse getting chased. “CATS,” cried Fievel as Gussie watched him run.
“HEEEEEELLLP,” cried Fievel as he eventually got inside, narrowly dodging his pursuers’ sharp claws, “WAKE UP, THE CATS ARE HERE! WAKE UP NOW!! CATS!!!”
Fievel’s frantic shouts and cries awakened most of the mice, and the word of cats being outside caused one of the fanfare mice to play a fanfare. One of the officers became shocked upon hearing this. “The cats,” he said before rushing to everyone inside the weapon, “RELEASE THE SECRET WEAPON!!”
“What? Release the...” asked Honest John before panicking himself, “OH, DEAR!!”
Nearby, one mouse removed one of the rope restraints, allowing the weapon to slowly move forward a bit, but Honest John swiftly got himself in front of the weapon and tried getting it to stop. “Oh, dear, oh, dear! Wait for the boat whistle,” said Honest John as he tried with all his might to keep the weapon from breaking out of the building ahead of schedule. Outside, one cat roared at Gussie, trying to get in, but Gussie whacked him away with a broom. Other mice, including Tony, stood alongside the two, throwing stuff down at their enemies, but Gussie suddenly said, “hold your fire. It’s that rat, Warren T.”
By now, Fievel had reached the platform and saw Warren T. alongside the cats, once again wearing his rat disguise. “He’s not a rat,” said Fievel, “he’s a cat. He’s their boss.”
“Pay no attention to that little mouse,” said Warren T., denying everything the boy said, “just throw down all your money and that boy, and I will personally convince these cats to leave ya alone.”
Inside, Honest John was yet attempting to keep the weapon from breaking out of the building early. “YOU’RE WRECKING THE PLAN,” he exclaimed towards a few mice as they attempted to keep the weapon from going too by holding it back with some rope, “IT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN THIS FASHION!!”
By now, the clock reached 5:54, and outside, Warren T., relentlessly demanded Fievel. “Just throw down THAT BOY,” he demanded.
But before anything else could happen, Tony stepped forward and said, “oh, yes?”
With his slingshot, he fired a stone down at Warren T., and this earned a direct hit on Warren T.’s muzzle. This caused his fake rat nose to fall apart. “Bullseye,” exclaimed Tony as everyone gasped in shock.
“Disregard the nose,” said Warren T. as he put his hat on, “what’s in a nose? A nose by any other name would smell as sweet...”
As Warren T. kept quoting poetry and denying his actual nose, Tony threw it towards the con artist and this hit right into his head, knocking the hat and fake ears away. The mice gasped in alarm upon seeing that the fellow they thought was a rat was now revealed to be a feline all this time. “Grand whiskers, it’s a cat,” exclaimed one of the mice.
“He’s a cat,” added another.
The mice muttered their shock about this revelation just near Fievel. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, wait a moment, who are you gonna believe,” asked Warren T., not backing down, “me or your own eyes?”
All Warren T. had in response was the mice throwing down their stuff at the con artist. This was an indication that they were not fooled. Inside, Honest John and the other mice attempted to keep the weapon under control. “Release...the secret...no, no,” muttered Honest John as he tried in vain to stop the weapon from moving forward.
By now, the clock reached 5:55, and outside, everyone kept throwing their stuff down at Warren T. “EASY NOW, EASY!! Uh, uh, I take it we can’t do business,” he said as the mice temporarily ceased fire.
“Warren, you’re through,” said Gussie, refusing to back away, “washed up! Ruined! You’ll never get another cent from any mouse, anywhere.”
“Eh, we’ll see about that,” said a defiant Warren T. before he approached the building, “just you wait, little rat! Just...”
But before Warren T. could muster, he approached the building with his cats and pulled out a match. He lit it with his golden tooth, giving the mice a fright. He chuckled evilly before exclaiming to his enemies, “FAREWELL!!”
He tossed the lit match into a box of wool as the other cats cheered for their boss. Inside, the mice saw the fire smoke starting to spread and panicked. As this happened, Honest John and a few other mice kept attempting to keep the weapon from breaking out early. “OH, TIE IT OFF! TIE IT OFF!! HURRY UP!!!”
Eventually, they managed to tie one last rope from the weapon and put it near a nail put into the ground. Honest John, yet attempting to push the weapon back, sighed with relief, knowing that the weapon was no longer moving forward. “Oh, saints be praised! It stopped,” he said, unaware of the deadly attempt that was going on outside.
But as it seemed facts weren’t going to get worse for the mice, the tramp steamer’s whistle blew, indicating that it was about to set off on the voyage to Hong Kong. Upon hearing this, Gussie turns to the mice inside the building and shouts out, “RELEASE THE SECRET WEAPON!!”
Eventually, the clock struck 6 and rang rapidly. Upon hearing the clock, Honest John realized that it was now time to release the weapon. “Release? Oh, dear,” he exclaimed before shouting to his comrades, “RELEASE THE SECRET WEAPON!!”
“MAKE UP YOUR MIND,” yelled one of the mice upset as everyone went from preventing it from going to now pushing it out.
“Oohh, ooh, ooh, oh, my heavens!”
Outside, the boat slowly started to go. “RELEASE THE SECRET WEAPON,” ordered Gussie again as Fievel stood past her side.
Inside, the mice were yet attempting to get the weapon moving. Some mice tried untying the ropes, while another tried cutting it loose with scissors, but none of their attempts were working. “RELEASE THE WEAPON,” shouts one mouse.
“RELEASE THE WEAPON,” shouts another.
“RELEASE THE BLASTED WEAPON,” Honest John yelled to everyone in the weapon.
Tanya and her family were among those in the weapon. Upon hearing Honest John, Tanya turned to Papa, who was pumping the weapon up with power. “Faster, Papa!”
“We can’t do business here, right,” asked Warren T. from outside.
Turning back to the action outside, and knowing straight away what he had to do, Fievel frowned with determination before rushing outside. Here, Warren T. was laughing at the mice’s expense as he was ready to watch the building burn down with everyone inside. As he did so, Fievel got outside, caught a small torch and ran back in, going under Honest John and losing his hat in the process. But he had to move fast, because the ship was getting further and further out of range. Gussie gasped before turning back to the others. “RELEASE THE SECRET WEAPON,” ordered Gussie one last time.
Fievel reached the rope holding the weapon back and lit the rope with his torch. This eventually allowed the rope to break, just a few inches apart. Fievel’s end of the rope, however, sent him flying to the ground, causing him to hit his head hard on a metal nail. This rendered the exhausted mouse unconscious. And pump up the weapon the mice did so. “Faster,” cried Tanya.
But before any of the cats could finish them, the weapon smashed into the building doors, catching everyone’s attention. The interior glowed an intense green and red color combination, a breeze from inside extinguished the fire, some sparks of fire came flying out and a loud, menacing roar erupted from inside, alarming Warren T. At last, the doors burst open and here, the cats could eventually see the secret weapon the mice were putting together. Standing before them was an enormous mechanical mouse on wheels, with glowing yellow eyes, sharp teeth and electrical motors and wires all around it. “Get a load of that,” commented Warren T. before almost getting hit by one of the blasts of fire, “I-I-I-T’S THE GIANT MOUSE OF MINSK!!”
“Y-Y-Y-YOU’RE RIGHT,” added Digit.
Back with the Mouse of Minsk, it continued chasing the remaining cats, including Warren T., down the pier. These firecrackers flew towards the cats spooked them. Some cats tried seeking cover from higher ground, but some mice were already stationed there and they fired off their own firecrackers. Frightened out of their wits, the cats fled to the pier where the boat was leaving. “HEAD FOR THE PIER!!”
Back with Warren T., he ran alongside the other cats for dear life, narrowly dodging one of the firecrackers by jumping over it. Digit, hiding in Warren T.’s hat, frantically whined as he held on. In the weapon, Tony let off some firecrackers. The weapon kept chasing after the cats as the mice noticed they were getting closer and closer to the edge of the pier. With that said, everyone jumped out with their parachutes. The Mousekewitz family, having jumped out along with the other mice, looked on as the weapon chased the cats far away to the point of them not coming back. “We did it,” cheered Tanya.
“WOAAHHHH,” exclaimed Warren T. as he ran before tripping.
Digit shrieked as the weapon kept firing off firecrackers. It caught up to Warren T., causing him to cling onto the weapon. He saw up ahead his fellow gang members huddled together, but as he tried getting into the weapon to save himself, all he could do was watch from the windows. All the cats jumped off the pier, just in time to avoid getting run over by the weapon. The weapon dove into the water, taking Warren T. with it, and ending his threat to the mice for real. Underwater, the ship exploded, causing a massive wave of water to form and send the cats far from the pier and toward one of the ship’s anchors. As the explosion subsided, the mice gathered at the pier, seeing that their plan worked like a charm. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! CREDIT WHERE IT’S DUE!! WE OWE IT ALL TO FILLIE AND HIS MOUSE OF MINSK,” cheered Honest John.
Everyone burst into cheers, jumping up and down in joy before singing their happiness.
Mice: NOW THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA!!
As the celebrating and singing went on though, Tanya couldn’t help but wonder whom Honest John was referring to. “Fillie,” he asked before turning to Papa, “who’s Fillie?”
On the boat anchor, as it slowly rose up, Warren T. clung onto it with his fellow cats and Digit. Coughing in exhaustion, and fueled with fury, he let out his frustration toward the celebrating mice. “SOMEDAY, GUSSIE MAUSHEIMER! SOMEDAY,” he yelled with outrage, “AND YOU AS WELL, MOUSEKEWITZ!! ALL OF YA!!! I HATE MICE!!!!”
Warren T. coughed again before feeling exhausted from his rant and frustration. “I’m having a heart attack here,” he commented.
The other cats looked up at the boat and saw that its curse was for Hong Kong in Asia. “Oh, don’t worry, gentlemen. Don’t worry,” said Warren T. to his fellow cats, “there are plenty of mice in Hong Kong.”
“Oh, my,” said Digit before looking at his coins, “I’ll have to learn how to calculate in Chinese. Huh, let me see, uh...”
“Hey, I wonder how you say ‘trust me’ in Chinese,” commented Warren T. as the boat sailed away into the distance, at last going out of view, who growled in frustration before shouting out an enraged "STEELE!!"
This yell was so loud that it echoed across Chelsea Pier. Back with Fievel, he lay unconscious in the now deserted building. Unaware that Warren T. and the cats had been defeated, he had no idea what was going on around him. However, not far off, a container of kerosene gasoline was tipped over and it spilled the flammable fluid in the puddles below. This fluid drained outside, where a remaining tiny flame remained burning, but not out of control. Upon coming in contact with the gas though, the fire swiftly spread and soon started consoling the building and area around it. The mice swiftly spotted the rising flames and gasped in horror. “THE PIER IS ON FIRE,” exclaimed one of the mice.
The mice burst into a panic as they ran to get off the pier and get to safety. Together with the Mousekewitz family and the other mice, they rushed to get away from the flames. As they did though, a fire department came in on their horse coach to take care of the fire. Not paying attention to the mice activity, they swiftly rushed in to douse the flames before the fire could spread. Below them, Tony and Bridget were also looking for Fievel, they were concerned sick. “FILLIE,” cried Tony.
“Fillie Mousekowitz,” called Bridget, “where are you?”
“Tony,” gasped Bridget upon spotting Fievel’s hat on the ground, “look!”
This instantly made Tony more concerned for his friend. “FIEVEL,” he called out, only to get no response.
The fire department began dousing the flames with their hose. “PHIL-L-LIP,” called Bridget again.
Back with the Mousekowitz family, they were rushing with the other mice to escape, but as they did so, Tanya heard Bridget and Tony calling Fievel's name. “Papa, listen,” she said, curious.
“FILLIE MOUSEKOWITZ,” called Bridget.
Although this seemed promising that Fievel could be nearby, Papa was yet uncertain. “Ah, so what,” he said before taking Tanya’s arm, “someone is calling a Fillie Mousekowitz.”
“They changed my name to Tillie, perhaps they changed Fievel’s name to Fillie,” replied Tanya, before getting out of Papa’s grip and rushing to the scene, “c'mon, Papa. Just have to see.”
“Wait, stop,” said Papa as he and Mama rushed after their daughter, “stop!”
“FILLIE MOUSEKOWITZ,” called Tony again.
“FILLIE,” added Bridget.
The two rushed to another part of the scene to find Fievel, just as Tanya, Papa and Mama arrived. “Wait,” called Tanya to Tony and Bridget.
“Stop,” added Papa, trying to catch his breath.
Their voices caused Tony to rush back to the father and daughter. “You are calling for a Fillie Mousekowitz, right,” he asked, “here, warn my daughter his name is Fillie and not Fievel.”
“His name is Fillie,” replied Tony.
“You see,” said Papa to Tanya.
“And Fievel,” added Tony, correcting Papa.
“And Fievel? No, no, no, there are many Fievel Mousekewitzes in New York. Perhaps thousands,” replied Papa, yet adamant that Fievel was gone, all while Tiger watched from nearby, recognizing the name coming from the same mouse he made friends with, “it could yet be another Fievel Mousekowitz.”
Mama appeared, along with Bridget and instead of an argument, she agreed with them. “No, Papa,” she said before showing everyone Fievel’s hat, the very proof that Fievel was yet out there, “look!”
Indeed, Fievel was out there, but yet dizzy and exhausted from getting knocked out. Underneath a destroyed, burning barrel, he got to his feet and tried pulling himself together. Suddenly, some tiny pieces of wood fell into the water just inches in front of him, alarming him awake. Nearby, two firefighters, using a powerful water hose, blasted out water on the fire with high pounds per square inch. They ended up blasting the barrel, inadvertently forcing water further and further apart from the pier. Fievel attempted to get himself above water as the hose blasted the barrel into a burning chest, breaking to pieces upon impact. As the water from the hose simmered down, the water near the chest flowed into a hole, taking Fievel with it, separating him much further off by his loved ones, hearing the frustrated rat shout his name.
Later that evening, it was pouring rain and there was a chill in the air. At a dark alley, very far from the pier, there stood some young mice gathering around an unconscious Fievel. This was New York City’s Orphan Alley, but unlike Tony and Bridget who helped Fievel out, he was not very sympathetic. “Get a load of this, right,” said one of them as Fievel started awakening.
“Hey, boy, you’re sleeping in my place,” said another mouse to Fievel.
“What,” asked Fievel as he awakened and looked at the mice.
“Hey, give me that,” complained the mouse as he snatched his blanket apart from the boy.
“Had any food on ya?”
“Hey, what’s your story,” asked one of the mice as he picked Fievel up from his sweater and looked him in the eye.
“I-I’ve been looking for my family,” replied Fievel hesitantly.
The orphan mice swiftly started laughing at Fievel’s misfortune. “Hey, fellas, he’s looking for his family,” one of them mocked.
“He’s looking for his family,” mocked the others as Fievel looked on, hesitant.
“I stopped that a long time ago,” said the second mouse as he caught Fievel.
“At least you know who they are.”
“Yes,” said the mouse holding Fievel as he threw him to the hay on the ground.
“Why are you looking for them? They should be looking.....”
“For you,” everyone said as they pointed at Fievel.
“They don’t care,” said one of them, “forget them.”
Horribly serious by their words, seeing that he was yet separated from his family, but also Tony and Bridget, Fievel grew with emotional outrage. Tears swelled up in his eyes before he swung his arms around in frustration. “You’re right! They don’t care, and if they did so, they would’ve found me! Well if they don’t care, I don’t care! I don’t care if I NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN,” he lamented before landing in a tiny puddle.
The orphan mice mercilessly mocked Fievel again. “Yes, you’re nothing! You’re junk! You’re trash!”
“Here, make yourself a bed,” said another mouse as he tossed some hay on the downcast Fievel.
The mice left the disheartened mouse to himself as he started losing his temper and became overwhelmed with despair once again. Curling himself into a ball, holding his legs together and having lost all hope, Fievel started weeping. “I’ll never see each other again anyhow. Never...never...never,” he sobbed, “this is my home now.”
He buried his face into his legs as he let out a loud, anguished shriek. He was at his lowest low now. From having tried endlessly to find his family but continuously failing, to almost being murdered by the cats, to getting separated from all his friends and now getting stranded in this hostile alleyway, he had no hope left in him. A rainstorm gently let out rain and lightning as Fievel wept through the night, feeling lost forever.
Throughout the long night, the rainstorm carried on and on until eventually, at the break of dawn, it settled down as the sun appeared over the horizon, starting a new day in New York City. For some, this was the start of a new era, for mortal enemies had been dealt with and a new life could begin, but for one lone little mouse, he was yet lost, alone and very depressed, but also having given up. Huddled in a cold, foggy corner of the Orphan Alley, Fievel shivered as he slept. Too consoled with disgrace to care about his condition, Fievel stayed in his cold spot, sleeping apart. As he slept though, a voice called out in the distance. “Fievel!”
Barely awake, and attempting to stay warm, Fievel did not notice or care. “Fievel,” the voice called again.
Fievel briefly opened his eyes and closed them again, not caring who was making that noise.
What Fievel didn’t know however was the person calling him was his sister, Tanya. Traveling through the mist with her family, she looked around the area, searching for her long-lost brother. “Fievel,” she called again.
Alongside her and her family for this final effort to find Fievel were Tony, Bridget, Gussie and Tiger. The mice rode on Tiger, but the mist was too thick for them to see. “Fillie,” called Bridget.
“Hey, Fillie Mousekowitz,” called Tony.
While everyone else was focused on finding Fievel though, Gussie was intrigued about something else. “I never dreamed this morning I would be riding a feline,” she said.
Tiger chuckled before asking, “a feline?”
“A cat,” replied Gussie.
“I knew this,” chuckled Tiger as he kept strolling forward, “I knew that.”
The only one not bothering to look as much as the others was Papa. “Keep playing,” said Gussie to Papa, urging him to play his violin, “keep playing. We will find him.”
Back with Fievel, he was at last awake, but he yet didn’t hear any of the calls for his name. He slowly got to his feet and trudged to a nearby puddle, too depressed to care what would happen to him now. “Fievel,” called Tanya again, only to get no response.
In the fog nearby, Tanya and the others strolled on, unaware that Fievel was just yards apart from them. “Fievel,” called Tanya.
“Fievel, where are you,” called Mama.
But their calls for their friend weren’t responded. By now, Fievel reached the edge of the puddle, until suddenly, he heard someone call his name again. “Fievel,” called Papa, eventually taking a chance in hoping his son was alive, “Fievel!”
Fievel heard this voice and recognized it as Papa’s. “Papa,” he silently muttered, before slowly realizing that Papa was looking for him, “Papa.”
With this, his hopes began to rise inside him once again and a grin formed on his face. His family truly did care for him and was looking for him, just like how he was looking for them. “Papa,” said Fievel again.
“Fievel,” called Papa.
“PAPA,” exclaimed Fievel before moving around in the puddle, trying to find him, “where are you? Papa!”
Back with the others, Papa heard Fievel’s call for him and his hope rose instantly. “Fievel? Wait, stop,” he said to Tiger before getting off and rushing to where he heard his son, “FIEVEEEEEEELLL!!!”
“I’M-A COMING, PAPA,” replied Fievel happily before eventually, the two found each other.
“FIEVEL!”
“PAPA!!”
The father and son ran to each other and embraced together, landing in the water. They hugged each other tightly, beyond ecstatic and happy to be back together. “Oh, Fievel,” cried Papa.
“Fievel,” asked Mama from nearby.
“MAMA, LOOK,” exclaimed Papa as he rose his son into the air.
“Mama,” exclaimed Fievel upon seeing his mother.
Upon seeing her son, Mama grew with intense emotion and happiness as well. She rushed to her son and embraced with him. She gave him a big hug as the two parents chuckled with glee. Their son was at last back with them, safe and sound. Tiger, also overcome with emotion, dove toward his new friends and embraced with them too. Gussie was also overcome with emotion, and she let it out by hugging Tiger. “What’s come over me,” she asked, “I am hugging a cat.”
“I’ve never been so happy in my life,” said Tiger happily, “I have friends. Lots of little, tiny friends!”
The Mousekowitz family gathered on the cowboy hat that Tiger was hugging, while Tony and Bridget watched from nearby. “Oh, Tony, isn’t it grand,” asked Bridget, happy to see Fievel back with his family.
“Say, I don’t hear no one thanking me here,” said Tony, thinking he was being ignored.
But Tony was suddenly met with Bridget giving him a big kiss, and sending him into a happy awe as the two landed in the water, happy to be together. Back with the Mousekewitz family, they kept up with their happy reunion. “Oh, Fievel, I knew you were alive,” cried Tanya as she hugged her brother, “I knew it!”
“Oh, my little boy back from the dead,” said Mama as she hugged her son, “....America....what a place.”
“My Fievel,” said Papa as he took his turn in embracing with Fievel, “I thought I would never see each other again.”
“Never say never, Papa,” replied Fievel.
Papa chuckled upon hearing Fievel’s words, remembering these words from before, and how he motivated this outcome of the adventure to come to pass. “Oh, I almost forgot,” said Papa before giving Fievel his hat, “here, Fievel, your hat.”
Papa dropped the hat onto Fievel’s head. Like before, it almost slipped apart, but this time, Fievel extended his ears upward and this time, the hat stayed there, showing that the hat fit, and Fievel had grown a little while on this adventure. “Your hat...it fits,” said a proud Mama.
“My son,” added Papa, proud of his boy, “now...you are a mouse.”
Soaring through the cloudy heavens, high above New York City, Fievel and Tanya rode through the air on Henri’s back. Proud that Fievel had found his family, just like he hoped he would, Henri flew around happily, announcing something else that was worth expressing in the joy. “My statue...is...done,” he said, “oh lalalalalala, wait till you see her. She is...beautiful. Magnificent!”
Alongside Henri were his fellow pigeons. The doves had a nice view of the city one last time before departing. On Chantal’s back, Papa and Mama rode on, though Mama was hesitant of being up so high in the heavens and held on tight to her husband while covering her eyes. “Mama, look,” said Papa, enjoying himself, “don’t be frightened! Open your eyes!”
Everyone flew around the newly complete Statue of Liberty, ready to get a front view of it. “Mama, you are missing everything,” said Papa.
“Papa, if we land, I’ll look,” replied Mama.
Tiger also flew alongside the family, though in his case, he was supported by four pigeons, three of which held onto his paws while the fourth held his tail. Despite this, Tiger was enjoying himself and the pigeons were happy to help him. “Woah, this is, oh, woah, wow, oh, I, oh, this is nice! Oh, thanks, fellas! I appreciate you coming back for me. You in the front, higher, higher,” he said to his pigeons as he was taken higher into the heavens, spinning around while doing so.
“Oh, Henri, she’s so beautiful,” said Tanya.
“Wow,” added Fievel, who was also gazing at the beautiful statue.
Everyone flew to the very front of the statue and saw Lady Liberty in all her glory. Officially full, holding the torch way up high into the heavens and staring out into the distance, the statue stood on her pedestal, now an eternal symbol of the country and its freedom. This statue was immensely beautiful for everyone to see, and as Fievel and Tanya looked on, the statue’s eye blinked at them, almost as if it was happy they were together again. The two siblings looked at each other and chuckled before Fievel spotted something up ahead. “Henri, what’s that over there,” he asked as he pointed out to the distance.
“Oh, that is more America,” replied Henri as they looked out over the horizon.
“Can we go see it,” asked Fievel.
“Ohohohoho, you will...my little American,” said Henri, “hahahaha! Someday...you will!”
“Farewell,” said Fievel and Tanya as they waved a farewell to the sparrows as Henri flew away.
And then, with the adventure full, For Fievel, he was back with family in America, had numerous more friends past his side, from Henri, to Tony, to Bridget and Tiger, and an entire new beginning for him and his family had just begun. Perhaps someday he’d get to experience more of America with his loved one and get to reunite with his family, but for now, their new life in the land of the free was just beginning. Who knew what new adventure would come to pass for the Mousekewitz family in this American tale.