[Style: Theatrical gangster swing, gravelly male mafia crooner, dark jazz cabaret, brass stabs, upright bass, one male vocalist performing every character] [Intro: Rain, vinyl crackle, muted trumpet] [Don: Deadly serious spoken] "Twelve premium tuna cans. Gone." "Somebody's getting neutered." [Rat impression: Nervous] "Boss, we're already neutered." [Don] "THEN TWICE." [Verse 1: Swaggering swing] I'm the black cat king of the gutter and drain, Got nine lives, six warrants, and a criminal brain. The pigeons pay taxes, the dogs pay respect, My rats run the books—what the hell did you expect? Vincent's my accountant, little tie made of floss, He says, "We're in debt!" I say, "Who's the damn boss?" He says, "You ate the profits." I say, "Watch your tone!" Then I lick the tuna oil off my telephone. [Pre-Chorus: Suspenseful bass] Twelve cans vanished at a quarter past three, The whole damn block's gonna answer to me. I summoned the family, shut every gate— "Nobody eats till we settle this fate!" [Chorus: Explosive brass swing] WELCOME TO THE TUNA SYNDICATE! KIBBLE IN THE VAULT AND A PIGEON ON THE GATE! KISS THE PAW! RESPECT THE CLAW! EVERY TRASH CAN ANSWERS TO THE LAW! WE RUN THE GUTTERS! WE OWN THE STREET! FORTY RAT SOLDIERS WITH TINY FEET! CROSS THE FAMILY, YOU'LL REGRET YOUR FATE— AND NOBODY TOUCHES MY DINNER PLATE! [Verse 2: Playful clarinet, sudden brass stabs] Maria's my enforcer, a calico delight, She kisses little kittens, then starts a street fight. "Would you like some biscuits?"—sweet as cherry pie. "I'LL PLUCK YOU LIKE A PIGEON!"—Jesus Christ, WHY?! "Maria, sweetheart, please, we're being discreet." "Of course, darling!"—then she bites the police. She's got two personalities, both collecting a fee; One wants a cuddle, one wants your kneecaps for tea. [Verse 3: Mock-sacred organ, absurd solemnity] Mylo the tabby wears a bag for a crown, The High Priest of Cardboard, most devout cat in town. He preaches from a shoebox, calls the rats to attend: "IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE BOX! AND THE BOX HAD NO END!" "Blessed are the folded! Let the paper bags rise!" He baptizes a mouse in a carton of fries. I say, "Mylo, the shipment?" He says, "Have some faith." I say, "Your holy box better keep my dinner safe." [Chorus: Big band, harder] WELCOME TO THE TUNA SYNDICATE! KIBBLE IN THE VAULT AND A PIGEON ON THE GATE! KISS THE PAW! RESPECT THE CLAW! EVERY TRASH CAN ANSWERS TO THE LAW! WE RUN THE GUTTERS! WE OWN THE STREET! FORTY RAT SOLDIERS WITH TINY FEET! CROSS THE FAMILY, YOU'LL REGRET YOUR FATE— AND NOBODY TOUCHES MY DINNER PLATE! [Bridge: Noir strings, whispered interrogation] [Don] "Vincent. The evidence." [Rat impression] "We found the tuna, boss." [Don] "Where?" [Rat impression] "Inside Mylo's sacred box." [Music cuts] [Don] "Mylo." [Priest impression] "A divine offering!" [Don: Furious] "YOU OFFERED MY DINNER TO A SHIPPING CONTAINER?!" [Don: Sweet Maria impression] "Everybody calm down, darlings." [Don: Sudden snarl] "I'LL BURY HIM IN THE LITTER!" [Don] "MARIA! DROP THE CHEESE GRATER!" "RELIGIOUS FREEDOM ENDS WHERE MY TUNA BEGINS!" [Breakdown: Door creaks, ominous strings] [Don: Whisper] "Then the human entered." "Two legs. No tail." "And in its hand..." "THE HOWLING CYLINDER." [Vacuum starts, frantic brass] Vincent lost his briefcase! Maria climbed the blinds! Mylo cried, "THE BOX HAS FALLEN!" The rats resigned nine times! My empire met its maker, A domestic cleaning machine— I dove into the holy box And prayed I'd not be seen! [Silence: Vacuum stops] [Don: Muffled from box] "Tactical retreat." "Put that in the minutes." [Final Chorus: Triumphant big band] LONG LIVE THE TUNA SYNDICATE! WE SURVIVED THE DEVIL WITH A PLASTIC SNAKE! KISS THE PAW! RESPECT THE CLAW! I NEVER BROKE A SINGLE MAFIA LAW! THE RATS WANT PENSIONS! MYLO WANTS A SHRINE! MARIA'S ON PROBATION FOR THE SEVENTH TIME! SOMEONE STILL OWES ME TWELVE CANS, MATE— AND NOBODY TOUCHES MY DINNER PLATE! [Outro: Lonely trumpet, rain] [Don: Solemn spoken] "Vincent. Casualties?" [Rat impression] "Three boxes. One curtain. Your dignity." [Don] "Cross out the last one." [Pause] "Where's Maria?" [Don: Sweet impression] "Right here, darling!" [Vacuum clicks on] [Don: Horrified] "Mother of mackerel..." [Off-key trumpet] [End]
