Isle of Dogs

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1

(WIND HOWLING)

(BANGS GONG)

(LIGHTS MATCHSTICK)

Ten centuries ago,

before the Age of Obedience,

free dogs roamed at liberty,

marking their territory.

Seeking to extend

its dominion,

the cat-loving

Kobayashi Dynasty declared war

and descended in force

upon the unwary

four-legged beasts.

On the eve

of total canine annihilation,

a child warrior

sympathetic to the plight

of the besieged underdog dogs

betrayed his species,

beheaded the head of the head

of the Kobayashi clan

and pledged his sword

with the following

battle-cry haiku.

I turn my back

On man-kind!

Frost on window-pane.

He would later be known

as the Boy Samurai

of Legend, RIP.

At the end

of the bloody dog wars,

the vanquished mongrels

became powerless house-pets:

tamed, mastered, scorned.

But they survived

and multiplied.

The Kobayashis, however,

never forgave

their conquered foe.

(DRUMMING)

(SHOUTS)

NARRATOR:

The Japanese archipelago,

20 years in the future.

(SPEAKING JAPANESE)

NARRATOR:
Canine Saturation

has reached

epidemic proportions.

An outbreak of Snout-fever

rips through

the City of Megasaki.

Blizzards of infected fleas,

worms, ticks and lice

menace the citizenship.

Dog-Flu threatens to cross

the species threshold

and enter

the human disease-pool.

(KOBAYASHI SPEAKING JAPANESE)

In a special midnight-session

at the Municipal Dome,

Mayor Kobayashi

of Uni Prefecture

issues emergency orders

calling for

a hasty quarantine:

the expulsion and containment

of all breeds,

both stray and domesticated.

By official decree,

Trash Island

becomes an exile colony.

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)

The Isle of Dogs.

(SPEAKING JAPANESE)

(SPEAKING JAPANESE)

(CLEARS THROAT)

(SPEAKING JAPANESE)

It's not fair to the dogs.

The path favored

by Mayor Kobayashi

is cruel and unscientific.

For a thousand years,

these resilient animals

have loved,

served and protected us.

Now, in their time

of greatest need,

we forsake them again?

A tidal-wave

of Anti-Dog hysteria

has crippled

our moral judgment.

Give me six months,

and I will deliver a serum.

I'm this close, dammit.

Dog-Flu will be eradicated.

Snout-fever will be defeated.

Canine Saturation

will be returned

to sustainable levels

and without mass-neutering!

(SPEAKING JAPANESE)

to man's best friend?

(CROWD JEERING)

No, no, no!

The crowd is calling

for the immediate ratification

and approval

of the mayor's proposal.

(SPEAKING JAPANESE)

gesture of public solidarity,

Mayor Kobayashi

is calling upon

his Assistant Hatchet-Man,

Major-Domo,

to furnish

the personal bodyguard-dog

of the mayoral-household,

Spots Kobayashi,

into the possession

of the Committee

for Canine Desaturation.

Spots will be the first dog

to be officially deported

from the city.

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)

(WIND HOWLING)

(RAT SQUEAKING)

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

NARRATOR:
Six months later.

(BARKING)

(SQUAWKING)

NARRATOR:
Nomadic packs

of once-domesticated

house-pets, sick and hungry,

rove the garbage canyons

and filthy ravines,

scrounging for scraps.

One hundred per cent

test positive

for the Dog-Flu germ.

Symptoms:

weight-loss, dizziness,

narcolepsy, insomnia,

and extreme/aggressive

behavior.

(GROWLING)

Three-quarters display signs

of early-onset Snout-fever:

high-temperature,

low blood-pressure,

acute moodiness

and spasmodic

nasal expiration.

The exiled dog-population

grows weaker, sadder, angrier.

Desperate.

(ALL GROWLING)

(GROWLING CONTINUES)

Hey, wait a second.

Before we attack each other

and tear ourselves to shreds

like a pack of maniacs,

let's just open the sack first

and see what's actually in it.

It might not even

be worth the trouble.

What do you say?

I'm not sure.

Maybe.

Alright.

A rancid apple core;

two worm-eaten banana peels;

a moldy rice cake;

a dried-up pickle;

tin of sardine bones;

a pile of broken egg-shells;

an old, smushed-up,

rotten gizzard

with maggots all over it...

Okay, it's worth it.

(ALL BARKING)

(HOWLS)

(ALL PANTING)

Get out of here

and don't come back.

Sheesh, Igor. I think

he chewed your ear off.

IGOR:
Hmm... Hmm.

(SNEEZES)

(FLIES BUZZING)

(RATS SQUEAKING)

(SPITS)

I don't think I can stomach

any more of this garbage.

Same here.

Words out of my mouth.

I used to sleep

on a lamb's-wool bean-bag

next to

an electric space-heater.

That's my territory.

I'm an indoor dog.

I starred in 22 consecutive

Doggy-Chop commercials.

Look at me now.

I couldn't land an audition.

I was the lead mascot

for an undefeated high-school

baseball team. (SNEEZES)

I lost all my spirit.

I'm depressing.

I only ask

for what I've always had:

a balanced diet,

regular grooming,

and a general physical

once a year.

I think I might give up.

What, right now?

Right now.

There's no future

on Trash Island.

(SNEEZES) You heard the rumor,

right? About Buster.

KING:
Not sure.

Can you remind me?

Who's Buster?

Uh, my brother

from another litter.

What happened to him?

Suicided.

Hanged himself

by his own leash.

- Hmm.

- Oh, boy.

I want my master.

CHIEF:
(SCOFFING) Ah...

You make me sick.

(VOMITS)

I've seen cats

with more balls than you dogs.

Stop licking your wounds!

You hungry?

Kill something and eat it.

You sick? Take a long nap.

You cold?

Dig a hole in the ground,

crawl into it,

and bury yourself.

But nobody's giving up

around here,

and don't you forget it, ever.

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