Pup Page #5

I am Karl Wolf.

Karl Wolf!

The Karl Wolf?

The famous couturier?

Not couturier, darlings.

Designer.

I prefer that.

Better. Less vulgar.

(All shrieking excitedly)

(Laughing)

I can make you all

queens of the catwalk.

(Sheep screaming indistinctly)

Oh, no. Victoria, Cloe, Fancy.

What's happened to them?

It's all my fault.

I bet I'll be crowned queen of the moon

as soon as they set eyes on me.

All you ever think about is yourself.

- There's no one else here, is there?

- Hmm!

Grumbo, seat belt.

(Whistling)

Huh?

Canine patrol at your service.

(Knocking at door)

Grumbo, on your feet. Discipline.

That's what every good

farm dog needs, is discipline.

Mm--

Grumbo can herd cows, hunt, track,

tie knots, mow your lawn,

and he's also a first-class sheepdog.

We already have a sheepdog, thank you.

Kanuto? You call him a sheepdog?

Speaking of which, where is Blackie?

Blackie isn't the only lost

sheep on this farm.

You know darn well what I mean.

It's all Kanuto's fault.

He looks all business, don't he?

WOMAN:
That may be,

but as soon as Kanuto's back,

this pit bull can clear off.

Have him on trial for a week.

After that, you can tell me

whether you want him or not.

MAN:
If he finds Blackie, he's staying.

Whoa.

This isn't good.

(Music playing)

(Music playing)

(Music playing)

(Gasping)

Go on. Take it.

Take it. Come on.

MAN:
Yeah. There they are.

Got them.

Now look me in the face, you circus dog,

because as a sheepdog you're a joke.

Uh--

You got nothing more

to worry about, Blackie.

Daddy's here.

(Sighing)

Rest, Blackie. Rest.

You're back home now.

No one's going to bother you now,

especially Kanuto.

So put your head down.

Bad dog.

You're a bad, bad dog.

Is that how you look after the flock?

Where are the rest of the sheep?

- Stop.

- Huh?

Where do you think you're going?

(Humming)

Have you got something wrong

with your eyes?

Who are you?

Your worst nightmare, darling.

So I'd advise you

to get your act together

before I lose my temper

and dye you white,

just like you deserve.

(Growling)

But first, give me 10 push-ups.

Push-ups?

Yeah, push-ups.

You know what push-ups are, don't you?

Uh, well--

PEPE:
Oh, I know what they are.

Yeah, push-ups.

They're sort of pancake, aren't they?

Pancakes yourselves!

Here, watch a real push-ups pro.

Push-ups pro.

(Grunting softly)

Well, he looks happy with himself.

Yeah, but so does the village idiot.

What did you say?

I, uh, I said I couldn't

do it better myself.

You there.

I gave you 10 push-ups.

So get to it.

Ten-hut!

And the rest of you,

general inspection.

Empty your pockets on the double.

Hey, you. I can't hear you counting!

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