The Cat from Outer Space

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(whirring sound overhead)

(clucking)

(neighing)

(chickens clucking/cows mooing)

What is it?

What is that light?

l don't know.

(banging)

You stay right here, Edna.

Don't leave the house.

Im gonna take a look at it.

Come on, Dutch.

(whimpers)

Chicken.

Holy mackerel!

(male voice) This is Earth Probe Zunar J5

calling Mother Ship.

Zunar J5 calling Mother Ship.

Come in. Mother Ship.

This is Earth Probe Zunar J5

calling Mother Ship.

(female voice) This is Mother Ship.

Have you completed emergency landing?

Affirmative. Mother.

Request repair party.

Negative. Zunar J5. You'll have to

effect emergency repairs yourself.

and rendezvous with us at grid dissect

8304 at 69 hours minus 17.

- That's an awfully tight squeeze.

- Unavoidable. Zunar.

Next mission to this galaxy due in 115.

- Days?

- Years.

Good luck. Zunar J5.

Over and out.

Yeah. So long. Mother.

(whistles)

l don't see any hammer and sickle,

do you, Colonel?

Maybe it's on the inside, General.

No sign of life, either.

Get me the Pentagon, red priority.

l want to speak to the chiefs, Colonel.

- Captain.

- Sergeant.

Yes, sir.

Sequoia here.

Come in, Rover.

Rover?

Rover?

Rover?

Rover?

(General) Wipe it out of your minds.

You've seen nothing and heard nothing.

- Yes, sir.

- We'll want them later.

Take their names. Colonel.

Captain.

- Sergeant.

- Yes, sir.

- Names?

- Charlie Cooney.

General Stilton!

We're ready when you are, sir.

- Bullhorn.

- Yes, sir.

On to Hopscotch.

All right, men.

Let's move it!

- Let's move out. Colonel.

- Captain.

- Sergeant.

- Yes, sir.

(electronic beeping)

(collar beeps)

(General) When we get to Hopscotch,

l want mark-four priority security.

Armor, personnel, guard dogs, the works.

And not one word to public relations.

Not one word.

You got that, Colonel?

Yes, sir.

You got that, Captain?

- Yes, sir. Sergeant?

- Got it.

Well?

It's a brilliant technological achievement.

Its state of the art.

You trying to tell me something,

Allison?

- Its definitely not one of ours, General.

- How about Russia?

Certainly not Russia.

Its far beyond...

OK, Allison. Lay it on the line.

Whose is it?

l don't know, General.

We'd better find out. l wanna know who

made it, flew it and where it came from.

- Colonel?

- Yes, sir.

Contact SigCom on our radio.

Get Hungerford at Air.

Call Steinmetz at Johns Hopkins,

Lasser, Billings, Cranhammer.

- Get them IQs off their tennis courts.

- Yes, sir.

Double pronto!

lf we don't find out where that thing came

from, this country could be in trouble,

big, big trouble.

- Colonel.

- Captain.

- Sergeant.

- Yes, sir.

You say it's not man-made, Allison.

What's that leave us?

Outer space.

With no sign of the pilot.

Big, big trouble.

While you and l are talking

this very minute,

some slimy green-headed 12-legged creep

could be crawling into the White House.

Big, big trouble.

We're up against genius.

We'd better come up

with some genius of our own.

(man) l believe, General, you've

already met my assistant, Dr. Corday.

Id like to introduce

some members of our team.

Dr. Robeson of Caltech,

who's our expert on fossil fuel.

Professor Hurakawa of Johns Hopkins.

Dr. Elizabeth Bartlett, who heads Thermal.

Huh.

Dr. Norman Link, who's been doing

some intriguing work in garbage research.

- So what?

- Dr. Link.

Just a second, Dr. Heffel. l have to relay

some vital information to a colleague.

Oh, yes. This is our hard-water man,

Dr. Leach.

Right, Ernie. The Lakers by a point

and a half for 100 bucks.

When will you have the line

on Philly and the New York Knicks?

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