it's the new york kennel club, emile, not the new york knickerbockers. please call the caterer and cancel the beer.
when competing in a dog show, best to bring one's dog along, yes?
see? empty. but now they both notice the door to their suite is wide open.
oh, dear god! the elderly couple do their version of a panicked run inside.
ahhhh!! my baby! someone's kidnapped my baby!
please! please help!
not 'a' dog, no. the new york
justice?! i want them executed! tortured first, slowly, and then beheaded!
what are those?
rumaki! yech! you might as well wrap dog turds in bacon. take them away. a society friend of mrs. lo biancho, babs, arrives to pay her respects, shuffling her feet across and leaning in to trade air kisses.
dear babs. i'm at wit's end. when she turns on morty and bruce, they both jump a little.
you! tell the thieves i'll pay anything they want! anything!
precisely!
i'll give them ten grand, tops, but only if the dog's back before show time.
yes? morty and bruce have their tracing gear rigged to her phone but have to keep following her around the box.
-- i'll give you ten grand but only if he's in madison square garden in.  she looks to her husband, who consults his watch and then holds up one finger.
one hour. take it or leave it. bruce signals her -- keep him on the line!
you have one minute to decide. she hangs up. bruce and morty sigh.
yesss?
-- first of all, you forgot to disguise your voice.
secondly, my husband will meet you in ten minutes on the corner of 43rd and broadway. he'll have the money. bring the dog.
fine.
the police, it appears, have other priorities, like humans or something. and i assure you, the hotel security.  people.  will not interfere. in any case, little man, we just want the dog back before showtime, do you understand?
ciao. she hangs up. roger does, too.
good god. he's mauve.
flog her! step aside and i'll whip her myself!
so she had an accomplice! we'll beat the information out of the little wench! get him cleaned up, emile. williamson and hogan move drew toward their car.