Fidget: I'm going! I'm going! I'm going.
Dr. Dawson: Scoundrel's quite gone.
Basil: But not for long, Miss Flamhammer.
Olivia Flaversham: Flaversham.
Basil: Whatever.
Basil: There's always a chance, Doctor, as long as one can think.
Ratigan: Bravo! Bravo! A marvelous performance! Although I was expecting you fifteen minutes earlier. Trouble with the chemistry set, old boy?
Dr. Dawson: Oh, my! Upon my word. I've never seen so many toys.
Basil: Behind any of which could lurk a blood-thirsty assassin! So, please, Doctor, be very careful.
Ratigan: Oh, my dear Bartholomew. I'm afraid that you've gone and upset me. You know what happens when someone upsets me.
Ratigan: Fidget, you delightful little maniac! You've provided me with a singular opportunity. Poor Basil. Oh, he's in for a little surprise.
Basil: Ratigan, no-one can have a higher opinion of you than I have, and I think you're a slimy, contemptible sewer rat.
Dr. Dawson: You're... despicable.
Ratigan: Hehe... Yes.
Basil: Aha, Dawson! We've found it at last. Ratigan's secret lair. And it's filthier than I imagined.
Basil: Don't worry, old fellow. It's not entirely hopeless.
Ratigan: Now, you will remember to smile for the camera, won't you? Say "Cheese."
Ratigan: Oh, Felicia, my precious, my baby. Did daddy's little honey-bunny enjoy her tasty treat?
