With The Boxtrolls

Chapter Eight: Snatcher's Lair

In Snatcher's factory, Fish’s frightened face peeks out from under his box lid and it is revealed that he is in a cage being stared at by the three Redhats- Pickles, Trout, and Gristle. Gristle reaches up and pokes him with a cricket bat. He says in a sinister whisper. "Poke."

Mr. Pickles wonders. "You ever wonder what they’re thinkin’ ‘bout, Mr. Trout?"

"I imagine they’re evaluating their life choices."

"Ah. Wonderin’ why they chose to be evil, disgusting monsters instead of good guys like us!"

"Wrong, Mr. Pickles!" The three turn to see Snatcher, coming down a long walkway behind them, backlit by tall windows. He finishes drying his face with a towel, then walks towards them, orating. "A boxtroll cannot choose a new life because a boxtroll does not aspire to be anything more than a weak, lowly pest. But a man -- a great man!" He tosses the towel, arms wide. "And his..."

"Colleagues?"

"Best chums?"

Snatcher continues. "... stooges... can choose to change their lives." Our dreams are in our grasp! Snatcher lifts Mr. Gristle into the air. "Let us be dream-graspers, fatesnatchers, destiny-takers! Let us grasp our dreams and shove them down everyone’s throat! Am I not right?

"THROAT!"

"YES!" Snatcher throws Gristle and Pickles catches him in his arms, holding him like a small child. Gristle smiles maniacally.

Mr. Pickles speaks up. "That’s why your name is the boss, boss!"

"I’mnotastooge, am I?" Mr. Trout asks as he and Pickles releases Gristle and they follow Snatcher.

"Now, gentlemen. What better way to dream than to walk in the shoes of those to whom we aspire? Mr. Pickles, fetch the-"

"Shoes?"

"Clogs?"

Mr. Gristle brandishing cricket bat. "BAT!"

"Cheese." Snatcher walks away as Trout and Pickles blanche remembering what happens everytime they do this. Their faces go from rapt attention to apprehension. Gristle just keeps his deranged grin.

"Oh no."

"Oh dear."

"Nice! Heh heh heh heh heh..."