With The Boxtrolls

Chapter Nine: Eggs Saves Fish

Cheesebridge looms quietly overhead. The camera slowly pans down as Eggs reaches an intersection and stops at the street signs:  Milk Ave and Curds Way. He looks around at the industrial wasteland. In the distance is one lone building with a bloody red top hat painted on the huge wooden door. Eggs heads toward it.

In Snatcher's factory, Snatcher’s grimy hands is holding up a white hat made out of paper. "Men, don your white hats." Snatcher lowers the paper hat onto his head. Across the table from him the Redhats replace their red hats with paper white hats. They all sit at a table set with cracked crockery and mismatched plates.

"Are you sure about this, boss? You  know what cheese can do to you..."

Snatcher tucks a napkin into his collar. "Unless you are referring to how cheese brings men of respect and power together in brotherhood, no, I do not know what..." He looms menacingly. “Cheese. Does. To. Me.”

Mr. Pickles gulps. "That’s what I meant then."

"Marvelous! Then let us begin."

Trout takes a little piece of cheese out of a package labeled 'Extra Mild Cheddar'. He focuses and cuts off the tiniest little sliver and puts it on a plate, inspects it and slices it into an even smaller piece... then slices it again... and again... and again... and-

Snatcher getting impatient yells. "ENOUGH!" Snatcher bangs his fist on the table. Startled, Pickles and Trout jump. Then Trout puts a tiny slice of cheese on a plate  and very slowly rotates the top of the table like a Lazy Susan. It takes forever for Snatcher’s plate to arrive in  front of him.

Snatcher loses patience again and spins the table so that a plate lands in front of him. As he moves to pierce the cheese with his fork, the plate shifts to the left. He glares at Mr. Trout and Mr. Pickles, who turned the table top.

They immediately return the plate. The Redhats stare nervously as Snatcher stabs the curd and raises it to his lips and places it on his tongue. He chews, relishing it, then swallows. Snatcher smiles enjoying the cheese. "Mmmm!" The Redhats relax. They take a tiny piece of cheese each and eat it. "I say, old chaps, it’s quite, um... Quite-"

Mr Trout perks up. "-Aromatic? Oaky? With an undertone of a mother’s smile on a warm spring day? Hmm..."

"Yes! Those things! Etcetera etcetera, big words, chummy banter..." The Redhats look on in horror as red spots appear across Snatcher’s face. He scratches at them absently.

Mr Pickles whispers to Trout. "Someone’s got the cheese fits again." He shudders at this and whispers to Gristle.

"Quickly, quietly, get the leeches." Gristle scurries away to get what is needed, crossing behind Snatcher.

"QUIETLY!"

Snatcher slurs like a drunk man wondering where Gristle is going. "Where is he going? Is he getting more cheese?" Snatcher’s lips instantly puff up into huge, wobbly, distended fish lips. The Redhats stare-

"Quietly!"

"What?"

Mr. Pickles scared of what might happen tries to stop his boss. "I think you’ve had enough for today, boss."

In the background, Eggs’ silhouette appears in the sootcovered window. He wipes away the grime to look in. Eggs looks away from the window up at a large, rickety air duct attached to the side of the building. He climbs into the duct, leaving his disguise behind.

Snatcher’s face is now grotesquely misshapen and one eye has swollen shut like Quasimodo. He slurs by his swollen lips. "Isn’t this nice? Chewing the cheddar with the big cheessses. Holding my own-" He gulps his cheese. "-With sssophissstication and sssavoir faire!"