Mom.
Hi. Where's Stuart?
You mean he's not home?
Oh, I just remembered. He told me to
tell you that he's rehearsing again.
At Will's house. And he's
sleeping over there tonight.
Sleepover? On a school night?
Hey, that's what he said. Got to go.
Hello?
Hey, Will. It's me, George. If my mom
calls, Stuart's at your house, okay?
Hold on a second.
Hello?
Will, hi. It's Mrs. Little. May
I speak with Stuart, please?
- Stuart?
- You know, my son.
Oh, Stuart. You mean now?
Well, now is when I'm calling.
Oh, he just went in the bathroom.
I think he'll be a while. He brought a magazine.
- Well, then, is your mother there?
- Hold on a second.
- I told her.
- Did she buy it?
Yeah, but now she wants to speak to my mom.
What will I tell her?
Make something up. You're smart.
If I was smart, I wouldn't be in this situation.
She can't come to the phone right now.
She's in the bathroom, too.
But not the same bathroom!
- Just let her know I called. Thanks.
- Okay, Mrs. Little.
- It's all clear.
- I owe you one.
- Now will you tell me what's going on?
- It's too complicated. Later.
Little hi, Little low.
Little hey, Little ho.
- Boys home?
- Well, George is.
But Stuart is rehearsing his play.
Then he's sleeping over at Will's house.
- He's going without George?
- I think it'll give him room to grow.
Oh, Stuart, we've been walking for hours.
I can't take another step.
You know me, I hate to be negative.
But when I walk this much, I chafe.
Also, I hate to bring this up...
... but I need to go tinky.
How about the alley?
I'm a house cat. We're fastidious creatures.
We don't just yell, "Bomb's away!"
and go wherever we are!
Oh, look, let's face it. We'll never find her.
If only we knew someone
who really knew the city.
Yeah, someone who knows
the city's disgusting underbelly.
Who do I know that's disgusting?
Don't threaten me! What I could
tell the health inspector...
... would close you down in a New York minute!
Hey, Monty!
Snowbell! What are you doing here?
- We've been looking all over for you.
- We need your help.
Hey, Snow, buddy, are you two still friends
or can I eat him?
- No, Monty, you can't eat him.
- Please.
No! Now, pay attention.
What do you know about a bird called Falcon?
Falcon? Oh, that's a bad guy.
You don't want to fool with him.
You know where we can find him?
You don't want to find him.
You don't want anything to do with him.
Trust me.
He'd eat you so fast you'd be piled up in poop
before you could yell for help.
Falcons are vicious.
They grab you by your neck and carry you
so high, you can't even see the ground.
Then they drop you. And by thew time you hit the
pavement, they drink what's left through a straw.
Snowbell, are you all right?
Oh, yeah. In fact, good news:
I no longer need a litter box.
Ha ha ha. Mop up on aisle three. Silly!
Stu, listen. This whole thing
has been a groove and a gas...
... but it's important to know when the fun's over.
You don't want to be that last pathetic person
who leaves a party.
I told you. I'm not giving up.
We're going to find the falcon.
All right, then. It's your funeral.
Okay, listen. Listen carefully.
The falcon lives across the park...
... at the very tiptop of the Pishkin Building.
Not many people go up there.
And even fewer return.
Well, here we are, Snowbell. This is it.
- Snowbell?
- "Salmon, catfish, tuna."
Why do they taunt me?
Snowbell, how can you think of food
at a time like this? Stay on track, will you?
I'm nervous. When I'm nervous, I eat.
Because I know in my growling gut that
if anything happens to you, I'll be blamed.
I'm sure they already know we're gone
and plan to replace me with a hamster.
Don't worry. George has us covered.
George? George doesn't know
poop from applesauce.
And I say that with a great deal of affection.
- Hello, Little residence.
- Oh, George. I'm glad you answered.
Who is it? Can you speak louder, please?
George, it's me,