He turns his head toward you in slow-motion and barely.

He turns his head toward you in slow-motion and barely.

"We can still have that... that drink... yes."

"Let's drink."

"Yes..." his eyes light up... as much as they can.

"Hershel... to big assignments..." he raises his glass.

"To big assignments." (Drink.)

You both down another glass of schnapps. You don't feel the burn anymore.

"That... that hit the... spot well..." His face contorts.

"Hershel, do... you know what... else?"

"What?"

"This is just like how I used to imagine we would do it... in the old days..."

"..."

"Ignatz."

He doesn't respond.

Tap him on the shoulder.

No reaction.

Leave him be.

The cat watches you go.

"No."

"To friendly gossip." (Drink.)

"Terviseks." (Drink.)

"On second thought..." (Leave.)

"Cruel... cruel... Hershel..."

"Ah... Hershel..." he turns to you very, very slowly.

"Can I have.. bag too? Or where were we.... Oh. To drink to the craft... old friend."

"Let's drink to the craft."

"Of course, my friend, the expert spy... of the big spies..." he raises another glass to his mouth.

"To stagecraft."

You both down another glass of schnapps. It burns your throat.

"Do you know, Hershel, what else is happening? There is another secret... I know you, you will... appreciate..." He leans back and forth on his chair, trying to find balance.

He was alluding to something.

Put your hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"The big leagues are getting a bit stressful... even for a man of sheer talent... like me..." His head leans left on its axis.

"You've had it easy... me being your lead, sheltering you from the pressure... just so you could perform. How does it feel... to be so well supported?"

"Ignatz, you're drunk."

"This is... beyond the... scope of the, what, what I am about to say..." his tongue sticks out for a second, before he realizes and pulls it back.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this Hershel. But, but there's this individual, they call his -- him... the 'Grand Lich', and well, he's coming here... tomorrow in fact. To the, this, 'War Criminals Shrine'..."

Wow.

"And guess who's part of the counter intelligence security... detail on this high, highly sensitive... assignment? Working under... Mr. Tesoro...." His hand starts shaking as the air retreats from the room.

Oh dear.

"You?"

"Me... Ignatz, the specialist you... passed over..." he closes his eyes for an instant, then opens them again, looking in a different direction.

Pulled himself up by his bootstraps. Well done for him.

"Why didn't you tell me this on the rooftops?"

"Hershel, I only found out... just a bit ago... I guess my talents, of a de facto lead... have been noticed..." his breath is laboured.

"How many of you are going to be there?" (Proceed.)

"Hershel... you try... but I cannot say... I am not like one of those... leaky animals..."

He raises his glass to his mouth and drinks. Some of the schnapps runs over and drips on the table.

"You seem really nervous, Ignatz."

"Nervous... me? Oh no, I am just very excited. This is big, right... the biggest. You probably do... assignments like this all the time." He closes one eye.

"I call it my big break... the biggest job... of all time..." He half smiles.

He's scared shitless.

"Should you really be telling me this, Ignatz?" (Proceed.)

"Just some gossip... friendly gossip... between friends that go way, way back..." he leans forward.

"Let's keep it between ourselves and... have a drink to... the... biggest assignments, huh?"

One more drink and he won't make it.

"Good idea, let's have that drink."

"I'm not really sure about this."

"Come on now, Hershel... we've come so far together... tonight." His brow furrows.

The cat stays still.

"Ignatz, I really have to go. (Leave.)

"Hershel... please, please do... not go..." his voice trips over itself in his throat.

"When do you have to go?"

"Soon after... I have the drinks... I go in the morning, very early..." he nods.

"It seems like they picked the right man for the job."

"It is fuzzy and warm. You've been a great de facto lead."

"You are very, very welcome... Hershel... my old friend, pals like we are..."

"You really believe the things you're saying, don't you?"

"My delusions...? Our strengths... weaknesses... we are all human." He blinks rapidly.

"What's the secret?"

"What secret?"

"Tell me, Ignatz."

HA-HA. THE DRUNK FASCIST CANNOT STOP HIMSELF FROM REVEALING ALL OF THEIR SECRETS.

"To secrets." (Drink.)

"To friends." (Drink.)

Drink.

"No." (Leave.)

"I am not one... of your plastic... plastic toys that bounces back... a ball... every time you throw me..." he sighs to himself.

"Let us have a drink to the craft, now... now that you're back..."

"Hershel... did you think to honor the cat after all?" He asks and looks straight past you.

The cat glances just slightly at you, as if to finally register your presence, before turning away.

"Let's have one for the cat."

"Alright Hershel... you do not have to tell me twice." He raises his glass.

"Cheers to the cat." (Drink.)

You down another schnapps.

"I have to say that your cryptonym for me... 'IGNUTZ' -- it's not very impressive. I have one for you too... 'IGNORANT'."

"But luckily for you... I'm a forgiving man, and a kind man just so you know... take notice. I hope, you liked... working together again."

NO. RECORDS. FOUND.

"Your so-called 'sources' were just the Pretty Paws Grooming Service."

"Very good -- it would be... folly to think that my associates would tell a stranger what they are really up to..."

"An operant of your class, Hershel... You cannot be as naive as to think... that people give secrets up... so, so easily..."

Compelling.

"It was a great assignment, Ignatz."

"Great people... doing great things... catching the leaky animals where they... lay."

"Even bigger jobs... await." he says, as saliva flows out from the right side of his lips, down his chin.

Is he alluding to something?

"It was pretty mid."

"Only mid? That's fine... you are rusty... you need time. I'm a... de facto lead... I am trained in counter intelligence and... people management."

"I will manage to... I will manage you too." he says, as saliva flows out from the right side of his lips, down his chin.

Ah, no gäng, we're gonna start feeling sorry for him like this.

"That information is 'self-hold' for now."

"Ha... Hershel. You play cards... close to your chest... like we are supposed to... yes, utmost secrecy is needed... in our line of work."

"And the work is... very big at times..." he says, as saliva flows out from the right side of his lips, down his chin.

LET HIM SPEAK. LET HIS LOOSE LIPS SINK THE SHIPS OF THE FASCISTS.

"Why aren't you doing anything about the controller? (Nod at the bartender.)

"Huh... her?" He lifts his head to glance in her general direction.

The woman eyes you, warily.

"What have you found out about her?"

"Pipe down, Hershel. I'm... analysing the field. A controller... of such high importance can only be truly... watched by a man of me -- I mean my... stature."

"You did the legwork, now take notes.. as a master performs his.. craft." His face forms a sour grimace.

There's no craft here -- only despair.

"Have you zeroed out the carabinero?"

"That info is... self-hold... but you can imagine Hershel.... what happens to those who talk."

EXECUTION BY FIRING SQUAD IN A DILAPIDATED SHED BEHIND THE MUSIC FESTIVAL GROUNDS.

"Ignatz, I don't think you really know what you're doing."

"Hershel... this is why you are a sub-lead -- you have a lack of the imagination, and... of... the respect."

"But don't worry... we'll get you up on your feet... soon."

The cat licks its whiskers.

"That's enough about the controller."

"Perhaps a toast... to the craft of secrets and... friends?"

"Ignatz, maybe you should stop drinking for now."

"But what can I do if I like the taste... madam?"

His eyes bulge out of his skull.

"Alright, let's drink to stagecraft."

"Sorry, no, Ignatz."

"What a shame... are you not proud of what you are, Hershel? A big spy... at the big spies' table..."

"Why do you keep... leaving.... do you have a bag or something... why won't you... share?"

"Are you terrorizing that poor woman again?"

"Once again, I find myself beset on all sides by baseless accusations... from the people I love. What is it now?"

The woman eyes you, warily.

"I don't think that woman is a spy."

"She is a highly trained enemy operant... Hershel... you have not seen, what I have seen, fate, yes, fate... has spared your eyes..."

You are very lucky that the maestro has your back.

"Are there are any other ladies you keep pictures of?"

"Hershel, everything is always... above board and by the book. You know the job and... how it may get..." He leans forward on the chair.

"I only take pictures for... curious reasons... whatever they might be -- or the job, of course, do not forget the job." His eyes roll up, exposing only the whites.

He can't hold on for much longer.

"I spoke to her about you."

"Hershel, with full respect... are you trying to get us killed..? Are you unable to stop... hurting people... in your past and present... perhaps even, the future?"

Hurt. Everywhere.

"I admitted to her that I took a picture."

"And gave up our assignment? Hershel... you're really... really fucking up. Don't make me regret... recruiting you..." his eyes drift from left to right.

The cat looks away.

"Ignatz, I don't think you really know what you're doing."

"Hershel... this is why you are a sub-lead -- you have a lack of the imagination, and... of... the respect."

"But don't worry... we'll get you up on your feet... soon."

The cat turns away.

"INTERVAL and Hershel... sounds good... but please, call me Ignatz..."

"How did you like... to work together after all this...?" He has a hard time keeping his eyes open.

"I knew that... you look up to me, with the name IDOL, like I... look up to you."

"You can still call me... Ignatz... no need for IDEALIST... though it is a wonderful cryptonym..."

"Hershel... is this not wonderful? Old friends... together in celebration... I am saddened for the lack of a cryptonym but... life goes on."

"Salud." (Drink.)

Drink.

"Actually, no, Ignatz." (Leave.)

"Fine... you're lucky... it is just schnapps... not champagne. I am glad..."

"You're... you're back, Hershel."

He sways in place on his seat, still drunk.

Only his left eye looks at you. The other one seems to have lost focus and is well off-target.

Keeping watch. The warden of the streets.

"I reconsidered. Let's drink."

"I knew you'd... come around." He smiles.

"Here's to our... successful assignment together..." He raises his glass.

"To the Final Society." (Drink.)

You both knock back a glass of schnapps. It burns his throat.

Whose cat is that?

Wait, what?

The white cat. Outside the shack, high above the city. Bloody prints in the dirt.

That hasn't happened, I've never seen that.

It's already happened, you just haven't seen it yet.

But that means...

This man will die tomorrow.

"Good thing I stole this cat, Hershel... I think you would have never spoken to me otherwise. Is it not amazing foresight... on my part?"

"I don't think you should've taken the cat Ignatz. I think something bad is going to happen."

"We've already established... this cat... only good comes from a cat like this."

"You are jealous... because you have... no cats." He smiles.

The cat looks away.

"Why did you take this cat with you, Ignatz?"

"But... who is asking? Who can say to me, where are the places... the cat should frequent? Or with whom should it be? You are no leading... expert in cats... nobody is..."

The cat glows under the ambient light of the bar. It's eyes flick up at the fan of the air conditioner.

"Or what do you say... about the cat? To prove your expertise... Hershel Wilk... expert in cats... and hurting her old friend, Ignatz..."

"This has been about the cat the whole time. I want to make it my asset."

"Oh... of course... make the cat your asset... pass over your old pal, Ignatz, again..."

He is extremely out of joint.

"The cat is boring me. It's a boring cat."

"The cat finds you... boring as well, Hershel..."

It might. It is not possible to know.

"It's beautiful."

"It is... magnificient..."

The cat knows it... but pays no heed.

Mr. Reno still wants his cat back."

"If he cared about the cat, he would never have let it go... Sometimes, Hershel, I suspect that this is why you let me go... because you didn't care..."

Uh-oh gäng... incoming pity-party!

"Aren't you worried about the cat getting alcohol on it?"

"It's fur is so thick... it will fall right off and bounce back..."

The cat looks indeed to be not phased by its environment.

"So what now?"

"Perhaps a drink... to the cat?"

It's maybe a good time to have a cigarette.

"Let's drink to all animals, big and small."

"Let's drink to the leaky EMTERR animals.

"Let's drink to the cat."

"Ignatz, I can't stay here drinking with you." (Leave.)

"That's disappointing... Hershel... do you not like the cat? Or your old pal... Ignatz?"

"We've spoken about the cat... haven't we? Magnificent animal... yes."

"Do you see this cat... Hershel? It's magnificent. I don't know why you never wanted to... speak about the cat."

The cat looks at you with feigned offense.

"I don't think you should've taken the cat Ignatz. I think something bad is going to happen."

"What do you know of the cat... Hershel... you haven't even wanted to... pay attention to it... how do you think... it might make the cat... feel?" His lips contort.

The cat doesn't seem to care.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"It will come with me, Hershel..., to my... wherever. I know it will be okay, because this cat... this cat will be there."

Things can never be wrong with this cat.

"Is this Mr. Reno's cat?"

"No. If he cared about the cat... he would not have let it go. Sometimes... Hershel, I suspect... that historically you may have had... a hard time caring as well..." his eyes mist over.

Uh-oh gäng... incoming pity-party!

"Whose cat is this?"

"The cat is its own animal... free from the burden of society and... property rights... it does not need... anything... you would not know, you have no cat."

"I have a cat... as you can see, for now... so it's technically... mine." He swivels in his chair, just a bit.

"Are you not worried about the cat getting alcohol on it?"

"It's fur is so thick... it will fall right off... and bounce back... look..." he looks at the cat.

The cat looks indeed to be not phased by its environment.

"It seems like a fancier version of a regular cat."

"That's a very 'spectrum' thing... thing to say... Hershel... the cat is majestic... you should try to take after it..."

"It could do wonders... for your career... and such."

This man is on the brink of complete defeat.

"I never thought I'd get to meet such a cat in real life."

The cat's lazy gaze settles on you for a moment, then turns downward. How it came to meet you is a question of no concern.

"People like you and me... we're not supposed to get to meet a cat like this..."

"That's enough about the cat." (Proceed.)

In the photo shop, I saw it.

It was the same white cat that sits by him now.

Just drink your schnapps.

That cat over there.

Wait, what?

The white cat. Outside the shack, high above the city. Bloody prints in the dirt.

I've never been above the city.

It's already happened, you just haven't seen it yet.

The cat?

It's the same white cat that sits by him now.

Just drink your schnapps.

"To the Opera." (Drink.)

"Salud." (Drink.)

Drink.

"Actually no, Ignatz." (Leave.)

"You return.. just to tell me off again... how cruel..."

Tired eyes look at you from underneath the brim of a hat.

"Well, well, well... if it isn't my most dependable asset, straight from Ignatz's talent factory." His speech is slurred.

Alcohol on his breath.

He must have been going at it for a while.

"Hello."

"Fancy seeing you here, in our old hang-out. Did you start to miss me, Hershel? Or have you come to... hurt me again?" he sighs.

"And what a coincidence that other members of our crew are here... as well. Truly... interesting."

The cat doesn't seem to share this interest.

"Drunk on duty. Pretty sloppy, Ignatz."

"Please, Hershel. For once lay off with the verbal abuse. I am a man... but I am only a man."

"Are you doing okay there?"

"I'm just having a taste... don't leave me alone when I've had champagne and so forth... luckily, I'm not having champagne... nor am I alone."

"We are here, living... are we not?" He gestures with his hand toward something invisible.