(violin playing somber melody)
CHUCK: There are some things in life
that transcend time
and national boundaries.
Music, love,
the bond between parent and child.
Things like these have no language.
They exist in the heart,
in the memory, and nothing can erase them.
(speaking Russian)
CHUCK: Sometimes, though,
it takes a kind of miracle to bring things back to light.
(pounding at door) MAN: Yuri Rosanova!
(men shouting in Russian)
WOMAN (over radio): Good morning.
It's 6:30 in the city of broad shoulders,
and here's the new...
(cat meows) (paper thuds against door)
(cat meows)
Yeah, morning to you, too.
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What the...?
(Russian folk music playing)
(theme music playing)
CHUCK: What if you knew, beyond a doubt,
what was going to happen tomorrow?
What would you do?
There's no easy answer
for a guy who gets tomorrow's news today.
♪
CHUCK: All right, come on,
now just consider it before you toss it in the trash.
MARISSA: Okay. It's a bad idea.
CHUCK: It is not a bad idea.
We are dying on Thursday nights.
We need a new angle. Angle, yes.
Gimmick, no.
Look, it is not a gimmick.
Gimmicks are cheap.
I am not cheap. Okay.
What about last week?
Free meals for gay divorcees?
Come on! That was a brilliant idea!
That was innovative! And this is a gimmick.
Uh-uh-uh... let's ask a true connoisseur.
A man with vision. A man with taste.
Okay, what do you think?
Thursday nights, karaoke.
Thursday night karaoke?
I think that's a terrible idea.
Thank you. CHUCK: What the hell does he know?
This guy puts ketchup on his filet. Yeah.
Look at this, would you? What is it?
Well, I don't know. It's-it's-it's different.
It's... what?
It's Russian. It's written in Russian.
You know Russian?
Yeah. I gavareet a bit of Rooskee.
You gotta be kidding me? No.
Why should I be kidding you?
What do you think Fishman is? Irish?
Comes from Fishniak.
My grandparents are from Moscow.
Russian's practically my second language.
(stutters)
What does that say?
"Bootineet
puchees neokee..."
(grunts) In English.
Okay. Don't rush me.
It's written in Cyrillic.
Maybe you ought to try singing it.
Something about...
Spam.
Stop while you're behind, Chuck.
Okay, so I'm a little rusty!
What do you think I am? Dostoyevsky?
I gotta get this translated now.
What's the hurry?
I don't know if there is a hurry, but I do know that
that article's not in there for any accident.
Uh-oh.
What?
This wasn't here before.
What? What is it?
GARY: "A 32-year-old mother-to-be died yesterday morning
"after being struck by a taxi cab in downtown Chicago.
"The cab driver,
"involved in an argument with his passenger,
reportedly never saw the victim."
(car horn honking)
When is it gonna happen?
9:00.
Wait a minute.
"Meeer pajalsta volkie..."
Hey, Gar, remember... think karaoke.
Oh, finally something simple.
(panting)
(violin playing classical melody)
(indistinct chattering)
You gotta be kidding me.
(music continues)
Driver, can you turn it down?
Driver!
What?!
It's too loud.
What's too loud?
The music.
It's supposed to be loud.
It's Shostakovich.
Look out!
(tires screeching)
Slow down!
What was that?!
Concerto in A Minor.
What, are you nuts?!
You could get hurt running out like that!
Oh, yeah, yeah, you tell me about it.
I had to stop you. You were about to hit someone...
Oh, yeah?
Oh, well, next time try yelling "Taxi"
from the curb, like everybody else.
Driver, what are you doing?
Smelling roses.
No damage. Oh, boy, are you a lucky guy.
I'm lucky?!
Look, let me tell you something, pal...
I practically just saved your life!
Oh, yeah? Well, how do you figure that?
How do I figure that? I'll tell you how I figure that.
I figure that because...
because I'm a good figurer, that's how.
Well, let me give you a bit of advice
from someone who knows absolutely nothing...
always watch out for your own life.
Nobody else will.
Back in Russia, we got a saying...
That's it. I'm walking.
You can forget about your fare.
Good.
Dos Vadanya. Dos Vadanya...
You say you're from Russia?
Who wants to know?
I want to know.
Listen, you read that to me?
Huh.
Ignore it. It's nothing.
Pay no attention. Yeah, well,
just tell me what it says, would you?
It says there was a fire at the consulate.
At the consulate.
Which consulate? Russian.
The Russian consulate.
But this is not true.
I drove by there this morning... no fire.
Well...
Take me there. Why?
Because I want to go there.
Sorry.
I can't drive today.
What do you mean, you can't drive today?
It's your job! (blows raspberry)
All right.
Hey, that's my cab! Uh...
You can't do this! (engine turns)
You crazy American!
(tires squeal)
(chamber music playing)
(indistinct murmuring)
Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?
May I have your attention, please?
If you would all take your places,
we would like to begin.
I know you're all anxious to meet our guests.
Once we've completed the introductions,
there will be plenty of time
for questions from the press.
Please.
Thank you for joining us.
Good to see you again.
(murmuring)
Thank you very much.
Ladies and gentlemen,
it is my great pleasure as Consul General
to welcome today two most distinguished visitors
from our homeland.
(applause) The distinguished Russian ambassador...
Welcome, sir.
And on her first international concert tour,
our own national treasure,
Paulina Rosanova.
(murmuring and applause)
Thank you.
It is my great pleasure
to finally be in the country I've heard so much about.
I look forward to playing for all of you.
I hope I live up to my reputation.
(sighs)
Nice driving!
You have maybe Russian blood?!
Here.
Come on. I might need your help.
Me? No, sorry.
I can't. Not today.
Personal reasons.
Look, get on the radio.
You get the fire department over here now.
Why? I told you it was nonsense.
Besides, it happened yesterday.
Yeah, yeah.
Mister, wait.
Take care of the girl.
What?
The one with the violin.
The...
Go! Go, go!
Da, da.
(reporters clamoring)
WOMAN: Miss Rosanova, is it true the violin you'll be playing
on this tour is the one your father
gave you when you were a child?
Yes.
I only wish he could have been here today
to see how far it has brought me.
(clamoring continues)
GARY: Uh, excuse me.
Uh, excuse me, uh...
There, uh... Hi. How do you do?
There... there's gonna be a fire here.
There's supposed to...
there's-there's,
uh... there's-there's gonna be a fire here, and I,
uh...
(explosion) Well... There!
(reporters gasp)
(fire alarm ringing) My violin!
Sir, come with me.
GARY: What, are you crazy?!
Get away from there! PAULINA: I can't! My...
My violin! I got it!
Are you all right?
I think so.
My violin...
You saved my life.
No, I-I don't think I saved your life.
I just, uh... Well, how did you know?
Well, I-I didn't know.
I, I didn't...
I... uh...
Who are you?
Uh... Gary Hobson.
I'm Gary Hobson.
How do you do?
Ow!
Don't be such a baby.
Keep still and it won't hurt.
You sure you know what you're doing?
Why shouldn't I?
Well, I...
I'm a musician, Mr. Hobson,
not a porcelain doll.
How is he?
Oh, it's a little burned around the edges,
but I think I'll live.
Thank you.
You're lucky. Real lucky.
Security thinks it was
an incendiary device.
They set the fire?
Perhaps as a diversion for something else.
Diversion by who?
(sighs)
In our country we call them cherke.
Here you say "mafia."
The Russian variety.
They control many things in the old Soviet Union
and wish to control more now.
We need to be careful with you and the ambassador.
Once again, my thanks.
Uh...
Ah...
Do you feel anything?
Oh, yeah.
I mean, it's, uh, feels fine.
Thank you.
Well, it's the least I could do.
You saved something very precious to me.
I don't think I could have done the tour without my violin.
Why not?
It was a gift from my father.
Many, many years ago.
Everything I am I owe to him.
When he died, I vowed I would
dedicate my life and music to him.
It's crazy, huh?
No, I don't... I don't think it's crazy.
It's just, uh...
Well, I'd better be going.
Wait, but you... you didn't answer my question.
How did you know?
How did I know?
(chuckles)
I wish I knew.
Perhaps another time.
Yeah.
So...
Paulina Rosanova, huh?
The concert violinist.
I believe Newsweek called her the "Mournful Angel of Moscow."
Yes, they did that.
The one with the cheekbones.
This is perfect.
This what?
Well, you saved her violin, right?
So, now she owes you.
MARISSA: You know, I hate to ask, but, uh, owes
what?
She plays here Thursday nights.
MARISSA: Oh! You gotta be
out of your mind! No, imagine:
Black tie, fine crystal, we dim the lights.
She comes out wearing something very sexy.
She starts with the standards:
Shostakovich, Rastapovich, all of the "iches."
And then, she segues into, you know, the old stuff
like, uh, hillbilly music, bluegrass!
MARISSA: She's a concert violinist, Chuck.
Okay, okay, forget the bluegrass.
What do you think, Gare?
What do I think? Yeah.
Well, I think, uh, I think I agree with her.
(chuckling)
(phone ringing)
You know what?
You guys have no imagination.
(phone continues ringing)
CHUCK: Oh, don't worry, I'll get it.
You got something to say?
You got a thing for her, don't you?
What makes you say that?
Vibes.
Vibes?
Mm-hmm.
Well, after all, she is the
"Mournful Angel of Moscow," isn't she?
I got things to do.
You still don't want to talk about her, do you?
No, I don't want to talk about her. You know why?
'Cause there's nothing to talk about.
These were addressed to you, Matilda.
I told you not to call me that.
GARY: "How about dinner?"
(sniffing): Mmm! Roses.
How Russian.
Need a lift, Mister?
What do you want?
You owe me six bucks.
For the cab fare this morning.
Lucky for you, I'm a generous man.
Hey...
How long you been waiting out here?
No time at all.
Purely coincidence.
Nice clothes. Men's Wearhouse?
Look, if it's all right with you, I'm late for a dinner.
With who? That's none of your business, with who.
All right, forget the six bucks.
We'll start fresh.
From zero, huh?
Well, thank you very much, but I'll walk.
So, how did things go today at the consulate?
Fine, thank you.
She's okay? She's not hurt?
No, she...
Why are you so interested in Paulina?
Have you ever heard her play?
No.
Then what's the use explaining?
She lets you call her Paulina?
Well, yeah, she let me call...
What do you care what she let me call her?!
Whoops, the radio's beeping.
Gotta go.
Now, wait a second, hey!
Hey! Hey!
Nice talking to you!
(laughing)
To America, land of tall buildings.
And to baseball.
And traffic.
And... Strangers
who rescue violinists from fiery deaths.
That, too.
(romantic jazz playing)
(giggles)
What?
You know, when one is famous,
especially in my country,
it's hard to find people who will just be themselves.
The way you rushed in today I thought,
"This man is special."
His own person.
Yet there is something else.
What might that be?
I was hoping you would tell me.
How did you know?
About the fire?
Perhaps.
It's, uh, some kind of gift you have, isn't it?
Well, it's... that's, uh, that's, uh...
(chuckles)
That's hard to explain, actually. Uh...
I understand.
You do?
Sometimes, when I'm playing that violin...
the one that my father gave me...
the strangest thing happens.
I can be on stage in front of a thousand people,
and just for a moment,
it's as if I'm all alone,
and he is standing right beside me.
Not a ghost, but real.
Right nearby.
Can you explain that?
No. No.
You see? We are connected.
(Paulina laughing)
Thank you. I had a lovely time.
I hope you did, too.
You didn't give me a chance to say it.
Perhaps I didn't dare.
Perhaps it's a good thing that you didn't dare.
But all the same, I did have a good time and thank you.
Good.
I play tomorrow at the consulate.
Prokofiev.
I hope you can come.
But no fire this time, huh?
No fire.
(chuckles)
Oh...
Let me get that.
This is you?
Yes. It's me
on my tenth birthday.
And this is...?
My father.
Was my father.
Oh, I'm sorry.
No, it's okay.
Take care of the hand.
I'll see you tomorrow.
Okay.
MAN (over dispatch): Got a customer at...
Yes, mon?
Where you want to go?
Wherever these things go at night...
take me there.
No problem.
(garbled radio transmission)
(garbled radio transmissions)
Excuse me.
(Russian accent): Where to?
No, no, I don't need a cab.
I'm looking for someone.
He's, uh, he's Russian.
So is everyone else here. Name?
Yuri, and, uh, I didn't get his last name.
Yuri? Yeah.
Is he here?
I'm afraid not.
Perhaps I can help you.
Victor Choledenko.
Ahh!
You're, uh, you're in charge?
I am in charge, yes.
Yeah, well, is he here?
It's pretty important I talk to him.
May I ask, uh, what about?
No, it's kind of personal, actually.
Of course. I understand.
But there is a problem.
He no longer works here.
I just saw him today.
You see how things happen
so near and yet so far?
Yuri quit this evening.
Left town, no address.
Can you imagine?
Huh. Just got up and left town, huh?
Of course, if you would wish to leave a message,
perhaps he will contact me, and then I could pass it along,
but only if you like.
Yeah, yeah.
Well, why don't you tell, uh, Yuri that I came by
to give him a ticket to a concert that I think he might
want to go to. And your name?
My name is Gary Hobson.
He'll remember me.
He took me to the consulate today.
Well, why don't you leave the ticket with me?
Why would I want to do that?
He left town.
May I call you a cab?
No.
(door opens and closes)
You took him to the consulate?
What else haven't you told me?
Perhaps I should be asking you this.
The fire at the consulate...
people could have been killed.
Was that you?
My friend, I'm surprised.
I thought we agreed
we would never speak of these things.
In any event, no harm was done.
Everything is fine.
Just be sure and stay away from this man.
He could cause you great trouble.
And that would grieve me, truly.
(door opens)
(door closes)
(light switch clicks) (gasps)
GARY: I got a feeling you're looking for this, Yuri.
I figured you'd get the message.
Do I get it or not... the ticket?
Oh, yes, yes, after you tell me one thing.
Which is?
You're her father, aren't you?
Yes.
Except for one thing.
And what's that?
Her father is dead.
YURI: Why do you want to hear this?
Last night I listened
to a woman tell me about her father,
who she made out to be one of the most important men in the world.
The only thing is, she thinks that her father's
been dead for 15 years, but he isn't.
Now, you tell me, Yuri, or I'm gonna call the cops.
Yuri Rosanova.
A great man.
A musical genius.
A moral giant.
That's what she said, isn't it?
Pretty close.
I want you to look all around this room, Mr. Hobson.
Do you see such a man standing here?
The answer is no.
He doesn't exist.
Well, she's walking around on this planet,
so he must have, once.
Ah... who can remember?
Such a long time ago.
Things were different then.
You were a musician.
A journeyman, a hack.
I was lucky to work once or twice in a year.
But Paulina, oh...
From the time she was six...
(violin playing somber melody) ...she had the gift.
Oh, she could play like an angel.
The first time I heard,
I knew this was a miracle.
She needed schooling.
She needed an instrument.
These things cost money, so I took a job with a friend.
I asked no questions.
After all, what could possibly go wrong?
He had connections.
(indistinct shouting)
(two gunshots)
But something did go wrong.
That night I became an enemy of the party, a criminal.
So long as I lived, my daughter would suffer.
Her gift would be lost.
I had no time, so I did what I thought was best.
If I died, her life might be spared,
so that night I ceased to exist.
So now you know.
Any questions?
Yeah, about a hundred of 'em,
but let me start with this one.
Look, the Soviet Union is broken up.
Have you thought about going back?
Uh, maybe if...
Maybe, maybe not.
What about my daughter?
What would she think when her father the martyr shows up
on her doorstep after 15 years in the grave?
Well, I don't know.
I would imagine she'd be thrilled.
Are you sure?
Are you really sure?
I don't understand.
Yes, I know.
You never saw me.
Now, wait a second.
Well, just hang on a second here, would you?
Let me get this straight.
Now, you've got a daughter on the other side of the city
who thinks you've been dead for 15 years,
and you're not even going to let her know you exist?
She wouldn't believe me if I did.
Wait a minute, would you?
Just, just wait a minute now.
Yuri, take the ticket and go see your daughter play.
Thank you.
♪
(cat meows) (paper thuds against door)
DEEJAY: ...rise and shine. It's morning in Chicago,
and there's plenty happening out there
for you to do today. Not already.
You know, driving into work this morning, the freeways...
All right.
...the sun was breaking...
(cat meows)
(Russian folk music plays)
Not again.
Okay, I got it this time.
"Rabbit Marinates in Melatonin."
What?
That's wrong, that's wrong.
"Rabbit Beats Little Boy."
Oh, gosh, this is hopeless, Chuck.
All right, I'm sorry, okay?
I haven't spoke Russian since I was seven,
since my Grandma Olga died, okay? Look...
I can read two of the words... "Lincoln Park."
Let's go. Me?
Come on, I might need a translator.
(chuckles)
Auf Wiedersehen.
See you.
God, it's such a beautiful day.
I wish we didn't have to spend it rescuing people.
Come on, get out.
And do what?
Oh, do what? Just look around.
(car door closes)
Yeah, excuse me, can you take me to the, uh...?
Sorry, off duty.
But I got to get to... You want to ride in the trunk?
Out!
Paulina.
Paulina!
So what's this all about?
CHUCK: I think I know
what it is.
Beer-ski.
(tires screeching)
Are you all right?
Yes, I think so.
I thought you were going to be... I-I had to do something.
You're not hurt, are you?
GARY: Paulina!
Gary, what are you doing here?
Are you following me? No, I'm not following you.
I...
(in Russian accent): Paulina, hello.
I am Chuck Fishniak.
I am a manager of McGinty's Restaurant.
Uh, maybe you've heard of it.
But who is this?
Him? I know not.
Do I know you?
Yuri.
Yuri Rosanova.
It's your father.
Is this some kind of a joke?
Let me explain. No, let me explain.
My father
was a musician, not a cab driver.
He died
in Russia 15 years ago.
GARY: Look,
I-I know that's what you believe, but the...
Believe?!
I know it to be so.
She's right.
I'm sorry I lied to you.
I may bear a resemblance of Rosanova,
but the fact is I never even met the man.
I've never even been to Moscow.
I just thought...
Well, anyway, I am ashamed of myself.
I misled you, both of you.
I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.
(kegs clanking)
Never... never.
Paulina, w-wait.
She's not going to talk to you.
Well, I've got to talk to her.
Well, then I'd start with flowers.
Here it is.
Morris Hotel.
You believe this guy's story?
It sounds like something out of a Pushkin novel.
I saw the picture.
A picture, an old one.
I mean, don't you think she'd know if he
were her father? Well, maybe she does.
(man speaking Russian on phone) Uh, hello.
Uh, Paulina Rosanova, please.
One moment.
PAULINA: Hello?
Hello, Paulina.
(phone clicks, dial tone)
Paulina?
Hello?
It's good to see you still got the touch, kid.
Listen, there's got to be a reason for these headlines here.
Yeah,
it's trying to tell you something.
L-Like what?
Stay away from musicians.
Remember Doctor Zhivago.
Yeah...
What?
(classical music playing)
VICTOR: This is not like you, my friend.
Victor.
(chuckles)
Something wrong?
Wrong? W-What could be wrong, eh?
Everything is wonderful.
This is America.
And I am Yuri Rosanova,
taxicab driver, invisible man.
I see.
I saw her today.
I even spoke to her.
And?
You were right.
It was a mistake.
I never should have tried.
I'm sorry.
Hmm, life happens, huh, what can you do?
It's like you always say...
know where you stand, huh? (chuckles)
Trust your friends, no one else.
And the concert today... what will you do?
I assume you won't be going.
No, no...
Very wise.
It would only be painful.
Well, if you like, you could give the ticket to me.
The concert ticket.
(laughing): Oh, of course.
But who would you give it to?
No one... I'm going by myself.
You?
But you hate music.
Why on Earth would you want to...
But my daughter will be there.
As will the ambassador.
May I have it, please?
This is me.
Your old friend.
Would I let something happen to one of yours?
Trust me.
It's just business.
No one will get hurt.
That's what you said 15 years ago.
And now I am here.
No, Victor.
Not this time.
I can make you, you know.
With what, a gun?
A word to the authorities
about your involvement in certain activities.
It would break Paulina's heart.
Da?
(music ends, record crackles)
(meowing)
Look, just let me get a bite to eat, will you?
(purring)
(meowing)
(Russian folk music plays)
What's this?
Something big is happening, isn't it?
GARY: Something big is happening.
I got a front-page headline in Russian.
Well, we know it has to do with one of two people.
Yeah, well, the question is, which one and why?
All right, I'll tell you what.
Just this once, I'm going to do this for you
'cause I think you're cute.
Yeah, thanks a lot, but I don't need to know
about pigs with melanoma or Spam.
I need to know what this headline says.
YURI: Maybe I can help you.
Yuri?
They are going to kill him.
MARISSA: Who?
The Russian ambassador, today at the consulate.
Does he get one of these, too?
No... what are you talking about?
I need your help.
I've done too much running away in my life.
Too much being nobody to be somebody.
Too busy thinking of how I failed
instead of how I might succeed.
Because of that, I lost my daughter.
She is in danger.
I could not bear to lose her again.
Will you help me?
How are you going to do that?
It's a consulate... you can't just walk in.
Oh, hold it. Who are you?
Uh, I'm with the band.
A substitute.
What kind of substitute?
Uh, the, uh, bass guitar
and, uh, tenor sax.
Where's your ticket?
Well, uh... the reason I'm substituting
is the guy who usually plays got very sick
and he puked all inside the case,
and that's where the ticket is, too.
But if you want me to get it, I can show...
Next. Thank you.
(sighs)
No wonder the whole country collapsed.
Perfect day.
It's lovely.
The ambassador has asked
if he might sit nearby when you play.
He's entranced by your music.
Miss Rosanova?
In Moscow, if one wanted to research old records,
uh, locate reports, uh... from local deaths,
traffic accidents...
Why on Earth would you think
of such a depressing thing?
Where would one start?
Better not to.
In Moscow, what was not labeled "top secret"
was most often thrown into boxes.
Or used as fuel.
What are you searching for?
Nothing important.
It was just a thought.
GARY: Paulina.
It's okay.
Let him through.
Thank you.
Don't mention it. Listen, something's happened.
Look, I'm sure it has, but I'm really not interested.
I thought I made that quite clear.
Wait.
Then, why did you let me through?
Is it true?
Tell me it was just a hoax.
Listen, what if I can't do that?
Then my life has been a lie.
What are you talking about?
Look, you share a God-given talent.
How can that be wrong?
Because I believed in him.
And you say my father abandoned me?
My father was not such a man.
You were ten years old. How do you know?
He was brave and noble. And human.
Brave and noble, they make mistakes.
Maybe he was doing all he could.
Is everything all right?
No, it's not. Yes.
Listen, Paulina...
Look, I've said all I have to say.
Miss Rosanova? No, Paulina...
Paulina!
Pa... ow.
Hey.
Where are you guys taking me, huh?
Hey, what's wrong? Don't you speak English?
(applause)
Thank you.
On behalf of my country, I welcome each of yours.
It is through cultural exchanges like this
that we hope to forge
a greater international understanding.
I'm sorry.
These things are murder, aren't they?
I don't think so.
Yeah, that's easy for you to say.
Where the hell is this guy?
Hey, listen, you guys.
Wait, listen.
Look...
Listen, Boris.
Trouble-ski.
Headline-ski, huh?
How am I supposed to read that? It's in Russian.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Paulina Rosanova.
(applause, murmuring)
What a wonderful greeting.
Thank you.
How long I have dreamt
of this day, to play here in America.
I feel both happy and sad.
Happy to feel so free and sad for what
I have learned.
Sometimes, I guess it is easy
to fool ourselves about who we are.
Sometimes, it's easier to pretend than to just be.
Especially when we are young.
I...
...said I would play this violin today...
the one that my father gave me...
but I won't.
(murmuring)
I no longer believe.
No, you must believe.
(speaking Russian)
Papa?
Hey, he's got a gun!
(murmuring, gasping)
(grunting)
(grunting, groaning)
Perhaps, now we are even.
(chuckling)
Excuse me.
You drop this?
Huh?
Oh, th... hey.
Can you tell me what this says?
"Hero Cab Driver Saves Violinist."
Hell, uh, I could have told you that.
Paulina.
Papa.
(applause) Ahh...
(violin playing somber melody)
CHUCK: Me, I never played the violin
or the tenor sax.
Got a drum set when I was 12,
but my dad put an end to that.
I know this about music, though.
Even though playing solo is okay,
it always helps to have someone backing you up.
(second violin joins in)
As for falling in lust
with a beautiful Russian virtuosas,
well, that can be complicated.
Especially for a corn-fed American boy.
Maybe sometimes it's safer
to stick with the music you already know.
(purring)
On the other hand,
when it comes to tomorrow's newspaper, there's a new tune
every day. (cat meows, paper thuds against door)
(door opens, cat purrs)
Oh, no. (Asian music plays)
Chinese?
You got to be kidding me.
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