Felidae Page #4

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Because I gradually can't

be bothered any more!

I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I long for cod!

"I'm hungry, I'm tired, I long for cod!" My God!

The old Joker is the only one who knows

anything about the Prophet Claudandus.

Ironically, the guy who operates

this electroshock cult.

What did you say back then?

It was a pastime, a thrill?

Something like that.

Sometimes it seems to me as if this

circus of a sect served a specific purpose.

As if it were a preparation for

something really special, unimaginable!

Such as cod?

I have found you at last!

Of course, dear Francis.

I am the Prophet,

I am the man and the beast,

and I am Felidae!

Come with us, Francis.

Everything that ever was and will be

no longer has any meaning, Francis.

Come with us.

- Come with us!

You'll find something better

than death everywhere!

Come with us on the long, wonderful journey.

And what will we find?

- Everything we have lost, Francis.

Who are you?

Which race do you belong to?

Race! What an antiquated

and insulting term.

I'm not associated with any race.

Your mistress is the way she is.

You mean your race is new?

- Not new, but old.

Or better said, old and new - and different!

Figure it out for yourself, Francis.

How do you know my name?

A little bird twittered it to me.

And what's your name?

My name wouldn't mean much to you.

But don't worry about it.

Everything will clarify itself one day...

and all will end well.

Trust me...

Do I at least know the girl?

I hope you know her.

Because she could bring us a little

closer to the resolution of the case.

Case?

Resolution?

Don't tell me that you're still interested.

Judging by the unbearable stench,

did you all day... reduplicate?

My God!

Yes, yes, you're right, old friend.

To work. Firstly now,

where is Joker currently at?

He's probably sitting at home and

preparing for his next Bible class.

Where's his home?

- Quite away from the district.

His can opener has a shop for

porcelain and precious glass.

Okay, I'm going to pay a

visit to Pascal in a moment.

While I do that, you march over to Joker

and tell him that me and Pascal wish to

speak to him about the murders.

Do you really think the old Joker is the killer?

Don't forget what we learned from Jesaja.

Joker is deep - and I mean

very deep - within this.

The question is whether I can unmask him.

Before I forget, I have made the

acquaintance of a lady this morning

whose race is completely alien to me.

Her fur is sand coloured,

her eyes are a glowing yellow -

I know that bunch.

- Are they so numerous?

Sh*t, yeah! Seems to be a breed

that's particularly high on the stands.

This whole area is full of

those inflated pompouses.

But with this breed, the can openers

are pissing their own pants.

What do you mean?

- They aren't like us!

Well, somehow I have the impression

that with them during the whole

damned breeding process,

domestication has fallen by the wayside.

These new ones, they're wilder,

more repellent, even more dangerous.

Like predators?

- Yeah.

My compliments.

I've lived in this district for years Francis

and haven't even registered a fraction

of the horrific things you've

found out so quickly.

Great work.

Have you saved brothers

and sisters who suddenly,

for whatever reason,

left the district?

Of course.

- Can we check with this list how many have

disappeared for not apparent reason,

and when exactly?

Why did the murderer no longer entrust

probably his last seven victims to Jesaja,

the good Guardian of the Dead?

- That's an important point, Francis.

Because it's an indication that our

friend is beginning to make mistakes.

I can't imagine that such a prodigy of horror

would be able to make even a single mistake.

Perhaps he wants to call

our attention to something.

That's good!

- No, this isn't good at all.

For we have no idea what he

wants to draw our attention to.

He wants to draw our attention

to himself and his work -

Alas, the average intelligence of the area's

residents is so shamefully low that no-one

could come to comprehend his subtle signs.

- Well then, maybe he wants to draw

the attention of only a very

specific brother to his life's work.

That I call good!

- Why?

Because for the first time you

speak of a life's work, Francis.

Don't you get it? He deliberately

sets out to be seen through!

The guy's very strange.

He's like a puzzle - no.

He is the puzzle and is waiting

only for the one who solves it.

Joker's either been in a hurry

or he's had it with the stomach.

Joker. For me, a prime suspect.

Could be right.

He witnessed the drama in Preterius's

laboratory and saw his chance

to buid a martyr religion

around Claudandus's suffering.

That's possible.

Tell me more about the

lady you met earlier today.

Well, she wasn't like the others.

- Professor Preterius's killer race?

Why not?

- Unlikely. You're forgetting the evolution.

A new breed can also arise by chance.

- Really?

You think that my wild lady and her fellow

kind are the product of natural selection?

You're right as always, Pascal.

- Don't be so modest, Francis.

You are the true smartass.

- Could I possibly contribute something too?

Where's Joker?

- Not there. Disappeared.

What does "disappeared" mean?

"Disappeared" means disappeared.

Do you want a snack first

before you continue?

My owner Ziebold has prepared fresh liver.

Fresh liver!

- Get to the point, Blaubart!

A horror house, where Joker lives!

I combed through it from the bottom

to the top, but found nothing.

Joker's been murdered -

- No, vanished.

He knew you were close to

catching him and took off.

No, no! I refuse to accept

such a cheap solution.

Calm down, calm down.

First thing tomorrow we'll draw up a list

of possible survivors from the

laboratory of Professor Preterius.

You better be careful, smartass.

How do you mean?

The neck-biter will want to take

wicked revenge against the one

who screwed up his tour. Sh*t, yeah!

Yeah. Pascal is in danger too.

He also knows too much.

According to what you've found out,

the killer only attacks those

who want to educate themselves sexually.

But good old Pascal is neutered.

And moreover - well, he won't

last much longer anyway.

Why not?

- He has cancer. Colon cancer, I think.

The doctor's given him only

slightly longer than half a year.

Dear friends! We thank you that so many

of you have accepted our invitation.

I hope we get offered something, gramps!

Otherwise, someone'll have to pay vigorously

for my having missed my

favourite film on television!

Kong, you idiotic rhinoceros!

If you had only a shred of decency,

you would at least pretend that

you're mourning for your Solitaire!

I'll catch that neck-biter

sooner or later anyway.

You won't get anyone at all, you fool!

Do you think this guy will someday knock

on your door and beg your forgiveness?

Surely a guy can still crack a joke -

- Kong!

The problem is that our homicidal

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