In the 1970s, a young trans woman, Patrick "Kitten" Braden, comes of age by leaving her Irish town for London, in part to look for her mother and in part because her gender identity is beyond the town's understanding.

Patrick "Kitten" Braden: If I wasn't a transvestite terrorist, would you marry me?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Well, fuck me pink with a hairy arse!
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Not many people can take the tale of Patrick Braden, aka St. Kitten, who strutted the catwalks, face lit by a halo of flashbulbs as "oh!" she shrieks, "I told you, from my best side darlings."
Mr. Silky String: And just who is this "Phantom Lady"?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Well, it's my mother really, I call her that... to pretend it's a story... that's happening to someone else, you see.
Mr. Silky String: Why do you pretend that?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Beacause otherwise I might cry and never stop.
Mr. Silky String: If you cried, I'd make you stop.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Oh, You would?... Oh how kind kind sir.
Mr. Silky String: Yes. I'd definitely make you stop.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: And the other thing about the Phantom Lady was, Bert, she realized, in the city that never sleeps...
Bertie: What did she realize, Kitten?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: That all the songs she'd listened to, all the love songs, that they were only songs.
Bertie: What's wrong with that?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Nothing, if you don't believe in them. But she did, you see. She believed in enchanted evenings, and she believed that a small cloud passed overhead and cried down on a flower bed, and she even believed there was breakfast to be had...
Bertie: Where?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: On Pluto. The mysterious, icy wastes of Pluto.
Robin 1: She doesn't look anything like Mitzi Gaynor!
Robin 2: What do you know about Mitzi Gaynor?
Robin 1: Nothing. But as Oscar Wilde said, "I love to talk about nothing. It's the only thing I know anything about."
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: The fantastic tale of Eily Bergen.
Bertie: I can't wait to hear the ending.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: But you haven't even heard the start.
Bertie: I can't wait to hear that either.
Bertie: You know, Kitten, I made a decision a long time ago.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: What decision was that?
Bertie: That I wasn't destined for sentimental side of things. But if I ever did let myself fall for someone, I think it would be a girl like you.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Bertie, please, I have to stop you. There's something you should know.
Bertie: Or maybe what I should say is, it would be a girl not a million miles away from where I'm standing. What's the matter, Princess?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Well, you see, the thing is, Bertie, I'm not a girl.
Bertie: Oh, I knew that, Princess.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: You did?
Bertie: Of course. What I said was, it would be a girl like you.
Hooker (Janet Moran): Oi. You doing business, do it somewhere else, love. This pavement's got my name on it.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: And what, pray, is your name? Concrete?
Hooker (Janet Moran): My name is scratch your eyes out, and bite your bleed'n nose off. Which is what I'll do if you don't get off my patch.
Mr. Silky String: She giving you trouble, sir?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Oh, no trouble at all. We were just exchanging names.
2nd Biker: What do you see, bro?
Laurence: Sausages!
2nd Biker: No stars?
Laurence: Stars... and sausages!
Billy Hatchett: [finding that Patrick has taken all of the guns] Fuck. Don't you know what this means? Do-do you know what these guys are like, Paddy?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Don't let this come between us, Billy.
Billy Hatchett: Shut up! Jesus, what the fuck am I gonna do? Fucking Jesus!
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Tell them I was spring cleaning, darling.
Billy Hatchett: Where are they, Paddy? Tell me, where are they?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Now, what is this you mean, my darling?
Billy Hatchett: The guns, you little fucking whore! Where are they? The guns! It's all too fucking serious! Don't go fucking me around.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Oh, all of a sudden, everybody's getting serious! Serious, serious, serious.
Billy Hatchett: I'm not fucking joking, Patrick! Where are they?
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: I told you to call me Kitten.
Billy Hatchett: Don't fucking know me. You don't know where I've gone. And if they come, if they fucking come, you tell them nothing. I mean nothing.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Whatever you say, darling.
Billy Hatchett: You're way out of your league, Patrick. You don't know what you're dealing with. Don't fucking know.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Oh, I do. I know, all right. I knew you were only joking about the roses... and the sweets, too, probably. But it was nice while it lasted.
[Hatchett drives off]
Ma Braden: I'll walk you up and down the streets before the whole town in disgrace!
Young Patrick Braden: Promise?
Bertie: Fantastic!
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Dear Sir Unseen, I know my music and I am willing to bet you ten times whatever pathetic price you paid to get in this place that the dog's tail is 'waggely.' Now I want to hear you bark.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: I knew you were only joking about the roses. And the sweeties. But it was nice while it lasted.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Patricia Kitten, aka Deep Throat, had penetrated the deepest recesses of the Republican sphincter... with her secret anti-terrorist spray, named after Gabrielle Coco Chanel's lucky number.
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: But Micky is devious and no matter how much you tell him, he simply won't stay down!
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Oh serious, serious, serious!
Patrick "Kitten" Braden: Oh... I do believe I have a small elfin dwelling on Wimbledon Common.

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