"If you wanna shine on the catwalk, the duds gotta hang just right, ya know, but geez, sometimes I'd really like a bowl of cream. I'd settle for half-and-half, actually."
"How did it come to this? Can't you see the wallpaper?"
Manx was a camo cat, built to blend in with his surroundings. On his days off, he could be found carousing at the hottest clubs, but in his professional life, secrecy was his game.
Then he was adopted, by force, by the Wilburmatsen family.
After repeatedly trying to get his nanotech camouflage fur to conceal him against the hideous prints on the family's wallpaper, his magical fur coat short-circuited.
Now, his former friends know him as Splotchy. He lives with it, but with a pack-a-day habit, he won't have to live with it long.
Nobody would let Pickles out of the house. It had been a long weekend of fending off unwanted advances from her housemate, Filibuster, as he struggled with his hormones. She'd been fixed; why hadn't he? If her parents loved her at all, they'd take that perverted sleazeball to the vet and whack off his johnson.
A marmalade cat discovers the only thing worse than having fur clotted with infamous oil is taking the perilous 4k mile trek home to find its favorite blankie has been enshrined as bad sixties, acid trip wallpaper.
For a while I thought you were heading toward it being a stuffed cat. I liked the reversal of promising never to gamble again becoming "craps is my game." LOL.
Thanks for playing during your rewrite weekend, Unk.
I'm famous yet anonymous, failed yet accomplished, brilliant yet semi-brilliant. I'm a homebody who jetsets around the world. I'm brash and daring yet chilled with a twist. I also write for Script Magazine.
12 comments:
CAT DREAMS
Tiger dreamed of salmon filling his bowl with their rich, red bodies. He dreamed of a self-watering dish that dispensed cream instead of water.
Tiger dreamed of a name that better suited his personality, like King or Prince: or even just his markings, like Batman or The Masked Avenger.
Tiger dreamed of all these things. Then he coughed up a hairball and licked his butt in front of company.
"Hello, my name is Princess and I'm an anorexic."
"Hello, Princess."
"If you wanna shine on the catwalk, the duds gotta hang just right, ya know, but geez, sometimes I'd really like a bowl of cream. I'd settle for half-and-half, actually."
"How did it come to this? Can't you see the wallpaper?"
Manx was a camo cat, built to blend in with his surroundings. On his days off, he could be found carousing at the hottest clubs, but in his professional life, secrecy was his game.
Then he was adopted, by force, by the Wilburmatsen family.
After repeatedly trying to get his nanotech camouflage fur to conceal him against the hideous prints on the family's wallpaper, his magical fur coat short-circuited.
Now, his former friends know him as Splotchy. He lives with it, but with a pack-a-day habit, he won't have to live with it long.
Nobody would let Pickles out of the house. It had been a long weekend of fending off unwanted advances from her housemate, Filibuster, as he struggled with his hormones. She'd been fixed; why hadn't he? If her parents loved her at all, they'd take that perverted sleazeball to the vet and whack off his johnson.
I love that phrase, "whack off his johnson." It's so visual and picturesque.
The men here probably don't feel the same way.
Johnson?
"I call upon the sacred feline powers of Kitbar to turn the rest of my face fur black!"
"Leaving Valdez" by Cat Wesley Hardin
A marmalade cat discovers the only thing worse than having fur clotted with infamous oil is taking the perilous 4k mile trek home to find its favorite blankie has been enshrined as bad sixties, acid trip wallpaper.
Paco slams the door shut to Little Max's room and heads back down the hall...
A CAT.
PACO
Cats are bad luck.
Paco CLAPS his hands but the Cat doesn't move.
PACO
Shit. He's giving
me the evil eye.
Paco throws the bottle of Thunderbird at the Cat -- bottle shatters -- Cat doesn't move.
PACO
Quit staring at me!
He tosses a VASE -- it SHATTERS.
The Cat stays.
PACO
Outta here you son-
of-bitch!
He throws a LAMP that shatters near the Cat but the Cat stays.
Paco gets on his knees -- prays to God:
PACO
Please don't do this
to me, Lord. Please.
I promise never to
gamble again if you'll
just spare me from
any more bad luck.
Paco shuts his eyes...
PACO
I'm closing my eyes,
Lord and when I open
them back up, please
let the Cat be gone.
Paco slowly opens his eyes to see...
The Cat.
Paco once again closes his eyes -- clasps his hands even tighter together...
PACO
Lord, I'm begging you.
Show me a sign!
Paco opens his eyes to the Cat scratching on the carpet.
Paco watches intently -- waiting for his sign.
The Cat craps.
PACO
Crap, Lord? Cat
crap? What are
you telling me?
Wait... A cat craps.
Craps is my game!
Paco stands.
PACO
It's a miracle!
EXT. FACETIA'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Paco bolts outside, almost bumps into The Beez and Facetia.
PACO
It's a miracle!
It's a miracle!
Facetia and The Beez watch Paco run through the dark street screaming, "It's a miracle!" until he disappears into the night.
The Beez turns to Facetia...
THE BEEZ
What kind of toothpaste
do you have?
Unk
Funny stuff, Unk!
For a while I thought you were heading toward it being a stuffed cat. I liked the reversal of promising never to gamble again becoming "craps is my game." LOL.
Thanks for playing during your rewrite weekend, Unk.
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