“Bye, Fluffy! We’re going to get you a nice cozy bed to sleep in! Doesn’t that sound niiiiiiice?”
Blah! Keep your paws off me, you infantile woman! I am a mancoon! Do you know what that means? No, of course not, because you’re a human! Humans are so thick in the head it hurts my eyes. Honestly… Will it ever change?
Fluffy the mancoon cat lay on her back, purring in mock delight as her “owner” rubbed its slimy hands all over her belly. She kept her paws close to her sides to keep them from taking a glorious swipe at the fool woman’s arm. Now wouldn’t that be lovely? Fluffy thought with a squint of her eyes. So the hunter would become the prey, bless my claws for that future opportunity. But not now.
Her tail, however, had a mind of its own. It thrashed and wriggled as any tail worth its weight in dog urine would be expected to. But, Fluffy thought, it should keep its emotions under control. The darned thing could spoil my plans at any moment!
The woman leaned in and gave Fluffy kiss on the forehead with an obnoxious, “Mwah!” She walked to the door and waved one last time before she left, bolting the door behind her.
Fluffy summarily rolled off her back and gave a disgusted meow. “I don’t think I can take another minute of it. She never stops touching me!” She sauntered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse and lay in a hot patch of sunlight. She then calmed her boiling blood by giving her snow-white pelt a thorough licking.
“And,” Fluffy added with disdain, “It doesn’t help—not one bit!—that she smells like the Manhattan subway in mid-July on a good day. I swear,” Fluffy resolved, “she’ll be the first to go.”
When she was done with her washing, she settled down for a short nap in the warm sunlight. Her human warden had a job at a major law firm—hence the expensive penthouse—that kept her away for most of the daytime, which gave Fluffy freedom to carry out her ambitious plans in privacy. I’ll have plenty of time, she thought in a doze. Good things come to those who wait… or sleep.
Half an hour later, she was sitting on the desk in the study, the internet opened to a Google search page on the woman’s desktop computer. The thing was brand new, not to mention enormous and expensive, all of which were good things in Fluffy’s eyes. The bigger the better.
She did the best she could with her thumb-less paws to direct the mouse to one page that looked promising. She clicked awkwardly and the page sprung up in a flash. As she read, a sound bubbled up from inside her throat, a sound so malicious and horrible to behold that any passersby would have cowered in fear at hearing it. The sound continued for several minutes before Fluffy had to stop in fear of damaging her vocal cords.
Fluffy the mancoon cat had been laughing.
The next morning, Fluffy awoke in her new bed—a complex contraption that had numerous levels and bridges to it, along with a scratching post that she rather liked, she decided, after taking out her brimming frustration on the poor thing the evening before. She yawned and stretched the way that only cats can do, and leapt nimbly down to the carpeted floor. She scented the air for danger and, after determining there was no threat to her person in the general vicinity, she stalked towards the kitchen in search of the food bowl.
What she found there nearly made her gag. A perfect circle of pure horror lay flaccid in the hot pink bowl, its limp meats swimming in a putrid brown gravy of filth. She gave the mixture a tentative sniff. Dear me, she thought grimly. Roasted turkey in savory butter sauce. She scoped the area around the food mat for other options: a glass bowl of little brown pellets sat to her left, looking hard and bland. To her right, a simple bowl of water. “That I could survive on naught but you, my lovely, is my one desire,” Fluffy said regretfully to the water. Well, not really. “But the cruel façade of reality keeps us apart but for the sparing sips we are permitted. You must understand that a cat needs her vitamins, and you are quite lax in that line of work, if I may be so bold. So,” she decided, “I guess that means you, my little sawdust pebble friends.” She dove into the dry food hastily so as to get it down faster. The things cracked and crumbled in her mouth, but she persevered until the bowl was empty. At least it’s not that hell-meat that’s rolling around in my stomach right now, she thought.
She did permit herself a rinse from the water bowl, which relieved her screaming taste buds. What I really need is some fresh kill. That would set things right. Well, almost everything. She left the kitchen and searched for the human. She wasn’t in the living room or the entryway, so she tried the bathroom: the door was open, and no one was inside. That leaves the bedroom. She searched that room as well, but to no avail. The woman must have left early for work. Good, Fluffy thought. That allows me even more time to carry out today’s order of business, with time to spare.
She sauntered back to the entryway, where she eyed the door with a wicked stare. Prepare, door, she thought, to meet your match.
