Laser Cat II: Flipped

  See?  I told you I would post a sequel.  If you have not read the first volume, it's fine if you read this one alone, but I would suggest checking out the other one before you read this.  The story makes a lot more sense.  Enjoy! :)                                                                                                                                                                 The wind whipped in my ears, pulling the tufts of fur inside this way and that as I streaked across the countryside, the rabbit almost in my reach. Its scent had found its way into my precise feline nose four minutes ago, and the hunt was now finally on. I managed to push the plump, spotted hare into a nearby snow bank and it lost its balance, slipping directly into my paws. Just as I was to deliver the killing bite, the hare melted, along with my surroundings, into blackness that enveloped my vision entirely. Then, it opened into a bustling kitchen, and about six different smells all hit me at once.  (I'm not good with numbers. They're pointless. Six is, like, three hundreds, yes?)                                                         Mouse dung! I had been dreaming about that STUPID rabbit again. One episode of Wild Russia,shouldn't effect my dreams that much! I blinked once, and stood. My paws were awkward with sleep, and I nearly slipped on a puddle of spilled water. I could faintly perceive my ginger-furred reflection in the accidental mirror, and flicked my ears in happiness that it was, as always, impeccable. As I trod up the iridescent stairs onto my specially made catwalk, I heard my name mentioned, the word Zing amidst the gibberish constantly trailing out of the longpaws’ peasant mouths. I stalked high above them, my mind now clear of post-nap fuzziness, watching as their giant, floppy paws slap together one of those odd dishes they seemed to create. They always take them into a nicer-looking room with no stains on the floor or yelling.  This os, of course, highly illogical.  The food is mainly herring, shrimp, and poorly farmed and raised red snapper, and everyone knows I own everything I see, as with all other cats.  Wait, does that even make sense?  I don't care.  Even with hundreds of scents distracting my senses, I could tell in a second they were doing a rather sloppy job. The odd acidity of it pervaded my nostrils, and I decided it would be a snack for later. For all you picky pussycats out there who are flinching at my choices, here is a statistic: 11% of all things are ‘food’, while 36% are in fact edible. Though I’m lionized here, I take what I can get. You never know when you are on your way to Petco and a gang of revenge-seeking mutant herring-and-red-snapper hybrid ninjas will spring out to apprehend you. You may have to live on something different. So, I am on a mission to taste everything edible, because I eat canned herring for dinner every night.

Suddenly, a new smell entered my already packed scent range, so I picked it out of the fray and analyzed it. I determined it to be Beanface, a new visitor here. I name all of the longpaws because they never name themselves as far as I know. I named him Beanface because his nose is shaped like a squishy bean, which I had never seen before he came here. I rushed to the doors just as he toddled in to see if he still had the beanish nose, which I was relieved to see had not run off to conspire with the mutant herring hybrids on how to create an evil Frankenstein made of fruit to kidnap and punish me for crimes against sea life. I could immediately sense his disdain upon seeing me. Bizarrely, he does not favor me as much as the others who work here, possibly because he believes I cause trouble. (I think he is the only one. Most of the main food preparers yell with joy when I leave surprises to garnish their stews.) My senses became disinterested almost instantly, though, and I found a new thing to scrutinize. A piece of meat had been left to assimilate into the checkered floor. I at once desired it, and coiled my haunches while sensing the calamity in Beanface’s mind. He was obviously worried about my safety, which was the correct thing to think about. The beacon of amazingness that is me is vital to the survival of this establishment.

I sprang gracefully down, making sure to calculate trajectory so my landing looked as awesome as I felt while falling. It seemed like hours elapsed while I descended, getting closer to the scrumptious morsel every second. My strategically weight-distributed landing absorbed most shock, and there was only a few seconds between landing and snapping up the nugget, leaving no particle unchewed. Beanface sighed, and trod further into my dwelling. (Longpaws call it ‘kitchen’, but I am sure they simply preform culinary experiments in my place of living due to lack of space.) I then remembered my snack. It seemed I had eaten days ago, and I was suddenly gripped by a crippling sensation of hunger. I leapt onto the cold stovetop, and it was soon gone. (I’ll spare the details for the weak-stomached of us.) I was pleased about my meal, and was about to shed in a cream of mushroom soup, when I felt a warm tingle inside me. At first only in my belly, but it spread almost imminently to my limbs, chest and head, a sort of energy that made my teeth buzz. I felt like I could do anything, impossibly powerful and strong.        Just as I was to pounce on nothing to show my power, Beanface sprinted into my domain, doors blowing open. He stopped for a second to eye me, and seemed disgusted at my evident pleasure. I sensed a flicker of dissensionin his eyes, as if he had wanted to grab me and pump my stomach, but knew that would not be a great idea. The energy jarringly intensified, and I suddenly felt like a pot about to blow its top. The sensation was like being shackled all your life, then finally being freed and able to run and play. Then, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. All this energy felt like it was migrating toward my eyes. Suddenly, my eyes’ heat intensified, and then all the charge was gone. Only a small, tingling flame in my stomach was left, at least as far as I could detect. Beanface took one look at me, and ran out the door into the rain whimpering about going insane. I only then noticed the smoking hole in the saucepan I had made. I had just shot beams of pure energy from my eyes, I realized with a start.   How in the whole entire world did I do that?, I thought quizzically Oh, I know!  The pure awesomeness of my earlier jump must have ripped time and space, allowing me the abilities of some far-off extraterrestrial. Naah, that's probably wrong.  Who cares, anyhow? Then, I coiled back into my favorite resting position. All this stuff had tired me out. I drifted to sleep with one word hanging in my mind like a stray pot in the saucepan bin. Awesome.