Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2012 21:01:48 GMT -5
AAAAH SO LONG.
Sorry!!! Here we have an update!!
Mrs. Curtis scooped up her cat. Fuzzy and chocolate brown with a white spotted chest and white curly wisps of curly powder puff fur poking out of her large turned back ears. She glared at her owner.
"Muffins?" she asked, holding the cat under her arms.
"My name is not Muffins," Zara grumbled a low growl resounding in her throat, which Mrs. Curtis took as a purr while scratching her head. Her dark eyes were glittering with unspoken fury as she continued stroking her. "My name is ZARA!" she squirmed and scratched before pushing her way out of the captive hug and pouncing to the floor.
"I'll come back for you!" She cried to the cats on the other side of the door.
"WHEE-HEE-HEE!!!" came Keith's cry as he slid out of the porcelain sink and into a box of bandaids.
--
"George..." Damian whimpered, hugging tight into th white cats side. "What's going on?"
"You!" George barked, which was an interesting feat for any kitten, "Over there!" he directed with his tail. "And you! That ay!"
what must have been 100 squirrels were running around on the tamed fake grass lawn, coating it with tiny mud colored fluffballs.
"Sir, yes, sir!" One solider squeaked, attempting to sound commanding.
"So..." Wilson said as he scurried warily nxt to George. "...Truce?"
"We won't mess with you again," George swore, making an X in the dirt with his claw. "Though, we most likely won't be in this neighborhood."
"But if you...or any of you are?" Wilson prompted.
"You have my word."
The rodent made an audible sigh and wiped is brow. "All right, let's get this sho-"
He was cut off as something smacked the window at full force the same window Keith had fallen through when he'd inhaled that succulent smell of chicken. George sprinted to the glass pane, praying to see Paul, Ryan, or Keith on the other side. Instead, he saw a fluffy kitten he did not recognize. "Where are out friends!?"
"You...You!" she cried. "The guys inside, those are your friends?" ho nodded, and demanded to know what was done with them. "Nothing yet, though your friend attempted to give himself a swirly."
"A...A what?" Damian asked, peeping over George's shoulder.
"Nothing, kitten," she said, then turned back to the elder. "They're fine for the time being, but soon, they won't be, none of you will be! She called Animal Control, they'll surely come and take you all and...and where they go, you don't com out."
"How can I rescue my friends?"
"I've bee trying to widdle this window open for years, ever since she took me in," Zara explained. "I can't get it though. Every time I even get it open a little, she slaps it back shut. I can never get it open on my own."
A squeak of a cough beside George alerted his attention to Wilson and his fist in command, waiting by his paw.
"Perhaps we might be of assistance."
Sorry!!! Here we have an update!!
Mrs. Curtis scooped up her cat. Fuzzy and chocolate brown with a white spotted chest and white curly wisps of curly powder puff fur poking out of her large turned back ears. She glared at her owner.
"Muffins?" she asked, holding the cat under her arms.
"My name is not Muffins," Zara grumbled a low growl resounding in her throat, which Mrs. Curtis took as a purr while scratching her head. Her dark eyes were glittering with unspoken fury as she continued stroking her. "My name is ZARA!" she squirmed and scratched before pushing her way out of the captive hug and pouncing to the floor.
"I'll come back for you!" She cried to the cats on the other side of the door.
"WHEE-HEE-HEE!!!" came Keith's cry as he slid out of the porcelain sink and into a box of bandaids.
--
"George..." Damian whimpered, hugging tight into th white cats side. "What's going on?"
"You!" George barked, which was an interesting feat for any kitten, "Over there!" he directed with his tail. "And you! That ay!"
what must have been 100 squirrels were running around on the tamed fake grass lawn, coating it with tiny mud colored fluffballs.
"Sir, yes, sir!" One solider squeaked, attempting to sound commanding.
"So..." Wilson said as he scurried warily nxt to George. "...Truce?"
"We won't mess with you again," George swore, making an X in the dirt with his claw. "Though, we most likely won't be in this neighborhood."
"But if you...or any of you are?" Wilson prompted.
"You have my word."
The rodent made an audible sigh and wiped is brow. "All right, let's get this sho-"
He was cut off as something smacked the window at full force the same window Keith had fallen through when he'd inhaled that succulent smell of chicken. George sprinted to the glass pane, praying to see Paul, Ryan, or Keith on the other side. Instead, he saw a fluffy kitten he did not recognize. "Where are out friends!?"
"You...You!" she cried. "The guys inside, those are your friends?" ho nodded, and demanded to know what was done with them. "Nothing yet, though your friend attempted to give himself a swirly."
"A...A what?" Damian asked, peeping over George's shoulder.
"Nothing, kitten," she said, then turned back to the elder. "They're fine for the time being, but soon, they won't be, none of you will be! She called Animal Control, they'll surely come and take you all and...and where they go, you don't com out."
"How can I rescue my friends?"
"I've bee trying to widdle this window open for years, ever since she took me in," Zara explained. "I can't get it though. Every time I even get it open a little, she slaps it back shut. I can never get it open on my own."
A squeak of a cough beside George alerted his attention to Wilson and his fist in command, waiting by his paw.
"Perhaps we might be of assistance."