Wednesday Nite, as related by Boots, the Kat~
I wus on the dining room table playing with sum stuff and sorta kickin' the dead flower in the plastic dome thingy. I was making great progress towards pushing it over the edge when it *squeaked* on the table an Dad hollered to QUIT!
I went back to the stuff. Wus having almost as much fun with the blue bag when it happened.
*Rustle, rustle rustle* Big *THUMP* Sounds of fast moving nails on kitchen floor punctuated by *Banging & Bumping* into kitchen cabinets.
Cinder: M'gosh, WHAT wus That?
Smokey: It wasn't ME! I right here onna floor.
Dad: (examining back side of eyelids while pointing head at TV box) Huh? Whass wrong?
*Loud screaming noises* from hallway...
Cin: Kat headed westbound in the hall; big blue thing right behind him...
Smoke: I KNOW I dint do NUFFIN, Dad.
From the baffrom: *Loud THUMP* (Kat hits closet door) *Loud BUMP* (Kat jams body between tub & hall door) *Serious RATTLE* (Kat jams oversize body through narrow opening of shower door)
The Dad *sprints* (fast walk) down hall into baffroom (notices throw rug pushed half way up closet door) hears *violent struggle* in tub. Three heads, (Dad, 2 dogs) peer into tub to observe Kat fighting to the death with one each large blue plastic bag. Dogs excused with a friendly "Get outta here right NOW! or I'm gonna..."
I sorta 'member Dad hollerin "Calm down, Boots; you're OK." But with all the hissin' and Growlin' going on, I had a hard time listening to him. Then sum hand-paws started ta try an hold me down - that's when I turned on the Hisser an the Growler reel loud an made sure all my knives where out. I flopped around inna tub for a while till I hadda stop an catch a breath. Dad grabbed me again an held me down while he started pullin' the vischis Blue Baggy offa me. I *screamed* an he noticed the Baggy was holdin' onta my tummy - wrapped all around me, it was. He tried pullin it over my head, but I used all 10 knives ta suggest that wasn't a great plan. He finally used both his hand-paws an *ripped* the Baggy where its hanz where holdin' me. Thanks, Dad; did the Baggy hurt ya very much? I notice you're leakin' sum red stuff on your arms. Gotta watch them Baggies - they can be very dangerus.
"Boots, CALM down, for Pete's sake. Let me pick you up and we'll go sit down."
Grrrrrr. HissssssssssGrrrrrrrHisssssGrrrr.
"Stop that."
Can't, Blue Baggy might be sneakin' up again.
Cin: Dad, what's wrong wiffa Kat?
Smoke: Has he got mad cow disease?
HisssHisss! GrrrrHisss! HisssGrrrrrr!
Cin: Aw, he's OK, Smokey. Sounds normal ta me.
"Now quit hissing and growling and tell me what happened."
It was the Goons did it to me.
"Who did what?"
Your two Goons - ya know, CinDip and SmudgePot; they putted the Baggy over my headbone an' started kickin' me.
"It's Cinder and Smokey; and they did't touch you. They were lying on me feet watching the Tube. Looks like you stuck your own head through the bag handle hole and then panicked. You were kicking yourself in the tub. And stop growling."
Oh. Is THAT what happened?
"And where'd you get the bag. I don't leave them out."
Not tellin'. And you'll never find the others I got stashed. I still think the Dawgs dun it. THERE! Sumbodys 'tackin' me again. Grrrrr! Hisssss!
"STOP IT! That was just the SmokeKid giving you a lick/smooch on the ear."
Oh... Felt like I wus being 'tacked again. Lemmie offa your chest, Dad - I gotta go eat sumpthin ta calm my nerbs.
Editor's Note: As usual, it was an interesting evening at Phred's Place.
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