I hear him before I see him.

"Mishy! Come on, Mishy, where are you? Mishy!"

Reluctantly tearing my attention away from the not yet dead rodent, I hop effortlessly onto a tombstone and track Chris with my gaze.

Torch in hand, he's wandering around the cemetery and calling constantly for the Princess. He doesn't sound very happy and I note that his shoulders are slumped dejectedly.

"Come on, Mishy! I'm sorry for treading on you this morning, okay. It was a mistake. I promise not to do it again... *Mishy*!"

Interesting. Whilst I know the Princess is a bitch of immense proportions, I also know that she pretty much panders to Chris and won't, under normal circumstances, leave him. This, in turn, makes me wonder where she is.

I'm so intent on watching Chris that I don't Uncle Charlie has dragged himself out of the garden shed until he speaks.

// What on earth is he on about? // Uncle Charlie grumbles, making the effort to jump up next to me.

// He can't find the Princess. //

// Where is she? //

I bite my tongue from replying that that indeed is the sixty four thousand pound question... I know that Uncle Charlie can't help being old, but, honestly! What a stupid thing to ask. I watch Chris mooch slowly back inside before turning my attention to Uncle Charlie. // She was here this morning. Remember, we saw her during the funeral. //

Uncle Charlie looks at me blankly and I'm suddenly reminded that he'd be lucky to remember what he was doing thirty minutes ago, let alone nine hours ago. // Well, she *was*. // I decide that I'd better go have a sniff around and jump off the tombstone. To my disgust, my rodent has done a runner and I make a mental note to share with the Princess what her absence has caused me to lose. He'd looked damn tasty too.

Leaving Uncle Charlie perched on the tombstone, I meander over to where I'd seen her this morning. While I can just make out her scent, it's almost obliterated by the stench of Fat Cow. I don't like what I'm smelling, but don't really know what to make of it. Surely they wouldn't be so stupid as to do something to her? I mean, there's stupidity and then there's having an all consuming death wish...

Deciding that I may as well go and investigate their hovel, I wander over to their fence and jump easily into the mud-pit they call a backyard. Inching over to the back window, I'm suddenly thankful for not having eaten the rat...

Oh.

Peering at the hideous scene through only one eye in no way improves it.

I'm an easy going cat. To each their own and all that, but... Nah. I mean, surely that has *got* to hurt... Not to mention I can smell the alcohol fumes through the barely open window. I could be wrong, but they appear to be celebrating something. Well, that's what I assume the copious take-away containers, empty beer cans and revolting lack of clothing equates to.

That can't possibly be going to fit there!

Oh.

It does.

I'm outta here.

I think I'm going to be scarred for life. Not even the ping-pong ball trick in the dirty little night club in the city comes close to the sense of revulsion I now feel. Bounding over the fence, I don't stop running until I reach Uncle Charlie and the garden shed. He looks at me strangely and asks mildly // Did you see anything?//

// Don't ask! Just don't ask... //

Burying myself under Chris' old jumper, I try to clear my mind of what I was just unfortunate enough to witness and contemplate never coming out again.

Thankfully, I slip into a light snooze and, instead of my unconscious subjecting me to a re-run of the bad porn movie that is the Fat Cows, I dream my favourite fantasy. In it, the Princess is lolling about on a massive red satin cushion and she's waiting for me and me alone... I'm the process of strutting manfully over to her when the sound of Chris' voice brings my dream world to an abrupt halt.

"Mishy! This isn't funny anymore! Where are you? *Mishy*! Come on, Mishy!"

Sighing, I dig myself out of his jumper and walk over to the door of the shed. This time, along with the torch, he's carrying a plate of cat food and, from the expression on his face, he's none too happy.

// In the name of the Goddess, won't he shut up? Some of us are trying to get some sleep // Uncle Charlie complains.

// He's worried. // And so am I. Although I have no idea what they've done, the Fat Cows have obviously done something to the Princess. I thought they were over what we did to their party, but obviously not...

Chris, after meandering slowly around the cemetery, returns inside. Suddenly feeling somewhat sorry for him, I decide to pay him a visit. Well, that and the fact that, having lost my dinner, I'm somewhat hungry makes visiting him seem like a good idea.

Saying farewell to Uncle Charlie, I wander over to Chris' place and sneak stealthily through the cat-door. Although I'm trying to be quiet, he still hears the tell-tale sound of the cat-flap and all but materialises in front of me.

"Mishy!" Looking at me, his face falls. "Oh... It's only you..."

I tell myself not to take offence at this and rub around his legs. Sighing, he bends down and pats me gently. "Well, so long as you're here, you may as well eat this..." Chris indicates to a full plate of cat food near the sink. Purring my thanks, I head over to the food and proceed to stuff my face. I'd forgotten how good this tinned muck tastes and don't know why the Princess constantly sticks her nose up at it. In my book, although I have no idea what a lobster is supposed to be when it's at home, it tastes better than a rat any day.

Sighing again, Chris leaves the room and, once sated, I go in search of him. I find him in the living room. He's sitting on the floor, with his back against the base of the sofa and he's holding her collar limply in his hands. He looks so miserable that I genuinely feel sorry for him (so he loves the Princess, we all have our problems...).

Not knowing what else to do -- where's Sam when you need him? -- I settle near his legs and, after having a good wash, go to sleep.

Maybe when I wake up she'll have returned...