~Jojo~

I'm bored.

I am so unbelievably bored that I'm beginning to wish I'd stayed in the city and taken my chances with The Slug.

I'm used to being on the move, ducking and diving, laughing in the face of danger, and catching the odd nap in some unsuspecting hookers bedroom.

And now I'm here with Uncle Charlie, who's principle excitement in life is helping the Crazy Caretaker bury dead people. <sigh> Oh, and the goings on next door.

I have to admit, I've only been here a couple of days, and next-door-but-one has already held the most crass party I've ever witnessed. Makes me miss even the S&M Club back in the city. At least the clubbers were generally polite, and their costumes fit. I've never seen so many round people in costumes at least six sizes too small. And the music, well less said the better.

Still, I'm not one to miss an opportunity for food, and I can forgive most things if there's grub to be pinched. Anyway, I quietly gatecrashed the party, and spent time quite happily minding my own business under the rickety old formica table that held the food. Unfortunately not a whole lot was coming my way, apart from bits of bun. What's a hungry tom-cat to do?

Well, lets just say I'm not going back there any time soon. The neon yellow and pink lycra-clad house-on-legs that apparently owns the place was none too impressed with my methods of persuading food to hit the floor. I mean whats the big deal with prodding fat ankles with a claw?

They get to run around screaming about monsters under the table, and I get food. Fair deal, it seems to me. But the lump of lard that calls herself a woman, was positively psychotic. She screamed and threw things and vowed revenge on her next door neighbours in language that even I was shocked at. She even came at me with an oversized bread-knife. Now I know I want a little excitement, but psychopathic beings intent on gutting me is exactly what I came here to get away from.

And you know the most galling thing? The sausage I did get away with was rock-solid. I nearly cracked a tooth.

It was just after that, that Charlie filled me in on situation. The old codger could have done that before that party, I mean, what consideration, still the old boy seemed to get some amusement at the antics of whom I now know to be Mrs Fat Cow.

Charlie's in love, you know. In the house between the Cemetery and Mrs Fat Cow there are, according to him, two very nice young men and a verrry classy Siamese kit. Course, I'm not sure if he's actually in love, or if this kit is the only friend he has. There's not a whole lot of cats around here, and Charlie's hardly the most outgoing.

I'm hungry. The Crazy Caretaker doesn't seem to feel the need to feed me; he barely remembers to feed Charlie.

Jojo, my old son, it's time to go a-hunting.

I go for a stalk around the tombstones and come nose to nose with a tiny mouse that doesn't seem particularly scared of me. Silly rodent.

Breakfast over, I go to the bit of broken glass by the gate to check my look.

My tabby fur's as clean as it'll ever be and I'm looking good. A little too skinny about the flanks, perhaps, but then, I'll never be a fat cat, and I always think my torn ear gives me that macho look. I check there's no mouse left between my teeth and satisfied decide to pay next door a visit. I've not seen anyone go in or out, and Charlie says they often go away for days at a time.

I pause to give my right ear a good scratch. Come on boys and girls, leave the ears, they're sensitive pieces of equipment. <sigh> Fleas just aren't trainable these days.

I scout the place out, and find an open window. People tend to be so careless. The window leads straight into the kitchen, and I'm in paradise. There's someone moving in the next room, but my stomach doesn't care. The kitchen sink is full of plates and bowls. I smell the mould beginning to form in places, though it's not visible yet, but there's plenty of foodstuff just begging to be appreciated.

Mmmm, someone has good taste in Chinese takeaway.

I jump to the floor and find even more foodstuff. The bowl that contains it smells strongly of she-cat. Must belong to Charlie's kit. Oh, yeah, gourmet cat food, that hits the spot.

Sated, I sit in the middle of the kitchen floor and wash up. I'm washing my behind when the kitchen door opens, and I freeze, back leg still in the air. This guy looks a little weird. He's wearing a woolly hat thing that covers his face; I can only see his eyes. Whatever turns you on. I put on my best Little Orphan Annie expression, in the hopes that he'll take pity on a poor starving mog.

He ignores me. Well. In all my life I've never been ignored. Screamed at, objects thrown at me, petted and fed, yes. But ignored? No. Never.

I consider launching myself at his groin. That never fails to get attention, I've found. But I decide to go for the friendly gambit first, and tentatively rub his leg.

Next thing I know, I'm heading for the wall rather faster than I'd have liked. But I was half expecting it and hey, I'm a cat. I land on my feet, and give him a well-deserved hiss. But at least I'm not being ignored.

Much to my consternation, the man is climbing out the window. Doesn't this place have a door?

That rear end is too tempting after the insults though, so I jump up, being sure to dig my claws into his rump. He squeals and falls back into the kitchen. So I run up his back, claws all the way. I pause on his head, calculating the jump I need to make from this increasingly unstable platform to get out the window myself.

I can hear other people coming toward the kitchen, and my perch goes from panicked to frantic. I dig my claws into his face, trying to keep hold and he screeches.

Suddenly hands grab me, and once again, I'm heading for the wall. Said wall arrives before I have time to twist round, and I bounce off it, landing on the floor in a heap. That hurt.

Two men come into the kitchen, and seconds later the woolly hat guy is tied up and unmasked. I note with satisfaction the red streaks on his face where I got him. Serve him right. Now, I just gotta get outta here while the goings good.

I stagger to my feet, but the room is moving about too much, so I sit down waiting for it to stop.

// Hello?//  The most sexy voice I've ever heard comes from the door, and I'm speechless. This must be Charlie's kit. She looks down her nose at me and I'm in love. Her tail goes bog-brush. // How dare you invade my home?// She growls.

Hoooo, Princess, come to papa. I give her my best 'come-hither' look.

// Vulgar creature//  she snorts, then stalks toward me. I don't somehow think she's in the mood to make friends.

// Sorry, Princess//  I blink as I see three of her for a second // Just wait till the floor sits still, then I'll be out of your fur, okay?//  She doesn't look impressed, and continues stalking me, growling.

I'm really not up for a fight, and my legs are feeling kind of wobbly, so I crouch down. Before I know it, I'm resting my nose on the floor. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Hey, Chris, look," says one of the men, "Mishy's found a friend."

// Eeeuch!? Sam, please!//  The classy kit almost shrieks at him. // Chris, get this filthy moggie out of my kitchen.//

The other man sniggers, "I don't think they're friends Sam, Mishy's not happy." he drawls. "Actually, I don't think this cat looks too well. Do you think he was hurt?"

// Not hurt//  I tell him indignantly as I try to detach my nose from the floor. // Just stop the room, and I'll be out of here//  Actually the floor is slowing down. I look up and find three faces staring at me. The two humans are crouched down, and looking concerned.

The one with the grey-blue eyes, reaches out a hand, to pet me I suppose, and I take a half-hearted swipe at him.

// Excuse me//  Her Highness puts her face in front of me. // He's mine. Only I get to do that.//

I blow her a raspberry, and lurch to my feet. // Well, thanks for the fun and food, I'll be off now//

"Do you think we should take him to the vet?" asks the man with the silver-green eyes.

Vette? I know what one of those is. One of the regulars to the S&M club had one. I heard people saying it was because he had a small ego. Or he was born with a chipolata. Never did understand what small sausages had to do with driving a fast car.

Why would they want to take me to one of those? Snotty kit's looking at me in some amusement.

// I suppose your ignorance should come as no surprise,// she said, washing her paw. // You have fleas, which is rather indicative that you've never been to a vetinary surgeon//

Vetinary surgeon? Oh, no. No. There is absolutely no way I am ever going anywhere near one of those. Someone took my mate Jerry to one after a car hit him, and he never came back.

I back away from the two men, then suddenly make a break for it, through their legs. They try and catch me, and I leave them sprawled on the floor.

As I reach the window, I take a quick look back. Her Snotty Highness is looking vaguely amused as she washes herself.

I salute her with my tail, and jump out, heading back to the cemetery.

I sit on a tomb and lick my wounds, preparing to settle down for an afternoons sunbathing. I could get to like it around here. I open an eye, and see the Princess sunning herself by the window of her palace.

I could definitely get to like it around here.