Dweezil straightened his apron, adjusted his chef's hat, and smiling opened his paws wide and said, "Welcome, welcome to Chez Dweezil, a small and rustic establishment nestled deep in the heart of horse country, Maryland."
Squig sat down in shock. Dweezil had obviously lost his mind. This wasn't a small and rustic establishment nestled in the heart of horse country, Maryland. This was Maia's kitchen and the only place it was nestled was Maia's house. This was bad, really bad. What if there were cameras rolling and his best friend, dressed up like some kind of a nut, was making a fool out of himself in front of the whole world. He bet there were carefully hidden camera's around someplace. Whoever had helped him set this up had obviously also placed Internet camera in the kitchen. He had to do something fast, but what.
Trying not to alert Dweezil, who was now pontificating about something or other, he walked backwards out of the kitchen and into the hall. Sitting down and extending a claw, he picked around until he felt the loose floor board. Pressing on it, it sprang open and inside the space was a small book. A secret book full of all the helpful hints a cat would need throughout his life. Grabbing it, he opened and started scanning the table of contents.
"How to get rid of unwelcome rodents. Teaching your kittens about the litter box. Dealing with humans parts 1 through 800. Creating a human friendly environment." Squig read softly to himself. This was not helpful. Where was what to do when your best friend had lost it. It had to be in here somewhere, he just had to keep looking.
He stopped momentarily to listen to what Dweezil was up to now and heard him say, "We here at Chez Dweezil believe in only fixing what is locally in season and today since mother nature has blessed us with this marvelous abundance, we are going to fix crispy fried cicada.
As Squig heard the word, cicada, his eyes opened wide, he placed the book back in its hiding place and began to salivate.
TO BE CONTINUED