"Now just wait right here and don't go anywhere," Dweezil commanded shiftily as he left the kitchen.
"Now where does he think I would go?" Squig asked himself sarcastically. He knew that whatever was coming was going to be one of Dweezil's better efforts, but this time it would be different. This time he would be prepared and ready. Nothing Dweezil could do would shock him.
Nothing except exactly what Dweezil did, arrive back in the kitchen wearing a cabbage rose print sun dress, a jaunty straw hat with streaming pink ribbons, bright pink lipstick and false eyelashes.
"Oh Squigman, sweety pie," he lisped as he minced over to where Squig stood wide eyed in shocked horror. "I ran into Merlot and Miewsette down at the fur salon, and we got into a discussion about our gentleman cats and how they had let themselves go" He purred, sidling up to Squig and batting his false eyelashes for emphasis.
Recovering quickly, Squig backed away and answered very cleverly, if he did think so himself, "Oh you did, did you Dweezette, and just else, besides your gentlemen cats, did you girls talk about?"
And so while Dweezil chattered cheerfully away about gentleman cats and fur styles, Squig was busily picturing the padded cell into which he was going to install him. It would be a lovely place where the costume du jour would of course be a straight jacket. But wait, what about the Dweeze's love of hats. Well maybe with enough advanced notice, they could fine one with a hoodie. And in his interludes of sanity, Dweezil could personalize it. He almost fell down in hysterics visualizing Dweezil in straight jacket with a hoodie festooned in feathers and spackled over in sequins.
He was so busy congratulating himself on his clever solution to this little problem that he almost missed Dweezil saying something about a little surprise and a special guest. He looked up just in time to see him blowing little kisses and twirling out the door.
He immediately ran over to the computer, pulled up the Baltimore Yellow Pages and started looking up the phone number for a place to send Dweezil. Nut house didn't seem to be the correct term and so he tried loony bin. When that didn't work either, he started frantically thinking up every word he knew that meant crazy. He was so busy at it, that he almost missed Dweezil's grand entrance.
"Yo bro," he sneered as Squig looked up from the computer.
"Ok, " he answered, "I'll bite. Who am I dealing with now?
"I," he replied, humbly placing a paw on his chest, "am D'Weze, fur dresser to the stars."
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Sunday, September 15, 2013
The Plot Thickens
"Daddies," Annie asked innocently, putting her front paws behind her back and crossing her claws for good luck. They were all sitting in the den and her Daddy Dweezil was reading the paper while her Daddy Squig watched TV.
"Yes, dear?" Dweezil asked putting down his paper and neatly folding it up.
"What do you mean, safe," Squig squawked while jumping up and down in his seat."You blind moron, the runner is out. Anybody can see that he's out. Is everybody on the field asleep. Why isn't somebody protesting that call!"
"Ahem, Squigman," Dweezil interjected,"Annabelle has something that she'd like to ask us. Go right ahead Sweet Pea, now what did you want to say."
"Yeah, Annie what's up." Squig asked turning his attention away from the blind moron and runner who was clearly out.
"Well," she began, "I would like to suggest, that it might be nice, if we sort of, you know, kind of like invited a lady cat to come over and stay with us."
"A what," Dweezil and Squig asked in unison.
"You know," Annie squeaked, "A grown up girl cat..."
"Oh Squigman," Dweezil asked innocently, "might I have a word with you in private?"
"Oh sure, Dweeze," Squig answered hopping and following Dweezil down the hall and into the kitchen.
"There will be no lady cats living in this house!" Dweezil pronounced banging his paw down on the counter for emphasis.
"But Dweeze," Squig interjected wanting to point out the obvious, that their Annie was going to be a lady cat in a few short years.
" Do you know what they call two or more lady cats gathered together? Dweezil asked narrowing his eyes and twitching his tail.
"No." Squig answered shaking his head.
" A lynch, that's what they call them. A lynch of lady cats. A lynch as in a lynch mob, because that's what those lady cats are compelled to do, string up some poor unsuspecting gentleman cat and change his life forever."
"Now how do they do that, Dweeze."
"It all starts with doodads." Dweezil explained, "Each lady cat comes complete with doodads and if you don't see them right away, it's not because they're not there. She's just got them hidden .You see doodad hiding is part of her sneaky and devious nature.
"It all starts off innocently enough," he continued expansively, warming up to his subject. "We'll come home one morning from a fine nights hunting, and there it will be, one innocent, innocuous looking doodad. But don't be fooled my friend, no don't be fooled. Because while we are sleeping, that one innocent, innocuous doodad will have spawned two others. And then there will be ten doodads cluttering up our house and then two hundred and then two thousand, and before we know it our comfortable abode will have been converted to a shrine to the almighty doodad," Dweezil thundered in tones that would have made an evangelical preacher proud.
"But that's not the worst thing she'll do," he hissed lowering his voice for maximum effect. " You see, that lady cat will not rest until she's turned us into her own personal doodads."
"Now Dweeze, be reasonable." Squig asked, trying to interject some sense into this ridiculous discussion that was quickly spiraling out of control. "How on earth can a lady cat turn me into a doodad?
"Easy," you poor naive thing." Dweezil sighed, shaking his head. "It will have happened before you realize its done."
"No it won't,"
"Want to bet."
"Sure."
"You're on."
TO BE CONTINUED IN TWO WEEKS. GOING ON VACATION.
"Yes, dear?" Dweezil asked putting down his paper and neatly folding it up.
"What do you mean, safe," Squig squawked while jumping up and down in his seat."You blind moron, the runner is out. Anybody can see that he's out. Is everybody on the field asleep. Why isn't somebody protesting that call!"
"Ahem, Squigman," Dweezil interjected,"Annabelle has something that she'd like to ask us. Go right ahead Sweet Pea, now what did you want to say."
"Yeah, Annie what's up." Squig asked turning his attention away from the blind moron and runner who was clearly out.
"Well," she began, "I would like to suggest, that it might be nice, if we sort of, you know, kind of like invited a lady cat to come over and stay with us."
"A what," Dweezil and Squig asked in unison.
"You know," Annie squeaked, "A grown up girl cat..."
"Oh Squigman," Dweezil asked innocently, "might I have a word with you in private?"
"Oh sure, Dweeze," Squig answered hopping and following Dweezil down the hall and into the kitchen.
"There will be no lady cats living in this house!" Dweezil pronounced banging his paw down on the counter for emphasis.
"But Dweeze," Squig interjected wanting to point out the obvious, that their Annie was going to be a lady cat in a few short years.
" Do you know what they call two or more lady cats gathered together? Dweezil asked narrowing his eyes and twitching his tail.
"No." Squig answered shaking his head.
" A lynch, that's what they call them. A lynch of lady cats. A lynch as in a lynch mob, because that's what those lady cats are compelled to do, string up some poor unsuspecting gentleman cat and change his life forever."
"Now how do they do that, Dweeze."
"It all starts with doodads." Dweezil explained, "Each lady cat comes complete with doodads and if you don't see them right away, it's not because they're not there. She's just got them hidden .You see doodad hiding is part of her sneaky and devious nature.
"It all starts off innocently enough," he continued expansively, warming up to his subject. "We'll come home one morning from a fine nights hunting, and there it will be, one innocent, innocuous looking doodad. But don't be fooled my friend, no don't be fooled. Because while we are sleeping, that one innocent, innocuous doodad will have spawned two others. And then there will be ten doodads cluttering up our house and then two hundred and then two thousand, and before we know it our comfortable abode will have been converted to a shrine to the almighty doodad," Dweezil thundered in tones that would have made an evangelical preacher proud.
"But that's not the worst thing she'll do," he hissed lowering his voice for maximum effect. " You see, that lady cat will not rest until she's turned us into her own personal doodads."
"Now Dweeze, be reasonable." Squig asked, trying to interject some sense into this ridiculous discussion that was quickly spiraling out of control. "How on earth can a lady cat turn me into a doodad?
"Easy," you poor naive thing." Dweezil sighed, shaking his head. "It will have happened before you realize its done."
"No it won't,"
"Want to bet."
"Sure."
"You're on."
TO BE CONTINUED IN TWO WEEKS. GOING ON VACATION.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
A Rose By Any Other Name...Or Whatever
Hmm. Dweezil cleared his throat in order to get Annie's attention. Good child that she was, she was hard at work studying,"Mousing 101."
"Hmm.hmm, hmm," Dweezil tried again, a little louder and a whole lot more strident.
"Yes, Daddy Dweezil," Annie asked looking up from her book.
"Well, " he began, sitting down and wrapping his tail around his legs, "Since your father, Squigman, and I have basically adopted you, I was thinking that maybe we should do something about your name."
"But I like my name," she protested. "It's my name and I like it."
"Now, now, " Dweezil continued pointing a claw in her direction. " Don't make a decision until you've heard my suggestion. What would you say to us changing your name to Lady Annabelle of Inwood? Doesn't that have a lovely, phonetic ring to it?"
"Not as lovely and phonetic as Annie Igmewkowski," Squig interjected walking into the room. Annie Igmewkowski, now that's what I call a name."
"Yes," Dweezil said snarkily, "Annie Igmewkowski is certainly what someone like you would call a name."
"Well what's wrong with it?"
"Igmewkowski is a very lowww and common name. I wouldn't hesitate to say," he continued, closely examining his claws, "that you could search the whole world over and never find a noble anything, named Igmewkowski."
"At least I have a last name,"Squig hissed, laying back his ears, "Sir Dweezil of the barnyard."
"Oh yes," Dweezil hissed right back, coming face to face with Squig, "You couldn't even find an earthworm or an amoeba willing to be called Igmewkowski. That name is so low class."
"So says Sir Dweezil of the poop pile."
"Why you miserable little rodent."
"What, I'm no longer the traitorous snake? Having trouble coming up with adjectives to describe me?" Squig answered pleasantly. I can certainly describe you. You're a a big fat phony."
"Daddies," Annie squeaked, not realizing they were a wonderful time Stop fighting this instant. " It was no good. She was outnumbered. How could one small girl kitten keep two gentlemen cats in line. She needed help. She needed an ally. She needed a lady cat.
"Hmm.hmm, hmm," Dweezil tried again, a little louder and a whole lot more strident.
"Yes, Daddy Dweezil," Annie asked looking up from her book.
"Well, " he began, sitting down and wrapping his tail around his legs, "Since your father, Squigman, and I have basically adopted you, I was thinking that maybe we should do something about your name."
"But I like my name," she protested. "It's my name and I like it."
"Now, now, " Dweezil continued pointing a claw in her direction. " Don't make a decision until you've heard my suggestion. What would you say to us changing your name to Lady Annabelle of Inwood? Doesn't that have a lovely, phonetic ring to it?"
"Not as lovely and phonetic as Annie Igmewkowski," Squig interjected walking into the room. Annie Igmewkowski, now that's what I call a name."
"Yes," Dweezil said snarkily, "Annie Igmewkowski is certainly what someone like you would call a name."
"Well what's wrong with it?"
"Igmewkowski is a very lowww and common name. I wouldn't hesitate to say," he continued, closely examining his claws, "that you could search the whole world over and never find a noble anything, named Igmewkowski."
"At least I have a last name,"Squig hissed, laying back his ears, "Sir Dweezil of the barnyard."
"Oh yes," Dweezil hissed right back, coming face to face with Squig, "You couldn't even find an earthworm or an amoeba willing to be called Igmewkowski. That name is so low class."
"So says Sir Dweezil of the poop pile."
"Why you miserable little rodent."
"What, I'm no longer the traitorous snake? Having trouble coming up with adjectives to describe me?" Squig answered pleasantly. I can certainly describe you. You're a a big fat phony."
"Daddies," Annie squeaked, not realizing they were a wonderful time Stop fighting this instant. " It was no good. She was outnumbered. How could one small girl kitten keep two gentlemen cats in line. She needed help. She needed an ally. She needed a lady cat.
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