And Boils Over Part 3

In the ensuing weeks the boys often commented that it was as if someone had erected a billboard with a large red arrow pointing directly at their front door; and on it that someone had inscribed the following in letters ten feet tall:

"Give me your strippers, your hookers, your pole dancers, your various and sundry ladies of the night all yearning for that easy job where one would be absolutely guaranteed to make a lot of money."

When the hoards of hopeful applicants grew into the hundreds and became a tad surly,Dweezil and Squig became experts at crowd control utilizing both expansive methods of persuasion, as well as a more often than not baseball bat and a club sized aerosol spray container of Pest Begone.

The neighbors, understandably taking a dim view of the scantily clad lady cats lounging all over the nearby yards, were as well as shunning the beleaguered family, actively circulating a petition to have them thrown out of the village.

None of this mattered too much to Annie, the source of the whole mess, because she was up in her room working on her 20,000 word essay covering the following points:

1.  My fathers know more than I do and want the best for me.
2.  Kittens should never sneak behind their fathers' backs and disobey them.
3.  The caternet is not a toy that kittens should play with.
4.  False advertising is against the law for a reason.

So one evening,  it was with a  heavy heart, Dweezil just knew that should he actually be fortunate enough to realize his dream,and open his wonderfully chic restaurant, after this no one would ever darken the door. And leaden feet, he simply hadn't the energy to deal with another smart mouthed sex trade worker, that he made his way to the front door. Opening it, he peaked out and stared at the elegant black and white lady cat standing on his doorstep.  From the top of her cherry red cloche hat to the complimentary bow tied around her neck there was something achingly familiar about her. He looked, blinked and looked again.  Holding on to the door for support, he finally whispered the word, "Mother."

TO BE CONTINUED  

And Boils Over Part 2

The lady cat at the front door wasn't exactly what Annie had in mind when she placed the add. She was grey and slinky and carried a small suitcase.

"Hi doll," she rasped in a voice that echoed too many late nights. "You're a little young to be getting started, but then I wasn't a whole lot older than you when I entered the trade," she commented dryly,entering the front hall and looking around, "So, she continued, just where are these big bad gentleman cats?"

As if on cue, Squig entered the hall and stopped dead in his tracks as he looked the lady cat up and down. "So," he smiled, "just who do we have here."

"If you want to turn your pain into pleasure, Domonatrixie is the name to remember," the lady purred, pulling some kind of whippie thingy and a pair of handcuffs out of her suitcase.  Smacking the whippie thingy against her leg and circling her head with the handcuffs, she slithered over to Squig and proceeded to wrap herself around him like a boa constrictor.

Squig's eyes bulged out as she tightened her grip, until finally finally he started squawking, "Dweeze, Dweeze, I need you, in the hall, NOW"

A few seconds late, Dweezil, none too pleased at being interrupted from his baking, walked in. First he stood quietly, taking in the disgusting display in its entirety and then stated calmly, "Madame unhand Squigman this minute."

"Her name in Domanatrixie," Annie volunteered, helpfully.

"And you know this, how?"

"Because if you want to turn your pain into pleasure, Domanatrixie is the name to remember," she chirped happily.

Dweezil looking like he could chew nails, stomped over to the pair and without further ado pealed Domantrixie off of Sqig. "Madame,"  he growled, put away your accouterments and remove yourself from the premises."

"Well, you needed be so huffy, Fat Boy, " Domanatrixie shot back."After all you advertised for me."

"I did no such thing!"

"Want to bet Fatso," she continued walking over to her suitcase and removing a torn piece of paper, "Lady cat wanted to discipline, while at the same time being very nice to two gentleman cats." she read narrowing her eyes and staring straight a him. "For the right lady cat this will be a very easy job and you will make a lot of money.  Oh yes, you should also be able to show a small girl kitten how the job is done."

"Squigman," Dweezil roared, "knowing full well we have an innocent little kitten living with us, why did you place an advertisement (pronounced with a soft i) for a hooker?"

"I didn't."

"Well if you didn't and I certainly didn't who.."  and he didn't have to finish that thought.  Because all of a sudden he knew.

"Annabelle, explain yourself," he commanded.

"Well," she stammered, wringing her paws, "I just thought that once you met the lady cat, you'd like her and you two would stop arguing all the time and we could have a real home."

"Ahh, the lady cat said looking somehow softer and less threatening, "those two baboons weren't looking for a good time you were looking for a mom, am I right?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Trixie," Annie said softly nodding her head in the affirmative.

"So am I kiddo, " she answered kissing the top of her head, "so am I."

"I want the small female cat to go to her room this instant and I want the large female cat to crawl back under whatever rock she crawled out of and leave here at once " Dweezil commanded pointing to the door.

"Dweeze, this was just a mistake and I'm sure there was no real harm done," Squig chuckled as he picked up Trixie's suitcase and helped her out the door.

"You know, "he whispered, hoping that Dweezil couldn't hear "You really had me going there for
a few minutes, but now that we know it was all a mistake, maybe sometime if you're free we could?"

"Here's my card," she smiled call me anytime.

"I might just do that," he answered shutting the door.

"Squigman," Dweezil pronounced, heading back to the kitchen, "I heard that.

"Oh Fat Boy, eavesdropping were you" Squig chuckled, "This is really pretty funny if you think about it. I don't think we should be too hard on Annie, since it was just one lady cat and no real harm was done."

In the weeks to come, Squig was to find out just wrong he was on both accounts.

TO BE CONTINUED

And Boils Over Part 1

As if on cue, Annie looked up from her book and saw her daddies standing in the doorway.  At least she thought they were her daddies.  One definitely was.  One was definitely Daddy Dweezil, but the other? "OMG," she thought to herself as she stuffed her paw into her mouth to keep from having hysterics.  The cat with the purple pompadour on the top of his head and the fried whiskers, had to be her Daddy Squig. What on earth had he done to himself.

"Oh Annabelle," Daddy Dweezil said dragging Daddy Squig into the room.  "Your father, Squigman and I have had discussed your Lady Cat suggestion in a dignified and rational manner and have decided that things are fine just the way they are."

Annie noticed that Daddy Squig was clenching and unclenching his claws while Daddy Dweezil had been speaking.  Were his claws actually painted? Her jaw dropped while she watched him.

"And so, " Daddy Dweezil continued, we do not need to find a Lady Cat border."

"But what if I have an embarrassing question? Who's going to sit me down and answer my questions?" she asked innocently.

"Why, your Father Squigman will be happy to answer any question you may have." Dweezil said benignly smiling over at Squig.  He's just full of all sorts of helpful information."

"Me," Squig shrieked, "Why do I have the answers to embarrassing questions?  Weren't you the one with that story about all the little muffins in the tin?"

"Because you, " Dweezil answered airily, always have something to say about everything."

"If you will recall," Squig shot back punctuating each word with a jab to Dweezil's chest. "At the time you told me that I was as subtle as a game show host looking for a four letter word for procreation, first letter f and it rhymes with luck."

"That's right take the low road," Dweezil sneered, crossing his paws in front of his chest. "The low and common road."

"I'll show you the low road." Squig hissed and I'm going to kick you butt down every inch of it."

Annie stopped trying to figure out what a four letter word for procreation was and decided that if plan A was not going to work, she was going to be forced to put alternate plan B into action.  So later that evening, after her daddies had left for the night, she crept into the study and went to the computer.  Turning it on and clicking on the caternet icon, she went straight to Louis' List and placed the following ad under the Personals Heading.

Lady Cat wanted.  Must be able to discipline, while being very nice to two grumpy Gentlemen Cats.  For the right Lady Cat, this will be a very easy job and you will make lots of money. Oh yes, she should also be able to show a Girl Kitten how the job is done.

Satisfied with her ad, Annie clicked on send, turned off the computer and went to bed, confident that help was on the way.

The Plot Thickens Part 3

The cat formerly known as Dweezil crossed his paws in front of his chest and eyed Squig up and down, assessing his look.

"Well," he finally said, "your lady cat certainly wasn't  exaggerating your lack of style.  In fact I can see that she was down playing the situation. You are," he continued circling, around Squig with a predatory swagger, "as well as being a slob and a hot mess, completely out of style.  But we can fix that.

"Oh you can, can you," Squig shot back. "Well did anybody tell you that my "lady cat," is very quickly going to find herself in the nut house if all of this crap doesn't come to a screaming stop."

"My, my," Dweezil tut tutted, "she did warn me that you might be recalcitrant and stuck in your ways, but I assured her that I have dealt with situations like this and I can certainly deal with you."  And with that, before Squig had time to react, Dweezil slammed him into a chair and belted  him down.  Then with a dramatic flourish he wrapped an apron around Squig's neck, tightening it the the point Squig could hardly breathe.  Next, he pressed down on each paw, until Squig extended his claws and tied them down.

"Be right back," he sang out as Squig squiggled and squirmed in his chair.  This was wrong.  This was all wrong.  Dweezil was the looney who should be strapped in a straight jacket, not him.  He was the sane one.  How had this gone wrong and what on earth was he going to do about it.

But, he did not  have long to ponder his problem, as Dweezil arrived, humming a cheerful tune and pushing a cart full of fur dressing accessories.  Before Squig had time to say what the ......  Dweezil pounced and commenced gluing, teasing, curling, shaving and painting.  Then he sprayed Squig from head to tail with some kind of horrible perfumed shellac. Stepping back to admire his work, he said "Oh if you aren't the picture of style now.  Let me go and get a mirror and show you how wonderful you look."

He then pushed the chair in front of a full length mirror covered by a black, silky, fabric.  Untying Squig, he whipped the cloth off the mirror so Squig could admire the new do.  What Squig did was stand open mouthed in horror at the abomination staring back at him from the mirror.  That cat had a purple fake fur formation glued to the top of his head.  Every whisker was curled.  Half of them facing left and half facing right. Each claw was painted a different fluorescent color.  And the word D'Weze was shaved down his back. He sank back in the chair momentarily speechless.

Then slowly he stood and slowly he turned to face Dweezil. "I am going to kill you," he hissed, puffing himself up to twice his size. What do you mean shaving that stupid name in my my fur, you miserable."

"A great artist always signs his work, " Dweezil said flatly, examining his claws.

"You are not a great artist," Squig shrieked. "You are Dweezil the cat."

"That may be" he responded, "But you my friend are officially now a doodad and you owe me ten."