M. Dweezil's Ecole de Charme - Part 3

Dweezil smiled over at Annie. "Well are you ready to try your table manners?

"Oh yes, Daddy Dweezil, I'm ready."

"Daddy Dweezil," he thought happily to himself, drawing his paws to his chest. "She said Daddy Dweezil.  She didn't say Daddies or Daddy Dweezil and Daddy Squigman, she only said Daddy Dweezil."

This observation was not lost on Squig who was sulking in the corner, pretending complete disinterest in the whole thing.

"Now if my off the air assistant will please bring the food bowl out." he instructed as a large pink bowl of wet cat food materialized. "When you're ready Annabelle, let's see how a little lady eats her dinner."

Dweezil was horrified to watch Annie scrunch down, wiggle her butt, and without further ado launch herself over the desk, landing with all four feet in the bowl.  His shock intensified as she buried her face in the food, messing up her carefully tied bowl.

"Annabelle," he squawked, what are you doing? You are supposed to be eating  like a lady, like a Dweezil Do."

"Oh yes, she said with her mouth full of food, "Chicken, I definitely smell chicken. It has the bouquet of a whole bunch of chickens. And it has the flavor of a whole bunch of chickens with maybe a rooster tossed in for spiciness."

"No, no, no," Dweezil shrieked  That is not right. " Did you learn nothing from my instructive Dweezil Do film."

And with that Squig turned to face the camera and said happily. "That's my little girl, folks.  Isn't she a pistol?"

Dweezil however, took off his beret and buried his face in his paws.  It was obviously going to be a very long, uphill slug fest, turning this little hooligan into a proper cat.

M. Dweezil's Ecole de Charme - Part 2

"You traitorous snake," Dweezil hissed, "you wouldn't dare."

"Oh wouldn't I, Squig hissed back.  "And as far as being a snake, you bet I am.  I'm the great big boa constrictor hiding in the tree waiting for your fat weasely butt to come by and then I'm going to drop down on you and start, choking."

And with that the fight began in earnest.

"Daddies!," Annie screamed running up to them.  Stop that right now.

"Daddies?" Squig thought in  mid choke.

Daddies?" Dweezil thought in mid chomp.

"Daddies!" they said in unison, turning their heads to stare straight at Annie in shocked disbelieve.

"Yes, daddies," Annie remarked, primly.  It makes kittens upset to see their daddies fight.  Now shake paws and say you're sorry."

Squig spit out the words first, without feeling any remorse at all.  He was followed by Dweezil, who muttered something about traitorous snakes under his breath.

"That doesn't sound like an I'm sorry to me." Annie admonished.  You try it again. Now shake paws and say you're sorry.

"I'm sorry," they both said slowly and shook paws with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

Retrieving his beret and turning to face the camera, which he sincerelty hoped had not been filming this entire time, said, "Well now that we have seen the Dweezil don't of table manners, let's turn our attention to the Dweezil Do, featuring, you guessed it, me."

"Why am I not surprised," Squig said under his breath, garnishing him a stick eye from Annie.

"Now said Dweezil, notice how I am patiently waiting for the food to come to me.  See the lack of interest I am displaying, as if food is the last thing on my mind.  Once it has been placed in my bowl and set near me and only after several seconds of my human telling me how wonderful it is and begging me to eat, do I slowly walk up to the bowl. Now I sniff the entree, taking in the bouquet. Ah, I believe it was chicken and tomato. Next I take a sip of the broth and savor the flavors.  And finally when each of  these steps has been completed, do I condensed to take the first bite.  Hmm, delicious I seem to be saying.

And smiling into the camera, Dweezil purrs happily, "Bon Apetite."

TO BE CONTINUED
 
   

M. Dweezil's Ecole de Charme - Part 1

Squig walked into the kitchen and was shocked.  He wasn't sure why.  By now he should be immune to Dweezil's antics,  But somehow they always managed to take him by surprise.  Today, Dweeze was marching around in a stupid looking beret and there was a large film screen set up in one corner.  Someone was helping him again, but who? Now if he was Dweeze, he would be putting on a Sherlock Holmes hat and marching around with a pipe muttering things like, "Elementary, my dear Squigman."

Drumming his claws on the floor, he thought about it for awhile as he took in all of the particulars of this latest insanity.  There was Dweezil marching around looking officious and there was little Annie, sitting primly behind a small desk.  She had a large pink bow tied around her neck and was looking expectantly at Dweeze.

He had actually roped Annie into his latest delusion and this would not do at all.  Just at the point, Squig was about to march in there and drag her back into the real world. Dweezil opened his mouth and began.

"Good morning young ladies throughout the world wide web and our current studio student, Miss Snowballinsky.  Today's topic is table manners."

All of this was said with a stupid Pepe le Peu phony French accent and Squig made gagging noises under his breath.

"Today, " Dweezil continued, "I am going to introduce you to our very first Dweezil Don't, mystery cat Mr. S.I., and together we are going to observe his horrific table manners. In case you need to review our film,we will very soon be posting it on You Tube under the heading M. Dweezil's Don'ts. So, if our behind the scenes assistant would be so kind as to start the film we can now commence our lesson.

Firstly I would like you to notice the obnoxious way he is weaving between his human's legs. He is never letting up, applying constant pressure. This will not get you fed any faster," he instructed. " In fact it has the opposite effect on humans.  In annoys them into slowing down."

Squig paced back and forth, trying to figure out how to sneak Annie out while Dweezil was busy acting like an ass.

"Just listen to Mr. S.I.'s annoying screech." Dweezil commented. It says to the whole world, I'm needy and desperate.  And I want to make it perfectly clear, that these are two characteristics a cat never want's applied to him or herself"

He waived his paw in the air and smiled into the camera. "Let's turn the sound up louder, so we can all catch the desperation in that voice."

Squig snapped to attention.  He knew that voice and when the sound was amplified,  he knew exactly who mystery cat, Mr. S.I was.  It was him, Mr. Squigman Igmewkowski. His ears went back and his eyes narrowed into slits as he turned to watch the rest of the film that was soon to be on You Tube.

"Now watch, " Dweezil tut, tutted, as the cat on the screen launched himself onto the counter. "He is now putting his paws, which have been heaven know where, on a newly sanitized counter.  Disgraceful. Watch as he knocks his head into the spoon.  Appalling.  Just listen as slurps and chomps. Nasty.  And for the coup de grace of repulsiveness, just look at his face as he manages to lift it out of the bowl."

Horrified, Sqig watched as on the screen, he lifted his open mouth out of the bowl and dripped half chewed food onto the counter top.  He got to see it again as Dweeze order the shot  zoomed in for a close up of the food falling out of his mouth.

"You dare put that video on You Tube," he roared launching himself at Dweezil, claws extended and paws swinging, "and I'll, I'll.."

"You'll what," Dweezil answered, arching his eyebrows and looking entirely bored. "Do tell us what you'll do.  I'm sure the whole world is just chomping at the bit waiting to hear."

Squig sat down and smiled nastily as he knew, for once, exactly what to do. "I will tweet a picture of your butt and underneath it, I will write, "Guess who's overdue for his sanitary cut.  First clue.  HIS NAME RHYMES WITH WEASEL 

TO BE CONTINUE

And Then There Were Three Part 2

"Now the thing to remember about Dweeze," Squig whispered looking down at his small companion,"is that he's very particular.  So you have to be on your best behavior at all times when he's around"

"I got it," she chirped happily looking up at him.  "I must always remember that the Dweeze thinks he's elegant and refined and that he's very particular."

He was taking her home.  What else could he do, leave her out there to starve or be some kind of tasty appetizer for the coyote. It all seemed logical and the right thing to do when they were in the field.  But somehow, standing here about to go in the house, ten million nervous worries were attacking from every angle.  He knewexactly what Dweezil was capable of when provoked; but trying to figure out just how provoked he was going to be by a new family member, was enough to make him want to go screaming back into the field.

Miss Annabelle Snowbalinski, however had no such worries or nervous trepidation, so she marched confidently into the kitchen, calling out, "Oh Dweeze, come and see me, I'm here."

Squig scrambled after her and arrived just in time to see Dweezil saunter around the corner and stop dead in his tracks as he observed the newcomer.

"So Squigman," he" hissed who or what is this?"

"Hiya Dweeze," She chirped walking up to him. "I'm Annabelle Snowballinski and I'm very pleased to meet cha."

Dweezil's ears went back and his tail started to twitch.  He was in the process of puffing himself up to twice his size, when the little interloper looked up at him and said, "Squig's told me all about you."

Squig smacked his paw up against his head.  Why hadn't he insisted that she call him Mr. Dweezil.  This was not going well at all.  He was just at the point of running to her rescue, when she chirped, "but he didn't tell me you were sooo cute."

Dweezil deflated like a balloon and his ears came forward and he curled his tail around his legs.

"You have to be the handsomest cat I've ever seen."

Was she batting her eyelashes at him.  Squig was dumbfounded.

"Squig told me you were all elegant and refined.  And so I was wondering, if it wasn't too much trouble, if you could show me how to be a lady."

"Oh my dear child," Dweezil cooed, "Of course I can show you how to behave." he purred walking over to her and kissing her ears. "You have just given me a wonderful idea.  A knew theme.  Perfection.  Now there's just one thing. He," Dweezil said pointing a claw in Squig's direction, "may be called Squig.  But I am always to be referred to as Mr. Dweezil." he smiled wrapping a paw around her. "Do you understand."

"Oh yes sir. Mr. Dweezil, I understand."

"Good"

Of all of the outcomes Squig could have perceived, this was not on the list.  And whenever Dweezil came up with a new 'wonderful idea,' it always meant trouble.

And Then There Were Three Part 1

Squig could sense the mouse.  He followed it with a type of prey sensing radar hardwired into the brain of each and every cat.  Quietly, he tracked it's movements. Silently, he followed it, never taking his senses off it for one minute. And thenl he was close enough.  Coiling himself up, he sprang, landing, as expected on the mouse and bumping into something small, white, fluffy and furious.  That was not expected.

"That's  my mouse," it squeaked. "I caughtted it, now give it to me!"

Squig sat back, taking his time, while inwardly chuckling as he watched the show in front of  him. "Well, he began, "if this is your mouse, why do I have it?"

"You have my mouse," It said, laying its tiny ears back and puffing itself up to the size of a respectable snowball, 'because I caughtted it and you stoled it. Now give it to me!"

"OK, OK, let's calm down here" Squig reasoned, "We can find a solution to this problem. Let's suppose I do give this mouse to you.  What are you going to do with it?"

"Why, I would rip it to pieces and gobble it down." The kitten replied marching around in attempt to look very scary and ferocious.

"Hmm," Squig said thoughtfully, "and just how many mice have you eaten in the past month, twenty"

It shook its little head no.

"Ten, no. How about five, no.  What about two.  Have you ripped two mice to pieces and gobbled them down?"

No again.

"Well if you haven't ripped any mice to pieces and gobbled them down, how about birds, no, squirrels, no, rabbits or rats? What about bugs?  Have you torn any bugs to pieces?

"No, bugs are gross!"

"Well then what do you eat?

"I eat my special kitten food in my special pink kitten bowl."

"OK, so here's what we're going to do." Squig laughed, lifting one paw and planting it firmly on the kittens back, holding it down while lifting the other paw to free the mouse. "We're going to let this mouse go and then I 'm going to walk you home, so you can eat some of your special kitten food in your special pink kitten bowl."

"No," it said miserably.  You can't walk me home.  I don't have a home."

"Everybody has a home," Squig replied kindly, and I'll bet you'll recognize it the minute you see it.  I also bet your humans are out looking for you right this minute. They're probably really worried, so let's get going."

"No they're not.  They dropped me off in this field this morning and told me I had to live here now.  Then they drove away."

Squig was shocked.  This was a development he had not foreseen and it troubled him, greatly.

TO BE CONTINUED

And Now a Word From Their Sponsor

Hi all, not to worry.  The boys will be back. As we speak, they're cooking up all sorts of mayhem and God only knows what they'll be getting into.

The reason why they've been absent, is that I have been crazy busy.  Work is intense. I've had a few photo jobs and Kitt has sweet itch.  Now before all of you XXX'rs get all worked up.  Sweet itch is not a feminine hygiene problem, nor is it my good idea for a porno film.  It's an equine skin condition.  Kitt is allergic to gnats and since we've been having a wet spring, her coat is a mess.  So, every evening after work and twice on the weekends, I go out to the barn to treat it.  Forget riding her, until this issue clears up, my equine activities revolve around spraying calm coat, treating her raw areas with antibiotic, anti fungal creams and then rubbing in the fly spray.

It seems that Kitt isn't the only horse with this lovely condition.  A friend of mine's Arabian has it so badly that she went and invested in a fly coat.  That worked for about a half an hour and then Glory rolled and ripped it to pieces. So she's back to the daily routine.  Question, do you guys out west have this issue, or are you living in a gnatless paradise, in which case I hate you. Just kidding.

Oh yes, the other thing I've been up to is going to graduation parties.  Would someone like to tell me when did the thank you note go extinct.  Back in the early neolithic when I graduated from high school, if one of my parent's friends had written  me a check and enclosed it in a card with a cute picture of  yours truly on the front of it; after I fainted from shock, I would have written a thank you note.  Because I would have gone nowhere or done nothing until I did.

Stay tuned.  They will be back

In the Kitchen with Dweezil and Squig Part 4

"Oh my heavens, what have I done," Dweezil exclaimed in mock horror as he accidentally on purpose knocked the entire contents of the Hotter Than Hell Jabenero Pepper can into his spice mix.  He then looked over at Squig, who now wearing his chef's hat, was sulking in the corner.

"Oh Sous Chef Squigman, would you be so kind as turn on the burner under the cast iron pan?" He asked, innocently.

"Whatever Chef Dweezil," Squig grumbled as he walked over to the oven and turned on the burner.

The minute Squig's back was turned, Dweezil quickly mixed in the pepper and began preparing his cicadas.  First he speared one, dipped it into the milk, and then chuckling manically to himself, rolled it in the spice mixture. In no time, all of his cicadas were prepared and ready to go into the pan.

"Sous Chef," he called out sweetly, "would you be so kind as to drop the cicadas into the hot oil.  But I want you to be very careful when you do it," he continued looking benignly over at Squig," because the oil is hot and I wouldn't want you to get a nasty burn."

Feeling extremely ill used and put upon, Squig marched over, hopped on the counter, grabbed the cicadas and walking over to the stove dumped them in the oil,.

"Oh nicely done." Dweezil beamed over at Squig. "You know, since you're doing such a good job, I think I'm going to let you taste one, before I plate the rest.  How does that sound?

"Great.  Is there anything else I can help you with, Chef.  Anything at all? I'm right here at your disposal. Just name it and I'll do it."

"No, no. I've got it under control.  All we have to do is wait until the timer goes off and then you may take the cicadas out of the oil and place them on that plate." He smiled, indicating a festive blue plate sitting on top of the oven.

Ding went the timer and Dweezil, hopping off the counter, turned off the burner. Looking up at Squig he instructed, "Now one by one, take the cicadas out of the oil and put them on the plate.  But do be careful, they will be hot."

Not needing to be told twice Squig speared each cicada, now crispy and tinted a fiery shade of red, and carefully stacked them on the plate.

"You know," Dweezil said sweetly, drumming his claws on the floor, "You did such a good job, you don't have to stop at one cicada.  You can have as many as you can stuff in your mouth."

Squig immediately speared four cicadas and crammed them in his mouth.  His eyes bulged, his mouth was on fire and he spit the cicada bits everywhere, as he ran in circles looking for water.

"I know they're delicious, but there really isn't any need to dance around." Dweezil chuckled.

"Water," Squig croaked.

"This should cool you down," Dweezil said, jumping on to the sink, and turning on the tap sprayed Squig in the face with cold water.

"In my mouth, in my mouth, not on my face," Squig cried opening his mouth.

And with that Dweezil turned the water on full force and let Squig have it, knocking him off the counter and onto the floor. "My, my," he said looking down at his soaking wet friend, "you seem to have lost your hat. I guess your job as sous chef is over.  Turning toward the camera, he grinned and said, when it doubt, you can always alter your recipe from crispy fried cicada to fire cracker cicada, which in this instance has done the job quite effectively."