Day 34 – The Revenge

Story coming soon. Internet down so can’t paste story in just yet.

 

Virgin Media cut out last night and I didn’t get a chance to upload this story until today.

 

Inspired by our loving, friendly and adoring cat, Sammy – who – no matter how uninviting you are – will always come for cuddles and to sit on your lap……………….and anyone who has met him knows that’s complete and utter bollocks.

 

 

Word count: 977

 

 

Samuel glared at his Aunt, mustering all the disdain his mind had to offer. With her whacky hair and insane grin, she was coaxing him yet again. The rustling of the bag was getting old now. Samuel knew only too well her pinky was tickling the plastic, but he supposed he better play up for the girl just one time. Every time he pounced for the magical mystery mouse, she’s squeak with delight and scoop him up in her arms. Every time he managed to squirm his way out, but she wouldn’t let him go that easily. The trick would have to be performed again.. and again… and again.

The whole thing was quite tiresome. All he wanted was to be left to his own devices for a few hours at a time, maybe stretch his paws of catch a fourth snooze of the day on the living room rug. But with six people surrounding him and adoring him, it was hard to catch a moment to himself. If they were trying to stuff strange objects into his mouth, they were chasing him with laser pens – he knew damn fine he’d never catch that bloody light – and if they were doing that they were jumping up on him when he was trying to eat his dinner in peace. The constant noise. It was horrendous. How was a cat to get a piece of peace every now on then?

Samuel had been out all night on the prowl concocting his evil kitty ways. He’d lived in this new neighbourhood for five months now. It wasn’t like his old home at all. There was a nice little meadow and enough squirrels to feast on for at least one winter. The ingenious plan had indeed appeared to him as he was preparing himself for the chase. Bastard squirrel, as he liked to call it, was mocking him from the branch above. They were both very aware of each other’s existence, but Samuel kept on hoping beyond hope that one day Bastard might just not notice, might just look the other way…. a twig snapped beneath his paw and the evil fluffy tailed creature sprinted right up the bark. His plan was foiled once more. But just as this one fizzled into impossibility, another one crept in from the dark.

He would conduct his plan that very evening. All day it had been plaguing his mind. In every nap he’d had that day, his dreams were made up on the consequences. Would he get away with it, would it work? Would it finally shut them up? Most of the dreams ended well. He would be clawing the furniture as much as it would please him; he would be sneaking streaks of bacon from the fridge and devouring it on the table in front of their very eyes. Glee was the only word he could use to describe it: sheer and utter free-fall glee. He would have as much cheese as he could bathe in, wipe his paws wherever they would reach; the house would be his oyster, though that thought made him hungrier.

There would be no more Mr Tinkles, no more Sammy Sam Sam, not more Sam Sam Sammy and certainly no more ickle kitty piekins! No more chasing inanimate flying objects. No more begging for food. No more being shunted from one room to the next. He would have one bed and that bed would be wherever he chose.

The doorbell rang. His other Aunt had forgot her keys again. She was always doing this. Though, this time, the keys were not mislaid, lost or simply left behind. Samuel had snatched them from the hallway cabinet where the usually lay unguarded and had buried them deep in his litter tray. Daddy let the door open for Aunt. She came sprawling in with her handbag and headphones and dumped everything in a heap on the floor. They were all in now. All six of them. This would be the perfect time. Four of them were in the kitchen, cooing over his adorable purring. Two were in the hallway.

He pawed his way towards them, stretched his body out, gave a loveable little yawn and began to sneak up on some imaginary beast on the stairs. Chairs and tables moved in the kitchen. He could sense all twelve eyes on him now. The chance was his.

Dearest Aunt had still not closed the door. He could feel the rush of cold air brush through his fur. As his audience watched in anticipation of what adorable thing he would do next, he stole his opportunity and bolted down the stairs, through their legs and out the front door.

They all bounded after him, as he had planned all along. He bounced over the road – they bombed along after him. Samuel skidded underneath a car and waited for their feet to run round the other side before summoning all his strength and sprinting back across the road – narrowly avoiding a van or two – through the gate, leaping over the steps and into the warmth of the house. With his tail he threw the door closed and raced into the living room, dove into his litter tray, scooped up the keys in his teeth and darted back to the front door again. He dropped the keys into his paw and jumped up to the keyhole, slotted it in. At this point he could hear their footsteps running up the concrete path. He yanked the key to the left. The door locked and all he could hear was several dull thuds as six bodies slammed into one another on the other side of the door.

Samuel licked his lips and wiped his paws. Bitter-sweet? This revenge was like treacle topped with maple syrup and basking in a lava of molten chocolate ice cream.

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~ by S.G. Mark on November 10, 2011.

One Response to “Day 34 – The Revenge”

  1. Hahahaha

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