The time I was in the Constellation CTA579 I had a strange encounter with a cat. I remember it all too clearly. It was a morning and I was in the doghouse counting my blessings having nothing to do. I heard strange sounds. Someone was catfooting around and I sneezed. I knew the cat’s fur was flying around. Being left to yourself in doghouse most of the time you know these things by sixth sense. I was grounded because I took a liking for the postman’s calf the evening before. My master thought a dog that missed a burglar at the job was bad; but to mistake a postman for a bone was worse. Oh I am digressing.
The cat seeing me hollered,’Be prepared for the Armageddon! right now.’ He had an assault rifle and he was positively grinning. The Cheshire cat could not have done better. Seeing my bored look froze him. He waved his AR-15 to say he had everything under control. He just said ‘Hi Kiddo!’
It made me see red. Imagine being insulted by a cat! He was not even a ginger cat; nor did have boots. I merely said “I am Fido!’ There fell a painful silence. The cat was feeling nervous looking sillier by the minute. Whereas being grounded I thought it was left to the cat to make the first move. No way. The cat was shaking all over and had no nerve to twitch even a muscle. Meanwhile a parrot circled above us and said, ‘ Let me sort out this stand-off.”
I showed some misgivings. ‘Trust me, I know how to solve this. I have represented the UN many times over, negotiating. Consensus and all that.’
So I said,’ this cat has some problem. He has his barbie doll and he has been customizing it since he bought it. ‘ That was a mistake. Mr. TriPolly from Libya knew all about assault rifles and he was in a rapid fire patter telling about the rifle, now almost slipping from the cat’s paw. I heard him say it was the civilian version of the military’s M-16 and M-4, a logical choice for anyone whose goal was to kill a lot of people in a short time because of their ability to rapidly fire multiple high-velocity rounds.’
I was catching on fast and I asked,’ how many rounds?’
TriPolly piped,’ It has high-capacity magazines, which feed 20 or 30 rounds at a fast pace.’ He said,’pity it is likely to jam.’
I nudged the cat to ask, ‘Did you hear that, catgut?’
The cat was now very maudlin. The rifle dropped out of his paw by its own weight. I took it and passed to him, asking him to hold steady. The cat took up,’ but I was told it is very therapeutic. Whole day I could change stocks, put lasers on my barbie dolls, put locks on them,”As the cat went on narrating it the color was coming back to his eyes. “It’s just endless. It’s like building a custom car. You can just accessorize it to your own personal taste.” He went into a nervous giggle and said, ‘Aha, see my doll, pink, chrome-plated AR-15. Isn’t she a beaut?’
“It’s blinged out pretty good.”I said. ‘I will tell you what I will do.’ I was for burying it as if it were a bone.’
The cat was horrified! “what I will do with time hanging on my hands? It is worse than death. It is an assault into my personal liberty!’
I said, ‘improve your mind, learn to think straight, Catgut, even playing with a ball of wool would be better.’
TriPolly was sure the cat could learn some facts. Learning to count was one way of sharpening his brain,he said, ‘In this constellation we had 300 million by census of the year of Independence. We have had ten years since then. Liberty to do as we please. We kill thirty million per year. We have not seen any births since our women are free not to disfigure their bodies. What should be our population this year?
While the cat was wresting with the mental maths I whispered to TriPolly, ‘How come we have still a population of 10 million not counting the number children?’
The bird shot back. ‘We live in a bad neighborhood. South of the border. You know what I mean?’ When I looked around the cat was already moving away unable to keep his gray matter together for long. Poor Catgut! liberty was killing him inside. ‘Leave the moron to his liberty!’
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