cat7
So I
emailed the 25 most hottest richest women in Hollywood.
See if they want to see a movie. Talk it out with them, see which one I'm most compatible with.
I'm sure she'll have a car.
Oh! here that cat comes, from doing her business.
Oh I know that look. "Go on, tell me more." I say, acting excited, so as to get her talking
before she asks me to change the box.
It works.
Well she gets to the capital just in time to hear the speech. No problem to get into the audience.
"Well scripted, and acted." she reports.
"Shouldn't hold his nose over his audience so high.
It gives the impression he is bigger than he is, but makes him look like Mussolini.
An overall regular guy, who likes to win.
But right now we need a real governor.
Not some cheerleader.
Why pick on nurses, teachers, retirees benefits, and redistrict the state and there by tamper with the vote.
Talk about special interest.
An overall regular guy would not do that, especially a hero type."
His communication spectrum appears to start outside his body and not from his center, she explains to me.
Hell I don't know spectrums, I can't see them.
"It means that its not coming from his heart."
she says.
"And the way he bullies.
What is this?
A shakedown.
I decide to investigate more."
So that night she sneaks into were Gov is asleep.
She adjusts her sight to see the maximum amount of spectrums possible.
Which she says is good for seeing around corners and stuff,
but it also has its drawbacks, she has to determine what is solid.
This saves her much time, cuts out all that looking in every room and nick and cranny.
She describes a room of transparent forms of different vibrating colors and dancing spectrums coming from everything.
The Gov is sleeping alone with box of chocolate beside him and the wrappings all over the place.
Blankets kicked off, she goes on to describe a short, muscled man wearing very provocative night wear.
And off the head of the Gov is a unnatural source emitting spectral waves which reach far into any area.
She had to walk in stealth for an hour to approach the head of you know who.
She sees that the strange source is actually a single strand of hair on his head.
Well not a hair but a device made to resemble a hair but, in fact, a device she has not seen since her life as a Rider.
A device that sets off waves to cause panic and confusion to an enemy but this one has been set to
produce feelings of contentment and confusion.
"Strange" she says, Earth technology is not there yet and this device shouldn't be here, but there it is.
I can't let her get away with that insult. What about the space ships in Star Wars I say with my superior look on.
She just gives me that blank look, I got her again, she continues.
So this is not right she proclaims, that a device like this is unlawful on any civilian, especially anyone in a position of power.
She acts out her story, using the room as her stage, telling me "I am still an officer of the Riders and the device must
be confiscated and destroyed."
So she very, very carefully catches the strand between her teeth and just before she can pull it out.
She had mistook an ear for a fold of the pillow and she brushed it waking the Gov.
He jerked up causing her to clamp her claws into his head so as not to lose hold of the device caught between her teeth.
Describing a scene of this screaming muscleman dressed in a satin teddy with puffy trim and a cat clinging tight to his head
bouncing around the room knocking over everything.
She's laughing as she imitates the Gov's dancing hysteria.
"Help! Help! terrorists!" the Cat pantomimes the Gov, dancing in place on her hinds
with her little paws waving in the air.
Cat yanked the hair out, jumped off while the Gov was running head first
and at full blast towards a nearby wall, hitting it with a loud thud.
Men ran in, guns drawn, she slipped out between their legs making good her escape.
That night as she looked for a ride to Washington she puzzled on the device she threw into a bum's fire.
Was the device put there by the Gov or by someone else, and did he know?
Deep inside she felt this terrible fear of the only possible explanation for this device.
After eight lives she knew when the end of the ninth was close.
Wait a minute Cat, I say, I got some email about my online personal add.
"Come up to my place and see my talking cat." I use the name "Snappy Dresser"
Let me check my email.
It's a good story and all, but I have a life too, and I can't keep the ladies waiting.
Copyright 2007, Manuel Samaniego. All rights reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including storage or retrieval systems without the written consent of the artist.