Call me Mr Fuzzybutt. Some time ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no kibble in my bowl, and with many hours before dusk, I thought I would explore the skirting boards in the kitchen, for whatever small beasts might lurk in the shadowy parts.
It was there that I met Captain Wasabi, a most queer-looking animal, covered all over in scars, with scrabbly ginger fur and and half his tail missing. He entered through my own cat flap and, upon making my acquaintance, this peculiar beast told me that we would go together upon a journey, under the kitchen island and through the defunct coal chute into the cellar, where he would find and kill the beast that had tormented him this last week with its unspeakable wile.
“What is this beast?” I asked, for I was quite nonplussed.
“Mousy Dick!” He cried. “The great white mouse that took this chunk from my right ear when I swiped at him. Now I vow that the first cat to see that squeaky little bastard will have half a pack of out of date bacon that I fished out of the bin at number 49. But the great white mouse will be mine, and mine alone. To the hunt!”
We crept through the cellar, and there were many mice that nested in the bags of old paper, such that we smote, one after another, in a great trail of carnage, each and every one that we encountered, and Captain Wasabi ate their kidneys and pulled their heads off. But he was unsatisfied.
Just then, we heard a great crash above our heads, and I cowered behind the boiler, for I was much afraid that the house would fall upon us, bringing a woeful fate to us both. Captain Wasabi crouched, and fluffed up what there was of his fur, and called “Who the fuck goes there? Show yourself!”
It was Cutiesquish, the mysterious Persian from next door, who had also come in through my catflap, and was igniting in me a suspicion regarding the cause of my sadly exiguous kibble supply.
“You will never defeat Mousy Dick!” cried Cutiesquish. “And you are a fool, Captain Wasabi. Do you not know of the prophecy of Mousy Dick and this very cellar? Turn back! Turn back to the car park behind Tesco, lest you perish in this folly!”
But it was too late, for Captain Wasabi was possessed with a fury. Suddenly, as he peered down between the floorboards, he saw a grey nose and whiskers, rising from the depths, and two rows of white teeth of ferocious sharpness. He flattened himself to strike, but it was too late, for as he did so, a monstrous white rat burst straight through the floorboards, which it had already gnawed to some considerable degree, and affixed its odious teeth upon his other ear. Captain Wasabi clawed at the beast’s belly, and the two fell down, together, beneath the floorboards. There they bit and clawed in such a savage humour, growling, hissing, spitting, that it was quite obscene to behold, until each was no more than torn strips of bloodied flesh, and the cellar was quiet again.
Alone, I could not find my way back out. I peed in a corner, then lay in solitude until the humans returned home, whereupon I yowled with great ferocity and they eventually found me. Beset by a great tenderness and pity, they opened a tin of tuna for me.