Brian and Maddy have gone up north, leaving me with both cats. Boo, my talkative shadow friend, who I’ve bonded very well with. Boo who is no longer horny thank the lord. Boo who just persuaded me to spend a good twenty minutes playing with her when I should be learning my lines. And Misty. Fluffy pudding. Misty just installs herself somewhere and expects love. I left my electric blanket on for her and she’s barely moved all day. She lies next to my face as I sleep and bats me in the mouth if I’m having weird dreams. I can largely prevent the story going bad, but there’s nothing like a catfriend to punch you in the face when you are about to start following an unhelpful cosmic track in dreams.
I’ve got these two reprobates all to myself. So we’re gonna have a cat rave. Get in.
I’ve ordered a load of mice in, a good few kilos, active ones. They’ll be running around. Some of them are mice strippers. I’ve put Misty on the tech, just cos she’s more likely to pay attention to it. Boo is a cat after my own heart. She’s perfectly capable of the tech but she might get distracted. She’s better off on reception and response if something goes wrong. I’ll start her on the door as she won’t run out of it. I’ll move her to checking performers once the bulk of punters are in. She’ll either be the one that everyone has an experience with or she’ll be off pulling mice out of gutters and sorting out disputes with the hedgehogs who can be spiky.
There’s a guy in Camberwell who does high grade catnip on delivery. I’ve had the number for decades, it’s one of the best in town but reflected in the price. It’s good if you’re catering for Top Cat, Liono and Cheetara, even Tom if he can get away from the home. Boo insists it’s worth it buying the good stuff. Misty reckons she’s got someone for half the price but I don’t trust her to be in touch with the catnip market so I’m letting Boo sort it out because, between you and me, Garfield might show. I’ve had it through his people. I can’t do him lasagne, but I want to offer him high grade nip instead. I’m told that’s more his jam these days anyway. He’s trying to move with the times. Plus he’s been hanging out with Hobbes who hasn’t been well since Calvin took that job in silicon valley.
We don’t need a sound system. We’re gonna use Boo’s lungs, she’s proved she can out shout anything and now she’s no longer horny she has the attention span so is clearly the best resource we have for amps.
So yeah, it’s on. Cat Rave! These furry maniacs and me gonna ‘ave it up large.
I’m just gonna look at my lines first. In bed. Bed is the best place to do work when it’s sleet outside. So … I’ll just do this work in bed before the cat rave. And maybe I’ll have a little power nap before we get on the catnip. I’ll just have half a Dreamie. That’s all I need these days. And a mouthful of Sheba to ground me and if someone can stroke my belly then I’ll attempt to bite their face off. Maybe a little nap. The rave will happen anyway I’m sure. Misty is very organised, Boo is responsive, they don’t need me, that’s all you need, that’s the team, I’ll just have a little rest, then I’ll be ready to take it all down tomorrow. Boo is pretty good with the forklift, but she might have other pulls on her attention and Misty can’t do it for shit, but she’ll have the breakdown spreadsheet. I might need to help with practical stuff or get on the phone, won’t know until the morning, best I get some rest and let the cats have their party. If things go to tits I’ve asked Thomas O’Malley to come wake me, and I think Macavity will help too but you can never tell with Macavity.
zzzzz
AlBarclay 