open RP in the corridors: Cooper is on the case. Again.

[damnfinecupof]

Not knowing that the talking cats had procured a potion to turn them into humans, Cooper had become baffled at the absence of said cats

Comments

[pollicle_zapper]

((Since the cats-to-humans plot isn't scheduled to happen until Friday, I really can't resist this...))

And who should pass by if not Quaxo, smelling the cream (and goodness, was that catnip?!) and absolutely having to investigate further? He crept up on Cooper and sat down, watching him work silently. After a few seconds of listening to the meowing song he said, quite politely: "Real cat songs don't sound like that."

[damnfinecupof]

The gambit had succeeded! A talking cat had been lured to the tins! Cooper turned, with care, to face the cat.

"What does a real cat song sound like?"

[pollicle_zapper]

"Well, um, first of all we know a lot more words than just 'meow'. Really big words like 'incontestable' and 'implacable' and... and 'gastronomy'!" He nodded, very proudly. "And they're funnier to dance to, too!"

He tilted his head, eyeing the pints of cream surreptitiously. "So, um, are you gonna eat all that cream all by yourself?"

[miss_bunny_swan]

Miss Swan was getting frustrated. She had neither made a sale nor procured the good stuff, and now James Bond was busy talking to the giant pussy. She would have to take desperate measures to get noticed again. She started to lean forward, albeit haltingly, as she was rather plump.

"Oooooooh, Swan drop something, need to pick it up!" Surely the view of her sexy backside would lure James Bond into ponying up for a crazy dirty sex fantasy!

She swiveled aforementioned backside around just a little bit, so that Quaxo and Lord Fanny could get a view, too.

Hey, a foxy lady could never have too many customers, right?

[lord_fanny]

Fanny glanced idly at Miss Swan's sizeable backside. "Mm, baby's got back, I can see," she remarked. "I can see your pantylines, by the way, darling."

[damnfinecupof]

"Meow."

[miss_bunny_swan]

"Yuhhhh, Swan got the sexy pantylines, so crazy, so sexy," Miss Swan agreed, attempting to look over her shoulder and see how well her ruse was working. Unfortunately, she wasn't the most graceful person, and she ended up stumbling, one foot landing smack in the middle of a bowl of cream.

"Oh no, you pay Swan twenty dollar for dry clean the shoe!" she demanded, although it was entirely unclear whom she was expecting to foot (HAHA!) the bill.

[pollicle_zapper]

Quaxo tilted his head. Very strange lady. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Mistoffelees was laughing hysterically in his head, either. Magicians were silly.

[cockneycat]

'Teazer sidles up to him.

'Quaxo, can you ask Mistoffelees if he knows just how little self-preservation instinct you possess?'

[pollicle_zapper]

Oh, talking to me now, is she? Tell her she looks nice.

Quaxo blinked. "'Ve got plenty of that. Um. I think. What, you don't want any cream? I can take yours." He grinned hopefully.

[cockneycat]

'Quaxo! Could be poison,' she says regally. 'Don't have any.'

[damnfinecupof]

"It's definitely not poison," said Cooper, and swigged a straight shot of cream to prove it. "So, what might you be known as, talking cat?" She might give him an alias.

[cockneycat]

'Hmmm,' she says, sniffing. 'Name's Rumpleteazer, or Teazer. 'Oo might you be?'

[damnfinecupof]

"Special Agent Dale Cooper, FBI." He noticed the cat sniffing and hoped she wasn't evaluating the edibility of his face. Luckily, Cooper was good at appearing amiable.

"How are you this evening, Teazer?"

[cockneycat]

'--Oh, sorry, shoulda said, only my mates can call my Teazer,' she says. 'No offence. It's just that I keep my names very close to my 'eart.'

'But I'm OK. Happy. Sleepy. The usual. You, FBI Agent Cooper?'

[damnfinecupof]

"Point taken. Some do stand on formality. Take Mr. Bucket, for example."

Cooper watched the cat closely to see how she would react to the name.