ten ✶ (joint) video;
[Hey, Anatole. Do you know what you haven't seen in a while? (Or maybe ever, but that time is about to end.) Catbutt. That's right. This is catbutt, the extreme closeup edition, and it's meowing out the other end as if the world is going to end.
Like it's asking a question. Turning and rubbing against the Forge as it trills out a series of cries that sound like a child asking why.
Endlessly.
It's a pretty good question, and Lilly is asking herself the same thing - has been since about three o clock this morning when all of a sudden it began to dawn on her that forty six cats?
WHY INDEED.
All colors. All sizes. All over the goddamn apartment. Is that a cat going up the drapes? Yes! Is that another chasing it back down? Yes!
That is a cat preparing to pounce a near-full grown duck, too! If the duck (white, with red cresting around her beak and eyes, and grey spots reminiscent of fish scales) notices, it doesn't seem to matter because she is waddling through the cat crowd - making weak, little quack quack quacks.
But then, Shirley sweeps into the Forge's view and scoops the duck into her arms. For a lady that never seems ruffled, she sure does look distressed at the moment.]
Enough. You cannot keep them all!
[Behind Shirley, Lilly steps onto the sill and reaches toward the lone cat still perched precariously on the curtain rod - while another kitten stretches up on its hind legs to bat at the hem of her skirt. (Yes, she is not wearing pants and it isn't even a costume party.) Stepping down, cat under her arm, almost tripping to avoid the gray tiny that's still soveryinterested in her skirt. (And now her ankle!)-]
I really meant to stop after the fifth. And the tenth. I don't even know how this happened.
[And that's a pixie zooming by, for the record.]
I can't put them back outside, but-
[Headtilt. Peering at the screen. Aaaaand suddenly aware that this is broadcasting.]
-look, we're famous.
[For a long, long second, Shirley looks as thought she might throw the duck at Lilly. Then, she takes a deep breath and huffs.]
Wonderful. Perhaps someone will put the sense into you that I cannot.
[(You mad, Shirley?)
A sigh and a direct question for the viewers-
-well, as soon as she's able to nudge the next cat away from the screen. More catbutt? It's like cowbell. There can never be enough.
Actually, there can.]
I can't keep them all.
We can't keep them all.
I-
[This is when disaster strikes: one particularly thin cat launches himself from a chair and right onto Shirley's back - who screams and drops the duck, who proceeds to flap her wings and fly for Lilly's head. All while quacking in stress.]
Get rid of them!
[The poor cat, he didn't manage to keep on her back very long. The same cannot be said for the duck.
Today is a day for learning. Just as she's learned that it is not a good idea to shelter forty six cats under one (increasingly small seeming) roof, she is also learning that it is a difficult process to gently disentangle duck feet from her hair. Without stepping on the cats.]
Anyone got a place they need to rent? It looks like there's a cat shelter in Anatole's future. Just not in this apartment.
[And this is for you, Kuchiki.]
By the way, I think I got all of them, Commander.
[With that, the Forge clicks off just as Shirley screeches in frustration.]
Like it's asking a question. Turning and rubbing against the Forge as it trills out a series of cries that sound like a child asking why.
Endlessly.
It's a pretty good question, and Lilly is asking herself the same thing - has been since about three o clock this morning when all of a sudden it began to dawn on her that forty six cats?
WHY INDEED.
All colors. All sizes. All over the goddamn apartment. Is that a cat going up the drapes? Yes! Is that another chasing it back down? Yes!
That is a cat preparing to pounce a near-full grown duck, too! If the duck (white, with red cresting around her beak and eyes, and grey spots reminiscent of fish scales) notices, it doesn't seem to matter because she is waddling through the cat crowd - making weak, little quack quack quacks.
But then, Shirley sweeps into the Forge's view and scoops the duck into her arms. For a lady that never seems ruffled, she sure does look distressed at the moment.]
Enough. You cannot keep them all!
[Behind Shirley, Lilly steps onto the sill and reaches toward the lone cat still perched precariously on the curtain rod - while another kitten stretches up on its hind legs to bat at the hem of her skirt. (Yes, she is not wearing pants and it isn't even a costume party.) Stepping down, cat under her arm, almost tripping to avoid the gray tiny that's still soveryinterested in her skirt. (And now her ankle!)-]
I really meant to stop after the fifth. And the tenth. I don't even know how this happened.
[And that's a pixie zooming by, for the record.]
I can't put them back outside, but-
[Headtilt. Peering at the screen. Aaaaand suddenly aware that this is broadcasting.]
-look, we're famous.
[For a long, long second, Shirley looks as thought she might throw the duck at Lilly. Then, she takes a deep breath and huffs.]
Wonderful. Perhaps someone will put the sense into you that I cannot.
[(You mad, Shirley?)
A sigh and a direct question for the viewers-
-well, as soon as she's able to nudge the next cat away from the screen. More catbutt? It's like cowbell. There can never be enough.
Actually, there can.]
I can't keep them all.
We can't keep them all.
I-
[This is when disaster strikes: one particularly thin cat launches himself from a chair and right onto Shirley's back - who screams and drops the duck, who proceeds to flap her wings and fly for Lilly's head. All while quacking in stress.]
Get rid of them!
[The poor cat, he didn't manage to keep on her back very long. The same cannot be said for the duck.
Today is a day for learning. Just as she's learned that it is not a good idea to shelter forty six cats under one (increasingly small seeming) roof, she is also learning that it is a difficult process to gently disentangle duck feet from her hair. Without stepping on the cats.]
Anyone got a place they need to rent? It looks like there's a cat shelter in Anatole's future. Just not in this apartment.
[And this is for you, Kuchiki.]
By the way, I think I got all of them, Commander.
[With that, the Forge clicks off just as Shirley screeches in frustration.]