Weekly Challenge #757 – KITTEN

Keyboard cat

RICHARD

Sex Kitten

Take my advice, and never marry a sex kitten.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a blast at first – the admiring glances and barely disguised jealousy of other men who can only dream of having what you do; the ill-concealed bitchiness of other women who wish they had her looks and style.

It’s great, but living with a sex kitten isn’t quite what it’s cracked up to be.

Frankly, the novelty of emptying her litter tray ever day has waned; and you never get used to seeing her hawking up a hairball on the carpet.

And sex?

One word – claws!

LIZZIE

I dream of you in colors that don’t exist. In sounds that are as silent as a forest full of life.
I dream of you sitting next to me, cloaked in shiny certainty, wrapped in playful energy.
I dream of you being you and jumping and running.
I whisper a thousand moments of you.
I whisper and smile, desperately trying to keep you here.
I breathe the past to escape the now. But you’re not here anymore.
And you’ll never be here again. Never again.
I have to let you go, don’t I?
I just have to let you go.

SERENDIPITY

I love my little kitten, he’s so cute and playful, a lovable ball of fluff and mischief.

I can’t imagine what I’d do without him and his mad antics.

And there’s you thinking I’m a horrible person, with no heart or feelings; no conscience or morals.

Just goes to show how wrong you can be.

It’s true that I’ve tortured, murdered and desecrated family, friends and strangers alike, but I’m not all bad. My lovely kitten means the world to me.

Best of all, there’s nothing better than a cute little kitten to lure unsuspecting children to a horrible end!

—

RICK

The Adversely Located Tom Cat Blues

Murray’s mama was a lap Kitty. Fluffy, well groomed, and sweet! One night she slipped out the back door and found passion in the back alley.

Murray was born two months later.

His siblings … sweet and cute …
like Mama …

… Murray was cut from different cloth.

Fierce, violent, aggressive …
back alley wild …
the way of the fang in claw!!!

Beast of the streets …
Baptized in blood …
Ferocity, savagery … coursed through his veins!

And yet, when the girl child gave him milk, scratched his neck … Murray would purr and purr

Murray hated that!!!

But … he lapped up the milk … and purred.

TOM

Cat Dharma

The kitten was not cute nor particularly pretty. It looks like an assembly of damp pipe cleaners. It was alone, scared and hungry. She or he had been dump at the end of the street and had made it to the safety of the back deck. We play a game of hide and seek, because if the kitten see me it will duck under the deck. I can’t just leave out cat food. The deer, raccoons, chicken, and woodpeckers would eat it first. So we play hide and seek at dawn and dusk. Sometimes the kitten wins, sometimes the deers.

NORVAL JOE

When Billbert didn’t respond, the two sunglass wearing agents moved a step closer.
“Come on, boy. Let’s go,” one of them said.
Before he could get up, Dergle Vander Hoont stepped in front of him and said, “He doesn’t have to go anywhere with you.”
One of the agents sneered. “Take your emotional support cat and get out of the way.”
Dergle was clearly offended. “This is no paltry kitten. This is the source of my super powers. The powers of the wiener dog.”
“Yeah, Right.” The man laughed. “More like you have the powers of the Christmas Fruit Cake.”

PLANET Z

BEWARE OF KITTY says the sign on the fence.
But I don’t own a cat.
I own a Rottweiler. And I named him KITTY.
All capital letters, too.
Because I shout KITTY a lot.
After words like SIT and STAY and KILL.
KITTY is usually well-behaved.
I stress the usually.
The postman started to carry mace, so I made goggles for KITTY to wear.
Then, the postman started to carry a gun, so I made KITTY a Kevlar vest.
I have a box at the Post Office now.
And never get coupons or political shit hung from my doorknob anymore.

First in class

Danny Krupman was the first in his class.
Danny was the first kid to get a bike.
He was also the first kid to get a cast.
He broke his arm when he fell off of the bike.
Danny was the first kid to get a dog.
The dog ran away. Nobody ever saw it again.
He was the first to grow a mustache, get a girlfriend, get a car.
And he was the first to get cancer.
We visited him in the hospital a few times.
Then, they said we shouldn’t.
I’m dating his girlfriend now.
Like my car?

The Living Shadow

The living shadow wanders the void between the stars, thinking nothing.
It exists just to wander, floating in the endless cold and dark.
No memory of where it came from, and no thought as to where it goes.
A week? A year? A century? A millennium?
It has no idea, and does not care.
There is nothing to see it, so it has no form.
There is nothing to hear it, so it makes no sound.
You might think that I’m telling a ghost story, imagining things.
But the living shadow is there, drifting in the vastness of empty space.

Death Eventually Comes

We don’t merely encounter death at the end of our lives.
He is everywhere at all times, watching and waiting.
All that lives will eventually die.
From the tiniest bacteria to the greatest fish in the sea, death comes for them all.
Rolling across the land and the waves and the sky, striking all down in a never-ending storm of destruction.
Some quickly, others slowly… and painfully.
None can escape Death’s unrelenting grasp.
Sometimes at night, I listen for death.
Instead, I hear the barking of the goddamned neighbor’s dog.
And I can’t wait for death to come for it.

The aroma

Every so often, the girls who stock the vending machines will remove all of the expired candy from the supply closet and leave it out on the table.
I obsessively sort it all out into baskets.
Considering my weight and my blood sugar, that’s as much as I should be doing with that stuff.
I love the aroma of it though.
So, every so often, I’ll put a Snickers bar on a warming plate and let the aroma fill the air.
I close my eyes and remember Halloween evenings, sorting out candy, years before I learned that I wasn’t immortal.

Before the accident

Before the accident, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
A brilliant actress, an amazing singer, and a spokesmodel for nearly every product and service.
What the paramedics pulled from the wreckage, doctors did their best to put back together.
It took over a year of surgeries, 3-D printer, and a little Hollywood magic to get her to walk again.
But she didn’t do much else.
She does voice work for cartoons and video games now, watching her radiant digital ghost shine with beauty.
And trying to hide the resentment and bitterness in her heavily-filtered voice.

Billy’s Revenge

Billy got beaten up a lot in school.
He begged his parents to do something.
They didn’t.
So, Billy tried to bring a knife to school.
The metal detectors caught it, and he got sent home.
That’s when Billy built the robotic exoskeleton in his basement.
“All ceramics,” said Billy, as he walked through the metal detectors cleanly.
Instead of Billy’s underwear ending up on the flagpole, the bullies ended up skewered on it.
Along with the teachers and principal.
The police stormed the school and killed Billy.
Which is for the best.
Because Reform School is even more brutal.

Weekly Challenge #756 – BOXER

Sofa hog

LIZZIE

Heal. The pain. Some pain. No… The darkness will stay for as long as I live, he thought. Fight for money, fight for food. Fight. Be nothing but a smashed up face everyone will have forgotten by tomorrow. Move on to the next town. Fight some more. The posters plastered all over. The money. The food. And onward he went. Town after town. They all looked alike. Until that day. Her kid, her dog, her smile. It’s complicated, she said. He didn’t think it was. It was actually quite simple. Heal. The pain. All of it. Just heal. And smile.

RICHARD

Integrity

My parents used to tell me to be true to myself, no matter what others think. A philosophy that they followed themselves.

We lived in a rough and uncompromising district, which made it tough for dad to indulge his passions for flower arranging and needlepoint, but he stayed true to himself, and oddly, the roughnecks in the neighbourhood gave him a wide berth.

I admired dad for sticking to his guns and to me it proved that even the toughest opposition will always respect integrity.

Although, on reflection, my mother’s reputation as a champion heavyweight boxer may have helped too.

TOM

Pretty Good Job

Nearly half a century ago I had the best joke a 20-something could have. When folk were making 3.50 I was pulling down 15.00 an hour. I worked in a natural food bakery packaging pastries: I was a boxer. We got paying 2 Cents a cookie. I could grab 20 cookies in a hand with one swing across a cookie parchment. The trick you learn when on piecework is never, I mean never tough a piece of paperwork. Anything remotely administrative is on a separate clock. When management push back we said ok put us back on the clock. Crickets.

SERENDIPIDY

You’re not really a proper serial killer until the press have seen fit to grant you a headline grabbing name.

But it’s hard to gain true notoriety anymore, because so many names, I’m sorry to say, are rather predictable.

It’s usually just a case of your location appended to your methodology… Like the Boston Strangler, Yorkshire Ripper and so on.

If I’d known I’d become famous, I’d have reconsidered my own methods.

The ‘Pondhaven Boxer’ is a crappy name.

It’s not because I punch my victims though.

It’s because I box up their remains and send them to the cops.

NORVAL JOE

A large man with a short black beard charged into the emergency room, and shouted, “Where’s Olive Oil?”
The squinky eyed sailor jumped up and bounced in place, his fists held up like a boxer.
A nurse appeard through double doors. “Linoliamanda?”
Her father escorted her to the nurse. He said to Billbert, “Don’t go anywhere. I’m not done with you, yet.”
As they dissappeared from view, two men in suits and dark glasses walked into the room and scanned the occupants. When their eyes fell on Billbert, they approached.
Without introduction they said, “Get up. You’re coming with us.”

RICK

Converted Southpaw

George was never gonna be the champ, but, he was a damn good boxer. Iron chin, decent uppercut, stiff jab, 4 or 5 combinations he could work righty or lefty.

George had a gimmick. A natural lefty, trained as a righty … A couple times a round George switched up …

Righty to lefty …
Lefty to righty …

Not just punching … footwork too!

While his opponent adjusted George had a tremendous advantage. He pounded them!

Beat them to a pulp!

His opponents bloody, bludgeoned body … motionless at his feet, face swollen, cut, bruised … it felt almost “erotic” …

… kinda “delicious”!

George couldn’t get enough.

PLANET Z

I loved playing Mike Tyson Punchout.
You’d progress through increasingly tougher and quirkier boxers until you ended up fighting Mike Tyson.
All it took was one punch and he’d knock your ass down.
And he’d knock your ass down a lot.
When I say you, I mean a scrappy little boxer, not Robin Givens.
Who’s she?
Mike Tyson knocked her ass down a lot, too.
I don’t play that many games anymore.
Arthritis. Bad stuff.
I do watch videos of gameplay on YouTube.
Let them pay for the game and put in the hours.
And I’ll ignore the commercial breaks.

The road to hell is paved with

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Lining it are trees watered by crocodile tears.
And under them, all the people you’ve ever wronged, they line up to watch you make your way to hell.
Some will scream at you.
Some will spit at you.
Some will pull stones up from the road and throw them at you.
I think back to all the people I’ve wronged.
That road’s going to be a long one.
And maybe if I wrong a few more people, that road will be so long, I’ll be walking that road forever.

Build a baby burger

Remember the Build A Bear stores in the malls?
You could pick out a bear skin, fill it with stuffing, and add clothing to make a bear.
Or a monkey. Or a kitty. Or other animals.
You could even add a sound recording that it could play.
Well, they’re expanded.
Now you can build a baby.
Spit into a tube, scan the DNA, and make a few changes…
Five minutes later, instant baby.
Just make sure that you don’t eat or drink anything before you spit.
A little bit of hamburger, and you’ve got a baby man-cow.
… and they’re delicious!