Last night at Casa Lesbo Godzilla finally
introduced her cat, Charles Nelson Milktoast, to the two other
resident felines (the ones with real claws) of the den.
Godzilla entered with Milky in a box. Behind the bars I could
see a quivering mass of furry jello, with eyes not unlike
those of Bambi in the headlights. Being the all-knowing cat
mother that she is, Godzilla thinks it'll be OK to let Milky
out of the box to play with Killer and Tank. Uh huh. Right.
I did the sensible thing and went into the kitchen to bake
a quiche. Tank, also being quite sensible, accompanied me.
Well, within seconds the inevitable hissing and cat screams
erupted. Killer had Milky cornered. Cat juice and fur were
flying everywhere! Barbie and Godzilla were also screaming,
too scared to get near the cats, for fear of having their
flannel damaged.
I suggested that they throw towels over the cats and then
break them up. Barbie thought that was a fabulous idea. She
went to the linen closet and returned with two face cloths.
I DON'T THINK SO! I recommended bigger towels. She said "Oh,
I thought you just wanted to cover their heads." A vision
quickly flashed through my head of Killer and Milky stung
up on nooses with hand towels over their heads like hoods.
Another vision came to mind, and I felt the need to share
it. I informed Barbie that this was not a bull fight, and
we really didn't want Milky's tail thrown to the crowd. It
would only stain the carpet. She replaced the towels.
At this point I should've once again done the sensible thing
and gone off to buy more eggs for my quiche, but I was so
caught up in the drama of it all that I opted to stay for
the show. Tank busied himself selling tickets to other neighborhood
cats.
"OK, now what do we do?" asked Barbie. "Well,
I think it would be a good idea to throw the towels over the
cats, honey. If you put it over your head it really wouldn't
do much good, and besides it would crunch your do!" "Shouldn't
we have a countdown or something?" "Jesus! Just
thrown the towels over the cats!" Barbie and Godzilla
did as they were told.
Unfortunately, both girls are terrible shots. You'd think
with all the sports that they're into they'd have better aim!!
Anyway, the towels went up and landed perfectly....between
the two cats. It was just the spark they needed. The fight
was on. There was fur flyin' and four pussys screaming! (I
of course still don't apply to this category. My first period
has not yet come to pass.) Tank and the boys cheered. Barbie
went screaming off to her dream shrine to light a candle for
Killer.
Godzilla moved in just like Marshall Dillon......."All
right! Break it up boys!" For a brief moment I was aroused.
OK, it was more than brief. Anyway, she grabbed Milky. Milky
trembled and peed. Killer jumped up and grabbed onto Milky.
Milky skitted away, leaving Killer clinging to one of Godzilla's
monstrous breasts, ripping her flannel! That was all she needed.
Godzilla clicked her spurs and whirled around. When she stopped,
she was Wonder Lesbo. She had claws of steel, Harley thighs,
and no lipstick. "Mess with my flannel, will ya?!"
She moved in on Killer faster than a dyke on tuna. With one
fell swoop Killer was in her grip, thrashing and twisting,
hissing and pissing. Killer hissed: "Yo' Bitch! Put me
down! Get in the kitchen and bake me some pie! You need to
respect my authoritae" This didn't scare Godzilla. She's
crushed whole cities with a single tampon. With her free hand
Godzilla wrapped Killer in a terrycloth cocoon. She flung
him into the basement, and locked him in for the night. Her
claws and thighs retracted to their original John Deerish
physique, and the show was over. "OK. There's nothing
to see. You can all go home now." Tanks crowd put down
their beers and left. Barbie returned from her dream shrine,
offering to serve milk and cookies. Tank meowed that they
didn't really go with beer, and went off to leave a deposit
at the local litter bank.
Milky meanwhile has disappeared. In the excitement of it
all, nobody noticed where he had gone once Wonder Lesbo appeared.
I suppose we'll find his withered carcass someday.......wedged
in between the clothes dryer and the wall.
And as for Killer, well.......he's still in that cocoon downstairs.
We're waiting to see if he emerges with wings one day, with
a new name and attitude. Mothzilla. All the powers of Godzilla,
plus wings. Tank's out getting the tickets printed as I type.
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