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Andy awoke to a foul stench, and a note. The note lay peacefully on the
perimeter of his desk; evidently he had slept the night in the study. His back had, let me see. 2…3..7 - 12 yes,
he counted at least 12 kinks in his back, and on passing the mirror he was also grotesquely mutated by a series
of crease marks on his face. The note was poorly written and was signed with a skull and crossbones - the note
declared the arrival of a new alter ego into Andy's life. And, no sooner had he created himself had he, tampered
with the the cat, pulled all the stuffing's out of the cushions and shoved them into the freezer, and stolen the
car.
"Here kitty, Andy's got dinner for you." The cat slunk into the hallway wearing pantyhose on each leg
and sporting a fetching handbag for a hat. "Oh dear, look what he has done to you, poor Kat. Oh my, look you've
even been given a makeover." Lipstick was crudely smeared across the cats face, and blue powder filled the
cat's ears. "I must say though, if we straighten you up a bit we could get you a lady friend in no time."
The cat gnawed his paw. Then sneezed.
How long was he Cavorting around the apartment cat? Ow, this one's a Meany.
Oh hell, what if he teams up with no. 16 that would be catastrophic. But I do remember 16 mentioning he was at
tennis camp all week, so that shouldn't be too much of a worry. But 12 has been a-wall for 2months now and he can't
be trusted either. Oh what am I to do cat? The cat had left the room 10 mins earlier. Now that I think about it,
I don't recall ever owning a cat, what bloody fuck. Where is that cat? Get the hell out of here cat wherever you
are! What do I care if no.28 molests the neighbors cat, actually I commend, him…Good show no. 28! I'm going back
to bed. Andrew sat on the corner of the bed, it collapsed under his weight and he slid roughly onto the ground
with possible carpet burn to his arm. Fucken Fuck. He lit an expensive cigar, and pondered his situation.
I should get my automobile back, that should be the first order of business. Then, time permitting, I should hit
the roulette tables in the south side of the city; concentrating my efforts on numbers 7-13 with all the currency
I can hit upon. Yes this is good plan. Andy, pleased with himself, lit up another cigar and decided to invite the
cat back in.
He opened the big heavy door to his apartment ever so slightly, and gazed at the polished floor boards not knowing
what to do next. There was not a decision to be made, Mrs. Burton from the down the hall was standing right there,
her arms crossed, and with the awful cat at her feet, still dressed up and looking rather silly.
Andy tried to avoid her gaze, zigzagging his head up and down the doorway, old Mrs.Burton have no trouble keeping
up with his not altogether great evasive technique.
"Stop that Mr. McLaughlin. We must talk. Now just take a look at my cat!" The old woman stamped her feet
on the polished floorboards, her garter slipping, and the cat possibly laughing.
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