Saturday Night Silliness -- Random Musings of a Writer Lady and Her Cat.

Dobby steps into the doorway and looks into the hall. “Okay Mom, it's clear. Let's go.” Dobby instructs, looking up at Mom. Dobby is still wearing the communicator on his left ear, but now there is a strange device over Dobby's right eye. His eye is no longer green. It has grown to become a big and bright red laser surrounded by shiny metal. He is also wearing two ammo belts crisscrossed over his torso and a hip holster with a Really Big Gun on one side and a whip on the other. “Dobby, what's with all the weaponry?” Mom asks. “Tinkletoes says a good soldier is prepared for all possible scenarios.” “An eye laser?” Mom asks. “When you are fighting aliens you use alien technology, Mom. What else?” “Where did you get it?” Mom asks. Dobby stands up on his back legs, grabs the Artistic License from Mom's hand and holds it up to her face. The ginger tabby then quickly folds his license and and tucks it into his holster belt. “Mom. Please.

--> “Mom!” Dobby calls to Mom from behind the bedroom door. “Dobby? Where are you?” “In here. The bedroom.” “Dobby kitty, what's wrong? Are those ear mites bothering you again?” Mom asks walking toward the bedroom door. “Get in here! Now!” A hand reaches out and pulls Mom into the bedroom and behind the door. Another hand covers her mouth. Dobby's face comes into sight through her peripheral vision. “Mom...It's okay he's with me. Promise to not to scream? Talk in a whisper?” Mom nods her head. “Dobby, who is this? What is going on?” “Did you give my cat money? Did you!?” Mom demands. “No Mom. This is Tinkletoes. He's a soldier.” Mom looks at Tinkletoes. Tinkletoes is about 6 ft. 2 inches tall with lots of muscles. Military hair cut and wearing an odd array of camouflage. Desert camo pants, white wife beater with a bullet proof vest and a green camo jacket. Tinkle is also wearing belts laden with guns and ammo. So much..

“Mom, what are you doing?” Dobby asks after entering the den. “Listening to music. I am thinking.” “What is that crap anyway?” Dobby asks. “Excuse me?” “This is country music.” Dobby sits quietly and listens for a moment. “Sorry Mom. I'm just not feeling it.” “I didn't turn on the music for your benefit.” Dobby looks at Mom. Correction, Dobby glares at Mom. Clears his throat. “I thought we established years ago that you do everything for my benefit. I am, after all, the CAT.” Mom looks at Dobby, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously?” Dobby blinks. “Seriously,” he says, stating the most basic of universal truths. “Dobby, sweetie...I do a lot for you because I love you not because the world revolves around you.” “ Your world revolves around me.” “No it doesn't” “Yes. It does.” “Nope. Sorry it doesn't.” Dobby jumps up on Mom's lap. Looks into her eyes. “I know you are waaay older than I am. You're alone. It

--> “Are you writing yet Mom? Because you should be writing?” Dobby walks around Mom's chair and looks at her in expectation. “Umm...yes...of course.” “Let me see.” Dobby jumps in Mom's lap and leans on the table to get a better look at the computer screen. “Did I mention how much better you look these days since you relaxed. The faerie dust is being absorbed into the atmosphere nicely. You aren't pink anymore. Your fur isn't lit up and pulsating. There is just a really faint shimmer. It's quite attractive. Really.” “Mom. This isn't your writing.” “What do you mean it isn't? Of course it is.” “If it is your writing you need to practice more. This stuff is all over the place. First it's about tweets then boots then a horoscope then a movie. It's really short and under six different names. Some of these aren't even girl names.” Dobby turns around, leans up against Mom's chest and looks into her eyes. “Ho