Having A Talk

“I know what you’re going to say.” Dobby says.

“No you don’t.”

He paces in front of Writer Lady. “I do.”

“Dobby Kitty, I don’t even know what I want to say about this. How could you?”

“You have a sign running across your forehead. Bright red letters.”

“What?” is displayed on Writer Lady’s forehead just as the word escapes her lips. “Where’s a mirror?” appears.

A Cheval mirror appears in front of her.

“Really?!” is illuminated across her forehead. “OMG.” Writer Lady turns away from the mirror and calls to the hut’s ceiling. “TP...TP! Remove the sign!”

“No. TP’s still playing.”

Writer Lady’s shoulders slump forward. She thinks for a moment, stands taller, and says, “I know that you’re still playing but it’s time to stop for a little while.”

“No. TP’s having fun.”
“Isn’t play time better when everyone is having fun? Things would go a lot better if I didn’t have a sign on my forehead displaying all of my thoughts.”

“People understand you better like this.”

Writer Lady feels her patience slipping. “TP, do you like spending time at my house? If you want to continue visiting, remove this...now.” Writer Lady turns and looks at Dobby. The words “Sour Puss” are displayed on her forehead. Dobby laughs as the words disappear.

“Okay Mom. It’s gone.” Dobby says.

“Thank goodness for that.” Writer Lady finds a chair bigger than monkey size and sits down. “Now...what were you thinking?”

TP appears behind Writer Lady and floats forward into Dobby’s sight remaining just outside Writer Lady’s field of vision. The faerie spins around several times and reappears dressed as a “Mom” complete with apron, pearls, and June Cleaver hairstyle. He mimics her, waving a rolling pin for emphasis as Writer Lady speaks.

“What has Monitor Man ever done to you to make you want to kill him? Nothing. He’s your friend. We don’t go around killing our friends for sport. I didn’t raise you that way.”

Dobby looks from Writer Lady’s impassioned speech to TP’s Mother Cleaver impression and back again trying to look seriously at Writer Lady while enjoying the faerie’s antics.

“I know what you’re doing over there TP.”

The faerie stops and faces Writer Lady crossing his arms in front of him. He turns to face Dobby and holds up a sign that reads: No, She Doesn’t.

“Yes I do. Holding up a sign instead of open mimicry doesn’t make you any more quiet.”

TP mimics hitting something with his rolling pin.

“You two must really hate Monitor Man if you are kidnapping him and letting the kittens hunt him down.”

“No.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady continues her speech without acknowledging that the ginger tabby has spoken. “Monitor Man is our friend. We need to work together to resolve this problem. That’s it.”

Dobby approaches and looks into Writer Lady’s face. “No Mom, that’s not it. TP was bored. I was getting tired of the campaign stuff. It sounded like fun. We were just playing.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If you two were just playing why kidnap Monitor Man and transport him all the way to Faerie?”

Dobby looks at TP who slaps a hand to his forehead,runs it down his face, and crosses his eyes. Dobby smiles and says, “More play time.”

“More play time? That’s your explanation?” Writer Lady asks.

“Mom...you look a little angry.”

“Well let’s see..my home was invaded by pixies and an unplanned political campaign, then I end up not only in a different place but in a different dimension working to save Monitor Man, not to mention track you and the kittens down, and guess what? I still haven’t gotten any sleep.”

“Sleep deprivation is never a good thing young lady.” TP says as he waves an index finger about.

Writer Lady looks at TP, “I’m going to find something to squash you with if you don’t stop doing that.”

“Violence doesn’t work on him. You have to take away his toys.” Tinkletoes says as he enters the hut. The self-proclaimed mercenary is wet from the top down and walks with a limp. A piece of camo fabric hangs from his leg revealing bare skin.

“What happened to you?” Writer Lady asks.

“Crocodile?” He stops walking and thinks for a moment. “Gator...something scaly with really big teeth snuck up on me when I was at the riverbank.”

“This is a rainforest. What were you doing near the water?”

“When we dropped off the monkey and saw him safely to his tree he thanked us by throwing his crap at us. Him and a half dozen of his closest friends. One nailed me right between the eyes. We started on our way back when the panthers stopped for a bite to eat. I saw the water and decided to get cleaned up.

“You turned your back on two panthers?” Writer Lady asks.

“They had fresh kill. They were busy.”

“You let them kill a poor defenseless animal?”

“What was I supposed to do flick them on their noses and say, ‘Bad Kitty’? Anyway, it turns out that in Faerie, gators spend more time on the grass than in the water. Because it’s Faerie the things blend right in too.” He looks at Writer Lady and Dobby. “What is it we’re doin’ here?”

“What are they doing in there?” Monitor Man asks.

Smudge Mal and Spots Wash look at each other for a moment and turn back to Monitor Man.

“Food Provider is telling Dobby that he’s been a bad cat.” Spots Wash says.

“Dobby is arguing his side then waits a few minutes. Either Food Provider apologizes for her mistake or refuses to budge.” Smudge Mal says as he continues to answer. “If Food Provider refuses to budge then Dobby apologizes and blames everything on the faerie.”

“That’s not very nice.” Monitor Man points out.

“Dobby says that there’s tons of stuff that TP does that no one has a clue about. He figures that it all evens out.”

“Hmm...” Monitor Man says as he mulls the information over and gives the kittens a noncommittal nod. The actor looks down at the kittens who are sitting on a lower branch. The bubbles left them in a tree when Writer Lady requested that they be dropped off in a safe place. “Why do you call Writer Lady ‘Food Provider’ instead of calling her ‘Mom’ or ‘Writer Lady’?”

“She’s not our mom.” Smudge Mal says.

“We remember our mom. She is pretty, kind, warm, and has beautiful gray and white fur. She never...yells.”

“What is Food Provider to you?”

“Our kidnapper.” Smudge Mal says.

“She kidnapped us from our mother. She locked us up...inside, feeds us, and waits to dig around in our poop.” Spots Wash announces.

“We’re fairly sure that our poop must have some value that we aren’t aware of.” Smudge Mal says.

“Like the goose that laid the golden egg?” Monitor Man asks.

Both kittens nod.

“Our poop pays the light bill.” Spots Wash says with great seriousness.