When Three Stooges Volunteer

The house is quiet when Writer Lady sits down in the Big Writing Chair. It is finally writing day. The first one she has had to herself in a very long time. Opening a Gothic ghost story she started working on several months ago she gets back to work. She begins her session playing up details as Carp suggested earlier in the day. As she works on the story the night sky becomes darker and more cloudy. The lighting strikes during a storm are brighter. The romantic encounter between the brooding lord of the manor and the mysterious she ghost much more intense. When Writer Lady first delved into the world of (coughs) erotic stories she felt strongly that it was a genre she wanted to stay away from but on that particular day one self-proclaimed mercenary needed to be taught a valuable lesson. Although the lesson was over the story had taken on a life of its own.

 Today her eyebrows lift and she giggles to herself as she types. “I might have a gift for this," she mutters smiling to herself.

Writer Lady turns her head to find Smudge facing her. He is sitting in his most formal pose. The kitten with the large brown smudge painted across his nose looks at her expectantly. 

“Hi Smudgie.”

The kitten approaches taking a seat next to her feet and stares up her.

“You’ve already had breakfast.” Writer Lady points out as she continues typing. Feeling the pair of feline eyes have not yet moved she says, “Second breakfast has already been served as well.”

She tries to ignore the eyes boring into her skin and continues typing. Giving up the ghost, so to speak, Writer Lady turns and faces her visitor. “What is it kitty?” She asks as she reaches down to pet the kitten. Smudge comes closer and leans into her hand as he purrs. “You’re very affectionate.” She looks at the clock. “You’re usually napping by now. What’s going on?” She asks. Writer Lady begins looking and listening for anything that does not look or sound as it is supposed to. Living in a house with a cat, a pair of kittens, a baby dragon, another much larger dragon, with regular visits from gamers (one a self-proclaimed mercenary), a demon, and a mischievous faerie, along with other random magical beings in a house that has been enchanted, well, it takes a lot for something to be off in a place such as this one.

Smudge continues to purr. Closing his eyes, the kitten begins to drool. The air conditioning kicks on and he tenses in response.

“It’s okay kitty. Mom’s got you.” Writer Lady looks out the windows to check the sky and wonders if a storm is brewing somewhere just out of sight.

Boom.

Smudge wakes and leaves High Command quickly walking with his stomach low to the ground.

Boom.

“It wasn’t a need for attention but a desire to feel protected.” Writer Lady watches as the kitten makes his exit. She turns her head and listens. “That sounds like something is going on in the bonus room.”

Boom.Boom.Boom!

Heading for the bonus room, Writer Lady stops at the window and looks outside to find a pair of women standing at her door. 

 “Hello?”

“Are you Writer Lady?” The first woman asks.

“Yes.”

“The one with an orange tabby named Dobby?”

“I have a tabby named Dobby Cat.” Writer Lady looks at the women. Both seem pleasant enough but the second woman who she guesses in her eighties seems a bit tense. “Is something wrong? Did he bite somebody? He doesn’t usually do those things. I can assure you that he is up to date on all of his shots. I have the receipt from the vet’s office and the rabies tag. I know that he should be wearing it but I can’t seem to keep a collar on him. He really doesn’t like them.”

“No Baby. He didn’t hurt anyone.” The first woman says.

Writer Lady looks at the younger woman more closely. “Have we met before?”

“No but you’ve probably seen me. Tony Johnson, Window Weather Woman. I can look out the window and tell you what the weather’s gonna be.”

“You’re on television.”

She nods. “The station right here in town. CLUELESS.”

Writer Lady begins to say something.

“I know that those are not the call letters. It’s just my special name for them.”

“‘Cuse me.” The older woman says looking at Tony, “Are you gonna get to the point? Ever?”

“I believe that is what we’re doing here Ma’am.” Tony says. Turning back to Writer Lady she continues, “What is your cat doing today?”

“He's volunteering at the assisted living facility on the other side of town. Dobby was invited to act as an emotional support cat while some friends were helping out.”

“The three stooges?” The older woman asked.

“The friends are men and I have to admit they are a bit odd.”

“Odd?” The older woman glared Writer Lady. “Young lady, they are worse than odd. They’re goddamned heathens.”

Unsure of what do Writer Lady tries to get her visitor to take a step back from her anger. “I’m not sure we’ve met. My name is Writer Lady and you are?”

“Maeve, Maeve Dupree.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Dupree.”

“Nana. People call me Nana.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“No. We just want to know where your cat is?” Nana announced.

“He’s not here. He’s with the stooges?”

Nana looked at Tony. “We are not getting anywhere with this one.”

“I would be happy to help if you could just be a bit more specific regarding the nature of the problem.”

“Your friends came out to the assisted living facility today with reading materials for the residents which were appreciated. They stayed for a bit and even helped with the Bible study class. Nana was filling in for her neighbor today who has not been well. It seems changes were made to the text that was embarrassing for all.”

“Embarrassing is too gentle a word.”

“The class was taking turns reading out loud. It helps the residents keep their comprehension and elocution skills sharp. What the residents were reading..." Tony placed her hand to her chest,"...Miss Tony doesn’t judge. We all like to read something spicy once in a while but several families with children were walking down the hall and heard bits of it. There are several unhappy people in the lobby.”

“So you are suggesting…”

“That those stooges you call friends replaced bible verses with smut. Not just smut. Filthy smut.” Nana leaned in close. “I demand to know where those perverts are. NOW.”