One Big Night--Revised

                            

“Mom? Mo—om!” Dobby calls walking through the hall and into the living room.

Finding Writer Lady stretched out on the couch, Dobby jumps up on to her chest and yowls. “MO-OM!”

“Yes kitty.” Writer Lady answers, “Move kitty, you're standing on my boobs.” She says squirming back and forth until the ginger tabby jumps up on to the back of the couch.

“You have to get up now Mom. It's time. Time for my party.” Dobby announces, stretching down to rub his head against hers.

Writer Lady checks her phone. “You're right. Let me get changed. It's getting late.” Writer Lady goes into the bedroom and comes back out in a t-shirt and jeans. She does a full turn. “So. How do you like it?” Silence. “Dobby?”

Dobby glares.

“You don't like it?”

“That shirt announces when you last number 2d” Dobby points out.

“Not classy enough huh?” Writer Lady asks. “Are you sure? I painted my nails and everything.”

“Dress. Put on a dress.”

Writer Lady pales considerably.

“You painted your toe nails without shaving your legs again didn't you Mom.”

“No I shaved my legs. Both of them.” Writer Lady announces proudly. “See?” She lifts a leg of her jeans to reveal a bare ankle, currently stubble free.

“Mom. Fo-cus. Put on a dress.”

“Okey dokey.” Writer Lady takes off running from the living room back into the bedroom.

Dobby takes out his recorder and starts talking. “Mom is extremely cooperative and malleable right after a nap.”

She returns in her ultra short British Flag dress.

“Not that one. Classy Mom. Classy.”

“But I like this one. It's fun and flippy.” Writer Lady argues.

“Mom please.”

“O-kay.” Writer Lady says. She returns to the bedroom head hanging. She returns wearing her other dress. “Okay?” she asks.

Dobby nods. “Stockings and shoes please.”

“But it's just us.” Writer Lady says.

“It won't be. Stockings and shoes.”

“No one will see my pretty toes.”

“Shoes.” Dobby reiterates.

Writer Lady starts to negotiate.

“Shoes.” Dobby repeats.

Writer Lady's mouth begins to open.

“Shoes, Mom. Shoes.”

Writer Lady heads back into the bedroom muttering.

“I can hear you.”

The door slams.

Dobby takes this time to explore the living room more closely. Things have been dusted and vacuumed. Looking out the big picture window, he finds nothing. The same yard no red carpet flowing up the walkway, no extra cars parked in the driveway, where are those bodyguards?

“Mom?” Dobby calls.

“Yes kitty.” She calls from the bedroom, I'll be right out.

“Are you going to decorate or is the caterer doing that too?”

“I decorated already can't you see it? I moved a bigger table into the living room it has this lovely cloth on it, I put out tapered red candles that are going to be lit , a pretty golden tray, streamers.”

“That's it?” Dobby asks.

“Besides the food? Pretty much. That hippie ran off with your catnip disco ball.”

“I know you aren't as good at classy as I am Mom. But didn't you research this? Weren't you listening? Because this isn't what I pictured. At all.”

“I know it isn't exactly what you wanted but when I got into the dollar store I just started getting ideas and things kind of got away from me there.” Writer Lady confesses.

“The dollar store. You decorated for the most important night of my life with stuff from the dollar store?”

Dobby runs his paw down his face. “She's a disaster. A walking, talking disaster.”

Ray walks into the kitchen. Shopping bags in hand. “Dobby.”

“How did you get in the house?” Dobby asks.

“Tinkletoes showed me how to pick the lock.” Ray says.

Dobby glares at Ray.

“He showed me where Writer Lady hides the extra key.” Ray says, looking at the floor.

“Do you have anything good in there? Milk, cheese, catnip?” Dobby asks jumping up on to the counter and sticking his head into the bag.

“Sorry Dude. None of that.”

Confirming there is no milk or catnip Dobby removes his head from the bag.

“I have some hard salami, crackers, pickles, potato chips and my personal favorite –chocolate. There might be dip in here some where too. I can't remember. I bring my own snacks to parties. I hit them pretty hard so I like to help out. I kind of have an eating problem.”

Dobby stares waiting for Ray to stop talking.

“I can't stop. I just eat and eat. It's all so good. You know?”

Ray finally stops talking.

“When is everyone getting here?” Dobby asks.

“What?” Ray asks. “Hey man. How are you Dobby? Long time no see.”

Dobby leaves the kitchen and heads back into the living room finding a spot on the couch. “I just don't understand. This was my big night and nothing is happening. Why?”

“Dude. There is an ice storm coming. No sane person is going out.”

“Why are you here?” Dobby asks.

Ray cocks his head to one side and thinks. “Free food man. I love to eat.”

“You brought it with you.” Dobby points out.

“I did. Didn't I?” Ray says. “I rock.”

The living room grows quiet except for the sound of a random home improvement show playing the background.

“I've seen this one before Dobby. The coolest part of it is, they get the really cool TV they wanted. The couple doesn't know they are getting the TV.”

“That happens in all of them. The homeowner gets something they really wanted at the last possible second. They want us to be surprised.”

“Dude...you ruined it for me.” Ray gets up out of the chair and heads back into the kitchen. He meets Tinkletoes, TP, Carp and several others in the kitchen.

“Ray! Glad you could make it man.” Tinkletoes says.

“It was fun.” Ray says sadly.

“Was fun?”

“Was. That cat friend of yours just ruined something very special for me.”

“What?” Tinkletoes asks.

Ray cocks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. “Tink! Dude! Long time no see man.”

“I know. Come on into the living room. Let's get this party started.” Tinkletoes says, carrying in his PS4 gaming system.

“Okay.” Ray says, following Tinkletoes.

“Come on Dobby. Get your furry butt up off the couch. Let's play some games.” Tinkletoes says.

“I don't wanna.” Dobby sits up, stretches, turns his body around so he is facing the other direction and goes back to sleep.

Tinkletoes continues disconnecting Dobby's gaming system and replaces it with the PS4.

“Come on Dobby. I want you to meet Carp. He has carpal tunnel and gets really mad when it makes him screw up a move. It's really funny.”

“Assasin's Creed. We are playing Assasin's Creed. I must learn.” Carp says.

“Dude. We're playing Need For Speed. I have a need man.” Ray argues.

“Don't tell me about your needs. Your needs are creepy.” Carp says.

“Sorry guys. We aren't playing either one first. Tonight is Dobby's night. I have a special program just for him.” Tinkletoes announces.

Dobby looks up. “You made me a devilishly handsome adventurer in a game didn't you? Dobby Cat Apostos Invades the Temple of Gloom. I'll go get my whip.” Dobby says jumping down from the couch.

“It's not that kind of game. I think you'll like it though. It's kind of a sci-fi thing. Dobby you design your own planet, cities, characters and adventures. You do it all. Right down to the food for sale in the marketplace. A buddy of mine wrote it. We set it up with a city you might like until you learn how it works and everything. Go ahead.”

Dobby makes his way over to the controller and taps a button with the tip of his tail. A vibrant lush green city fills the screen. “Is this what I think it is?” Dobby asks.

“Yeah. Catnip. The whole planet is made of catnip. Take that route in to the city.” Tinkletoes instructs. “See Dobby. The buildings are catnip. The marketplace is full of catnip. Even the streets are catnip. See that?” Tinkletoes asks pointing to the far left side of the screen.

“Another feline.”

“A female.” Tinkletoes says.

“A hot one.” Dobby says.

“Over there.” Tinkletoes points to the right side of the screen.

“Another female made out of...catnip.”

“You'd be getting your nip and eating it too. Dude.” Ray says.

Tinkletoes glares at Ray.

99 Posts of this Blog On The Wall

“He has his own baby dragon to play with.” Writer Lady repeats, looking at Tinkletoes and TP. “Dylan's right. How many cats are not only named after a character in a book but have a character in a book patterned after them?”

“Yes, Writer Lady, that could work.” TP agrees rubbing his chin.

“I don't like it. It's too soft.” Tinkletoes says.

“You don't like anything that isn't your idea do you?” Writer Lady asks.

Tinkletoes starts to argue, stops and thinks. He opens his mouth to speak, gets a confused look on his face and shuts it again. “I'm going to come up with something for next week. When I do you'll be the one standing here, looking foolish,” he stalks out of the house slamming the door.

The next day, Writer Lady is sitting at the computer in High Command when Dobby enters the room.

“So um...Mom? I've been thinking.” Dobby says.

“Yes kitty.”

“With next week being the 100^th post and everything. I was wondering...”

“Wondering what?” Writer Lady asks not stopping to look away from the monitor.

“If we can do some special things. I have a list.” Dobby jumps up on to the desk, pulls a sheet of paper up and sits it in front of Writer Lady's monitor.

“Now?” Writer Lady asks, leaning in to read. “Tuna steaks with catnip,  champagne on ice, popcorn with butter, freshly dipped chocolates. Fancy cupcakes. Why?”

“For our 100^th post. We must par-tay.”

“I would like very much to “par-tay” but are six bodyguards necessary?”

“The women love me. What can I say?”

“No?” Writer Lady continues reading. “You want a venue? Why do you need a venue? We always write here at home.”

“There are going to be lots more people.” Dobby announces.

“Really? How many more are you expecting?”

“100. At least.”

“100 people?” Writer Lady asks.

“At least.” Dobby reiterates.

“Where are these 100 people going to come from?”

“Oh...um...all over. I'm a really cool cat.”

“There is no question in my mind you are cool. The shining star of my heart. I just don't know where you are going to find so many other people who feel the same way.”

“I will. Mom. Don't worry about that. You have a lot of other stuff to do. Keep reading.”

“You will be wearing the various costumes showcased in the first 100 posts. There is supposed to be a musical montage dedicated to you and your antics. You want a red carpet? Live tweeting?” Writer Lady stops reading and announces to Dobby. “Kitty this is a 100^th post celebration not an awards show.”

“Keep reading.” Dobby says.

“There will an award to the house cat who most embodies the playfulness, intelligence and purrsonality of our own beloved Dobby?”

“I'm calling it the Furball.” Dobby says, rolling a ball of his hair along the desk so Writer Lady can see it.

“Why can't we just do it here at the house?”

Dobby pulls the first page down leaving another list in Writer Lady's field of vision.

“The people on this list are actors and entertainers. Dobby, I don't think the President of the United States is available to give you a Lifetime Achievement Award.”

“I have this all worked out.” Dobby says.

“Okay. I have some questions. Who is going to set up the venue with seating, decorations and the food?” Writer Lady asks.

“We'll hire a caterer.” Dobby says producing a stack of catering brochures.

Writer Lady starts glancing at the information. “This sounds like a big deal. How are we going to pay the caterer?”

“Sponsors.”

“Sponsors? How are we going to get these sponsors? How will we sell their products?”

“We are going to televise.” Dobby says.

“Televise?”

“Who is going to watch a televised celebration for the 100^th post of a blog about a woman, a fantastically lovable cat and his friends as well as the fictional characters that have some how come to life in their house?”

“That's where the 'guests' come in.” Dobby answers.

“Oh you mean...the entertainers and actors in the audience?”

“Viewers will tune in to see them. They will get curious about me. I'll trend. They'll find the blog. In one stupendous night I will be famous.” The air grows heavy, standing up, Dobby's shadow enlarges to an alarming size, his deepened voice bellows, “MWAAHAHAHAAAAA.”

“Well. That was disturbing.” Writer Lady mumbles.

The air in the room loses weight and a light harmonic melody begins to play in the background reminding us of a simpler time. Hot dogs, baseball, apple pie and the comforting knowledge that no matter how wonderful dinner was there is always room for Jell-o. “Come on Mom. I'm Me! I'm amazing. You have never met another cat like me. I'm completely lovable.” Dobby says. “That's what the people want a lovable character.”

“That's true.” Writer Lady admits. “Kitty, I'm afraid you just aren't there yet. I wish you would stop pushing for something so big. You don't get to enjoy the simple things in life that way.”

“Yeah.” Dobby groans, lowering his head.

“Seriously kitty. Let's just sit together and enjoy a hot cup of tea. The quiet of a winter evening. Our impending accomplishment. I never thought we would continue this blog to 100 posts. Did you?”

Thinking for a moment, “I never thought you could stay focused this long Mom. It is truly amazing.” Dobby says with gravity.

Well Hello Dobby

“Do you mind if we get back to what's important now?” Dobby asks.

Everyone looks at Dobby.

“ME!”

Tinkletoes and Writer Lady look back at each other, then look back at Dobby.

“Of course.”

“Don't worry about the Action Hero thing not working I've got tons of ideas.”

This time another throat clears. TP is floating next to Tinkletoes wearing his director's clothes, complete with expensive sunglasses and a bullhorn. Setting the bullhorn down on a table, TP flies over to Dobby and floats back and forth in front of his new “star.”

“No. No. NO...” TP says shaking his finger. The faerie paces back and forth in front of the leather clad ginger tabby. “This is not right at all. This is what happens when you have no respect for the art that is film making. Dobby was endorsed by the Gem of the Con. That is class. Felines are clean, cunning and chic. We have to show the world this amazing example of impeccable feline style. We need...Armani.” TP snaps his fingers. There is a rumble and large puff of smoke encases Dobby. When the smoke clears the leathers from the action hero costume have been replaced with a fitted black suit. The creases in the pants are defined. The tie—narrow bordering on skinny. “Turn around.” TP orders. Dobby rotates. The suit fits beautifully. The pants altered to accommodate Dobby's tail. The black fabric dramatically opposite to his orange fur.

“Wow.” Writer Lady says.

“He looks like a Halloween decoration.” Tinkletoes says unimpressed.

TP coughs and glares at Tinkletoes. The room quiets.

“You are classic my good cat and we will present you in this way. What is more classic than Broadway?” TP waves his arms and a stage appears along the living room wall. The floor glows with a high polish. The red of the curtains is striking against the shimmer of the floor. “Dobby, if you will take the stage.”

Dobby carefully makes his way up the stairs, stands center stage and waits. “I would like you to sing and dance for me.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea? His yowling is highly annoying.” Writer Lady asks.

“Shhhh!”

Tinkletoes laughs from the spot he has taken on the couch. Writer Lady glares at him sitting down on the other end. Tinkletoes coughs lightly and turns his attention back to the stage.

“You will need musical accompaniment.” TP flutters up and flies into High Command. When he returns Incognito is following. The clone warrior's gun has been replaced with a trumpet. “Right up there on stage young man. To Dobby's left.” TP turns around to face his audience. “The song I have chosen is universally enjoyed by music lovers of all types all over the world. I have modified it to showcase our star. We will give the world our own personal “earworm.” Everyone will be looking for our favorite cat when I am done.”

Returning his attention to the stage, “ On three. One...two...three!” TP snaps his fingers, Incognito starts playing the intro. Soon Dobby is singing.”

“Hello Dobby. Well Hello Dobby. It's so nice to have you back where you belong. You're looking swell Dobby.”

“Swell?” Tinkletoes says. “No one even uses that word anymore.”

“I can tell Dobby.”

“Now just start dancing.” TP says. “A little Soft Paw.” Dobby complies with the elegance only a cat possesses.

“You're still glowin'...you're still crowin'...you're still goin' strong.”

TP pulls a dance cane out of thin air and tosses it to Dobby. Dobby catches it without missing a beat.

“I feel the room swayin'....while the band's playin'. One of your old favorite songs from way back when.”

“Now. Prance! Lift those feet up high.” TP says.

“Oh no.” Tinkletoes says running his hand down his face. “This is just wrong.”

“So take his wrap fellas. Someone find him a lap fellas.”

“Cut!” Tinkletoes says standing and walking towards the stage.

“No cut!” TP says.

“Cut.” Tinkletoes makes it to the stage. Dobby and Incognito stop.

“No cut!” TP says using his bullhorn. “Uncut. Keep going.”

“You don't have to do this Dobby.” Tinkletoes says.

“What is going on in here?” Aunt Purdy asks entering the living room with Furnatche and the kids in tow.

“They were making Dobby a star and now they are fighting about the details.” Writer Lady says. "I'll give you specifics later."

“Yes he does.” TP says.

“No he doesn't.” Tinkletoes says.

“If he wants to be famous he does.” TP counters.

“This is not the only way.” Tinkletoes says.

“It's MY way!” TP exclaims. The faerie's body is bright red with anger. The mercenary and faerie are now nose to nose.

“You're making him look like a pussy.” Tinkletoes says.

A sharp intake of breath has been hear from the far side of the living room. They look up to see Aunt Purdy pale. She and Writer Lady are covering as many children's ears as they can.

“TP, Tinkletoes? Could you hold the conversation for just a second?” Writer Lady asks. She uncovers Dylan's ears, stands up and makes her way over to the stage with Furnatche following close behind. The minute the baby dragon sees the steps he climbs them following the scent left on them to Dobby.

“I let you both have some fun but this is becoming a problem. You tried the Action Hero thing he isn't in shape for that.” Writer Lady says, holding her left hand out several inches from the left side. “You tried the musical route which is at the other end of the spectrum.” Writer Lady says holding her right hand out to the right side. “How about something in the middle?”

"I know." Tinkletoes says, “Singing Zombies. Let's re-make Thriller.”

“Shakespeare?” TP offers.

“What is completely unique to our Dobby cat? What does he have that no other cat has?”

Writer Lady, Tinkletoes and TP all look at Dobby. The ginger tabby is standing on stage watching Furnatche get his belly rubbed by Incognito.

“A baby dragon.” Dylan had wandered over to where Writer Lady was. “Dobby has a baby dragon to play with.”

Shots Were Fired

Tinkletoes, TP and Dobby sneak in the back door and hide in the utility closet.

There is knocking at the door.

Writer Lady opens it to find the police. “Yes.”

“Hello Ma'am. My name is Officer Silverfish and this is Officer Smelt. We have had some complaints this evening about shots being fired from this address.”

“Really?” Writer Lady asks. “That's odd.”

“Do you live here?” Officer Smelt asks.

“Yes I do.”

“Is there anyone else living here at this residence?” Officer Silverfish asks.

“No it's just me. Me and my cat.”

“Husband? Children?” Officer Smelt asks.

“No just me and my cat.”

“Do you have some identification?” Officer Smelt asks.

“Yes. I'll go get my wallet. Wait right here.” Writer Lady says leaving the room. She returns with her wallet and shows them her driver's license. Officer Silverfish checks it.

“Is your firearm licensed? Do you have your gun card with you?” Officer Smelt asks.

“I don't have any firearms.”

“All due respect ma'am shots were fired tonight from this address.”

“I am telling you with certainty. It was not me.”

“Is that so?” Officer Smelt asks challenging Writer Lady's statement. He takes out his notepad.

“For the last several months, let me rephrase that. The entire time you have been living in this house your neighbors have noticed unusual goings on.”

“Do you have examples?” Writer Lady asks.

“Well the shots being fired.”

“And?”

“Strange people have been seen “slinking” around in the shadows.”

“Do you have a description?”

“Male, approx 6' 2” eyes of blue? Usually dressed in camo, carries ammo bag, sometimes leaves with pastry boxes. Comes over and leaves at all hours of the day and night. Sometimes even on Sunday.” Officer Smelt announces with condescension.

Officer Silverfish leans towards his fellow officer and says, “That's Tinkletoes.”

“Tink? Nobody told me he was home.” Officer Smelt exclaims.

“I thought you knew. He's been back for over a year now.”

“I can't believe he made it back and hasn't called me yet. Have the gaming nights started up again yet? Do you know?”

“Oh yeah. His first week back. You know Tink. He couldn't wait to get that started again. We all tried to get together online when he was at base camp but the Internet connections were always overloaded. According to Tinkletoes the officers were hogging it.”

“No...” Officer Smelt exclaims.

“You'll never guess with what? Farmville.” Officer Silverfish says sharing his intel.

“Wow. You think smart people like that would at least be playing Grand Theft Auto or World of Warcraft.” Officer Smelts says.

“Maybe learn something.” Officer Silverfish offers.

“I'm guessing you two didn't enlist?” Writer Lady asked.

“No. I couldn't pass the physical.” Officer Silverfish answers. “I'm a little long in the tooth.”

“At least you passed the written.” Officer Smelts says.

“I'm sure you just missed by the skin of your teeth. You catch on really quick.” Officer Silverfish says reassuring the younger officer.

“No actually.” Officer Smelts says blushing a little.

“Pssst. Psssst!” Writer Lady turns to see Tinkletoes, TP and Dobby in the doorway of the darkened add on room. Tinkletoes is holding up a glow-in-the-dark sign.

GET THEM OUT OF HERE

“If you two will excuse me for a minute. I hear Dobby crying. He gets scared when strange people are here.”

The officers continue talking oblivious to Writer Lady's presence.

Writer Lady tiptoes into the add on room, “It's okay kitty. Don't be scared.” She continues into the darkness until she is out of the officers' sight.

“What do you mean get rid of them? They're your friends.” Writer Lady says getting into Tinkletoes' space.

“No. That's Smelts. Nobody likes Smelts.”

“What about the other one?” Writer Lady asks.

“Silverfish?”

Writer Lady waits for an answer.

“He's okay but he knows I don't like Smelts.” 
Writer Lady is still waiting. 
 “It's a guy thing, okay?”

Unimpressed with Tinkletoes' explanation Writer Lady evaluates her situation. “Fine!” Turning on her heel she returns to the living room.

“You know I bet they're a couple.” Officer Silverfish whispers to Officer Smelts just as Writer Lady returns.

“It sounds like you all have a lot of catching up to do. I won't keep you.”

“Of course. Anything for Tinks' girl.” Officer Smelts gushes, turning to leave.

“Sorry to bother you ma'am. I'll make sure the neighbors know they have nothing to worry about. Tinkletoes does things a little bit different we all understand.” Office Silverfish says following Smelts out the front door. “Don't worry we'll be discreet.”

Writer Lady's neighbors had gathered along the outer perimeter of her yard waiting to see the result of their careful record keeping.

“It's Okay Folks! It's just Tinkletoes! This is his girl!” Officer Smelts announces after retrieving a bullhorn from the trunk of his police cruiser.

The crowd nods, uttering words of understanding, relief and sympathy depending on how they felt about him. Within minutes everyone was gone. Writer Lady plops down on to her couch with a tired sigh and closes both eyes.

“Are they gone?” Tinkletoes asks standing over her.

“You're the soldier, you tell me.” She responds without opening her eyes.

Taking a quick look through the windows, “Yes. You cleared them out quick. That was a great idea too. Telling them I'm your boyfriend.”

Jumping up off the couch, “You! Are NOT my boyfriend!” Writer Lady says poking him in the chest with her finger.

Tinkletoes pales a little, surprised at the tone of her outburst. “Everyone seems to think so. I'm here all the time.”

“You come over and play video games with the cat. Take my baked goods under false pretenses. You don't talk to me unless you have to. Boyfriends don't do that.” Writer Lady says stepping back.

“You're right. I never should have done those things.” Tinkletoes says quietly. 

Writer Lady looks at him with her mouth gaping.

TP flies over to Tinkletoes and starts whispering with urgency. Tinkletoes nods a lot. “I'm sorry you have been labeled my um...girlfriend. If it's alright with you I won't say anything for a couple of days. On the next gaming night I'll tell everyone about the misunderstanding.”

Writer Lady nods her agreement.

Dobby sits in the middle of the living room and clears his throat loudly.

Action Hero Blues

Dobby Cat morphs, transforms and changes in front of Writer Lady's and Tinkletoes' eyes. TP's magic is something amazing. Dobby goes from a typical ginger tabby to a powerfully built Action Hero. He struts past the back of the Big Writing Chair to the center of High Command and strikes a masculine pose for Writer Lady. He appears robust and virile to all who gaze upon him.

“Well that was easy.” Tinkletoes says, patting Dobby on the back. “You have great genes kitty. Good job.”

Dobby lets out a breath and...ping! The snap on his leather pants flies off and goes right through the window. The pants are relieved of their burden and Dobby's belly spills out over the top of the leather. Our hero pulls up his pants and retreats to the bathroom. He might be blushing but he is orange so it's hard to tell.

Writer Lady tries to stifle her laughter. “I told you he was in no shape for this.”

“It's fine. We just have to modify the costume. Dobby is stockier than anticipated.” Tinkletoes says defending his choice.

“He's out of shape.” Writer Lady counters.

“He's husky.”

“He's fat.” Writer Lady says finishing the argument.

“This is just a set back. We'll fix it.” Tinkletoes says looking at TP.
The faerie snaps his fingers and a tiny tool box appears in his hand. With the second snap the faerie is wearing a t-shirt that says:

TP. Professional Faerie At Work. I've Got Your Back Side.

TP makes his way in to the bathroom.

Writer Lady returns to her scribbling as she and Tinkletoes wait to see the solution TP comes up with. Tinkletoes keeps himself busy by examining the hole in the window. He raises the blind. He sticks his finger through the hole.

“It's a perfect hole. It goes through both the window and the screen. Do you have any idea how much pressure it takes to do that without shattering the entire window?” He asks.

“Probably something similar to a bullet being fired by a gun.” Writer Lady says without looking up from her pad of paper. “But I'm just a girl. What do I know.”

TP enters High Command flying in reverse. He is waving his hands as if aiding a large truck as it reverses.

Dobby enters the room slowly with his head down still embarrassed.

Tinkletoes smiles with encouragement. TP flies up to Tinkletoes' ear to give him an update. Tinkletoes nods a lot.

Writer Lady takes a minute to sneak a peek at their repair work. The snap had been reattached with a piece of wire. They had compensated for the cat's girth using a rubber band. The old 'I'm not ready for maternity clothes yet. These jeans still fit' repair. Interesting. Writer Lady scratches Dobby's ear affectionately and returns to her seat.

“Okay Dobby. I have a camera. So what we're gonna do now is take some action footage. It will get you exposure a lot more quickly than just a head shot.” Tinkletoes says. “I think we'll start in the bedroom. TP is going to be a thug. He will threaten you with a gun. Quick as lightning, I want you to jump up, run across the bed and chase him out of the room jumping off the bed and following him out of the room close behind. I'm going to lay on the floor. When you jump off the bed, jump over me and the camera. It'll be a great shot.”

Writer Lady decides to stay in High Command. Listening can be just as fun as watching. She hears Tinkletoes say, “Okay. On action...one, two and ac-tion!” There is rustling then a loud Ping!, a scream from Tinkletoes. “Okay.” Tinkletoes whispers. “cut...”

Writer Lady goes into the bedroom to see what happened. Tinkletoes is laying on the floor. There is a distinct round mark on his forehead. A bright red one.

“Rubber band snapped huh?” Writer Lady asks.

Tinkletoes stays where he is. Waiting for the humiliation to be over.

Writer Lady looks around for the rubber band's remains. She spots them on the fly of the mercenary's camos. “You...um...weren't planning on having kids some day were you?” she asks.

“Ice. Please?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Stay here.” Writer Lady says, gentling her tone. By the time she returns with two ice packs, Tinkletoes is sitting up with his back against the wall. She hands him one and steps over his legs to put the other ice pack against his forehead.

“Thanks.” He grumbles.

“I was kind of mean earlier, with the jokes. I owe you one.”

TP comes into the bedroom and whispers to Tinkletoes. Tinkletoes nods. “Okay.”
 The faerie leaves the room.

“TP fixed the problem. He put Dobby in larger pants. Dobby doesn't have enough...butt. TP said he fixed that though.” Tinkletoes announces. “Okay come on in guys.”

Dobby comes back into the bedroom. He looks um...well rounded. Our furry action hero has two perfectly round buttocks pushing against the leather pants.

“Oh my goodness...” Writer Lady says covering her mouth. She averts her eyes. “I'm just going to go do some scribbling,” She says pointing to High Command.

Tinkletoes looks at the footage taken earlier. “Okay guys what I did earlier looks good. I think we'll try something with the whip now. Let's go out into the front yard. It's dark out. No one will see.” Our hero and his agents go out to the front yard to take more footage. “Okay Dobby. I need you to pull the whip from your belt. Release the tail, let it snap and bring it down to the ground. This is really cool looking. The snapping sound is a terrific effect. Same direction as before. One...two...AC-TION.”

Dobby reaches down, lifting the rolled up whip from his belt, releases the coiled leather raising his paw high. The tail of the whip flourishes back dramatically, snapping the back of the ginger tabby's pants. The POP is a sound like none other heard in Writer Lady's neighborhood---EVER.

Lights start to turn on all over the neighborhood.

“Down Now.” Tinkletoes says. The three slink around to the back yard.

Dobby Cat Apostos--Action Hero?

    Dedicated to Xavier (Booger) White (9) who asked if Dobby could ever be an Action Hero.

 Writer Lady sits at her computer merrily typing away. Dobby enters the room slowly. He is uneasy but this is important. It's time they talked.

“Mom?”

“Oh Dobby. There you are. Look. See I'm writing already! No wasting time on FB.  No skulking around on Twitter.” Writer Lady turns to look down at the ginger tabby and smiles proudly.

“That's great Mom.”

“Do you remember last week?”

“Yeah.”

“You spent three nights hanging out on the couch?”

“I do remember. It was so cold and you snuggled. On Purpose!”

“You laid around watching TV, practicing other writing, reading.” Dobby says. “When you could have been online making me famous.”

“Dobby kitty, I told you these things take time. You have to earn that kind of admiration. You have to practice and work for it. You have to work very hard.” Writer Lady answers.

“But I have the Gem of the Con's endorsement.”

“Endorsements aren't enough.”

“I disagree.” Dobby says.

“It isn't the destination. It's the journey that's important.” Writer Lady says quoting somebody.

“I know. I also know how you love your affirmations. I love people. I need my people and they need me. What you do just isn't cutting it Mom.”

“Do you think you can do better?” Writer Lady asks.

“Yeah I do.”

Writer Lady stops typing and looks down at Dobby stunned.

“I got some help. Fresh eyes. They are convinced I can be a really big deal before the end of the month.”

“You got new people?” Writer Lady asks.

“Yeah Mom I did.” Dobby says looking down in embarrassment.

Writer Lady pauses a moment. “Okay, that's great. It gives me more time to write. I love that.”

“Actually Mom that's what I wanted to talk to you about.” Dobby says. “We need your workspace to make me famous.”

Writer Lady takes in the new information. “So let me see if I'm understanding what you have to say. You not only got new people but now you want to kick me out of my space?”

“Thanks Dobby's Mom. We knew you'd understand.” Tinkletoes says entering High Command. TP follows flying in behind Tinkletoes' left shoulder.

“Seriously? These two are better equipped at making you a Very Important Feline?”

“Yeah.”

Tinkletoes feeling very proud of himself, “See it's like this. TP knows how to spread the word all over about Dobby. I know how to make him look even better than he already does. You know classy.”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes in his cammo everything, ammunitions belts complete with bullets and knives hanging off of them, “You can make Dobby look 'classy'?” She asks.

“Don't worry my dear sweet Writer Lady I will not let the barbarian ruin all that we have worked for.” TP reassures.

“Barbarian? Who you calling a barbarian? Barbarians are uncivilized and dirty. They don't even wear cammo. I'm not a barbarian.” Tinkletoes argues.

“You aren't exactly invited to tea with the Queen either now are you?” TP asks.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Tinkletoes says leaning in close to the faerie. His face is red.

“You don't know?” TP asks.

“Ladies, please.” Writer Lady says as Dobby rolls his eyes. “Let's all be friends here.” Writer Lady closes all of her tabs and gets up out of the Big Writing Chair, quickly grabbing her pad and pen. Taking a seat on the blanket chest she settles in for the fun ahead. “Okay. I'm out of the way. Take my seat and make my Dobby Cat a star.” She sits back and starts scribbling.

Tinkletoes sits down in the 'Not so big to him' Writing Chair, making adjustments and getting settled in. TP lands on top of the desk and finds a seat on the electric stapler. The faerie notices he can't see the computer screen and finds a new seat on the edge of Writer Lady's abandoned mug.

   Tinkletoes begins the meeting of the minds.  “Okay Dobby. The way to get lots of attention really fast is to be an action hero. That's the way we need to market you. You will be the action hero of house cats.” 

Writer Lady hears this and her head pops up. Noticing the panicked look on her face TP puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head. The faerie knows Dobby as an action hero just isn't going to happen.

“An action hero. The females love a good action hero. I like it.” Dobby says.

“I knew you would kitty.” Tinkletoes replies. “Since I'm in good shape and Carp is getting in really good shape too, if we market you as an action hero we'll hang out with you. You will have your own posse right from the beginning.”

“Posse?” TP asks.

“What?” Tinkletoes asks.

“It's an “entourage” now,” TP says.

“But posse is so much more dangerous sounding.” Tinkletoes argues.

“Which is probably why they changed it.” Writer Lady says from her spot across the room.

Three heads turn and glare at Writer Lady, she looks down at the pad and concentrates on her scribbling. “Just say-in'” she mutters under her breath.

“First you need a costume. I was thinking of something like this."  A picture appears on the monitor of a muscle bound hero in black leather pants and heavy black boots. No shirt. "In sub-zero weather you'll wear a black leather duster. A shiny one.”

“I like that idea.” Dobby says. “Is there a hat? I like hats.”

“I was thinking you could wear hats when you are disguising yourself. So you won't be so easy to spot.”

“No one is going to notice a bright orange cat stuffed into black leather pants.” Writer Lady says harassing them. Dirtier looks get sent her way.

“The weapon?” Dobby asks.

“Since I'm good with guns and explosives and Carp's specialty is everything bow and arrow. I think you should have a whip.” Tinkletoes suggests.

“A whip? That's all?” Dobby asks.

“We could add some knife throwing. A lot of action heroes can throw a big knife fairly well too.” Tinkletoes offers.

Dobby reaches up to stroke his chin giving this some thought. “Okay I like it.”

“TP would you mind?” Tinkletoes asks.

“If you would please stand over here.” TP says gesturing to the open area to the right side of the Writing Chair in close range with TP's perch on the mug. The faerie raises both hands and moves his fingers up and down like a musician practicing his scales. The air around Dobby's feet swirls and as it slowly moves up his body the costume appears.

Cruisin'

*Inspired by an idea from Xavier "Booger" White (9).

 The door to the darkened bonus room opens and Writer Lady enters turning on the light. “Dobby kitty! Mommy's home!” As her eyes adjust she sees Dobby sitting on the entry's step, tail thumping.

“You're late!”

“Oh...” Writer Lady says raising her hand to her chest. “Dobby, you scared me.” She looks down at her phone. “I'm not that late. It's not even 5:30.”

“Saturday night!” Dobby says sarcastically.

“You are being redundant. Cats + sarcasm = repetitive. One or the other not both. Since you're already a cat guess what that means.”

“Where were you this time?” Dobby demands.

“The farm.”

“What took you so long? You left the farm twenty minutes ago. It only takes 14.5 minutes to get here. What were you doing for those other 5.5 minutes?” Dobby asks.

“First of all how did you know that? TP hid in my coat pocket again didn't he? Second, 5.5 minutes? You want me to account for 5.5 minutes?” Writer Lady asks insulted by this invasion of her privacy.

Dobby silently glares.

“I was driving around the... (she mutters)”

“I'm sorry, not even my super feline hearing could make that out.”

“I was cruising around the square.” Writer Lady says.

Dobby just stares.

“This is a small town. The square was there. I was there. It is Saturday night. You cruise around the square...you know to see and be seen.” Writer Lady says.

“So...um what's happening up on the square this January Saturday evening when it's 15 degrees out. Whom did you see? Who saw you?”

“Pardon?” Writer Lady asks.

“Who saw you cruise around all cool and confident in your salt encrusted ride?”

“It is January and awfully cold out. So the people I cut off because I was cruising.” Writer Lady answers.

“And...?”

“Oh yeah. The squirrels. The family of squirrels that live in the trees next to the courthouse saw me. They waved and gave me a thumbs up.”

“A thumbs up from the squirrels. That just makes it all worthwhile now doesn't it?” Dobby says rolling his eyes.

“Stop and think about what you're say-ing.” Writer Lady sings out. “Jealousy is never pretty,” she mutters under her breath and walks into the main house turning on lights, closing blinds, etc...

“I don' t think you understand what's important. ME!” Dobby says sitting on the blue chair in the living room. “You just run around day and night in your happy little world cruising around making friends with birds and squirrels. What do you think this is a Disney movie?”

Writer Lady quietly crosses to the cabinet where she keeps the TV remotes and pulls out her secret weapon. A laser pointer.

“I am a Very Important Feline, endorsed by the Gem of the Con herself.” Dobby continues his offensive.

Writer Lady points the laser to the wall in Dobby's field of vision. Flashing it off an on a couple of times. Dobby sees it and stops to pay attention. The light turns off.

“You need to get your act together and start giving my fame your full attention.” Dobby says.

The laser comes back on, sweeping across the floor and on to the wall. Dobby stops talking and devotes his full attention to the red light. Tensing, he wiggles his butt ready to pounce.

Writer Lady turns off the light.

“You really have become a bit distracted lately Mom. You need to Focus. Fo-cus.”

Writer Lady turns the light back on, whisking the laser back into his sights. This time Dobby's instincts take over, he follows the light across the floor, up the wall, down the length of the room, up another wall.

“I'm sorry kitty I missed that last part. What did you say?”

Dobby out of breath, is a panting heap in the middle of the living room floor. “Fo-cus!” the ginger tabby exclaims just as he falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Name That Neurosis

Dobby sits on the living room floor watching Writer Lady who sits on the couch.

The room is silent.

The house is silent except for the sound of the running furnace and the humidifier. Two separate things not one. Just so you know.

"Mom, it's after nine you could go to bed now." Dobby says. He has seen this look before on Writer Lady. It's not a good one.

It's Wednesday night, not much on TV. It's been a long day. No fun on the horizon...

"Dobby it's funny. It really is. This moment right now is one of my worst fears. Did you know that kitty? The next fifty years of this."

Silence abounds.

"Oh no...it's starting." Dobby mutters.

TP and I came up with a plan for this. What was the code word? I can't remember...

"Dobby, you know what I wonder?" Dobby's eyes grow bigger as she talks, more quickly and less steadily with each passing moment. "I wonder if in fifty years when I finally do drop dead where will I be sitting? Will it be in this spot?"I bet it's going to be in this exact spot. There will be a really well worn butt indention right here in fifty years."

Think Dobby think.

I can't think of anything. Maybe if I do something cute I can distract her.

Dobby stiffens his body and concentrates on an obscure spot on the floor. The ginger tabby starts chirping excitedly and bobbing his head.

“What are you looking at kitty? Can Mama help you?” Writer Lady says.

Help. That's the word! “Help!” Dobby says, calling to TP.

The living room goes dark. There is thunderous rumble and a blast of fireworks. An announcer bellows, It's time to play Name that Neurosis. With your host, TP the Faerie and his lovely assistant Dobby! (quickly announcer rattles –We decided Dobby is okay even if he is only a cat.)

Startled, Writer Lady is sitting up as far back against the couch as she can go.

Here is our first contestant, she's cute, she's complicated and slightly annoying. Really, so cute we love her anyway. Please welcome, Writer Lady!

Pixies and faeries can be heard cheering in the background.

“I've seen her before. This is going to be fun.” a pixie says in a high pitched voice.

“She is such a puzzle not even Milton or Bradley will talk to her,” another pixie giggles.

On with the show!

Taking center stage in a pale blue prom tuxedo complete with ruffled shirt, TP begins. “For those of you at home who are not familiar with this game. It is simply this.”

“Dobby...” TP says with a sweeping gesture of his arm. The spotlight moves to Dobby.

Dobby smiles. “What?” he asks through clenched teeth.

“The object of the game. Please tell audience for us.” TP continues.

“You tell them. You're the host.” Dobby answers.

“I appeared when you asked for help, came up with the name and I'm wearing this stupid tux. It's your turn to do something.” TP says.

“Something's wrong.” Pixie one says looking in TP and Dobby's direction.

“Let's go see.” Says pixie too. (Too is spelled correctly in this case. These are pixies they don't follow rules).

“Tell them the rules my assistant!” TP announces again.

“I don't know any rules or the object of the game. I've got nothing. Bupkis.” Dobby argues.

“He's got nothing.” Pixie one announces to the crowd.

“Butt kiss.” Pixie too adds.

Pixie one looks at pixie too and shakes her head. “No, no, no...” There is whispering.

“Bupkis! That was Bupkis folks!” Pixie too corrects her blunder.

There are sharp intakes of breath throughout the audience.

In Faerie a bupkis is way worse than a butt kiss which is really quite nice for them. Just so you know.

The audience becomes angry and starts throwing whatever they have with them. Mostly faerie dust which doesn't hurt much. It's symbolic.

“You have broken one of the big five rules, TP.” Pixie one says, snapping her fingers a scroll materializes in front of her. Unrolling it she reads, “Rule number 5. Games must be thought up and ready for play upon introduction of said game. You must be punished.”

TP pales at the news.

The audience is silenced. Shocked that such a punishment will be executed in front of them.

“TP – Faerie of Faerie A.K.A. Totally Pixilated you have been found guilty of breaking Rule 5 of the Fae's Big Five. Prepare to meet your punishment.” Merlin's voice rumbles throughout the living room.

Pixie One and Pixie Too face TP and say in unison, “You were a very bad boy and the pixies aren't going to play with you—Any More!”

TP hangs his head sadly.

The living room empties of faeries and pixies. The faerie dust disappears and the lights come back up.

Seeing it is safe to walk around without stepping on any magical creatures Writer Lady gets up and walks over to TP. “I'm so sorry TP. I don't know what that was all about. You didn't deserve such a harsh punishment. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Thank you Writer Lady. But no there isn't.” TP answers.

“He was helping me take care of you Mom.” Dobby says. “We were distracting you so you stopped freaking out.”

“I was a bit on edge there wasn't I? Well you can be sure I won't be doing that again. That fear was right in front of me and it didn't win.”

“That fear is gone?” Dobby asks.

“That fear is gone.” Writer Ladys says with a smile and heads off to bed.

“One down only 5160 to go.” TP giggles.

“There are no more pixie dates for you. Why are you laughing?”

“You have 5160 more fears to go.” TP giggles some more. “By the way, Any More ends next week. Good night Dobby.”

Going Incognito

 “No. That's not it.” Writer Lady is sitting at the computer, muttering and sounding frustrated. “Gunnery Blue?” She says. Looking over her shoulder at the stormtrooper standing next to the doorway in High Command. “Crap! That's not it either.”

Hearing her frustrated, grumblings from his cozy spot in the living room Dobby enters wondering what the fuss is about this time. “Mom? What's wrong?” Dobby asks.

Writer Lady stops her Internet surfing and glances back over her shoulder at the stormtrooper. He has been guarding High Command since Christmas and he still doesn't have a name. It's really starting to bug me.”

“It's not real Mom. It doesn't need a name.” Dobby says.

“If it takes up space in my world and I can name it then it needs a name.” Writer Lady says.

“No it doesn't.” Dobby quietly argues.

“Yes it does.”

Dobby shakes his head. “No it really doesn't.”

“Yes it does. You have a name.” Writer Lady points out.

“I'm your baby. The baby always gets a name.”

“The plants have names.” Writer Lady says.

“They are living creatures. Not as interesting as I am. But still nameable.”

“The stuffed animal on the bed has a name.” She says.

“It's my stuffed animal, I'm the baby. So I wanted Floppy Dog to have a name. I always get what I want.” Dobby counters.

“The car has a name too.”

“That's because you're weird Mom.”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, kitty. Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you. You are the Mom. Scooper of the box, bringer of the kibble, changer of my water.”

“If you love me then I get what I want. What I want is a name for the stormtrooper.”

Dobby looks at the stormtrooper again. “How about if we move his post? In here” Dobby says. Walking across High Command and pushing the closet door open with his head. “If you don't see him you won't feel the need to name him.”

“Nope. Too late. He's been here over two weeks he needs a name. Besides you called him a “he.” You didn't say “it.”Deep down you think he needs a name too. So think. Help me name him.”

“What have you tried?” Dobby asks, licking his butt as he listens.

“Buzz Lightsaber?” After the stormtrooper I encountered at the Land of the Rising Bird.

“No. It doesn't work. He has a big gun not a red lightsaber. The other guy was all white. This one has blue trim.” Dobby says.

“I came to the

exact same conclusion.”

“What else?”

“Gunnery Blue?”

“Well he does have a gun and he does have blue on him. I'm sorry Mom that one kind of sucks.” Dobby comments.

“Ditto” Writer Lady agrees.

“Anything else?”

“Grandma suggested Number One.”

“Like Star Trek?” Dobby asks.

Writer Lady nods.

“No. It's okay to like both Star Wars and Star Trek but it's not right to mix them together. Besides, I'm your Number One Mom.”

“Against crossovers huh?”

Dobby nods.

“Okay. Well, you are my Number One kitty so calling him that wouldn't be right at all.”

Dobby stops licking and sits up. “How about Number Two?”

“Number Two?” Writer Lady asks.

“Number Two can mean second in line or give me a second I'm going to poop.” TP appears giggling.

“Dobby...” Writer Lady says scolding the ginger tabby.

“I'm sorry...it's just you're making such a big deal over nothing.”

“I don't think it's nothing. He doesn't think it's nothing either. He needs a name.” Writer Lady stresses.

“She acts like the stormtrooper has feelings or something.” Dobby says looking up at TP and rolling his eyes.

“Ah the anthropomorphism...she does have a knack for that doesn't she?” TP asks.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” TP answers.

Tinkletoes walks through the living room and hall. He stands in the doorway of High Command. “Hey Dobby have you seen the cards I brought over the other day?”

“No, no...NO!” Writer Lady bangs at the keyboard, putting her head to the desk in defeat.

“What's her problem?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Mom's trying to name the stormtrooper.” Dobby says.

“Doesn't she like his name?” Tinkletoes asks.

“He has one?”

“Yeah, he told me the other day when I introduced myself. Incognito. The name's stupid if you ask me. He's wearing a suit of armor. What do you expect out of a clone anyway? They don't know how to think for themselves. Does anyone even know what a suit of cognito looks like?”

Whatever Happened To Monitor Man?

Writer Lady sits down in front of the computer.

"Mom?" Dobby asks.

"Yeah?" Writer Lady answers and then sips on her coffee.

"So, what ever happened to Monitor Man?"

"Good question,” she answers.

"Let's check the papers." Writer Lady says.

Writer Lady starts looking for articles about Monitor Man. "So according to these papers you brought me, Monitor Man either has left Hollywood to be the leader of an obscure Third World country in

the South Pacific, was abducted by Aliens, or fell in love with an Alien and ran off to an obscure Third World Country in the South Pacific. This one says he went to South Argentina which is located in France? Dobby, what kind of newspapers are these anyway?" Writer Lady looks at the front. "Kitty these are tabloids."

"So." Dobby says.

"These are not a reliable source for news."

"Just call him and ask him what he's doing." Dobby says looking at Writer Lady expectantly.

"He didn't give TP a phone number. He didn't ask for one either. Face it Dobby, that visit was due to a tear in the space time continuum. So kitty. I love you. If you want to see Monitor Man you are going to have to turn on the TV like everyone else."
“O-kay..." Dobby leaves High Command muttering (I always knew there was something wrong with that guy--no catnip, no phone calls)(more muttering) He'd have a lot to answer for if he had accepted any of Mom's pie. Entering the living room, he sees the remote on the couch. Dobby jumps up on the couch and starts changing channels using the tip of his tail. “Where are you? Stop hiding from me. There you are.” Dobby stops and watches Monitor Man. Closely. “You're mine now.” Dobby jumps down from the couch, crosses to the TV, backing up to the television stand he lifts his tail and...
“DOBBY! What do you think you're doing kitty?” Writer Lady exclaims.
“Nothing.” Dobby answers lowering his head.
“You promised me when I adopted that you were a gentleman that would never raise his tail.” Writer Lady says.
“Mom, you promised not to get my nuts whacked off either. We both know how that turned out.” Dobby reminds her.
“You got me on that one. What were you doing? You never behave like this.”
“I'm mad.” Dobby says.
“At who?” Writer Lady asks.
Dobby turns his head, looking up at the TV.
“Oh...”
Dobby turns his head looking back at Writer Lady. “Aren't you?”
Writer Lady sighs, thinks for a moment and says, “No I'm not.”
“But he...”
“He what?”
Dobby's expression goes blank.
“Exactly. He didn't do anything. TP brought him here under false pretenses. He didn't call the cops, didn't yell he was kidnapped. He was polite, gracious and took the time to have a nice visit. Then he went home. Monitor Man did nothing wrong.”
“He never called.” Dobby says.
“People don't call after they visit sometimes. It's not required.” Writer Lady points out. “It was a surprise. A gift. It's time to let it go.”
“Aren't you sad or something?” Dobby asks.
“It's me Dobby. I can cry over pretty much anything on a bad day. It is part of who I am sometimes. I only have good feelings about Monitor Man's visit and so should you.”
“Let it go huh?” Dobby asks.
“Let it go.”
“You know you never could have hit the TV spraying from down there anyway.”
“I was going to spray while I jumped up to the level of the TV. I had it all planned. Right between the eyes.”
“All you would have done was destroyed the TV.” Writer Lady points out.
“You need a new one. One I'll like watching more. Besides Grandpa hates that you still have this.”
“It's fun watching Grandpa try to break it so I have to get a new one. Nothing is ever going to break this TV.” Writer Lady says grinning.
Dobby looks up at the TV. Monitor Man reappears on the screen. “You didn't send me any catnip. You weenie.” Dobby says, jumping up he raises his tail and...the television sizzles, crackles and goes dark.
“DOBBY!”
“It's okay Mom. Let it go. Just let it Go.”