Interview With An Imposter

                                                

Writer Lady sits in the Big Writing Chair utterly and thoroughly blocked. She keeps perusing the Internet looking for something that will lead her to something else that will get those creative juices flowing. Waiting for inspiration to strike. Dobby stays away not sure if when inspiration strikes it is anything like lightning. Writer Lady sits, reads, looks at the ceiling, the walls, the floor, thinks about vacuuming-- decides not to, eats an orange and is still blocked.

“Mom!” Dobby calls sitting in the doorway which is a safe distance from Writer Lady, just in case.

“Yes kitty?”

“Are you still blocked?” Dobby asks.

Writer Lady sighs deeply and nods.

“You know if you had eaten those funky brown sticky things you would probably be okay by now.” Dobby reminds her.

“Those are prunes and that is a different kind of blockage entirely.”

“A different kind of blockage?” Dobby asks.

“Entirely.”

“It's your mind that's going isn't it?” Dobby asks.

Writer Lady turns to Dobby and frowns. “No, in this case blocked means I am creatively blocked.”

“Oh...” Dobby goes to his catnip box, rolls it over with his nose and dumps it. The box is empty.

“What are you doing?” Writer Lady asks.

“I was going to share.”

“Dobby, catnip doesn't do for me what it does for you.”

“Have you ever had any?” Dobby asks.

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I don't. That doesn't matter the box is empty. I just have to relax a little bit and then I'll think of something.”

Dobby leaves High Command and returns with the container of prunes.

“Dobby what are you doing?”

“Why don't we smash some of these on your head?”

Writer Lady glares.

“If you've never done it you don't know that it won't work Mom.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady continues sitting at her computer with prunes smashed into her hair.

“Is it helping?”

“No. My head is wet, sticky and I feel ridiculous.”

“You smell better?” Dobby offers. “Just keep brainstorming. You've got this.”

“I hope so kitty. I hope so.”

Stopping in the doorway of High Command, Dobby turns back to Writer Lady, “You know what you need Mom?”

“No what?”

“To interview somebody. You know just for this week. Since you're blocked.” Dobby says.

“Interviews take time. Research. Background information. Questions have to be formulated. Questions the person being interviewed hasn't been asked hundreds of times before. Most importantly you have to find a willing victim...um...participant.”

“What if your subject had never been interviewed before?”

“I don't know kitty.”

“You see him every day. So you have background information.” Dobby offers.

Writer Lady tenses a little, not sure where this is going.

“What if you interviewed Incognito?”

“Incognito?”

Dobby walks over to the three foot action figure and stands up, putting his front leg around Incognito's shoulder.

“I don't think that will work kitty.” Writer Lady puts her hand to her mouth and whispers. “He's an action figure. He doesn't really talk.”

“He doesn't talk but you just shielded your mouth from him and whispered so he couldn't hear you?”

“Yes?”

“That doesn't make sense Mom. Even for you.”

“Besides if he doesn't talk how did Tinkletoes know his name?”

“Tinkletoes made up the name. He just said Incognito told him his name so I would accept it and stop freaking out about him not having one.”

“Just a month ago he was on stage with me playing a trumpet.” Dobby points out.

“TP. Faerie magic. Duh.”

“Mom. Just try it.” Dobby says dropping to all four paws and making his way into High Command's closet; leaving Writer Lady alone to study Incognito.

Inside the darkened closet, Tinkletoes and TP are already hiding. They have a view of Writer Lady and High Command from a small monitor screen. TP is wearing a headset. The faerie is covering the mouthpiece with his hand.

“I'm telling you guys, Mom is too smart. She is not going to fall for this.” Dobby says.

“She is tense and sleepy already, she is totally going to fall for this.” Tinkletoes counters. TP nods in agreement. “You're not trying to back out of our bet now are you? You do have the support of the Faerie council Dobby. They even took away TP's powers for this prank. The only way to win this bet is if your mom falls for it.”

The three watch as Writer Lady sits and studies Incognito.

“She not only has to interview Incognito. She has to believe it enough to put it in the blog and post it to the Internet. The odds are stacked against TP and me. We haven't backed out.” Tinkletoes says.

Writer Lady turns around in her chair to face Incognito.

“Okay, she's going to make a move. Here we go guys.”
 

“Hi. Incognito.” Writer Lady says. “Could I...would you be willing...may I interview you?” she asks.

“Yes.” The clone warrior says.

“Would you like to sit down?” Writer Lady asks.

“No.” Incognito says.

“Okay. Well I'm just going to pick you up and move you over to where I can see you better.” Writer Lady says picking up Incognito and placing him near the desk. “There. That's better.”

“I know your name is Incognito and you came to live in High Command on Christmas Day but where are you from...originally?”

“I am from France.” Incognito answers in an even robotic voice.

Writer Lady shifts her eyes from the monitor back to her subject. That phrase is familiar. “I'm not sure that's right.”

“I am an alien. I am from France.” Incognito repeats.

Writer Lady checks her research. “Clone troopers were created on a planet called 'Kamino.'”

“I am from France.”

Meanwhile, in the closet. “What are you doing? Why are you talking like that?” Tinkletoes asks TP.

“TP has been studying humans much. This is more natural for her. She understands.”

“She will understand very soon that this is a load of crap. Stop it!” Tinkletoes says.

Thinking for a moment, Writer Lady asks, “Where is this France? Where is your homeland?”

“Canada. My France is in Canada.” Incognito answers.

“Where is France? What part of Canada?”

“The part that speaks French.” Incognito responds robotically.

“What is the name of the city you are from?”

“Troy!” Incognito exclaims.

“There is no Troy in Canada.” Writer Lady says. Something is off about this interview.

“I am from Troy! I look just like Brad Pitt.” Incognito says. “In Troy. Brad Pitt in Troy.”

“That sounds like an old pick up line.”

“Want to kiss me?” Incognito asks.

“No I don't. There is something off about you Incognito. Besides, Brad Pitt's not my type.”

“He isn't. You don't have a type. But in Troy Brad Pitt was yummy. You said so.”

“No I didn't.” Writer Lady argues.

“Yes you did.”

“No I didn't.”

“On Sunday, March 2^nd at 2 p.m. you said, “Watching Troy? Brad Pitt isn't my type but in that movie...he sure looks yummy.”

“Troy? What is really going on here?” Writer Lady asks.

“Nothing.”

“Really.”

“Then where are you from?”

“I am from France. Incognito, the happy clone, I come from France.”

“Incognito, the happy clone?” Writer Lady repeats studying her surroundings. Looking at the ceiling fan above her head she sees it, a small camera nestled near the blades. Next she sees a fine black wire running from the ceiling fan, along the ceiling and into the closet.

“I am from France. Want to see my underpants?”

Writer Lady rises from her chair and heads for the closet.

As she crosses the room she hears a desperate plea coming from the clone warrior, “Want to see my underpants? They are blue! One of your favorite colors.”

Writer Lady opens the door of the closet to find Tinkletoes and TP huddled together watching a small screen. Both pale at the expression on her face.

“I won! Thanks for playing guys. It looks like you two are going to be kind of busy, we can settle up later.” Dobby jumps down from his perch on a shelf and leaves the room basking in the glow of not being the one who is in trouble this time.

It's All In The Title

Writer Lady is sitting in High Command waiting for lightning to strike. Inspiration to light a fire under her butt. A joke. Any joke. Nothing is happening. Getting up she makes her way into the living room.

“Dobby? Kitty?” She calls softly looking around the room.

Curled up in the blue chair, Dobby opens one eye. Barely. Writer Lady squats down on the floor next to the chair and peers at him through the spindles. “I'm sleepy.” Dobby says stretching his front legs out.

“Me too.”

“I love you Mom.” Dobby says using his front paws to touch the end of Writer Lady's nose. “It's blog time. Go write.”

“I don't know what to say. I need help.” Writer Lady gets up and heads over to the couch. “I'm going to shut my eyes for a minute kitty. A little nap is going to make all the difference.” She lays down.

“Tinkletoes. TP.” Dobby calls. “Tinkletoes! TP!” Dobby walks around the living room in circles, his call is frenzied and loud.

The mercenary and the faerie both reach the ginger tabby at the same time.

“What's wrong?”

“It's Mom. She won't wake up.” Dobby says.

“Again?” Tinkletoes asks. “It's not the chocolate thing again is it?”

Dobby shakes his head. “It's worse. This is blog night. She hasn't written a thing.”

“When is it supposed to be up?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Two hours ago.”

The cell phone lights up and vibrates on the end table by the couch.

“Do you want me to get that?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Those are her followers. Demanding to know what's going on.” Dobby says.

“How many followers does she have?”

“Four.” Dobby says.

“Four? You're scared of four people?” Tinkletoes asks.

“They are fiercely loyal.” Dobby says.

“Follower says kitty needs to go to the pound. Where litter is cheap, dusty and will stink just as much as Dobby's poop.” TP giggles reading the latest text.

Dobby's eyes grow wide. “I don't know what to do.”

“We'll just have to give the people what they want.” Tinkletoes says.

“Tinkletoes wants to write.” TP giggles.

“No TP. We need your magic. What will fix this?” Tinkletoes says.

TP flutters over to Tinkletoes' ear and starts whispering.

“Really? She can do that without being awake?” Tinkletoes asks.

TP nods.

“Don't worry Dobby. We've got this.” Tinkletoes crosses the living room and carries Writer Lady into High Command, sitting her gently in the Big Writing Chair. He places her hands on the keyboard.

“Now what?”

“TP will enchant the keyboard to pick her thoughts up while she is sleeping and string the random components into a post. All we have to do is wait. When we get enough for the post. I will put it up on the Internet.”

Several minutes later Tinkletoes goes to the computer and looks at the word count on the word processing program. “690 words. That should be about right.” After picking up Writer Lady and putting her back on the couch, Tinkletoes settles in to put up the new post for the blog. “It's cut and pasted. Now all I need is a title. Got it. See Dobby it's all done. The day is officially saved.” Tinkletoes announces. “That was hard work. Tell your Mom to make me some muffins in the morning. I'll be by. Early.”

Writer Lady wakes from her nap happy and refreshed. She checks her phone right away confident that she had only lost an hour. “2 A.M. It's two in the morning. Oh no!” She screams running to the computer. Checking it quickly she breathes a sigh of relief. “It's okay. I must have woken up and written the blog earlier. You know you're tired when you get up in the middle of the night, write and post a blog and then forget about it.” Clicking on the link Writer Lady smiles and takes a peek at what she came up with. Her smile shrinks the longer she reads, “Oh no. No, oh no. This is not good. This is not good at all.” She turns away from the chair and breathes deeply. In and out. In and out. With each passing moment the breathing becomes more frantic. “Dobby kitty! Come here please!”

“Mom?” Dobby asks. Writer Lady is pale and breathing erratically.

“Who wrote this?” She asks.

“You did.”

She breathes faster shaking her head.

“It's kind of a long story.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady continues to hyperventilate.

“I'll tell you everything but promise me one thing.”

Writer Lady nods.

“Put your head between your knees Mom, head between your knees.”

She bends over putting her head between her knees and listens.

“Remember at 8 o'clock tonight when you laid down for quick nap?” Dobby proceeds to fill Writer Lady in on what she has missed.

“So, they hooked my sleeping body up to a computer like I was another computer and recorded any random thoughts that might make a blog.” Writer Lady says. She is out of the Hyperventilating stage and has entered the Anger stage.

“Did you read it?” She asks.

“I can't read Mom.” Dobby says.

“Did anyone read it?” She asks.

“Tinkletoes glanced at it. He came up with the title.”

“And this is where it gets interesting. The title. Do you know what the title is?”

Dobby shakes his head.

“Lonely Widow Ladies Get Sexy And Wild. What the...is that supposed to mean? What if a child reads this?”

Writer Lady looks down at Dobby. “What if a child has already read this?”

“Mom.”

“The post itself is so simple and disjointed it makes a grade school reader look like Shakespeare.”

“Mom?”

“I can't believe this is happening. This is really happening. I try to be a good person and live a good life. It's gone. Just gone.”

“Mom!  Let's check the stats. Look at the comments and see if anyone was offended.” Dobby says.

A light slowly dawns. “Of course. I may be worrying for nothing.” Writer Lady goes to the blogs stats to check things out. “I have 3000 hits tonight. You know what this means kitty.”

“Yes.”

“There are some really sick people out there.”

“Don't be so quick to judge Mom you have lots of comments. Read one.”

Clicking the comments button she reads, “Hey there. I didn't know you could...write. This was so great, it started out really exciting. Especially with the title. Then it got slower and slower. The story made no sense even for me. I starting falling asleep. Dude. I told everyone in my insomniac support group about this. We are all ready to snooze. I have a whole new respect for you. You are one Cool Cat Mom.

Catchin' Those Zzzzs.

I love you man.

Ray

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.”