8******************************
Diane opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering why she was conscious at all. Then she noticed the large two-headed cat with one, two, three, four slimy orange tails that stared at her from her computer.
She glanced at the clock: five thirty. "Unngghnuh. ImeancanIhelpyou?"
(What?) The cat-creature spoke inside her head.
"Is there a reason you're here?"
(Hel-lo, I have two heads and four tails, I'm pink and orange, and the owner of the nuclear power plant stole my kittens.)
"Um, okay... And..."
(And my friend's neighbor's girlfriend's aunt's cousin told me to come to you.)
"So I should..."
(HELP ME!)
"gEH'nuch. Oh, all right... THGIRBRATS! EEL! NRUBTAEH! NIATNUOM!"
"You *know*," Heatburn whined, "only *Starbright* actually works for you."
"But I was kind and let all of you come along... Wait! Who are you?" She indicated a female elemental who was standing behind Lee.
"Swiftrush. And you are..."
"Diane. The one. The only. The... Okay, enough of that. Does anyone know anything about nuclear two-headed pink and orange cats? Because I have one."
(Not really sure what you mean by have. I'm not yours.)
"What?" Heatburn looked at Mountain.
"I didn't *say* anything."
"Then who *did?* *STARBRIGHT?!*" he said increduously. "Did *you* just get inside *my* head? *Most* people can't do that!"
He looked surprised. "No! Why would *I* say, 'I'm not yours?' Nobody ever said I was! It must have been... OH!" The pink and orange cat emerged from under the bed. It was glowing.
"Okay, *that* explains everything..."
(Uh-huh. So, are you going to HELP me or just hang around here talking?)
"Umm... good question. People?"
"Well, that depends... What do we get for it?"
"Pizza?"
"Fine. *Do* we get pizza?"
(Who knows the future?) intoned the cat-creature.
"Just one question. Can you actually, well, speak?"
"Yes," it said in a voice resembling that of a very screechy pterosaur, (but it gives me hives.)
"Okay then. Where do we begin?"
(The nuclear power plant. Here, wear these.) The cat-creature produced six pairs of rainbow-colored earmuffs. (And somebody needs to say the word 'onion' three times.)
"Onion, onion, onion. Now..."
They were jerked irresistably forward. The sensation was that of a string tied around their right ears being jerked irresistably forward. They came to a halt outside a two-towered nuclear power plant. "Now what?"
(Upstairs to the top floor. He wants a kitten-fur hat.)
"Ugh. How 101 Dalmatians."
(There aren't 101. There are four. And he's not a woman.)
"Poor guy, he's probably never had any fun in life."
(Ha, *ha.* Those are my kittens.)
"Sorry."
~Excuse me,~ Editors 1 and 2 interrupted, ~but it's getting pretty damn boring.~
|NO SWEARING! THE CENSORS HAVE SPOKEN!|
(Ah, we're here.) They followed the cat-creature inside an office.
And fell into a pit of glowing green slime.
(That's what happened the last time. I thought you people were going to *help.*)
"You didn't *tell* us there was a glowing green slime pit there. How were we supposed to know?"
(You could have looked at the "Danger: Green Slime Pit" signs.)
"Sorry. Somebody get us out?"
"plEh. Is the stuff what gave you your tails?"
(Probably. I was born this way. We've always lived here.)
"You've always lived *here?*"
(Our family has, dating back to the sixteen fifties,) she said primly. (My mother...)
"Wait. There were no nuclear power plants in the sixteen fifties."
(Back then it was somebody's house.)
"Okay then. And the kittens are... where?"
"Ahm, people," Heatburn interrupted, "I think we have a problem."
Mountain had grown a long, iridescent tail.