A wubulous story co-written by kitkatkitty7 (yay for her!). In fact...she wrote the ending. Grr.


The Era of the Legless, Earless, Jawless, Two-Toothed Cat Type Thing

Once upon a midnight dreary, there lived a sweet, kind, good-natured kitten in the very back of a pet store. This poor, unfortunate kitten had the bad luck of being born without legs, ears, or a lower jaw. He did, however, have tiny little nubs for legs and for ears and a tiny, deformed jaw that flapped uselessly against the roof of its mouth. Perhaps his defining feature was his chameleon-like tongue.

He had been lying unhappily in the back of the store for months upon months, and no one really wanted to buy him, because of its …disabilities. He had no kitty friends to speak of in the store, and he was quite lonely.

Until one day when the sun shone a little brighter and the birds in the store sang a little shriller. That day, the cat knew his one true owner would come along. For you see, the cat had mysterious…psychic abilities, but let's not get into that right now.

Indeed, his new owner walked into the store with a bounce in her step and a maniacal gleam in her eyes. She walked straight over to the kitten section and began glancing over each kitten, hoping to find the "right" one to take home to her fabulous, luxurious mansion. (Grin.) She saw many a cute and feisty kitten, but one caught her eye. One black, legless, jawless, earless kitten flopping around uselessly in its cage in happiness.

Though its coat was thick and full and its body sleek and muscular, it was the cat's poor, pitiful eyes that made her swoon in delight. A price tag on the side of the cage read, "$5 to a good home". Being extremely frugal (as one could tell just by looking at her large, extravagant home with fourteen bedrooms, only one of which she occupied), she happily told the store manager that this was indeed the one she wanted to take home.

Well, the store manager was so happy that he began to do the Cha-Cha Slide in delight, much to the dismay of the soon-to-be owner, Autumn.

So Autumn happily took the cat home in her red Viper convertible, for which she'd stolen the money from her "late" father. The cat was overjoyed, sitting there on the leather cushion, seat belt strapped pointlessly over its larva-like body. Except for the one time when Autumn began driving a little too fast and the cat flew out of the car and Autumn had to circle back to retrieve him.

Arriving to the house with some lacerations but mostly healthy, the cat immediately took to his new surroundings, inching around with the use of his tiny, almost-pointless stubs. Autumn was fascinated to note that the cat could actually move around on its own; she had been worried about having to carry him everywhere. SHE HAD THINGS TO DO, OKAY?! SHE DIDN'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT BULLSHT! Anyway, she was fascinated. He had one claw on his front right paw that made annoying clacking noises against the linoleum on the kitchen floor. There were times when Autumn was tempted to use the meat cleaver in the drawer beside the kitchen sink (which also contained several hand grenades and other pleasantries), but she was taking anger management classes and was just learning to control her fury at the constant clack…clack…clack…clack…

One day, however, Autumn got really fed up. YOU WOULD'VE TOO, ALL RIGHT?! So she was fed up. And she had to give the cat to someone …but whom?

Just as she was pondering this very question, stroking the cat with shaking hands, there was a knock at the door. She dropped the cat rather harshly on the floor and went to answer it.

"Greetings, dear friend, and how art thou on this fantastical day?" said the anonymous person behind the door. Autumn unlatched the burglar lock and swung open the door. Now, unlike most front doors, Autumn's swung out rather than in, and so the anonymous person was nearly hit by the door, but jumped gracefully out of the way at the last second.

"Molly," said Autumn darkly, eyes narrowed into menacing slits. Autumn was at that moment, after all, royally pissed off at the cat and was having difficulties withholding her anger.

"Autumn," said Molly, wondering why she was getting a death-glare and inching back a little.

"Please," Autumn growled, "come in."

"Ah, thank you … what an, er, humble home …"

Autumn lead Molly inside, stomping all the way (which shook the floor, causing the poor cat to roll helplessly around, howling in pain), and into the kitchen, where Molly took it upon herself to pour them some wine.

Autumn, however, pushed her glass away and downed a shot of whiskey from her hip flask. It had a demon on it. A menacing demon. Molly became nervous.

"What," began Autumn in a rather sadistic-sounding voice, "are you doing here at this time of afternoon, Molly?!"

"Oh, I uh … what am I doing here?" Molly questioned, stroking her chin lightly and staring into space. Autumn mentally kicked herself for asking such a question.

Suddenly, Molly took a cough drop out of her pocket. Strawberry flavored. Nummy. Anyway, she popped it into her mouth. "It helps me think," she explained to Autumn, and suddenly Molly's mind was filled with ingenious thoughts and insightful visions. "I UNDERSTAND!"

Unfortunately, Autumn chose that moment to hit Molly quite harshly over the head with a nearby candelabrum. Molly collapsed to the floor, barely conscious, and the cough drop flopped uselessly to the ground.

"Sorry, but you're really annoying," Autumn said, looking sadly down at Molly.

"You're so mean!" shouted Molly, pounding the floor in anger and kicking her feet behind her. The poor cat, who had been waddling the best it could up behind her, was kicked aside. Skidding across the floor, it smashed into the leg of a desk that held a very valuable vase. The vase fell, and all hope was lost as it came crashing down upon the lame cat's earless head.

Autumn stared after the cat, a vein appearing on her right temple and beginning to throb violently. But at that moment, Autumn came up with a brilliant idea, and she wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. I mean, geez, it was SO FREAKING OBVIOUS.

"Molly," Autumn began, that malicious glint returning to her eyes, "how would you like to keep my cat?"

"Um...what cat? The only other living thing I see in this house is that furry worm-type thing over there," Molly stated, pointing vaguely in the direction of the broken vase and the cat.

"Well, that's him!" Autumn exclaimed, a huge, fake grin on her face. "Isn't he, ehh...gorgeous?"

"Why, but I've never seen on like that!"

"Oh, well, that's because he's..." Autumn thought for a moment, wracking her brain, "He's Burmese, is what he is. A very rare type of Burmese."

"Really?!" Molly exclaimed, standing up. "Well, what's his name?"

Autumn looked at her blankly. "Name?"

"Well, sure, he has to have a name, doesn't he?" Molly said and lifted him up. "If he doesn't, I should give him one, huh?"

Autumn marveled at Molly simple-mindedness. In reality, she had just been referring to the cat as, "That Thing Over There" or "That Thing Right Beside Me" or "That Thing On The Counter" or...you get the idea.

"TOT!" Molly exclaimed excitedly.

"Uh, what was that?" asked Autumn, snapping out of a sort of trance.

"His name...shall be...Tot."

Autumn grinned at the thought of his name being an acronym for "Thing Over There". Then she wondered when she'd ever seen the cat on the counter, because, obviously...it really couldn't get up there.

The cat, or Tot, now stared blankly at the both of them; Molly looking adoringly at the deformed feline and Autumn chuckling to herself dementedly.

And so Molly held Tot lovingly in her arms and, without even a parting word to Autumn, pranced out the door and began heading back to her house, skipping all twenty miles and leaving her dilapidated, old station wagon parked in front of Autumn's mansion. (Autumn had the station wagon towed later that evening.) Tot and Molly soon became the best of friends. Why, they spent every moment of the day together, except during Molly weekly therapy sessions (and Molly had protested vehemently when her doctor told her pets, or anything remotely resembling a pet, in Tot's case, were not allowed). Yes, they remained happy and jolly and joyful and content for a long, long time.

Until on fateful day.

Autumn, you see, had been watching Molly's happiness obsessively since Tot had been given um. She couldn't understand how Molly remained so happy with such an annoying beast.

She was jealous, as any human in their not-so-right mind would've been, and she wanted the happiness Molly had. Indeed, money couldn't not buy happiness, and she had grown tired of her dipshit boyfriend and large house. But not her shiny red convertible. No, she kept that. But everything else was so...boring, and she needed a change. Perhaps some part of her missed the clacking of Tot's one nail and the way he always seemed to be able to get on the counter without her assistance, defying the laws of physics. Perhaps she even missed his two, and only fangs, which he would use to stab her toes in the morning when she only wanted to sleep in and he wanted food. In fact, she was sure she even missed how he would catch flies with his chameleon-like tongue.

So, she realized, she had to convince Molly somehow to give Tot up—whether by force or just a stroke of genius. For you see, Autumn, however frugal and cleaver, had an extremely fickle personality. One could almost call her bipolar, though she refused to step foot anywhere near a psychiatrist's office and so could not be properly diagnosed. Autumn frequently changed her mind about these sort of things. Why else would she have gone out with Chris over seven times within a two-year period? Why else would she have paid for tap dancing lessons for one week and then wanted to sing opera the next?

Why else?! Come one, what's it gonna be?! Huh? What'd you say? I heard that, bitch. WELL?! ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!

I thought so.

So Autumn was fickle. But that wasn't entirely the point. The ominous point was, how exactly to persuade Molly to hand over Tot? The first thought to float through Autumn's mind was, "Write a persuasive essay, you silly goose!" This thought came into her mind sounding as if spoken by her former language arts teacher, the "late" Mr. May. The thought continued with its brainwashing power, "You should write a persuasive essay, complete with a lead, two to three supporting paragraphs, and a wrap up in which you restate the topic and include a 'call to action.' Make sure to also stick in lots of vivid details and make a rap song to go with it!" Ah, poor Autumn had been beaten over the head with this crap for years as a child and had suffered many a psychological disorder as a result. But no matter; she quickly silenced the thought, just as she had...silenced Mr. May. Instead, she decided to resort to brute force.

On the day Autumn decided this, dark storm clouds hovered above her, following her everywhere until Autumn took out one of those aforementioned hand grenades and threw it at the storm clouds, causing them to explode in a way that is quite uncharacteristic of storm clouds. Autumn then got into her Viper convertible and drove the twenty miles to Molly's excuse-for-a-house in under three minutes. (Many years ago Autumn had bribed all the cops in the city with a fair amount of money to turn a blind eye at all of her little speeding incidents.)

At the moment that Autumn had pulled up Molly's driveway (which was mysteriously covered in egg shells), Molly and Tot were enjoying a game of fetch within Molly's loverly house. At least, Molly was; poor Tot was only getting smacked repeatedly in the head with a rubber ball, due mostly to the fact that cats usually suck at fetch. Not to mention Molly's atrocious aim and Tot's inability to grasp things in his mouth because of his useless, flapping jaw. Molly heard the car pull up, though, and immediately stopped throwing the rubber ball, much to the delight of the now rather bloody-faced Tot. Tot's delight didn't last, though, because soon as Molly realized who was just outside her door, she giggled in delight and skipped over to the doorway, humming tunelessly and somehow landing on the rubber ball in a way that made it collide painfully with Tot's side, causing him to tip over.

Now, like most front doors, Molly's swung in rather than out, and as Molly reached for the doorknob, she had no time to prepare herself for the consequences of this.

Just before Molly opened the door, Autumn leaned against it, and as soon as the doorknob turned, the sorry-excuse-for-a-door (it had six peepholes) collapsed inward, crushing Molly horribly.

Autumn winced. "Eh, Molly, you in here?"

A groan from underneath the door was her answer. Autumn stepped over the doormat, careful not to tread on the busted door or any of the small, chirruping squirrels that scampered around in Molly's living room.

"Nice place you've got," Autumn noted, sarcasm evident in her tone, and then grinned evilly. "Listen, I've come for the cat. Er, animal. Thing. I want Tot."

Another groan came from under the rubble. Molly's hand appeared from between some rocks. God knew where the rocks had come from. Autumn had only knocked down the door.

"Right, okay. Say good-bye to Molly, Tot!" Autumn said, lifting Tot off the floor. Walking through the huge, gaping hole in the front of the house, Autumn tossed Tot into the car.

But Tot, you see, had a plan. He knew that Autumn was evil. I mean, it was pretty obvious. She even had little horns on the side of her head. Like maybe a devil would have. Like in cartoons. Anyway, Tot knew that Autumn was evil, but he also knew it was only because she had never had happiness in her life, not ever, not even when she was a wittle baby and such. And he also knew that Molly was kind and good, and way better than Autumn when it came to taking care of living things. And he also knew that he was most happy when Autumn and Molly were around each other, because at those times, Autumn's awesomeness combined with Molly's awesomeness to form this big...ball of...er...awesome power... Anyway, he knew that in order to get Autumn and Molly back as friends again, he would have to do something big. Something wild. Something insane. And he knew exactly what that something was.

And as Autumn drove off to her mansion, cackling evilly, Tot took a deep breath and started to howl.


"AHHH!" Autumn screamed, jerking the steering wheel violently and slamming on the brakes, thereby causing the car to spin and flip over in the middle of I-275.

There was a sickening crunch of metal as the car rolled onto its side, and Tot flopped on the ground, hoping Autumn wasn't too hurt. Fortunately, Autumn had remembered the number one rule of driving: Never wear your seat belt. She lay sprawled on the median, wincing and cursing Tot's existence. Getting up painfully, she kicked Tot back into the car and proceeded to try to lift the car off the ground. Other cars sped by, unnoticing.

"Damn you, Tot. DAMN YOU TO HELL!" She sat down, giving up, and cursed Molly (across town, Molly, sensing something was wrong, sobbed long and hard), and the cat. But what she didn't notice was Tot climbing into the car with amazing agility. And revving up the engine. And pressing the big red button.

Now, see here, most cars don't come standard with a button that's big and red. But Autumn's had one because Autumn was special. In a way many aren't. And kind of clever, in a conniving way. She had installed this big red button several months before when she noticed her house had termites, despite being made of steel. Pretty steel. She had originally intended the button to be used in case of the termite problem ever reaching a level beyond her capabilities to ignore. (Autumn was rather lazy and did not believe in exterminators.) For you see, when pressed, the big red button would cause Autumn's house to explode in a truly satisfying way.

There was a chance, of course, that Tot's act would have gone unnoticed by Autumn, that she would not have realized that her house was now but a mere pile of charred rubble and therefore would have went home in a state of somewhat confuzzlement. But at that moment, Autumn chanced a glance up at the horizon.

There, looming in the distance was a huge mushroom cloud, the red and black implosion seen for miles around. Later, Bay News 9 would report seeing people fleeing from the area around her home. Neighbors would file official-looking complaints against her for property damage. The City of St. Petersburg would foolishly try to evict her. Dumbasses. HER HOUSE EXPLODED.

Anyways, when she saw the huge, horrible disaster, she knew what had happened. There was no use grieving – what was done was done, and also remarkably unexpected. But now she had a problem (besides the angry mobs): she had nowhere to live.

Who would she go to that would be there for her? Whose home could she live in for a week or so until she bought another extravagant home? Who was kind enough to let her back into their home time and time again no matter how evil or bitchy she was? WHO!?

Again, the answer lay across town, where Molly sat, still bawling her poor wittle eyes out. Molly was very sensitive to these sort of vibes involving explosions and negative thoughts and such. Also, she was beginning to miss Tot. And also again, she had quite a few injuries from that whole door-thing and the mysterious rocks falling on top of her, crushing her spine and all. This last part worried her the most—surely her insurance rates would burst through the ceiling when they heard about this. But no matter, because when Molly began to sense the negative thoughts edging away, and the explosion losing its…explosiony-ness, she began to cheer up again and decided, for no obvious reason, to go frolicking down I-275, searching for wildflowers. Poor dimwitted creature.

And just as she came skipping down the road gleefully, a thought came to Autumn. Surely Molly would forgive her! Autumn had been so evil and cruel, and now she could apologize properly. As she stood to pick up Tot and rush across town, her eyes fell on the very person she was looking for.





And then, many hugs and apologies were made and the whole world was happy. And Autumn stopped being so evil, and Molly got her GED. And the world was right once more.