Fat Cat Suburbia: Part Two

The absurdity continues…

Read part one here! Part Three — the conclusion — is forthcoming!

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Photo by Trung Pham Quoc on Unsplash

It did not take the Faircourt Circle cats long to devise a plan. It was simple in practice, devastating in its effects.

They simply stared.

They stared at the humans whenever they ate. They stared at breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the snacks in between. If the humans walked around the house while eating, the cats would haunt their every step. For a day or two, this only mildly provoked the humans, with perplexity giving way to unease, and now to forced ignorance.

Pretty Kitty was the first to witness a change.

Her human finished eating his turkey sandwich, licked his fingers, and proceeded to eat his plate and napkin. Shock set her fur on end, but Pretty Kitty maintained her overwhelming gaze even as she savored the sound of her human’s tongue smacking on paper, the screech of his teeth gliding off the porcelain. Blood soon coated his lips, and a chunk of porcelain poked out of his cheek. He was crying, but Pretty Kitty didn’t blink.

She lost a pound that day.

The cats met the next night with their tails straight and eyes shining. The humans are eating everything! they exclaimed. Toilet paper, forks, refrigerator magnets, tape, headphones, anything!

Mothball said he almost gave up, as intense staring was harder than it seemed, but on the second night he felt a shifting in his organs, and when he tried to groom his ass he swore he was a centimeter closer than before. Mr. Squiggles reported his human ate all his prized baseballs. Tigger, much to his excitement, lost his nail clippers to his humans’ binging. Alabaster lowered his gaze and said his humans ate two of the koi fish. Pretty Kitty licked his cheek and murmured her condolences.

Emboldened by their results, the cats continued to stare, and the humans continued to gorge. They ate couch cushions, dish towels, computer keyboards, window blinds, picture frames, soccer balls. Tigger suggested hiding the things they didn’t want to be eaten, Mothball volunteered his garage as a hiding spot, and at night they brought their food bowls, catnip toys, treat bags, and other prized belongings to be hidden away.

A week after they began staring, the humans, bellies distended, lips torn and crusted in pus and blood, started staring back.

© Cat and Moth Writings
All Rights Reserved

 

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