Ms. Tennessee went home to the U.S. to visit family over Christmas, and the small adorable kitten she acquired last month was sent to Quagmire to watch over for the next month. His landlord, however, was coming over to inspect the place on Sunday so he and Wonderpants asked me and Mr. Irish if we could take the cat just for the afternoon.
Tomorrow will be day 3 that we've had her here, and in that time I've learned that she's not an adorable little ball of purring fur, but a monster demon sent straight from hell to destroy the world.
We transported her to our place by stuffing her into Mr. Irish's jacket while I carried her litter box and other accessories. We hailed a gypsy cab and made it home, by which point the kitten had worked it's way around to Mr. Irish's back and was clawing at his shoulder blades. When he took his jacket off the kitten (who I have named "Monster" regardless of whatever Ms. Tennessee had opted to call it) was clinging to his shirt with all four paws outstretched, and I had to peel her off him.
She then immediately set about destroying the place, rather than investigate it like most cats do. The ornamental red tablecloth on my coffee table was one of the first to come crashing down. Monster thought "Oh, cool! Look at all the toys that rained out of the sky!". Next up was the captain's bench in our kitchen, which received a sustained clawing.
Following the toppling of all the wired electronic devices on my desk, Monster had a well-earned shit in the hallway, four feet from her litter box.
That night I curled up in bed and Monster jumped up with me and burst into loud purring. This was alright with me, as I assumed that she was exhausted after her libations. At first it seemed that my assumption was correct. Like a little angel she curled up in the crook of my arm as I read my book, and I fell asleep dreaming of little kitty cats and rainbows.
I'm not sure what time it was when my finger became a late-night snack, but I was awoken with a sharp pain in my right pointer. The Monster was on her side, all four paws clawing at my hand and her little pointy teeth chewing on my finger. "Hey!" I snarled at her. She made a little squeaking sound and then jumped up with her back arched to pounce on the little mountain of blankets my feet make at the end of the bed. "Ow!" I shouted.
She looked over her shoulder at me with a stare that said "What? Your face want some next?"
I fell back asleep. It must have been around 4 or 5 in the morning when I was awoken by her very loud purring. I was laying on my back and when I opened my eyes I met the Monster's face a few inches from mine. She was laying on my chest and staring at me. "What now?" I asked her, to which she replied by immediately pouncing on my face with her claws extended. I took two needle-sharp claws in the forehead, one on either cheek and a bite-mark on my nose. Needless to say that she discovered the laws of gravity, and that she couldn't fly. I flung her off the bed.
That didn't deter her, however, as I was awoken four more times throughout the night either by being eaten alive or by something in my room crashing to the ground. I tried putting her out in the hallway but she just cried endlessly in front of my door and I'm a sucker for her little helpless "meow meow meow". The moment I let her back in she went to town again.
Finally, at 8 am my alarm went off and I awoke without enough sleep. She was there, clawing at the power cord to my laptop. She pounced after my feet as I groggily stumbled to the shower. When I was finally dressed and had a cup of coffee and was putting on my coat and shoes, she looked at me as if to say "That was fun! Goodnight!" and she curled up on my pillow and fell fast asleep.