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- Squeakio, it is 4am!
- Ave, Sneakius, it is! The trumpets blare; the crowds filling the Colisseum howl in anticipation, and we poor Cattivellani, captured during the Legions unstoppable march to the very ends of the earth, must now take part in the SCAMPERUS MAXIMUS!
- The SCAMPERUS MAXIMUS! A hurricane-fast foot-race, under the bed, up the walls, down the stairs, back up the stairs, then over Limey's face (several times), followed by vicious hand-to-hand combat, our martial cries echoing off the arena walls.
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Today, we were captured by Demonic Servitors who had taken on the appearance of the kindly giants who normally give us food and tickles, trapped in cages, despite a truly titanic struggle*, and taken off to the Hellish lair of the Dread Sorcerer VETNA-YARA-YOON, who prodded our tummies and anointed us with foul unguents, no doubt in preparation for sacrificing us to his eldritch, unknowable masters.
Luckily, we escaped**, since our savage spirits and raw-edged blades surrender to none, and emerged rich in treasure and experience, having learned that I (Sneaker) am far too looooooong in the thews and need a bigger cat carrier, and I (Squeaker) have my podge on, and require fewer cat biscuits and/or no more second breakfasts at the neighbours' houses.
* Mild howling and wriggling.
** They got their flea treatment and were taken home immediately afterwards
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FINALLY, they let me out! Me, Squeaky One-Fang of the Nineteen Toes, kept in durance vile by the Titans for nearly a fortnight, but finally UNLEASHED ON A WORLD UNPREPARED FOR MY RAW, UNBRIDLED SAVAGERY, for around 15 minutes, anyway, until I got fed up and wanted to go back inside for a snooze on the sofa and some more tickles
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Sneaker: I'm going to wait for a momentary lapse in attention from the Titan and then leap up onto the counter and attempt to scoff his breakfast, even though I've already had mine.
Squeaker: Well, I'm just going to YELL and YELL and YELL and YELL and YEEEEEELLLLLLL, and then I'm going to sidle up to your blind side and bap you on the head
Squeaker: I like to POUNCE!!!
Sneaker: On me, when I'm comfortably asleep, or enjoying cuddles with the Titans.
If you want bother, remember that I'm bigger than you.
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Due to a broken-down train, the Titan came back very late from fencing last night, just in time to thwart our raid on the food waste recycling bin. Thinking to stymie future attempts, he then put a tub full of soaking shirts on the top and left the room.
We knocked the whole thing over immediately, of course, meaning he had to come back in and mop the floor dry when he really, really wanted to go to bed.
Serves him right.
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Today was mainly spent questing for the legendary, carbonised LEG OF VECNA Editor's note: this assumes that Vecna was a roast chicken, which, canonically, at least, does not appear to be the case , engulphed in flaming fire, then secreted in a massy chest and locked inside a keep of dire proportions by a cruel, unfeeling giant who refuses to let us run riot in the Halls of Infinite Nourishment. We failed, but by Koth, we will keep trying, no matter what the odds.
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