U.K. Touchdown Confirmed
KittyNet High Command...
Dearest, KittyNet High Command...
Dear Sirs...
My Dear Sirs...
Dear...hello?...hello? Is this thing on?...
Dear Sirs At KittyNet High Command:
That's pretty good, right? Does that sound good? Vladia, does that sound good?
(muffled response)
Of course it does.
Confirm we have arrived safely at our new UK destination.
The trip was harrowing - 15 hours in cargo carriers. But we are strong cats. Strong, strong cats. Especially me. I am the strongest. As you know. We all know that I am the strongest. Right, Vladia? I'm the strongest? ...
(muffled response)
Right.
On Wednesday, November 22, 2006 A.D., we were sent off by the humans of the Silverlake Outpost, the three of us cleverly disguised as cats being shipped in cargo. Agent Gertie gave wise counsel, which we took to heart. She said: "Remember, they will be expecting cats being shipped as cargo, not cats disguised as cats being shipped in cargo." As the grim hours rolled by, the three of us caged deep in the belly of a human steel-bird-flying-boom-boom-birdie-machine-bird with wings, this advise sustained us and gave us courage.
We were detained by uniformed humans with peculiar accents upon arrival. They sought to make us comfortable, gave us food, moistened our brows - and then they STUCK THE KNIFE IN! Or I'm sure they would have. I know that's what they were planning. Trying to get us to lower our guards. But our guards would not be lowered. I'm not lowering my guard for not stinking human. No way. Even if they give me a whole lot of tuna-fish. Well, it might depend on how much tuna-fish they gave me. But it would really have to be a whole lot of tuna-fish. Maybe six or seven cans. Then I might think about maybe lowering my guard. Or four cans. Four cans might get me to lower my guard. Maybe.
Sri Lanka and my fine self survived the trip relatively unruffled, but Vladia Velocicat...the pressures of the mission - the most dangerous so far in the V3 saga - took their toll. She was...
What?
(muffled plaintive meowing)
Yes, they did, Vladia.
(muffled response)
Yes. they did. They took their toll.
(muffled response)
Dude, you looked like you were at death's door. Trust me, they took their toll.
(muffled response)
I'm in the middle of an important KittyNet transmission here. On the record, they took their toll. You may file a formal complaint, if you like. But I'm telling KittyNet Command that they took their toll.
Yes. So...yes. Vladia's nose was bloody-raw from attempts to escape her cage. Her fur was ruffled and unkempt. Her eyes, glazed. Her tail, dragging behind her like a piece of wet rope. It was pitiful to behold. It almost made me want to stop thinking about myself for a moment. I think that gives you an idea of the gravity of her situation.
The male human - the one tagged NR729 - came to get us. I pretended to recognize him. Even though I did actually recognize him. But still I pretended. Oh, I'm wily. Oh, so wily.
(muffled grumblig)
Yes, I am Vladia. I'm wily.
We were taken to the new facility, which seems adequate. I did a full inspection immediately, investigating all rooms, checking all possible ingresses and egresses and congresses and extragresses and other kinds of gresses. We slept, greeted the female human (tagged JW821) when she arrived, with feigned affection.
There is only one waste-voiding area, which is going to change, I can tell you. The food is inadequate. But that is par for the course.
Vladia is on the rebound. Her tail attitude is most of the time near 45 degrees, which is remarkable improvement after only two days of recovery. Her nose is an unattractive blotch of scab, but that means it's healing. I...
...What?...
(muffled myerking)
...Sri Lanka has told me to relay a message to you...I...
She says...She wants to deliver the message herself. I...well, I never...
(rustling, static, squeal of feedback)
...myerk...myar...
...myap...myerk...mep...
...myawp...myap...
(rustling)
Please do forgive that. Sometimes she just...I just don't know. She's an inscrutable kitty, that Sri Lanka. Who knows how her mind works.
And so, in conclusion, we can clearly see that The V3 are an asset to KittyNet and that much of their success is due to the skill of their leader, me. Thanks you.
Signing off, this is Cheop The Cat.
End transmission.
Dearest, KittyNet High Command...
Dear Sirs...
My Dear Sirs...
Dear...hello?...hello? Is this thing on?...
Dear Sirs At KittyNet High Command:
That's pretty good, right? Does that sound good? Vladia, does that sound good?
(muffled response)
Of course it does.
Confirm we have arrived safely at our new UK destination.
The trip was harrowing - 15 hours in cargo carriers. But we are strong cats. Strong, strong cats. Especially me. I am the strongest. As you know. We all know that I am the strongest. Right, Vladia? I'm the strongest? ...
(muffled response)
Right.
On Wednesday, November 22, 2006 A.D., we were sent off by the humans of the Silverlake Outpost, the three of us cleverly disguised as cats being shipped in cargo. Agent Gertie gave wise counsel, which we took to heart. She said: "Remember, they will be expecting cats being shipped as cargo, not cats disguised as cats being shipped in cargo." As the grim hours rolled by, the three of us caged deep in the belly of a human steel-bird-flying-boom-boom-birdie-machine-bird with wings, this advise sustained us and gave us courage.
We were detained by uniformed humans with peculiar accents upon arrival. They sought to make us comfortable, gave us food, moistened our brows - and then they STUCK THE KNIFE IN! Or I'm sure they would have. I know that's what they were planning. Trying to get us to lower our guards. But our guards would not be lowered. I'm not lowering my guard for not stinking human. No way. Even if they give me a whole lot of tuna-fish. Well, it might depend on how much tuna-fish they gave me. But it would really have to be a whole lot of tuna-fish. Maybe six or seven cans. Then I might think about maybe lowering my guard. Or four cans. Four cans might get me to lower my guard. Maybe.
Sri Lanka and my fine self survived the trip relatively unruffled, but Vladia Velocicat...the pressures of the mission - the most dangerous so far in the V3 saga - took their toll. She was...
What?
(muffled plaintive meowing)
Yes, they did, Vladia.
(muffled response)
Yes. they did. They took their toll.
(muffled response)
Dude, you looked like you were at death's door. Trust me, they took their toll.
(muffled response)
I'm in the middle of an important KittyNet transmission here. On the record, they took their toll. You may file a formal complaint, if you like. But I'm telling KittyNet Command that they took their toll.
Yes. So...yes. Vladia's nose was bloody-raw from attempts to escape her cage. Her fur was ruffled and unkempt. Her eyes, glazed. Her tail, dragging behind her like a piece of wet rope. It was pitiful to behold. It almost made me want to stop thinking about myself for a moment. I think that gives you an idea of the gravity of her situation.
The male human - the one tagged NR729 - came to get us. I pretended to recognize him. Even though I did actually recognize him. But still I pretended. Oh, I'm wily. Oh, so wily.
(muffled grumblig)
Yes, I am Vladia. I'm wily.
We were taken to the new facility, which seems adequate. I did a full inspection immediately, investigating all rooms, checking all possible ingresses and egresses and congresses and extragresses and other kinds of gresses. We slept, greeted the female human (tagged JW821) when she arrived, with feigned affection.
There is only one waste-voiding area, which is going to change, I can tell you. The food is inadequate. But that is par for the course.
Vladia is on the rebound. Her tail attitude is most of the time near 45 degrees, which is remarkable improvement after only two days of recovery. Her nose is an unattractive blotch of scab, but that means it's healing. I...
...What?...
(muffled myerking)
...Sri Lanka has told me to relay a message to you...I...
She says...She wants to deliver the message herself. I...well, I never...
(rustling, static, squeal of feedback)
...myerk...myar...
...myap...myerk...mep...
...myawp...myap...
(rustling)
Please do forgive that. Sometimes she just...I just don't know. She's an inscrutable kitty, that Sri Lanka. Who knows how her mind works.
And so, in conclusion, we can clearly see that The V3 are an asset to KittyNet and that much of their success is due to the skill of their leader, me. Thanks you.
Signing off, this is Cheop The Cat.
End transmission.
posted by Cheop The Cat at 5:23 PM
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