Fryday Nite

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Fryday Nite

Well what a fine time we had on Friday night, mm. Pûnkass was a little late coming to pick me up because he lost track of his time travel clocl. I was quite worried at one point because I thought he might be having trouble with his Gooster 2000, but no, Gordon was just being as unruly as ever. Rod the blue jellyfish is getting used to the layout of Trout Town now, so doesn’t have to check his A-Z quite so often now and of course Fluffy Monkey just enjoys the scenery as they all go gadding about on the way to my house, mm.

The sushi bar we all went to for dinner was all a whirl! It was over and done with before I knew it, the paparazzi didn’t get a look-in fortunately. We all wanted to make haste to the Hot Paws Night Club, mm.

And by the time we got in the club! Well!

* hands on hips *

King Muffins and Queen Kirsch were so sozzled on the milkweiser and nip that all they could do was prop it down, because they were complaining that the bar was swimming all over the place (and they both saw this so it must be true).

Easy Pussy got a jolly good discount on the entrance fee because she’s heard that the seating arrangements weren’t too good, so she brought her own chair.

Well, then Dancing Queen comes on and up I got to have a dance, like a squirrel on heat I was, waving my tail here and there, singing like a banshee, I quite forgot myself, mm. Muffins thought he was hallucinating at this point, seeing me dance to the Abbanuss, when I’m supposed to be in a fake punk rock band, mm. They were all agape, I tell you.

Well then, whilst everyone was agogging, our new friends Baghera and Wiccapoo turned up. They were a little tentative at first but as soon as the song had finished I went over to them and welcomed them warmly and they soon felt right at home. Their tails shot upwards to the skies in their happiness to be with all their new friends. They weren’t sure about the bright lights of the discothèque though and found themselves a nice spot in the darkened conoodling corner.

Oh! And just when my favourite song came on by the Ratbags, there was such a kafuffle!

A dratted cat burgular had got past the bouncers, he’d spiked their milk with some nip and slipped past them when they were dabbing at the tail of some young sez kitten, mm.

This cat burgular went right up to the sozzled Miss Kirsch and stole her handbag good and proper from right under her nose. Well! King Mikey was having none of that, no he wasn’t! As quick as a cheetach and fast as a shot of tequila, he was after him and with his vigour he decked the cat in no question (for we all saw it) with his No Can Do marshall arts skills, mm

Mr O bravely guarded the cat nip stash in the absence of King Mikey.

And back came our hero of the night with Queen Kirsch’s pride and joy, who by this time had sobered up quite a bit, what with all the commotion.

In an attempt to lighten the mood and tension in the atmosphere, King Mikey teased Queen Kirsch and dared her to dab at Mr O’s headdress. Some of us got up to dance to the Pumpkin Pilchards in an attempt to work off some of the excess adrenaline. But Mr O couldn’t be roused by Queen Kirsch’s attempts at merriment, no, for he was totally transfixed by Casey Metal Mistress’ moshing moves.

And you should have seen Pûnkass dance, he is a sight for sore eyes, just looses himself in the music, no, he is the music, mmmmm.

*starry eyes glaze over*

Then it was time to go home. We all bid our farewells and made our respective way back to our palaces and abodes. I had been given a warning by my Dad not to have too much to drink this night, because he didn’t want me howling outside all night because I couldn’t find the cat flap. So I arrived home at a respectable hour and tucked myself up on my radiator bed for the night.

Well, you’d think that was it wasn’t it. But no. There was a knock on my door this morning, just as I was on my way out to go shopping with Miss Casey. It was the police, holding a photograph of CCTV footage. They asked me if I knew who this was? I said no, and shook my head with all the feigned innocence I could muster. But then King Muffins Mum came round to tell me that he’d come home with a traddif cone on his head and what were us kitties up to last night? She didn’t look very happy, no, and flounced off all of a dither.

Anyway, the breaking news as I fondly scribe my words of jiggerypokery, is that Muffins has buried the cone in his back yard to cover his tracks, so hopefully that’s the last we’ll hear of that one, till next week maybe.

*wipes perspiration from brow*

Pounce to Next Shenanigan –—>

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More Adventures and Shenanigans

The Mind Body Spirit Festival * Outings two Variuss Plaices and Whotknot * Paris *

Kitty Institute Charity Fete * Nites Owt * The Dog House * Shopping Trip to Milan *

Muffins Ford Clinic * A Bit of Culture * Oh Dear * Paw Muffins *

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Pics by Sims/Scozz/Devonx unless otherwise indicated

Thanks to Lee and all of Pûnkass and Ellie's friends for their inspiration!