Geeklawyer’s last cat died quietly some time ago. She was, apparently, healthy and about 15 years old. Meaner than Geeklawyer she did her own thing: demand food by curling around one’s leg when hungry, but spat furious fire and wroth if approached affectionately at any other time. Cool. Evil. And so very much like Ruthie. (Without the 10 inch dildo, but that’s a reminiscence for another time.)
Then one night she hit life’s lift ‘Basement’ button: a single mewl in the late night and she was gone; while a somnolent Geeklawyer dreamt of 2 year defamation litigation. A cold stiff husk was all that was left come the light of day. Tatiana was her name and Geeklawyer buried her in the back garden.
Joy!! He has seen reports of her resurrected spirit. This is Tatiana reborn: malevolent evil and manipulative. She has returned as Oscar. To wreak death among the elderly infirm and vulnerable. The stupid press may report that she wanders the hospital corridor marking souls, doomed by ill health and longevity, for the grim reaper by curling up on their bed for the night. Anthropomorphic drivel says Geeklawyer. His cat, like Oscar, did this for idle fun. No mere laconic witness but slinking perpetrator of death.
Geeklawyer wants Oscar. He can mark out punters rich for reaping.
And when the day’s work is done he can curl up in Geeklawyer’s lap, as he sits in his swiveling chair. To be stroked as we both await Mr Bond abseiling through the window.
I can’t come!!!...
Re: Ruthie
I await the Fight Club style denouement to this whole saga. Admit it, Geeklawyer, to yourself as well as your public: Ruthie is a figment of your now demented, unhinged imagination. Your schitzophrenia has reached potentailly dangerous new depths, though. Blog-divorcing yourself, setting up a whole new (rather pink, chintzy) website for your now-estranged self and recruiting a whole new personality to your head is going just too far.
You need professional help, and quickly. Although the silence of the new ‘recruit’ may be a sign that you’ve turned the corner, I’m not sure.
If you’re not sure, I know a few people who can do medico-legal reports telling you whatever you like.
FM.
On my honour as a lawyer Ruthie is no figment. Lordy man you’ve seen the bike pics. Though there have been times that, like Scrooge, I wish she were just the result of too much cheese.
the only professional help I need is merely that of a capable leader - such as the wonderfully competent MysteryQC.
you could borrow my precious demon - Pupa. He has a tendancy of maiming the destitute’s gonads, and rubbing himself up against anyone with a bit of dosh.
Yea but, daemon or not, does he carry an aura of doom? A bit of violence to the homeless and downtrodden is all well and good, as is sucking up to the rich, but I want to see the grim reaper following him in train before I would borrow him for my own malevolent designs..
The yearly “Jaws” story, Cats that predict death… silly seasons must be underway.