The Battle for Mittens!

When you abuse your soft fluffy sweet kitty, you LOSE her, Billy. So THERE. ::snuggles Mittens and brushes her silky perfumed fur, admiring the pink ribbon around her tail and her new pink diamond collar::

Hurling the martini glass across the room billybear shrieks, "ENOUGH!" The stepfordTara model has not worked out. The weeks of practical jokes scattered across the comment section of several blogs have not yielded results.

Throughout the night he paces, his massive intellect working to resolve the problem, "Why does mittens always get stolen right when I need her most? Why are people so cruel to the care bear master race? I missed my last Friday call with Princess, who the hell knows what will happen by the time THIS Friday rolls around. I'm so frustrated, angry, I need that cat, much more importantly I need that call!"

I'm already starting to make dangerous slips. Well there's only one path now, only one way to get my "oh goodie it's my turn to kidnap mittens" cat back!

Bright fluorescent lights blink on across a silent lab. A tiny blue figure, struggling under a mound of books, waddles across the floor into the transmorgifier. The door seals and a few seconds later emerges:

billyPotter the Boy Who Jizzed!

Silently, the robed figure merges with the night.

Standing at the crest of a rocky, windswept hill billyPotter screams out, "LET'S FINISH THIS! RETURN MITTENS TO HER RIGHTFUL OWNER!"

"But I am her rightful owner billy" comes a soft, malevolent (but in a delightful and feminine way) voice from across the way, "you can never have your imaginary cat back!" She cackles in a charming manner.

Cloaked in mystery, the dark (though not in a negative way) Mistress MsTara-ble stands before the meek, humble, soft and oh-so adorable billyPotter, the boy who jizzed.

"Imaginary. There's something there," thinks billyPotter as he replies, "What is it with You and lucky (he tosses a nickel towards lucky and jem, who are sitting on a rock with Princess munching popcorn and avidly watching) that makes you want to torture me so? It's so sweet, You think You know how crazy, how crazy I am!"

"Let's keep Fiona Apple out of this, OK?"

"But it's a great song! You should play it on Your radio show!" Thinking to himself, "Nickel, imaginary, there's something there!"

"FOCUS billy!"

"Yes MsTara-ble. You play with dark powers that I struggle to contain, that I can barely control. With one post I drove MsAva insane with rage. Where is She now? Where?!"

"How would I know?" mutters MsTara-ble, Her eyes gleaming with malice (though a wonderful and diverting malice it is), "You will never possess mittens, NEVER! Don't let me stop your great self destruction. Die if you want to you misguided martyr. I wash my hands of your demolition. Die, if you want to, you innocent puppet!"

"If I can't bring Fiona Apple into the fray then it's no fair bringing in musicals!" replies billyPotter, the thought of rolling his eyes at MsTara-ble never crossing his mind.

"AvaPeniLimpus!"

"WHOA MsTara-ble! That's a killing spell!" shrieks billyPotter as he barely dodges the appalling curse of forever having a limp dick, "Let's continue our casual banter shall we?" What is it about imaginary nickels? his mind frantically circles the riddle.

"SpankoBottumus!"

"Ow, Ow, OUCH, DAMMIT!"

His desperate mind locks onto the solution, "Of course!"

billyPotter grabs his rigid wand, pulling it from his pants. The wand throbs in his sweaty fist, inflamed and engorged it drops pre-magic from its glistening tip, he raises it high, the spell sputtering, and shooting from the pulsating head, thrusting he ...

"OH COME ON!" screams (in the most graceful manner) MsTara-ble, "Do we really need that lame shit?!"

... fires it at mittens!

"It's over MsTara-ble."

Lowering Her wand MsTara-ble says, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, it takes me awhile to figure things out. mittens is an imaginary cat, MY imaginary cat. She lives in my head and will continue to do so until billy ceases to function. No one, not even a Mistress as powerful as Yourself can take mittens from me. One day I may choose to give mittens away, that day has yet to come. Until that time whatever mittens You possess is YOUR mittens, not mine," smiling softly billyPotter nods toward his cat.

mittens™®

Gently and with great understanding MsTara-ble vanishes into the night.

Tufts of kitten hair float gently through the night breeze as owner and pet are happily reunited.