National Young Writers’ Month – Day 16

I returned home last night after catching up with an ex-coworker for a few drinks to find my internet working. For how long? Well, not long enough. It wasn’t working this morning when I awoke and I’m currently in a study carrel at uni typing this.

So here’s an update either way. I went back to the first piece I posted in my last entry and edited and added to it.

THE PAWED, THE PUFF AND THE PASTRY

‘Twas another lazy Sunday afternoon in the sleepy backwater town of Mobius 8, Mars. Mobius 8 was a forgotten town by Martians and Earth-refugees alike. It sat in a canyon full of jagged rock facings that blocked out natural sunlight for at least a quarter of each day.

Madam LeMieux, a croissant, had just finalised an agreement with the largest mining company on Mars, ending months of speculation about the potential future of Mobius 8 amongst its community.

Now, this move did not go unnoticed by her arch nemesis Staypuff, who was steadfast in his ways yet squishy to the touch, and was of the opinion that the last thing Mobius 8 needed to be was a mining town.

Y’see, it might have been forgotten by everyone, but Mobius 8 was rich in a rare iron ore, a resource that could be used to manufacture all types of industrial machinery. The largest claim laid just a 5 minute walk from town, but the bulk of the ore lay some 20km underground, meaning the dig would be costly and very distracting for the townsfolk of Mobius 8.

The issue, of course, was that the downfall of Earth was due to mankind’s inability to adapt to the need for sustainable energy sources. The freshly colonised Mars, however, was set up to be the exact opposite – environmentally friendly and relying on alternative energy technology.

The environment itself may have been harsh, red deserts as far as the eye could see, mountainous terrain that was near impossible to climb and storms that were as unpredictable as the effect on certain ‘species’ when they migrated to Mars. Marshmallows, croissants and cats were all blessed with the ability to speak. Marshmallows and croissants developed limbs and cats were now easily able to walk on their hind legs.

The act of toasting marshmallows became listed as a war crime now that marshmallows could communicate their pain effectively. However, this developed a black market for the affluent to attend ‘toasting’ parties, where poverty-stricken marshmallows would allow themselves to be slowly toasted and nibbled on.

Staypuff had established himself as a champion for marshmallow rights and a staunch advocate for keeping Mars ‘green’ as it were.

These two individuals had clashed on plenty of topics over the course of their respective stays in Mobius 8 and it seemed like they were set on a course that could only end in one of them being dead.

What they weren’t counting on, however, was the arrival of The Cat With No Name.

The Cat With No Name rode into Mobius 8 on horseback at high noon and hitched his horse to the pole outside the 8 Saloon. After a long ride, he dismounted, licked his left paw and then got down on all four legs and stretched out in that all-too-feline way.

The dank air in the 8 reeked of dried whisky and blood-stained hairballs. Marshmallows and croissants alike knew better than to visit this here establishment. He walked upon me with the brim of his hat lowered, covering his eyes.

“What’ll it be?” I asked.

“Two paws of milk with a shot of your oldest whisky.” He said as he took a stool.

“Wasn’t it proven y’all are lactose intolerant?”

He removes his hat and places it beside him on the bar, his deep jade eyes flashed before me as a shimmer of light caught them.

“Innit customary to believe that I am always right?”

“Well, fair enough. Just don’t expect to be fixin’ a bed here this evening. I ain’t cleaning that up.” I slide his beverage to him and before I can say ‘boo’ it was down the hatch.

“Another. No litter troughs?”

“Oh, we got one alright. But it’s out back a little ways away.”

“I see. Any particular reason?”

“Too many catfights indoors, let alone someone get jumped when they’re scratching litter.”

He lets out a low purr to indicate acknowledgement. “I wasn’t planning on staying too long here, anyways. I’m just getting the lay of the land, seeing if there are any pests that need to be dealt with.”

“A bountyhunter, are you?”

“Nope. I just work for money. That’s all. Work differs some, money don’t.”

“Well, if you’re no good, I’d be thanking you to move on. The streets around here about to get redder than they ever been.”

“How much for a week?”

“Now, I said we don’t welcome trouble here…”

“You might not welcome it, but it sure as shit has a habit of ending up on your doorstep. Here’s what I think is fair.” He slides over a small bag filled with gold coins.

“That’ll do.”

“So, tell me more about Mobius 8…”

 

Madam LeMieux was sipping the finest tea on Mars on the top floor of her mansion at the other end of town. One of her most trusted servants, a human named Peter, had laid eyes on The Cat With No Name and wasted no time passing on the news.

“You say he looks battle-worn?” she asks, taking another sip.

“Yes, ma’am. Eyes as green as grass. Didn’t get to see his nails, though. Not sure if he’s had them plucked out like so many others.”

“Interesting. Maybe we should invite our newest arrival over for supper this evening. Go and fetch him. Go with two of our biggest guards in case our guest of honour should choose not to accept my kind invitation.”

 

Staypuff was preparing to be interviewed by a local journalist about his plans to stop Mobius 8 from being turned into a mining town when he heard of the arrival of The Cat With No Name. Staypuff’s loyal human sidekick, Ronald, had seen him sitting at the 8 drinking.

“He don’t look like most felines. There’s something about him. You should talk to him. I think we can hire him to take care of that no-good French baked good once and for all.”

Staypuff ponders this by running his hand across his well-rounded chin. “I don’t condone violence against others. I’ll investigate this newcomer and see what his story is, however.”

 

The Cat With No Name continued drinking at the 8, when Peter and two guards thicker than a red oak came lumbering in. Peter spoke directly to me.

“Barkeep, get our feline friend another round on me. Be sure to keep his whistle wet. What brings you to Mobius 8, traveller?”

“Work.”

“Well, there’s plenty of that around here. What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Peter and the two guards laugh heartily. “Apologies, friend. Couldn’t resist. You got yourself a name?”

“Funny. Last guy who asked my name had his throat clawed out.”

The two guards tighten up, moving towards The Cat With No Name. Peter holds them off.

“Well, now, there’s no need for that kind of talk. I don’t mean you no harm, I just wanted to invite you to supper to be the guest of her grace, Madam LeMieux.”

“Madam LeWho?”

“LeMieux.”

“LeWhat?”

“Le-Me-you. You can have as many saucers of milk as you please if you join us.”

The Cat With No Name lifts his left paw and extends his long middle claw. The two guards rush him, but by the time they hear a shrieking hiss their eyes have been scratched out and the two guards are screaming and rolling around on the ground in pain.

 

The Cat With No Name approaches Peter, licking blood from his paws.

“I’ll let you keep your throat so you can tell LeMoo I got no interest in being somebody’s pawn. Furthermore, my actions can attest to the fact that I don’t like people whose words are emptier than their presumed intentions. Now get.”

Dang it. And to think, this is day one of seven.

To be continued…

I’m going to continue adding to this, but I may hold off on posting more of it. I’ve got my duration set (one week) and I decided to change a few details, such as the croissant being a female lead character and making the narrator the bartender from the 8.

I think before I write anymore of it, I’ll plot out how I want the week to play out with all the characters.

I’ll have another National Young Writers’ Month entry for you all tomorrow, hopefully. There’s an egg of an idea that cracked in my brain and is now leaking out of my ears. Or something. Once again, any feedback (positive or negative) would be welcomed!