It had been a busy month for Arnold the Newt. Since moving to a flat above the alley he’d been on a veritable inventing spree. To his fellow inhabitants of the universe he’d invented the biscuit, dogs and making him truly proud, headphones – saving buses and trains everywhere from bad taste. But today he was exhausted and caffeine was on his list of things to invent tomorrow.
He sat in his tiny flat watching rain spatter against his window whilst questioning if the flat really was as genius as the estate agent had made out. I mean yeah, an all-in-one room kitchen, living room and observatory is manageable and convenient but lets be honest for the newt about town it’s a touch cramped. Lost in the mildly damp world outside his window Arnold didn’t hear Carlos the Angry Cat come through highly advanced security and ventilation solution, the door-less doorway.
Carlos watched Arnold, the thought of what he was about to do, causing a huge toothy smile to cascade over his face. Poking him in the side with frankly shamefully slow reactions Arnold looked up sleepy, confused and annoyed.
‘Oh, its you’, left Arnold’s mouth before he could think of anything more offensive
A good bit of well thought out trouble making is appreciated by the residents of Wickam-under-Siege, but as hard and frequently as Carlos tried he was still largely infamous as an idiot. Grabbing Arnold by the scaly newty hand, Carlos took the dazed newt out his flat, down the stairs and threw him in the back of the Al Cameno he’d stolen from the set of My Name Is Earl and shipped back to the UK. Come on, I know he’s an idiot but that’s a little impressive right, anyway I digress.
As Arnold started paying attention to the world beyond the really odd black stain on the inside of the Camino’s door he wondered why the letters CT were floating about his head but mostly noticed Wickam-under-Siege and all its pointy stress factories were disappearing far behind them. Looking at Carlos he realized he was out his tree on weed, nearly too chilled to even consider steering. I don’t think Arnold would deny he was panicking, but luckily as is the way with everyone’s favourite green herb Carlos was soon too hungry to continue and pulled in at a petrol station. No longer angry Carlos the Famished cat rushed into the shop, only to be kicked back out flying into the side of his car.
From the door strode forth a roving gang of ninja mice. Hungrily Carlos took one look before asking,
And what do these cheesy waffers think they’re doing?
They cartwheeled across the car park and surrounded the pair. Silently the leader bowed at Arnold and walked towards him – ninja stars aching to be thrown. Now ladies and gentlemen, never mess with a sleepy newt. Fixing the furry assassin with his big eyes he charged forward. Ducking a blow he uppercut into the mousy nose waiting above followed with a crushing blow to the stomach before something weird happened.
Bernard?’ Arnold enquired of the flailing rodent.
Barnie Arnnie – haha had to be!
Not a cage fighter anymore mate’ Arnold countered, ‘this douche kidnapped me, and worst all woke me up – get him!’
Good, we already had him on our death list for using the term ‘cheesy wafter’. We are not a delicious sounding crisp!
The mice moved in, en-circling the starving yet calm cat. Upon them they had the finest arsenal of weapons from ninja stars to swords. They even had fair trade wooden clubs, when you hit things with them you can really tell the quality y’know. All of these things were to good for Carlos though. One after, each mouse gave him a Glasgow kiss before carrying him into the shop.
Originally posted in a previous blog here.