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PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2000 4:52 pm
  

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Quizzled Cat pushed the Fedora back on his head as he opened the door to his office to lead his latest client to a chair and a waiting saucer of milk.He purred to himself "I might enjoy this case" as he settled down at his desk. He wanted to get down to the facts of the case, but his eyes kept dancing up and down the client before him. She was cool and aloof, but he expected that of a pampered Persian like her, especially a Persian with a pearl and diamond studded choker, and a tail that went from here to there and back again. But, he knew that a pampered Persian and a Tomcat like him would mix like oil and water. Quizzled Cat snapped out of his self quizzling and asked his new client" What can I do for you, Miss.....ummm, I didn't catch your name?"
In a voice that was part Mae West, and part Queen Elizabeth, the unknown Persian replied" My name is not important, what is important is that I know that I can trust you, and that you are as good as your reputation. Can you be, are you?" Quizzled Cat replied"Yes you can, and I'm better that my reputation, now tell me what the problem is, and, tell me your name"............

<center><FONT COLOR="#000080">--- Message edited by Larry on May 08, 2000 @ 06:06 PM ---</FONT></center>


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PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2000 5:15 pm
  

BlunderVirgin

Joined: May 02, 2000
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Location: Raleigh, NC
"My name is...hack, hack, hack, cough, cough...my name is...cough, hack..." and as the hair-ball lodged itself completely in her throat, the Persian Princess fell to floor, dead as doornail.
Quizzled Cat was absolutely perplexed. Who was this beautiful, dead cat in his office? What did she want with him? What should he do?
He knelt beside her furry, frigid, feline form and began searching for something, anything to give him some clue as to what this pussy-cat was all about...


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PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2000 8:18 pm
  

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Quizzled Cat was indeed quizzled, and quizzlement always led him to get in "the zone" as he called it, where he would search for the smallest of clues to crack a case.
He noticed the small packet of rat poison open near the saucer of milk he had prepared for his client. He wondered if this might have had something to do with the demise of his prospective client, but as he was quizzled, he wasn't sure. As he searched the Persians fur for any clues, he found no indentification, but he did find a note, written on a napkin from the Kit-Kat Lounge, that said "Meet me at the Little Friskies factory tonight at midnight, and bring the Maltese Goose, or else". It was signed simply "T".


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PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2000 8:57 pm
  

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In the shadows is was hard to make out Tom's features, he may have been very large or maybe his fur was standing on end, the only way to be certain, was to pounce.
Many a cat would have looked before he leaped but our hero was over the side of the roof long before he noticed


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PostPosted: Tue May 09, 2000 10:30 am
  

BlunderVirgin

Joined: May 02, 2000
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<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Larry:
[...] As he searched the Persians fur for any clues, he found no indentification, but he did find a note, written on a napkin from the Kit-Kat Lounge, that said "Meet me at the Little Friskies factory tonight at midnight, and bring the Maltese Goose, or else". It was signed simply "T".<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

"T?" Quizzled Cat quizzled. Hmmmm, he'd have to find out just who T was and what he or she wanted with a goose. But first he had a posthumous pussycat situation to contend with.
Feeling certain that alerting the authorities to the demise of the Persian Puffball would prove detrimental to his snooping abilities, he decided that he'd put Miss Pussypaws to work. He'd always needed a secretary, anyway.
After arranging the deceased at his desk to give the appearance to anyone trying to peak through the blinds of his office, QC took out a cigar (Cuban Catnip, of course), poured himself a tumbler of his finest tuna tonic and pondered the situation...


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PostPosted: Wed May 10, 2000 5:30 pm
  

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Quizzled Cat was now surely quizzled, and didn't even know where he was, because it seemed that not even the authors of his fate(and this story) knew where he was. Things seemed out of order, and context, even by the standards of a quizzled cat by the same name. Anyway.....
He had heard of this "Maltese Goose" before, and knew it had been stolen from a museum in Egypt during the Dog Wars some 15 years ago, and that it was a priceless artifact that could bring violence in it's wake, for those wishing to possess it. He was to familiar with those times,the Dog Wars, and had given 6 of his 9 lives in that conflict. It brought back memories that were both valued and troubling at the same time.
Cats were Gods in Egypt before the war, but when Cairo fell, that era ended. It was painful to think about, even as Quizzled Cat threw back another shot of tuna tonic, and took a long deep drag on his catnip joint.
All this reminded him of those years, and, there was something familiar about the deceased mystery Persian, and the tale of the Maltese Goose that had him thinking about one particular day in Cairo, during the war. He thought back to the day, when he was to meet her in that little cafe, and how he got there early, and ordered drinks and the two fatest canaries out of the cage that the waiter presented to him.It was to be the perfect evening, but she never showed up..........


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PostPosted: Wed May 10, 2000 5:43 pm
  

BlunderVirgin

Joined: May 02, 2000
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<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Larry:

Quizzled Cat was now surely quizzled, and didn't even know where he was, because it seemed that not even the authors of his fate(and this story) knew where he was. Things seemed out of order, and context, even by the standards of a quizzled cat by the same name. Anyway.....
He had heard of this "Maltese Goose" before, and knew it had been stolen from a museum in Egypt during the Dog Wars some 15 years ago, and that it was a priceless artifact that could bring violence in it's wake, for those wishing to possess it. He was to familiar with those times,the Dog Wars, and had given 6 of his 9 lives in that conflict. It brought back memories that were both valued and troubling at the same time.
Cats were Gods in Egypt before the war, but when Cairo fell, that era ended. It was painful to think about, even as Quizzled Cat threw back another shot of tuna tonic, and took a long deep drag on his catnip joint.
All this reminded him of those years, and, there was something familiar about the deceased mystery Persian, and the tale of the Maltese Goose that had him thinking about one particular day in Cairo, during the war. He thought back to the day, when he was to meet her in that little cafe, and how he got there early, and ordered drinks and the two fatest canaries out of the cage that the waiter presented to him.It was to be the perfect evening, but she never showed up..........<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

He smiled a wistful smile at the thought of her--ah, the hair, the claws, the TAIL. Whatever happened to her? Why had she stood him up. Where had she gone, it seemed as though she had simply vanished from the earth. She had been his oasis of peace in a sea of turmoil and then one day, gone.
He shook himself out of his memories, rubbed his whiskers and stubbed out his smoke. What did the dead cat sitting at his desk have to do with the goose? Why had she come to him? He was unable to put any of it together. Perhaps some answers were to be had at the Little Friskies factory.
The day was getting on and he needed time to prepare a plan for the evening. With the Persian Pussy at this desk, he'd have to find somewhere else to collect his thoughts and create a game plan. He tighten his collar, threw on his overcoat and headed off for the Friskey Whiskers Lounge...


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PostPosted: Mon May 15, 2000 7:45 pm
  

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....As he was walking to the door to meet whatever fate awaited him at the Little Friskies factory, he took one more deep glance at the deceased Persian now sitting at his desk. "Could it be her?" He thought to himself."Could she have changed so much that I would not know her in an instant, or have I changed so much to cause the same thing?".
As was often the case, Quizzled Cat knew no more after thinking than before. He slammed the door behind him, as he walked down the hall spinning his revolver to make sure it was fully loaded , and it's workings smooth.
He settled in to the seat of his 1929 Stutz Bearcat and started the engine, and drove off towards the factory.He knew he had to be sharp when he got there, and he intended to be, but for the half hour drive ahead, he could not help to think more about her, and those times during the Dog Wars , all those years ago. He wondered about the unknown, yet familiar Persian. His mind wandered back to those times as if he were there in the here and now. He had heard rumors about what had ever happened to her, some he refused to consider. But one of them was haunting him now, to the point where he had no choice but to confront it.It was to horrific to consider at one time, but he had no choice now. It was just that he could never bring himself to believe that she, his beloved, could have ever collaberated with the political mastermind of the entire Dog Movement during the Dog Wars.In most decent Cat circles, even to mention the name of the evil Mr. Peabody, Dog of dogs, was enough to have felines faint, and even the most sophisticated Tabby have the hair on his back stand up, and ask you to leave the room, or worse.
Quizzled Cat was putting the pieces together now, and they didn't fit, but he was used to that. The factory was now in view, he needed to clear his head for the task ahead. He drove up, parked downwind of the Little Friskies factory, and pussyfooted to the service entrance..........


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PostPosted: Tue May 16, 2000 6:08 pm
  

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Peabody rolled his eyes. Another of those goofy cats had just strolled by, talking to himself. Peabody could NOT understand WHY the neighbor owned so many of those things. Well, ONE cat was too many, as anyone in his right mind knew. Sure, Catfish was one cool cat, as was Mookie - but there were so many of them in this world, just taking up space, shedding and irritating dogs.

This gang of cats, who "lived with" the "crazy cat lady" had even tried to attack the dogs in the neighborhood, a couple of years ago. The attacks were sometimes direct, kami-catzie hits, but more often were layered in subterfuge. Peabody remembered that one bitch... er, dame cat, Ms. Mieu, who had sat in the growing darkness outside his window... all the dogs had sounded the alarm - causing such a commotion, that the townhouse association had (briefly) considered banning dogs, instead of the evil creatures that had caused the whole problem.

But, Peabody was a terrier, and nothing, if not tenacious. He worked paw in paw with his fellow canines to beat back the hordes of cats, and to save the neighborhood.

Hmmmm.... where was that damn cat going? Oh, into that old warehouse... so, after puncturing the tires on the old stutz, Peabody lifted his leg, relieved himself on the wheel, and trotted off to meet his buddy, Cooder before attending their meeting of the National Association for the Advancement of Cute Terriers.


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PostPosted: Wed May 17, 2000 9:22 am
  

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Quietly... from a tenth story window... a pair of round blue eyes watched the unfolding drama on the streets below. Butch the Conure Parrot had lived a long life, knowing when to speak and when to keep his beak shut... he had escaped from South America many years ago, hitching a ride up north with some wayward cubans heading back to West Meowmi. They took good care of him, and he taught them english in return for a clean perch and lotsa fruit... The events on the street could be useful to him. He would watch and wait...


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PostPosted: Sat May 20, 2000 8:21 pm
  

BlunderVirgin

Joined: May 18, 2000
Posts: 6
Location: Newark, DE
Meanwhile back at the office, Shark the Goldfish was stunned when the long-assumed-for dead Persian Puffball came back for what was undoubtedly her 10th life.

Shark could not believe his eyes as she jumped down from the chair, her diamond collar jingling from the motion.

With a leap to the top of the filing cabinet where Shark's goldfish bowl was placed, the Persian Puffball reached into the bowl, scooped up the fish, and swallowed it whole (as was the customer in those days).

She jumped down, ran to the door, and left.


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PostPosted: Sun Jul 09, 2000 5:45 pm
  

But wait just one minute or two. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that she just couldn't come back to life just like that. You're thinking that you wanna know what's happening at the factory. You're thinking that the parrot is kinda cute (for a parrot). You're thinking that QC is heading for big trouble the minute he steps through whatever door he's going to step through. You're thinking it's time to go to the bathroom since you've been holding it for about as long as you can while reading all this. (SO GO ALREADY!!!!!!!) And now, back to our story in progress......


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PostPosted: Sat Aug 19, 2000 5:03 pm
  

QC silently slipped through the side door away from the street into the building. Service entrances were always side doors weren't they? As he moved forward he could hear the sound of breathing that was not his own. Cats have impeccable hearing and he was quite sure of what he heard. It seemed to be coming from off to his right a ways. Slowly he rounded the corner and saw two figures crouching in the dark peering into the dim light that lie farther within. "Excuse me," spoke QC firmly. With a start the two figures stood up and faced him. "Who are you?" demanded the man.
"I'll ask the questions here," intoned QC. "Who are you? And did you follow me in here?"
"I'm Skip Toomaloo, private detective. This is Legs Akimbo my assistant. And as far as us following you–we were here first."
"Uhh, yes, so you were," burbled QC rather apologetically. "I'm Quizzled Cat. I just left a dead client in my office. I'm what some might call chasing a ghost from my past. I came here because I believe the answers I seek lie within these walls."
"Forgive my partner's shortness. We've been staked out here for hours after Skip got a tip from someone known to us only as Butch. This factory was named and, so, here we are."
"Ms Akimbo, I never make an issue of someone's handicap. Being short is not all that bad. Look at me won't you? Quite cat sized as you can see."
Suddenly Skip froze, quiet. Motioning with his hand to be quiet, he crouched low as if to not be seen. QC and Legs followed suit, although they could not see anybody or thing. Then they heard it, the sound of shoes badly in need of a lube job. The sqeaking grew ever closer...


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PostPosted: Sun Aug 20, 2000 7:55 pm
  

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...squeak! squeak! as the sound grew nearer, it began to sound more and more as though it were leaping toward them...turning they see "jay", a large slightly balding man with joker eyebrows leaping carefully toward them from cement slab to cement slab so as to avoid landing on any cracks. upon arriving at the impromptu team of detectives he turns to qc and says, "i think i have something you might be looking for... (you leprechaun looking cat you,,,and tell me one thing, if you're a leprechaun, where's my pot of gold is what i would like to know, but never mind that)...something right here." and reaching into his pocket, produces a little golden key, then pinched between his thumb and forefinger extends it out as far as possible toward qc so as to have no contact none whatsoever...eeeeasy, eeeeeasy,,,qc takes it, jay releases it, job well done. "well, i'm done here." he nods at qc and tips an imaginary hat to mr. skip toomaloo and then again to ms. legs akimbo and hop scotches away as the unlikely band of investigators look on. once again turning their attention to the key, ms. akimbo notices what appears to be an inscription barely discernible, but appears to say...


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PostPosted: Sun Aug 20, 2000 7:57 pm
  

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..."never odd or even"...


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