Tink of Doom!

Today is a many splendid thing (pauses to ponder such a weird thing coming from my mouth then shrugs). The sun is hidden somewhere behind the greying clouds that threaten to drop water as soon as I step forth from my house. I wonder if I race to my car if I’ll make it before I get drenched then figure..eh. Nothing I really want to do outside my own home at the moment. Instead I debate reading a book or cleaning out the garage (something that hasn’t been done in years) and surprise…the book won out, so I grab a Coke, a bowl of popcorn (kettle corn cause I just love the sweet flavor) and my fave blanket and recline on my couch to enjoy a story of a psychometric thief (natch) who now works for the good guys. I’m really enjoying the peace and quiet, my toes curled in toasty warm socks and munching on some buttery sweet goodness when the first sound reached my ears.
Tink, tink, tink.
The cat laying by my feet stills, her ears perking up and eyes slowly radiate toward the back hall.
Tink, tink, tink.
The light ringing sound gets closer then stills as the small furry body near my feet stiffens as if ready to bound off. Hiss, grrr, then a crash and the chase is on. The Tink of Doom has arrived, the Great Destroyer is on the loose. Streaking out from the back hall is a small bundle of black fur closely followed by one of white with dark patches. My black cat runs behind a chair but the Destroyer is hot on her tail, bounding over the furniture with the grace of a hunter he claims to be, both cats are racing but only one will win. Quickly, the little black one spies me nustled in my little corner of the couch and sprints off, seeking sanctuary, bounding on top of me and quaking in terror as the soft sounds of tink, tink, tink follow. Soon over the back of the couch the Destroyer appears, smiling down at me as his yellow eyes glitter in sadistic amusement and then he spots the grey (for the black is now hiding under the blanket with me).
I try to warn him away, but as any typical male, they never listen, instead he stalks triumphantly across the blanket to his new victim, ignoring my pleas for him to knock it off, only to come claw to nose as the grey finally has had enough of his games. Instead of cowering in fear as my little black cat was doing under the blanket, my grey flashes a seething glare that was sharp enough to peel paint off of any building and waits for the bell wearing bully to approach her once more. Does he do it? Could he be that stupid to approach a veteran fighter and hunter?
Hell yes…with a hardy hell yes! This mighty terror of cat land leaps on Ms. Bitch, face on and latches on to her back, smiling gleefully the whole time. He loves a challenge, uncaring that she does not wish to participate in his game.
And the fight ensues…


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