Page 36 of Fish and Chip: Nine Lives One Murder
I attempt to match Fish’s sleek, intimidating stride, but let’s be honest—I move like a beach ball in a wind tunnel. Still, I puff out my chest and channel my inner authority while trying my hardest not to look like an orange bowling ball.
Greetings, fellow feline,Fish begins with formal authority.I am Fish, and this is my associate, Chip. We come bearing an opportunity for employment.
Whiskerface eyes us like we’re offering expired tuna.
You two look awfully clean for alley cats.His voice carries a rough edge as if he’s had to fight for every meal.What’s the catch?
No catch!I interject, unable to contain my excitement.Just mice! And rats! And more mice! Possibly cheese! Potentially funnel cake! It’s like winning the lottery, but with more rodents!
Fish shoots me a look that could freeze a flame, but I’m too excited to care.
What my enthusiastic colleague means,Fish mewls through gritted teeth,is that Huckleberry Hollow Wonderland is experiencing a rodent uprising. We’re assembling a specialized feline unit. Room, board, snacks, unlimited vermin—are you in or are you out?
Whiskerface lifts one mangled ear.Define unlimited.
Popcorn carts, churro fallout zones, the Great Turkey Leg Emporium—I start ticking off with my claws.
Fine,he growls.But if anyone puts a sweater on me, I walk.
Noted,Fish says.But you need to pull your weight. We’ve got an infestation of epic proportions,Fish confirms while clawing at the air.We’re talking mice, rats, possibly some kind of superrodent that I’m not entirely sure is native to this planet. The food court alone could keep a small army of cats busy for months.
What’s the hierarchy?Whiskerface asks, because apparently, even stray cats understand office politics.
I am the supreme commander,Fish announces without hesitation.Chip here is my lieutenant?—
I’m a lieutenant?I practically bounce with excitement.Do I get a badge? Can it be bacon-shaped?
—and we’re looking for capable soldiers to form the Feline Extermination Force.She shoots me a look that could slice like a bullet. She’s good, I’ll give her that.
The what now?Whiskerface’s ear twitches with what might be amusement.
It sounded very official when we came up with it,Fish defends.The point is, we need cats who can handle serious rodent combat. Are you sure you’re up to the task?
Whiskerface considers this for a moment.What about the hoomans? They okay with us moving in?
Our hooman, Josie, specifically authorized this operation,Fish says proudly.She’s the park manager, and she understands that desperate times call for desperate measures.
Plus, she gives excellent ear scratches,I add.And yesterday, she let me lick her ice cream cone. Well, I didn’t exactly ASK permission, but she didn’t stop me either, which is basically the same thing as saying yes.
Like I said, I’m in,Whiskerface decides.But I’ve got conditions. I work alone, I don’t share kills, and if anyone tries to put a collar on me, I’m out of here.
Completely reasonable,Fish agrees.Now, do you know of any other cats in the area who might be interested in joining our cause?
There’s a calico named Patches who hangs around the dumpster behind the pizza place. She’s small but vicious—took down a raccoon twice her size last month. And there’s this black tom called Shadow who thinks he’s some kind of ninja.
Noted,Fish says, then turns to me.Next stop: the dumpster behind the pizza shack. I heard there’s a calico there with anger issues and a strong left hook.
Sounds like my type.I grin.
We split up—Fish vanishing like a small furry ninja, and me… well, I mostly just waddle.
Behind the pizza shack, I spot a vicious-looking calico sharpening her claws on a soggy cardboard box. She hisses at me before I even introduce myself. It’s love at first sight.
Hi! Are you Patches? We’re building a mouse-hunting task force. There’s food. There’s shelter. There are rodents begging to be conquered.
Who’s we?she growls.
I’m Chip. Fish is the brains. I’m the snacks. I mean, the charm. No, wait—I shake it off.We need you. Your claws. Your vibe. Possibly your terrifying energy.
