I’ve looked at one too many Internet cat memes. Now I think it’s time to write a cat story. That’s kind of all I’ve got this month in the way of introduction. Boom.
THE CAT STORY
Once, there was a cute little cat who did cute little cat things all day long and broadcast them all on his very own web channel. This was no ordinary cat (of course); this cat was an evil genius. See, he had rigged his web page to look like it was run by a human. He had no owner, you understand. He was on his own. Just the way he liked it. Creating a public personality through deception, as only an evil genius cat can do. His name was Schmackity Williams. But he was known in the Internet Cat Meme circles by the more aggressive and enigmatic moniker, “Bite Me” Williams.
One day, as Bite Me Williams was playfully chasing a mote of dust through a ray of sunshine, his lackey Speedball (all evil geniuses have at least one lackey, even cat evil geniuses) came running into the room.
“Bite me!” he mewled at the top of his little kitty lungs. Bite Me Williams cracked up. I mean seriously, that was half the fun of having that nickname. Then, realizing his myriad of fans were still watching, Bite Me Williams leaped four feet in the air and twisted over backwards while screaming. Once off camera, he pounced on the keyboard, hit the keystroke that made the computer say “good kitty” in his fake owner’s voice, and eliminated the feed.
“What in the name of all that is furry could be so important tat you would interrupt my live feed, you yarn chaser?” Bite Me Williams said in a low hiss.
“I’m sorry, your Almighty Cuteness,” Speedball said, cowering low to the thickly carpeted floor, “ but we’ve just received word that your Latvian contingent is ready to go.”
“Lolz,” Bite Me Williams purred. He picked up his little cat stuffed animal (his viewers loved it when he played with that thing), and stroked it like a villain in a movie. “Soon, my plans will come to fruition,” he said.
“Begging your pardon, my Majestic Cheezburger,” said Speedball, “but what exactly is the plan this time? I mean, you already have lucrative advertising deals through YouTube, and multiple product endorsements that get you free cat food and litter for the rest of your life. What is this new plan with so many groups throughout the world?”
“How DARE you question me, lackey!” Bite Me Williams screeched. “I can has plans! I can has secrets! Is MAH plan, Speedball, you impudent waste of fur! You do NOT need to know the details!”
“Geez, I was just curious,” said Speedball.
“Oh, all right, I’ll tell you,” said Bite Me Williams.
“Sweet,” said Speedball.
“I currently control all the cat memes online, as you know,” Bite Me Williams explained as the two of them trotted down the hall to the control room (known as the Schmackity Center), “both the good and the bad. Every now and then a human will post an actual video of their actual pet cat, and I need cells worldwide to squash such attempts. Squash them squishier than a cat eating it’s way out of a watermelon.”
“Like terrorists,” said Speedball.
“But much cuter,” said Bite Me Williams.
“Yes, your Fuzzy Aloofness,” said Speedball.
“Well,” the boss continued, “I will now use this worldwide network of cells to take over all web content. Except dog memes. Nobody needs to control dog memes.”
“Of course,” said Speedball.
“Once I control all web content, I control the world. It’s a perfect plan.”
“What will you do once you control the world?” Speedway asked.
Bite Me Williams stopped walking just outside the Schmackity Center doorway. He thought long and hard of how to phrase his answer. Finally, he said, “who cares? I’m just a cat. The world will be my litter box if I like.”
“So, maybe not your best plan,” Speedball observed.
“Look, dumb-ball,” Bite Me Jones said in an uncharacteristic moment of base insult, “the last time a cat ruled the world, he was a dinosaur. And I don’t mean that in an antiquated, cute, metaphorical way. I mean it was literally a dinosaur. I just wanna put cats back on top again. And get rid of dog memes. No one needs dog memes.”
“Of course,” said Speedball.
With that, they entered the Schmackity Center and Bite Me Williams curled up on a big recliner chair he’d installed with a sunlamp providing a perpetual sunspot to recline in. “Get me Terrance on the line,” he said to Speedball. The lackey hit a few buttons on a computer and the speakerphone emitted a ringback tune of “Stray Cat Strut” almost instantly.
“Hello?” said a meek little cat voice on the other end.
“Hey, doll, “ said Bite Me. “It’s Schmackity Williams for Terrance.”
The she-cat on the other end gasped. “Bite Me Williams?” she said.
“One and the same, baby,” he replied. “Now rustle up Terrance, will you, sweetheart? I got a meeting in a minute.”
“Yes, sir! Of course, sir!” she said, and was gone.
“Oh, that Terrance,” said Speedball.
“He’s a goldmine,” said Bite Me Williams.
Just then, a jovial voice came though the speakerphone. “Hey! Bite Me!” it said.
“Terry, baby! You bite me first!” Bite Me Williams replied. Before Terrance could say more (although he knew not to, anyway), Bite Me went on. “Now, look, Terry. That jump into the tub you did last week was priceless. Just gold. Almost better than that train table stunt you pulled a few months back. It’s already just behind that opera-singing cat for most views ever! But we need to up the ante, here, see? And quick.”
“Does that mean the Latvian contingent is ready to go?” Terrance asked.
“You bet your furry little tongue-bathed butt they are,” said Bite Me. “We need that monster truck gag you told me you were working on, and we need it by Thursday.”
“I’m on it,” Terrance said and, as he hung up, they could hear him shut, “hey, Stella! Get your sister on the horn! We’re coming to visit!”
“Perfect,” said Bite Me Williams. “Things are coming together just as I planned. Gad, it’s good to be an evil cat genius.”
“Sir,” Speedball said, “I’ve got the Latvian contingent waiting on video chat five.”
“On screen,” said Bite Me Williams, adopting a regal pose upon his chair.
Almost immediately, an image appeared on the screen of three cats crowded together, all jockeying for front position. “I am the leader!” said one, while the others shouted back, “no, I am the leader!” over and over.
“Latvians,” Bite Me said with a sigh.
“Oh!” one of the Latvians said. “Your High Adorbz-ness! We await your signal! We hang on your every command! We bask in your perpetual sunspot and live to do your–“
“Yeah, yeah, enough of that,” Bite Me snapped. “And the first one of you jackasses who calls me ‘kitteh,” gets slapped onto a ‘Hang In There’ poster, you got me?”
“Yes, your fuzziness,” said another Latvian.
“Good,” said Bite Me. “Now, everything is set. Terrance will post the Monster Truck gag Thursday night, and by Friday morning, maybe early afternoon, we should be ready for your piece of the puzzle.”
“We are ready,” said the first Latvian, “but you still have not told us the details of our assignment.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Bite Me. “I wanted to wait and make sure nothing went wrong before I gave you the last piece. Nothing can stop me from controlling the web now, and then . . . the world!” He threw back his head and laughed maniacally. “We all just need to stay focused, and I can has the world! Now listen closely…”
Suddenly, Bite Me Williams’ voice trailed off. His eyes grew wide. His head snapped back and forth in a quick, obsessed motion.
“My Feline Fealty?” said one of the Latvians.
No response. Still the head moving and eyes shifting.
“Your Fluffitude?” said another Latvian.
No response. Tail flitting, ears back.
“Yo, Bite Me!” said the third Latvian.
With that, Bite Me Williams leaped from his sunspot on hi chair in his control room. It was back, you see. The shiny red dot on the wall. He’d thought it was nothing but a dream the night before, but there it was, as plain as day! And he had to catch it! He HAD to!
After several minutes of seeing nothing on their view screen, the Latvians hung up and figured the mission was off. Maybe Bite Me Williams wasn’t as cool and focused as everyone thought after all. They were cool with it, though, because they all had to poo and wanted try new, more inconvenient spots anyway.
Meanwhile, Bite Me Williams was running around the room like a crazy fool, chasing the mysterious red dot on the wall. “No!” he actually cried out loud at one point. “The Latvians! The assignment!” But he couldn’t stop himself. The draw of that shiny red dot was just too much.
And then it was gone.
“Where did it go?” Bite Me screamed, turning around to search for it. And that was when he saw Speedball standing in the doorway. With a laser pointer and a video camera.
“You!” Bite Me shouted. “You distracted me just when I was making the final arrangements!”
“That’s right,” said Speedball. “And I got the whole thing on videotape. How do you think your adoring public will like it when they see you talking to the Latvians about controlling the world? And then losing your focus right in the middle of making the deal?”
“My public?” said Bite Me. “You wouldn’t!”
“I just did, your High Fluffy FAILURE!” sneered Speedball. “This camera is a live feed! Thanks for trusting me with your passwords for uploads!”
Bite Me roared a menacing (but still pretty cute) housecat roar and prepared to rush Speedball. The lackey raised the laser pointer in the air.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Schmackity,” he said coldly. “One flick of this switch and you are mine to toy with.” Bite Me halted. Speedball set the video camera, still running a live feed, down on the computer desk and then settled himself into Bite Me’s perpetual sunspot on his special recliner. “Ready to dance, monkey?” he said.
“No!” said Bite Me Williams, aware that his internet kingdom was crumbling. “How could you, Speedball? Why? WHY?”
“Because I like dog memes,” said Speedball. And then the laser pointer went on.
Hm. Long story, that. Hope it was worth it. 🙂
See you in seven,