There should've been more to the rest of that, but it appears I'm currently writing the crap out, so I've stopped showing off until I go back to being good. Rest assured, nothing works out as it appears it does.
The One is Devious/amoral. The One has ulterior/hidden motives. The One is complex/secretive.
I came home first today, to stately Black Manor. As usual, I was greet by the dogs, in their usual state of hysterical ambivalence. Overjoyed that I have arrived, Heartbroken that their Mother hasn't.
Amid a flurry of wagging, backing, and belly rubbing, The cat arrives. He sits nearby, and casts a reserved eye over proceedings, forced at one point to side step a wagging tale whilst I scream "WHOSAGOODOGYESYESYESROLLOVERROLLOVERYES".
The cat... Disaproves. He rejoins me in the kitchen, assuming that I will prove to be slightly more dignified company.
"How was your day?" he asks, in our improvised language of body language, posture, and eye contact, augmented with occasional bouts of shockingly brutal violence.
"S'alright" I reply. The cat nods wisely.
"I have something you might like to see" The cat mentions this in passing whilst I flick raisins to him. He catches them with a childish eagerness, but loses interest in them almost immediately. He bats them off the table to the dogs, who snuffle after them gleefully. Words cannot express how much the Cat disdains them for this.
"Come with me, I'll show you." He leads me through the house to the back door, gesturing through the glass with a nod.
A dead shrew lies on the step. He's eaten it's face. It's a little 'quirk' he picked up recently.
"I played with him for hours. The poor fucker didn't stand a chance. I've totally nailed that trick of bouncing the little shits off the glass and catching them again on the rebound."
A scattering of greasy spots on the outside of the glass lend the ring of truth to his words.
"What do you think? Impressive, No?"
I look at him. He's grown to be one of my closest friends recently. We agree on many things, but I can't avoid confronting an essential truth about his character.
He is a sadistic and spiteful fuck.
"Why do you always eat their faces?" As soon as I ask, I know it's a mistake. The balance of power has shifted, and we both know it. He thinks I'm weak.
He shakes his head and looks away.
"You wouldn't understand... No one would. Not until you're actually there."
Later on, whilst I'm watching TV, he jumps onto my belly, making himself comfortable after cuffing the little dog out of the way.
He rests his head on my chest.
"I got plans for this place mate. You watch. I got plans."
The One is Devious/amoral. The One has ulterior/hidden motives. The One is complex/secretive.
I came home first today, to stately Black Manor. As usual, I was greet by the dogs, in their usual state of hysterical ambivalence. Overjoyed that I have arrived, Heartbroken that their Mother hasn't.
Amid a flurry of wagging, backing, and belly rubbing, The cat arrives. He sits nearby, and casts a reserved eye over proceedings, forced at one point to side step a wagging tale whilst I scream "WHOSAGOODOGYESYESYESROLLOVERROLLOVERYES".
The cat... Disaproves. He rejoins me in the kitchen, assuming that I will prove to be slightly more dignified company.
"How was your day?" he asks, in our improvised language of body language, posture, and eye contact, augmented with occasional bouts of shockingly brutal violence.
"S'alright" I reply. The cat nods wisely.
"I have something you might like to see" The cat mentions this in passing whilst I flick raisins to him. He catches them with a childish eagerness, but loses interest in them almost immediately. He bats them off the table to the dogs, who snuffle after them gleefully. Words cannot express how much the Cat disdains them for this.
"Come with me, I'll show you." He leads me through the house to the back door, gesturing through the glass with a nod.
A dead shrew lies on the step. He's eaten it's face. It's a little 'quirk' he picked up recently.
"I played with him for hours. The poor fucker didn't stand a chance. I've totally nailed that trick of bouncing the little shits off the glass and catching them again on the rebound."
A scattering of greasy spots on the outside of the glass lend the ring of truth to his words.
"What do you think? Impressive, No?"
I look at him. He's grown to be one of my closest friends recently. We agree on many things, but I can't avoid confronting an essential truth about his character.
He is a sadistic and spiteful fuck.
"Why do you always eat their faces?" As soon as I ask, I know it's a mistake. The balance of power has shifted, and we both know it. He thinks I'm weak.
He shakes his head and looks away.
"You wouldn't understand... No one would. Not until you're actually there."
Later on, whilst I'm watching TV, he jumps onto my belly, making himself comfortable after cuffing the little dog out of the way.
He rests his head on my chest.
"I got plans for this place mate. You watch. I got plans."
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
"Can you give us an example of your organisational experience?"
"I once organised a fight"
"That's not that impressive.."
"Between 300 hundred men"
"I THOUGHT I'd seen you on the news!"