CATNIP

[Beard of Time]

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I'll try to keep this short:

In order to be able to pull this thing off fast and with a mouse, it will be done entirely on Windows XP MS Paint (NO ALIASING!!!1) and in shades of grey.

As you can see from my post count, this is a first for me. Not much more to add to that.

Sillyness is totally ok, but I won't use silly suggestions all the time. Don't ask me to anthropomorphy (anthropomorphize?) the character/s because I won't. Not that you'd ask that, but I won't.

Before we start with this quite engaging story, there is something that needs to be said about the universe. Not that the universe has anything to do with our story, mind you, it doesn't. But still the universe (if you so choose to believe) is only one and it has always been there and will always be there as only one, so everything is more or less connected. Well, not everything, but a good chunk of it is.

Enough of that, the point of this little speech is to explain that, contrary to popular belief, the concepts of probability, statistics and aleatoricism aren't that different from each other in reality. That is to say, one can guess that after a quite loud fart there will be little to none unpleasant smell, while a silent one will require to leave the area for say, "some air". But nonetheless there are loud farts that are smelly, silent ones that are as if they never existed and there are farts that actually don't smell so bad, but not good. And there are also turds that will disappear inside the toilet before you turn around to check on them. But that is another story.



This story, on the other hand, is one of those let's say "odorless silent farts"; it doesn't amount to much, nobody really notices it is there to begin with, yet it is so rare and unique that it is in fact relevant.

This is a story about adventure, about kinship, about the little guy that through hard work and lots of slacking off became "oh that guy" whose name nobody really remembers, from zero to nobody, from now to infinity, this is the story of a life, of your life, of YOUR MOM's life, of something more amazing than a silent fart that doesn't smell but stains your underpants.



This is the story of a cat.

Your cat. I mean, you, the cat.

....

What is your name again?

[Bocaj]

>Greebo

[Fengar]

>Mr.Fluffikins.

[Aelyrin]

> Sillymittens McFlufferbum

[GPP]

> Pawp

[Skull]

> François.

[Beard of Time]

Riiiiiiiight, "François Fluffikins"...

Is that really your name, though? You're not sure you're familiar with it, then again you weren't sure the last fifty times somebody tried to call you by your "name", there was always the off chance that they were calling another cat.



So, François Fluffikins it is, then. You've just woken up from a nice nap on your pillow, at the front desk of GABRIEL'S LAUNDRY SERVICE, next to you are your bowl of food and your toy mouse Ratsputin. You like living in this place, although you can't remember ever living anywhere else. You enjoy the food, sleeping in the dryer basket, peeing inside the laundry machine and sleeping on top of it.

Boy, you sure are hungry, what time is it? Can you even tell time? Whatever it is, it should be time to eat, where is the guy that gives you food? You demand to know immediately.

Your request is met with silence. Oh boy, without the guy, what are you going to do?

[Aelyrin]

> Slap Ratsputin around.

[Fengar]

>Find where the man keeps your food.

[Beard of Time]

> Slap Ratsputin around.

Nothing would give you more satisfaction. You hate that little fuckwit, you've killed it a million times and a half, and the tiny highlander survived all of them. And, on top of that, he is such a freaky douche, his hair is BRIGHT YELLOW! Like, you don't even want to think about what kind of lab he came from.

But right now you have more pressing matters at hand: your stomach. It craves for food.

>Find where the man keeps your food.

THE MAN! That asshole! Always oppressing your freedom, telling you not to piss wherever you want, not feeding you whenever you want. Who does he think he is? Where did he go?

But little do you know, it is Sunday, and Gabriel, the owner of this place, takes Sundays off to do some well-deserved latin-spiced siesta. Eventually you will find out about this, but right now, even the concept of the day named "Sunday" is foreign to you.



After a few minutes of calling and waiting, you decide it's time to take matters into your own hands, you will look for your own food, like a servant.



Where are you going first?

[AlteredAlphabet]

> Try the Break Room. Seems like a likely place to keep cat food. And worse comes to worse, there might be scraps in there for you to snack on.

[SquirrelPants]

> Try the Break Room. Seems like a likely place to keep cat food. And worse comes to worse, there might be scraps in there for you to snack on.

Agreed. However, you may also hit up the laundry room for a piss and a nap.
Or at least just a piss, because you are incredibly angry at this guy and if you can't have food whenever hungry then he can't have decent-smelling clothes.

...


yeah.

[Mirdini]

((Chiming in here to say this looks excellent, keep it up!))

> Head to the laundry room because that's the most likely area for CAT FOOD STORAGE.

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Also CAT PLANET

[Masterweaver]

>Yeah, Break room. That's parity near...

[Bocaj]

>Try the patio

[Fengar]

>Charge into the break room.

[Beard of Time]

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EVERYBODY thanks for your kind words! Today I was bored and went for some animations. And also: CAT PLANET kind of blew my mind.

> Try the Break Room.

Your first thought is to check the Break Room, whatever that is, but on the way there you cook up a plan to teach The Man a lesson, for one does not cross François Fluffwhatever and walks away unharmed. That guy: he's in for a treat.

> However, you may also hit up the laundry room for a piss and a nap. Or at just a piss.

That's right sucka! PISS EVERYWHERE! Let's see how The Man likes it now! He'll learn not to mess with a badass like yourself. You want to bask in the glory of your iron-fist lesson, but the smell is too much even for you, so you should better just go to the Break Room like you originally planned.

>Charge into the break room.

BANZAI!

You're in the BREAK ROOM, this is where you usually hang around, actually, you have no clue why your pillow, bowl and mouse ended up in the reception in the first place. You figure out it's one of Ratsputin's evil plans to slowly drive you crazy, but the joke's on him! You don't give a shit!

Inside the Break Room is a MINI FRIDGE, a KITCHEN SINK, a KITTY CLOCK and a bunch of CABINETS, but no sight of your food.

[Bocaj]

>Have a staring contest with cat clock

[SonicLover]

>Can you open any of the cabinets?

[Danfish77]

>Try knocking dishes to the floor, that will surely get the servant's attention!

[Beard of Time]

>Have a staring contest with cat clock

There is something seriously wrong with that cat. Why is he hanging on the wall? He's not dead, he moves his eyes and tail back and forth all the time. You are often distracted by the swinging movement of his tail, and sometimes you feel like the pressure is too much and it just has to bee your, but that tail, you can never hang on to it.



Usually you wouldn't mind looking at the cat, but today's different, he isn't moving at all. His tail is pointing straight down, the little arrows is pointing at the 3 and the long one at the 11, and his eyes are fixed forward. It's almost as if he was looking at you... is he?

You try to stare him down but he is Just. Too. Powerful. You are no match for him, maybe if you somehow manage to become stronger you'll be able to defeat him. But maybe some other time.

[Xander]

Jump kick that freaky cat.

[Fengar]

>Jump on the counter and knock some dishes down.

[SquirrelPants]

>Retreat! He's too strong!

[Beard of Time]

>Try knocking dishes to the floor, that will surely get the servant's attention!

>Jump on the counter and knock some dishes down.

If you knew what ANARCHY was, you'd be putting it in the middle of the words IT'S and BABY. You jump on top of the counter and bitchslap some dishes like some sort of bitchslap mailman, and all your letters say RETURN TO SENDER, BITCH! The adrenaline pumps all over your body, chaos: you thrive on it.

You admire your work of art on the floor for a second until you notice something, the sink cabinet is a little open. That means there is a two-inch thick door which you can stand on! And man, you LOVE standing on ridiculously thin surfaces.



Careful there, it's a bit wobbly.

>Can you open any of the cabinets?

You can't stand on it for too long before it quickly opens itself and you fall almost face-flat on the ground. Almost. Luckily you are a cat. You are Francis The... no wait, that's not right. Whatever.

OH MAN! THE TRASH BIN! Home of delicious meals your otherwise friendly but now opressive The Man doesn't want and leaves for you to find! Surely there'll be something to eat there! Now to open it, there is a very delicate system of paw-recognition. You step on the lever and prepare for the best scaveng--empty?!?

Oh right! Sometimes The Man takes the trash out to the patio! Oh dude, how could you forget about the patio, you love that place! Bitches go WILD at that place!