"I always knew being a furry would come back to bite me," Esh said, not seeming to realise the apprentice in her oven was an actual cat and not that crazy guy from the parking lot of the last convention Swiftscout had dragged her to. Suddenly, her apron caught on fire. She screamed, grabbed one of the dining room chairs, and threw it at the window beside the counter. The glass smashed and the chair landed on the manicured grass outside with a comically small thud. She leaped out of the window and began to sprint down the street, leaving Scout to burn.

The whoop of a siren sounded down the road. Cop cars streamed down the road, their lights flashing. Eshek turned on her heel, still screaming, and scrambled back through the window. "STUPID CAT!" she screamed at Buckwheatpaw in the oven as the cops pounded on the front door.

Eshek picked up Buckwheatpaw, holding him and the microwave (did they have microwaves in the 1950s? They do now), the toaster, the small portable Smeg fridge, the entire draw of cutlery, and three frying pans close. "What are we gonna do?" she asked the thin air, panicking. Her wife-husband was currently frozen in place at the dining table, not helping at all. "What are we gonna do?"

Finally, her eyes landed on the roof. Crouching, she gathered up an incredible burst of momentum and launched herself through the ceiling. Plaster rained down onto the kitchen floor as she soared onto the roof outside. Helicopters circled and the gale force winds and sidewards rain battered her dress. On the street down below, Biyuu was battling the elements as she fought to go and buy a sodie. "You'll never get me now, pretty boy," she called down to Peachblush.

The weight of the cannon the little cat had somehow acquired was dragging Eshek down. She ducked to avoid the sink spout and then turned Buckwheatpaw towards her, staring him in the eyes. "Do you trust me?" she asked. "Do you trust me? Good. Go get 'em, tiger." With that, she drew Buckwheatpaw back in one hand in a big preparation - and then hurled him at Peachblush. He flew through the air.

Esh held her breath, chewing on her perfectly manicured red nails, or claws, I have no idea whether she's a person or a cat in this thread anymore, as Peachblush and Buckwheatpaw disappeared into the dust cloud. The camera did that thing where it cut from the fight to Esh and back and forth and back and forth, slowly zooming in closer and closer and speeding up the cuts each time. Finally, Buckwheatpaw emerged. Esh caterwauled and cheered, jumping up and down on the roof. "THAT'S MY LITTLE FREAK!"

Esh, suddenly definitely a cat now, leaped forward and caught Peachblush's paws against the gutters, her claws digging into his soft fur. She leaned in, a grin spreading slowly across her face as her eyes stretched wide. "Long live the- yeeah, no. But in all seriousness enjoy being reunited with Fuzzyheart!" She ripped her claws out of his paws and let him go, waving at him from over the top of the roof. "Bye, bye!"

"Gun?"

The whole fantasy suddenly crumpled in on itself like a secret note passed by a fifth grader being thrown into the trash by a teacher. Esh stood there, wide-eyed and unresponsive, as day became night, her apron vanished, and Peachblush's body began to turn on a light-studded rotating podium instead of lying on the concrete footpath. She sat upright, her forelegs pinned to her side by Buckwheatpaw's hug, and blinked, starting back to reality. Her pupils contracted.

"Cradlegrave," she said, not attempting to dislodge Buckwheatpaw as she moved to peer over the side of the floating pedestal. He was still lying in a crumpled heap. Dance music continued to blare out through the speakers. "You alive down there?"

"Breather, huh?" Esh replied gravely. Sucking in a deep breath, she sent a quick prayer to whatever vengeful gods were listening, asking them to forgive her for what she was about to do, and jumped down mirror by mirror to the glass-covered floor. "Well, there's only one thing for it. Suckfeetpaw, avert your eyes." Scrunching her face up in disgust and squeezing her eyes shut, Esh leaned down over the SwiftClan leader and started to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation. "Ohmygodthisisdisgusting," she mumbled, face still scrunched up.

“Oh thank God,” Esh blurted out, collapsing on the glass-riddled floor. “Let’s never speak of this again. Whatever lip balm you’re using, though... hit me up. Raspberry and cream?”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” She hurried after Buckwheatpaw, cutting off his exit and ushering him back towards Cradlegrave. “You’re not getting out of this just because Biyuu can’t think up anymore rhymes.” Turning to Cradlegrave she ducked under his head and helped him into a sitting position. “Come on, cowboy. We gotta find that gun so you can get to tootin-hootin-shootin’ or whatever it is you did out in the desert.”

The Swiftscout menace seemed to have disappeared... for now.

esh has unintentionally started the world championship of unintentionally kissing every cat on classic. three down.

“Very manly,” she deadpanned. The high wheel. She nodded. At Buckwheatpaw’s less than stellar rhyme, she winced and gave him an apologetic look. “Starting to slow down, aren’t ya, champ?”

Leading the way, Esh stomped over Peachblush’s body and marched outside, leaving the thumping disco music and rave lights behind. With sudden comedic timing, it went from a peaceful, starry night to an instant downpour in a split second. “Fantastic,” Esh said, immediately soaked. She shook herself like a dog, whiskers drooping.