All is lost cried Arthur, as he wiped the feline spittle from his now ruined paisley tunic. Mrs Slefton picked up the kindle of kittens and walked, like a woman prisoner on her way to play badminton, towards the kitchen and the pre-heated oven that awaited them.
“Tardy…Tardy…Tardy…Tardy…”, at least the Tardionator is still running thought Peralopolies, as he tried simultaneously to lower his pants and open the now stiffened Menstral valves, of both the Dayometer and the Weekapitor.
Lupin the cat was now almost entirely made of numbers: His left and right eyes, were the numbers 4 and 567.894349 respectively, his tongue was 0.724, ears were both 19, his nose was 789463.1, legs were 3, 76, 100000019287346478393.20384762337r and 14 and his innards were oscillating between 56 and 58. The rest of his body parts were fractions of 5, with his tail being 2.5.
Mrs Slefton placed the kittens in to her best oven-proof dish, which she had pre-buttered and lined, as per Arthur’s instructions and Peralopolies’ diagram. The little kittens looked up at her, with a disturbing mixture of sympathy and complete understanding, as she placed them gently on to the middle shelf and then pushed them back, into the now roasting oven.
Three hours later Mrs Slefton re-opened the oven but found no sign of the kittens. It was just as Arthur had predicted and Peralopolies had shown on his diagram; scratched into the enamel interior surface of the oven, were numerous pictures of kittens in hats and some of the most beautiful two-point perspective renderings of old provincial Scottish hospital wards, that Mrs Slefton had ever seen.
“It worked Arthur, it worked!”
Cartoons and things by Simon French