I've been working on this story - it's still not complete! I started updating it again yesterday; last time was last year December!
Anyway, here you go... as it appears from Fanfiction.Net...
A few notes: Lola's way of speaking is taken directly from the show, and as for that one scene where Cat wears a mustache... the accent he puts on is bad on purpose. So don't yell at me, please? >.<;
CatDog, in: “Duet or Die”
By Melissa E.M.
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Disclaimer: CatDog and all related intellectual properties belong to Nickelodeon and Peter Hannan Productions. If CatDog belonged to me, I’d be a very, very happy fangirl. But I don’t own CatDog. I do, however, own a collection of CatDog memorabilia that I would never part with and hope only to add to. This work of fiction is for non-profit and for entertainment purposes only. If Viacom, the company that owns CatDog, wants to sue me for any reason, I have only this to say: you already own Nickelodeon, MTV, MTV2, Spike TV, CBS, Paramount Pictures, TV Land, Nick at Nite, Showtime, VH1, Infinity Radio, CMT, UPN, Simon and Schuster, and goodness knows what else. You also own Ren and Stimpy, much to the frustration of John Kricfalusi, the creator who you so unmercifully screwed over. If you feel the need to own my soul as well, you’re a very sad bunch of corporate fatcats if I ever saw any. Also, Tunya Felina, Biscuit Canino, and other characters not owned by Nickelodeon are owned by me and me only. So, paws off!
Author’s Note: Ah, I love this story! At the time I’m writing this note, “Duet or Die” is incomplete. However, with enough encouragement from readers, I should be able to complete it and write its sequel. Yes, there is already a sequel being planned! But I can’t write the sequel if I don’t know what happens beforehand. So if anyone has any suggestions for this story’s continuation, kindly share them with me. And criticize me like hell. However—I must say this: DO NOT FLAME ME BECAUSE THIS IS A CATDOG STORY! I know the show isn’t the most-loved in the world, but please refrain from being trolls. If you truly hate CatDog, don’t read this story. If you do read it, remember that it was your decision, and therefore, you have no reason to flame me on the sole basis that this is about CatDog. Okay? Okay.
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Chapter One: “Rotten, Rotten Rancid”
“Hello, Buffy? Could you have some champagne sent up to my desk, please?... Thanks, Buffs.”
Rancid Rabbit hung up his office phone and sighed in content. His latest business deal was going through without a hitch so far.
“My music company, Rancid Records, made a smart move in hiring two certain fabulous female stars,” he chuckled to himself.
He picked up a magazine from his desk and gazed at the cover, which depicted a blonde cat beauty in a little red dress, and a female hound with auburn hair, wearing a backwards blue cap, blue sweatpants, and a white t-shirt.
“Tunya Felina, and Biscuit Canino,” said Rancid proudly, as if they were his daughters. “The world’s biggest diva rivalry! And it’s making me filthy rich.”
He put the magazine down, then rose from his desk and walked over to the opposite wall, where there hung wooden plaques bearing gold records on them.
“Aside from Tunya’s pop albums going gold twice, and Biscuit’s latest R & B tracks hitting platinum, their merchandise sales are through the roof from their fans trying to prove their superficial loyalty!”
Rancid rubbed his chin in thought.
“That loyalty can get so strong that their respective fans can cause riots... talk about publicity! The latest fight in Farburg alone gave Rancid Records a couple billion’s rakings in royalties! So imagine what we could earn if we set the stage for the biggest riot that either any Tunya or Biscuit fans have ever seen.”
He gave an evil cackle.
“Nearburg had better get ready to rock—because our divas are having a duet concert
together that can only end in disaster. Hahahaha!!”
Chapter Two: “Feuds, Fair Maidens, and Fowl Felony”
In the home of CatDog, our favorite bicranial quadruped was lounging on the couch, staring at the same magazine cover Rancid had.
“I don’t believe it, Dog! Tunya Felina, herself, in our town!”
Cat hugged the magazine cover to his chest.
“Oh, it’s a dream come true! That beautiful woman, mere feet away from me... I can see it now.”
Cat imagined himself at the upcoming concert, sitting in the front row, handing a rose to Tunya Felina, who gasped in delighted surprise and kissed his cheek in thanks.
Cat ended his fantasy with a long, dreamy sigh. “Bee-yoo-ti-ful!”
“Yeah, Tunya Felina’s cool, but Biscuit Canino... awoooooh!”
Dog snatched the magazine from Cat and cradled it like a baby. “It has been a dream of mine to see Biscuit in person since I heard her first hit single—‘My Doggone Baby.’ Oh, my doggone bay-bee...” Dog began singing.
Cat, not wishing to hear his brother’s lovely voice at the moment, took the magazine back, interrupting him. “Um, yes, that’s a... um... great song, Dog, yeah, really fabulous.”
Dog grinned obliviously. “Isn’t it, though? Man, we really should get tickets to see that concert, Cat. We’ll get to see the both of them!”
Cat frowned. He liked the idea of seeing Tunya perform, but not alongside Biscuit Canino, of all people.
“But Dog... doesn’t it bother you that the two of them are... well, you know... mortal enemies?”
Dog burst into laughter.
“Oh, Cat! You’re exag—eggsag—er—that’s silly! They work at the same record company! I’m sure that they’re really good friends.”
“But, Dog, haven’t you heard about the riot in Farburg?”
Dog rolled his eyes. “Puh-lease, Cat. Those are the fans fighting, not the singers!”
“That is a pretty good point,” Cat admitted.
He sighed. “It’s just that I’m not so sure I want to see Biscuit Canino performing with Tunya.”
Dog gasped. “What?! CAT!”
“I’m sorry, Dog... but can I help it if I think that Tunya’s a better performer?”
Dog growled at his brother. “Tunya is NOT better than Biscuit Canino! You take that back!”
“No, I won’t take it back. I’m entitled to my opinion,” said Cat indignantly. He gasped as Dog snatched the magazine from him again. Dog pulled out a marker, and scribbled on it as he hid the magazine from view. Then he shoved it back to Cat.
Tunya’s beautiful face now sported a sloppy mustache and a black pair of glasses.
Cat’s voice became dangerously low. “Oh, so you want to play games, huh? I’ll show you!” He grabbed the marker from Dog, and hastily scribbled on the cover. He held the magazine up for Dog so he could view his handiwork. “HAH!”
Biscuit’s face now had thick eyebrows and a beard.
Dog began growling again, looking as though he might explode from anger. “That’s it! Now you have crossed the line!”
He lunged at Cat, who also looked rather angry, but he missed, and landed on the floor. Cat then pounced on top of Dog, and the two of them rolled about the floor, fighting like... well, cats and dogs.
They were so busy tearing each other apart that they failed to notice Winslow come out through his door and watch them in amusement.
“Heh-heh! Let me guess—it’s that concert coming up, right?”
“Winslow, Cat thinks Tunya Felina is better than Biscuit Canino!” Dog yelled, pinning Cat to the floor.
“Well, she is!” Cat yelled. “So there!”
Winslow shook his head. “Meh, youse two are no better than a couple of babies. I happen to be in the music biz, remember? I can tell you for sure who the best singer is!”
Cat and Dog paused and stared at Winslow. Dog let go of Cat, and helped him up. “Really?” asked Cat.
“Yeah. It’s neither of ‘em!”
“Huh?!” cried CatDog.
“But Winslow, we thought—” Dog started to say.
Winslow laughed. “The best singer can beat your two divas any day! Y’see, I was down at the club the other night...”
“Cue the flashback!” yelled Dog, right in Cat’s ear. Cat rubbed the inside of his ear with a finger as the flashback began.
At a snazzy, miniature-esque club called The Mouse Hole, Winslow and whole bunch of other rodents sat at candlelit tables before a performing stage. On the microphone was a familiar-looking purple rat girl with black hair and beady eyes, wearing a pretty green dress.
“The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly passé.
The glory that was Rome is of another day.
I’ve been terribly alone and forgotten,
So I’m feeling kinda rotten.”
Winslow sighed wistfully as he listened to the crooning voice of Sadie Linkletter.
“I left my heart in Nearburg.
High on a hill, it calls to me.
To be where little compact cars
Crash on the boulevard!
Though sounds of barking dogs fill the air,
I don’t care, I don’t care.
My love waits there, in Nearburg.
Blue and big-nosed is he.
When I come home to you, Nearburg,
Your golden blue boy will shine for me!”
There was a ton of applause, especially from Winslow, who stood on his chair and whistled to get Sadie’s attention. She looked at him, surprised, then came down from the stage, smiling hugely.
“Winslow?! Winslow, it’s you! What are you doing here?”
“I came here to hear the voice of an angel. And it looks like I got my wish.”
Sadie blushed bright red. “Oh... Winsy!”
She grabbed him and gave him a huge kiss on the lips, then sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder. Winslow held her tightly, as if he didn’t ever want to let go.
“End flashback!” yelled Dog. “Wow, Winslow... are you sure she was singing about you?”
“Of course she was! Who else do you know in Nearburg that’s blue and has a big nose?” said Winslow, irritated.
“Hola, CatDog!”
Cat grinned. “I don’t know, but I do know someone who’s purple with a big beak. Hello, Lola!”
The yellow-bellied whippoorwill fluttered in through the window and onto the floor. “Hola! I hear you’re interested in going to the upcoming concert, yes?”
“Mmm-hmm, we sure are!” said Dog. “That is... if Cat doesn’t still think Tunya’s better than Biscuit.”
“Now don’t start that again!” Cat snapped.
“Muchachos, muchachos! Stop fighting!” Lola begged. “The reason I came here is to give you these.” She pulled out a pair of tickets from her dress and handed them to Cat.
Cat’s eyes widened. “Tickets to the concert?! Lola, you didn’t!”
Lola chuckled. “I won them from a radio contest. I won four tickets, and you two now have two of my spare ones.”
“Wowie kaboodles! Muchos gracias, Lola!” cried Dog. “This is the greatest thing you’ve ever done for us!”
“Anything for my amigos!”
Cat looked at Lola slyly. “So, who’s the fourth ticket for, Lola?”
Lola averted her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you won four tickets. You gave us two, which leaves two left for you. You only need one ticket. So who’s the fourth ticket for? A date?”
“Um... I, uh... I sort of... sold it.”
“WHAT??”
Cat fell over in great surprise. “You sold the ticket?! On the street?!”
Winslow grinned and walked away. “Hoo-boy... I’m outta here.”
Dog looked puzzled. “What’s wrong, Cat?”
Cat swallowed loudly. “Dog... what Lola did, selling that ticket, it’s... illegal.”
Dog gasped. “ILLEGAL?! As in, ‘you’re under arrest,’ illegal?”
“I didn’t know what else to do with the ticket! If I gave it away for free, everybody would have killed me to get it! I gave it to the highest bidder...” said Lola.
“Lola Caricola, I thought higher of you than that!” Cat reproached her.
Lola began to cry. “I know, I know! I’m sorry! Please, don’t tell anyone on me! Por favor, Gato! Please, Cat! Please...”
Dog looked at Lola sadly as she wept. He took out a handkerchief and handed it to Lola, who blew her beak into it. “Aw, don’t worry, Lola. What you did was wrong... but we’re you’re friends, your amigos. Don’t worry, we won’t tell. Right, Cat?”
Cat seemed reluctant. He frowned and crossed his arms. “Humph.”
Dog glared at him. “Oh, come on, Cat! She did give us those tickets.”
Cat’s expression softened. He looked at Lola, who was still crying, and he felt guilty.
“Well... okay. We won’t tell.”
Lola stopped crying and looked up at Cat. “Y-you mean it? Oh, gracias, CatDog!”
“De nada, Lola,” said Dog cheerfully. “Thanks for the tickets!”
“Yeah, and thanks for not selling them to us,” Cat grumbled. He obviously wasn’t going to forgive Lola very easily.
Lola smiled sadly at Cat. “I understand you’re mad at me, Cat. I’ll see you at the concert. Maybe by then, you’ll forgive me?”
Cat turned his back on her, crossing his arms again. “Humph.”
Lola sighed. “Okay. Hasta la vista.” She flew out the window, less graceful than usual.
Cat pulled himself up on the couch. “I can’t believe she did that. You’d think someone as cultured as HER... I mean, ugh!”
“Cat, if you were in her place, you would have done the same thing just for some money!” said Dog, disapproving of Cat’s attitude.
“Well... maybe. But the fact is, I’m not! And she was!”
“I still think you’re being unfair to Lola. She just didn’t want to see the ticket go to waste.”
Cat felt another pang of guilt, but shrugged it off. “Nevermind, Dog. What matters now is that we have tickets to see our divas, in concert, in person!”
Cat and Dog both grinned. “Hi-ho-diggety!” they cried, and they gave each other a high-four. They were on their way to the greatest concert in Nearburg history!
That is, if Nearburg was still standing by then.
Chapter Three: “Grease and Slime”
“AAAAHHH!!”
Shriek was bouncing up and down in delight, grasping a poster of Biscuit Canino in her hands.
“I don’t believe this! One of my biggest idols is actually coming to Nearburg! This is one of the greatest moments of my entire life!”
“Duh, but isn’t she performing with, duh, that cat singer?” Lube pointed out.
“I know that!” Shriek snapped. “And I don’t care! This is
Biscuit Canino we’re talking about! Nothing’s stopping me from seeing her IN PERSON!”
“Me neither!” said Cliff, walking in with his own poster. “Greasers, we are all going to that concert, regardless of that lousy Tuna Fish Felina.”
“Duh, heh-heh... you made a funny, Cliff,” Lube chuckled.
Shriek picked up a dart from the floor and aimed it carefully at a picture on the wall, next to one of CatDog that was covered in dart holes. She threw the dart with a grunt of effort, making it land squarely on Tunya Felina’s nose.
“What do people see in that girl, anyway?! She’s a lousy singer! Have you ever heard her so-called hit single?”
“Duh, I have,” said Lube, raising his hand. He started singing: “He’s the ca-at’s meow, to me...”
Cliff, who had covered his ears upon hearing this, grabbed Lube’s face by the lips. “Ugh! Don’t ever sing that horrible song around me! I’ll go crazy if I hear that again, with all the requests they make for it on the radio!”
“Amen to that,” said Shriek. “I hope they don’t make Biscuit sing that garbage, because if they do, I’ll POUND ‘em!”
Cliff let go of Lube’s face and wiped his hand on his pants. “I wish we could pound every last Tunya Felina fan in Nearburg!”
Lube, who had massaged his face back to normal, asked, “Duh, do you think that CatDog likes Tunya? Then we could, duh, pound ‘em, like we always do.”
“Yeah, I bet Cat likes her!” said Shriek. “And maybe they’ll be at the concert, too!”
“Not if WE can help it,” said Cliff menacingly. “CatDog will just ruin our whole concert experience, not to mention, if Biscuit sees that two-headed freak, she’ll never perform here again!”
Shriek and Lube gasped in horror.
“My fellow Greasers,” Cliff proclaimed, “it is our solemn duty to make sure Biscuit Canino never lays her virgin eyes on the mistake of nature that is Cat-butt. Who’s with me?”
“I AM!”
“Duh, me too.”
“I’ll certainly be sure to spread the word,” said a new voice.
The Greasers turned towards their now-open front door, where there stood Rancid Rabbit. He strutted in like he owned the place, a strange gleam in his beady eyes.
“Duh, it’s that green rabbit guy who’s loud and bossy and stuff!” said Lube.
“So, I hear you three mongrels are going to beat up CatDog again?”
“We don’t want that freak at the upcoming concert!” Shriek explained.
“So you’ve said. I’ve got a proposition for you, one that will definitely be worth your while. One that will rid you of CatDog in time for the concert.”
The Greasers exchanged looks, then grinned nastily.
“Tell us more,” said Cliff.
Rancid nodded. “You
love Biscuit Canino, am I right? I happen to be her manager. I’m making you three the new leaders of the official Biscuit Canino Club, Nearburg division.”
The Greaser dogs gasped in surprise.
“No WAY!” cried Shriek.
“Duh, you’re pulling our elbows!”
“I can assure you I’m not. As the leaders, you get to organize as many members as you can in time for the concert. And with these members, you’ll get to pound every last Tunya fan in Nearburg, just like you wanted. And in return, I’ll get rid of CatDog for you.”
“Suh-WEET!” cried Cliff. “Mr. Rabbit, you’ve got yourself a deal—and what a deal!” He grabbed Rancid’s hand and shook it firmly.
“Nice doing business with you,” said Rancid, a sly smile playing on his lips. He let go of Cliff’s hand and went out the door.
Cliff puffed out his chest. “Greasers, we may not get to pound CatDog, but today is certainly a proud day for us, nevertheless.”
“This concert’s gonna be the greatest EVER!” yelled Shriek. Lube just smiled absently.
Meanwhile, outside the Greaser hangout, Rancid walked down the sidewalk, rubbing his hands in glee.
“Phase one complete. Heh-heh-heh.”
Chapter Four: “Agent Winslow, Super Spy”
“I’m telling you, I still can’t believe that Rancid made me the leader of the Tunya Felina Club, Nearburg division!” Randolph bragged to Tallulah. “It’s too crazy and wild, and I just love my luck!”
The two of them were having lunch at Swankers, at their own private table with Randolph’s request. Tallulah beamed at him. “I’m so proud of you, Randy-dandy.”
Randolph blushed pink under his fur. “Please, Tallulah, darling. Save the nicknames for when we’re not in public,” he chuckled.
Tallulah placed her hand on his. “Maybe I don’t want to,” she purred.
Randolph blushed a deep red now. “Tallulah...”
She removed her hand from his. “I know, we’re going off topic. Anyway... do you get any benefits for being Club President?”
Randolph seemed to relax a bit, and he smiled. “Yeah. The club is being treated to a pre-show before the concert, right here in Swankers.”
Tallulah gasped. “You mean Tunya Felina will be performing
early?!”
“At my personal request. I have Tunya’s cell number—courtesy of Rancid—and when I called to ask her for a pre-show performance, she said she could never refuse her fans, and she agreed! Isn’t that marvelous?”
“What power you have now!” Tallulah squealed. “Oh, Randy-dandy! When is this pre-show?”
“Tomorrow night, my little chickadee,” Randolph said with a wink.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Tallulah.
Meanwhile, a certain blue rat was listening in on this conversation through one of his many hole-in-the-wall doors. He rubbed his chin reflectively before slamming the door shut.
As he walked across town back to CatDog’s house, Winslow wondered aloud to himself. “Hmm... what should I do with this information? If I tell Cat, of course he’d want to go see that Tunya girl. But he’d have a heck of a hard time joining the Tunya Club with Dog, a Biscuit fan, attached to him... which is exactly why I WILL tell him! Heh-heh! Oh, boy, is this ever gonna be rich... !”
Later, at CatDog’s house...
Cat was staring at Winslow. “You’re... you’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Tunya Felina is performing early at Swankers tomorrow night. But you have to be a member of her club to get in. And I don’t think they’ll let you in with Dog...”
Dog frowned. “He’s right, Cat! I’m a Biscuit fan. They’ll never let me in!”
“But I want to see Tunya early!” Cat whined. “Oh, why does fate have to be so cruel?!”
Winslow chuckled to himself. This was exactly what he was expecting, and he loved every second of it. “Sorry you have to suffer, Cat... pfft. Yeah, right! Heh-heh!”
Cat shot Winslow an evil look. “Shut up, rodent!”
“Make me!”
“Watch it, or I just might!” Cat yelled.
Winslow wagged a finger in Cat’s face. “Nuh-uh, temper, temper. Think of your blood pressure, Cat.”
“I’ll show you
blood pressure, you little blue mudwart!!” said Cat, making a swipe for him.
“Woah!” said Winslow, narrowly dodging Cat’s claws. Realizing the feline was serious, he ran for his door and slammed it behind him.
“Cat, it’s not Winslow’s fault you can’t go see the pre-show... it’s mine.”
Cat sighed. “That’s okay, Dog... we can still go to the concert, at least.”
But Dog wasn’t convinced. He knew how much Cat loved listening to Tunya’s singing—and at least she was more bearable than classical polka. They had to get into the pre-show somehow!
Cat interrupted his thoughts with another sigh. “You know, Dog, it’s funny. I never thought I’d develop a liking for any kind of pop music. But Tunya broke the mold, and now... she’s been rocking my world since.”
He smiled dreamily. “Her mother, Salmone, used to be a famous opera singer, almost as big as Madame Cowess. For a while, it seemed as though Tunya would follow in her footsteps. She was pretty good at opera when she was a kid, too.”
“But why would any kid want to do opera?” Dog asked, making a face.
Cat shrugged. “What’s wrong with that? Her mother wanted her to do it, and she had a lot of influence on her. Urban myths say that it was karaoke night at her college when she performed her first non-opera song. She was so outstanding that, ever since then, she continued to use her opera training to sing pop... with her own music and lyrics, of course.”
“Wow. She must be pretty talented,” said Dog, still trying to think of a way to get into the pre-show at Swankers.
“Yup, she sure is,” said Cat, flopping onto the couch. “And she’s gorgeous to boot. Everything I’ve wanted in a woman and more... too bad I’ll never get to know her personally. I’d bet we’d hit it off pretty good.”
Dog’s ears suddenly pricked up, and his eyes gleamed in excitement. He gasped at his own cleverness. “Cat! I know how we can see the pre-show!”
“You do?” asked Cat, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah! All we have to do is find Tunya Felina at Swankers before the show starts! If we do, maybe we can ask her if she’ll let us watch her from backstage. No one will ever know!”
“What! Dog, are you crazy? That’ll never work in a million...”
Cat paused and thought about what Dog had just said. “Wait... maybe it CAN work! Find Tunya, ask her for her autograph, and get some backstage passes... why not?! Dog, you’re a genius!”
Dog didn’t reply. He was busy inspecting the carpet lint and flicking it away between his fingers.
“Okay, let me rephrase that. Dog, you’re... nevermind, I’ll never think of the right word. What matters right now is that we have a mission to accomplish!” Cat chuckled to himself and rubbed his hands together. This was going to be a piece of cake!
Or was it?
***
The next evening, Cat and Dog found themselves driving to Swankers, mentally preparing themselves for their mission ahead... at least, Cat was mentally preparing himself. Dog was sticking his head out the window, panting and drooling into the rushing air.
If only they knew what was going on back at home, however. Rancid Rabbit had driven up to their front door in a black sedan, then parked, and came out of the vehicle carrying a small briefcase. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, he knelt down and opened the briefcase, taking out a thin wire, and a plastic card.
Unbeknownst to him, someone was watching, and that someone was Lola Caricola. Ever since the previous afternoon, she had been brooding and feeling sorry for herself over making Cat so angry at her. However, she was broken out of her reverie when one of her camera monitors started to beep.
“Eh? Qué es?” she said, startled. Lola got off her hammock and rushed to the monitors. It was the camera situated at CatDog’s front door that was beeping, one she had secretly planted to study CatDog when she first moved into her tree next door. She saw Rancid opening the briefcase, and her eyes widened with panic.
“What is Señor Rabbit doing?” she whispered to herself.
Rancid was, to answer Lola’s question, using the thin wire to pick the locked door. The whippoorwill stared in horror as he next used the plastic card to slide between the door frame and the lock mechanism, and the door finally opened.
“Oh no!” cried Lola, as it finally sunk in. “He’s breaking into CatDog’s house! I’ve got to stop him!”
Meanwhile, Rancid had quietly stepped into the house and looked around carefully. Where was CatDog? He listened for any tell-tale noises for their location, but he heard nothing. They couldn’t be asleep at this hour, could they? They must be pretty sound sleepers if they didn’t snore.
No sooner did he set foot on the stairs to find the bedroom, he heard a screeching battle cry heading in his direction.
“AIIIIIIYIYIYIIIIIIIEEE!!!”
Lola’s boot made direct contact with Rancid’s head, and the force knocked him off balance to the floor. “OOF!”
The dazed rabbit’s vision was blurry for a second or two, but when he squinted, he could make out Lola’s face glaring fiercely into his beady eyes.
“Rancid, what are you doing in CatDog’s house?!”
Rancid’s brow furrowed. “None of your business, bird. Now get lost!”
Lola’s hands went to her hips. “Not unless you tell me why you broke in! Otherwise, I call the police, and your tail is in jail!”
Rancid seemed to remember something, then gave her a nasty smile. “Who’s going to jail... scalper?”
Lola, stunned by his remark, made no move to defend herself as Rancid quickly snatched her small body in his hand and stood up.
“Hahahaha! You forget, Miss Caricola, that I’m the head of police, the local judge, and the mayor. You’ll be in sing-sing
long before I will! Right now, in fact!”
Rancid pulled a radio from his pocket and spoke into it: “Calling all cars. I’ve just captured Lola Caricola—while breaking in and entering the CatDog residence.”
Lola’s eyes widened. “No... no! You can’t do this!”
“Watch me,” Rancid growled. “Now shut up and try to look as pathetic as possible for the news cameras! And quit squirming!”
Winslow’s door in the wall quietly creaked shut.
Chapter 5: “Diehard for Divas”
CatDog’s car pulled up across the street from Swankers in downtown Nearburg. Cat looked up and down the street. Very few cars were parked nearby, and among those few was a telltale black limousine.
Cat nudged Dog with his elbow. “Dog, look! That’s got to be Tunya’s limo!”
He checked his wristwatch. “It’s 6:00. That pre-show couldn’t have started yet… it’s too early.”
“I just hope we’re not too late!” said Dog.
“Here’s hoping,” said Cat, crossing his fingers.
“But how do we get inside?” asked Dog.
“Don’t worry, brother of mine. I’ve already calculated a foolproof plan. Just follow my lead… and I’ll be within mere inches of Tunya Felina before we know it! Ooh, this is going to be great!” said Cat excitedly.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. “Come along, Dog! We have a mission to accomplish!” he declared.
It was Dog’s turn to be excited. “A mission? You mean like a secret mission, like those super secret agents on TV who go on super secret mission-type things?!”
Cat sighed. “Yes, Dog. Just like on TV.”
“Then hi-ho-diggety, let’s go!” cried Dog.
Cat let out a yelp as Dog leaped out of the car and onto the pavement, jerking Cat along as he did so. Fortunately, Cat landed on his feet—as his species was known to do.
“Dog, be careful! I don’t want to be injured when I see Tunya. What would she think if she saw me battered and bruised?”
Dog frowned. “Sorry, Cat.”
Cat pulled out a hand mirror and quickly inspected himself. “I don’t want so much as a hair to be out of place when she makes her first impression of me.”
He paused. “Do I have anything in my teeth?” he asked Dog.
Dog looked. “Nope, you’re good.”
Cat sighed with relief. “Good. Then let’s proceed with the plan, shall we?”
He popped open the car trunk and pulled out a familiar-looking cloth suit.
“Oh, no… not the suit again!” groaned Dog
“Dog, please! It’s the only way!”
Dog sighed. “Okay, okay…”
The canine reluctantly wriggled into the suit so that his entire half of their body was covered. Cat now looked like, for the most part, a perfectly normal cat, tail and all.
“You won’t have to wear it for long, I promise,” Cat assured his brother. “Just until we reach Tunya.”
Cat reached into the trunk again and pulled out a pair of white overalls, a white cap, and a green shirt. He put on the shirt and hat, and then pulled on the overalls over “the suit.” He took out a fake mustache from the pocket of the overalls and affixed it beneath his nose. Finally, he reached into the trunk a third time and pulled out a bouquet of a dozen red roses, which he cradled under his arm. After slamming the trunk shut, he whistled a happy tune as he crossed the street over to Swankers.
Cat pushed past the glass door and tried to remain inconspicuous as he ogled the fancy decorating of the restaurant. He had been to Swankers a couple of times before, but he never could get over how classy it looked—it practically oozed with money. He was so absorbed by these posh surroundings that he accidentally bumped into an important-looking man in a tuxedo.
“Excuse me, but what are you doing in here? This restaurant has been rented out by the official Tunya Felina fan club for the evening,” said the man.
Cat kept his cool and put on his best Italian accent. “Ah, this is-a flower delivery. I’ve come for to deliver this-a bunch of roses for the
bellissima Tunya Felina, eh? Where might I-a find her?”
The man raised an eyebrow at Cat. “She’s in the restaurant’s dressing room for all our visiting performers. I’ll take those flowers to her for you, if you don’t mind.”
The man reached the flowers, catching Cat off guard. He moved the bouquet out of the man’s reach and laughed nervously.
“
Signore, it is-a very kind of you for to be offering. But I am afraid that-a these flowers need to be delivered personally. You see,
signore, these-a flowers are from a – how you say – secret admirer? I am-a to be serenading her with a love song picked by this-a admirer. If-a the song is not performed, I get no pay.
Comprendere?”
Cat half-expected the man to see right through this lie, but instead the man smiled and chuckled. “Oh? So Miss Felina has an admirer? Well, there’s an interesting bit of gossip for our guests tonight. And when there’s gossip at our tables, the longer they’ll stay and order drinks! Very well, sir, you may continue with your delivery.”
He pointed across the room. “Go through that door and make a right at the end of the hall. There’s a sign right over the dressing room door; you can’t miss it.”
Cat removed his cap and made a sweeping bow. “Ah,
grazie,
signore!”
Just then, the fake mustache started slipping off on one side. Cat quickly placed his cap back on and made a movement like he was smoothing his mustache. With another nervous laugh, he made his way to Tunya’s dressing room, hugging the roses to his chest.
That was way too close, thought Cat.
Next time I pull a stunt like this, I’m getting a better facial adhesive.
Cat walked across the room, through the door, and down the hallway, constantly looking about to see if anyone was following him. Fortunately, he was alone—aside from Dog, still hidden by their disguise. He made a right turn at the end of the hallway. This turn led to another hallway, and on the right wall was a wooden door with an engraved brass plaque that read “DRESSING ROOM” in large letters.
Cat smiled and stretched out his overalls to speak to Dog. “We made it! Now let’s go into the nearest broom closet and get out of these clothes!” he whispered.
“Thank goodness,” replied Dog’s muffled voice. “I’m starting to sweat in here!”
Cat stepped into a broom closet that was, conveniently enough, right across the hallway from the dressing room. He placed the bouquet of roses on a box and hurriedly stripped off the disguise. As soon as the cat suit was off, Dog took a big gasp of air and coughed a few times.
“Are you alright?” asked Cat.
“Yeah, I’m okay. It was just getting hard to breathe in there,” said Dog.
Cat bent over and picked up suit and clothes, rolled them into a ball and put them in the corner of the closet. “Here’s hoping we won’t need those again tonight.”
He scooped up the bouquet of roses and struck a pose. “How do I look, Dog? Is Tunya going to swoon when she sees me, or what?”
Dog looked up at his brother and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure. You still have your mustache on.”
“Oh… so I do. Uh, I
meant to do that, really,” said Cat sheepishly. He removed the mustache and threw it at the pile of clothes. “
Now, how do I look?”
“You look great, Cat! I don’t know what swooning is, but I bet Tunya will do plenty of it when she sees you!”
Cat smoothed back his head-fur. “That’s all I needed to hear. Come along, Dog.”
The brothers exited the closet and stepped up to the dressing room door. Cat sprayed liquid breath mint into his mouth before knocking on the door.
“Who is it?” said a woman’s voice.
Cat could barely contain his excitement. Even when she wasn’t singing, he could recognize that voice anywhere.
“Flowers for Tunya Felina!” he called in a sing-song voice.
At last, thought Cat.
At long last, I get to see that beautiful woman in person!
“Just a minute,” came the reply.
For Cat, it seemed to take forever for the door to open. When it finally did, he could not believe what met his eyes. Standing before him was a beautiful female cat with orange fur, long blonde hair, and big blue eyes. She wore a pair of pink satin slippers, and a matching bathrobe that hugged her waist. A vanity mirror behind her cast a white aura of light that made her seem otherworldly.
Cat’s jaw dropped and nearly hit the floor. “T-t-tunya F-felina?”
“Yes?” she replied politely.
It is her… she’s even more beautiful than I thought she would be! She looks like an angel!
He swallowed hard. “Miss Felina… I’m… I’m… I’m… going to faint.”
With a sigh, his eyes closed, and he fell to the floor with a thud.
***
Meanwhile, in uptown Nearburg, a gathering of vast proportions was taking shape at the Greasers’ hideout. Ever since the previous afternoon, the Greasers had been recruiting members into the new Nearburg division of the Biscuit Canino fan club, and now the club was having its very first meeting. The topic of discussion?
“We’re gonna pound the living snot out of every last Tunya fan in Nearburg!” Cliff shouted from behind a makeshift podium.
A resounding cheer came from every member of the new club—including Mervis, who since the announcement of the concert had moved out of the apartment he shared with Dunglap, a Tunya Felina fan. The skinny pig was squished between the hundred or so other members who had crammed inside, wearing clothes that resembled Biscuit’s usual outfit. Many of the other members were dressed the same way, and those that weren’t had their favorite piece of Biscuit Canino merchandise with them.
Cliff stepped down from the podium and pointed to a diagram he and Shriek had sloppily drawn. “Now, look here. I’ve made a few phone calls about the seating arrangements for the concert, which, as you all know, is gonna take place in Nearburg Park’s Open Music Hall. All the Tunya fans’ll be sittin’ on the left-hand side…”
He pointed to a block of X’s marked on the diagram.
“… But we’ll be sittin’ on the right-hand side!”
He now pointed to a block of O’s on the diagram.
“Now here’s the plan. See this here rectangle above the X’s and O’s? That’s the stage. During the concert, the O’s – that’s us – will surround the X’s – the Tunya fans – in a discreet-like fashion. We’ll make this move every time a song ends, while our soon-to-be victims are too busy clappin’ or booin’ to notice. Then, when we’ve got all the Tunya fans at the concert completely surrounded…”
Cliff punched a fist into his palm. “WHAM! It’s poundin’ time!”
Another cheer arose, more loudly and riotous than before.
“Yeah, no more Tunya lovers!” someone shouted.
“Her music stinks and so do they!” yelled someone else.
“Yeah, let’s get rid of ‘em all!” Mervis called, raising a fist in the air.
Eddie the squirrel – who claimed to enjoy listening to Biscuit Canino’s songs as much as the next Greaser, and even used his teeth to tear up the poster of Tunya that Shriek used earlier for target practice – had been assigned to keep watch outside the Greasers’ hideout, in case a Tunya fan happened to walk by. (This also served to keep the hyperactive rodent from disrupting the meeting.) He was really getting into his role, pacing back and forth at the hideout’s entrance gate, chest puffed out and muttering “Hup, two, three, four!” under his breath.
Eddie suddenly paused when the sound of car brakes caught his attention. A red convertible had pulled up with two people inside: a big, brawny bulldog with an underbite, and a familiar-looking female dog in a blue baseball cap.
She slapped the bulldog on the shoulder. “Watch the car, okay, K.C.? I’ll try not to take too long.”
“You’re the boss, Miss Canino,” growled K.C.
Eddie’s eyes widened. “It’s—it’s Biscuit! It’s Biscuit Canino! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I’ve gotta tell Cliff! But he told me to keep watch out here… oh, what do I do, what do I do?!”
Biscuit jumped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. She brushed some stray auburn hair out of her face and casually strolled up to Eddie, who could only stare in shock, for once at a loss for words. She knelt before the little gray squirrel and gently shook his hand.
“Hey, how’s it goin’, kid? The name’s Biscuit Canino, you probably heard of me. Is this where my fan club’s meetin’ tonight?”
Eddie suddenly found his voice again as quickly as he had lost it. “Yeah, sure, Ms. Canino, this is the place alright! Boy oh boy, did you ever pick the best time to show up! They’re meeting right inside, right now, you betcha!”
“Yeah, I kinda heard rumors flyin’ around that they were meetin’ here tonight,” said Biscuit with a shrug. “I decided to show up and give ‘em a surprise, ya know?”
Hearing about Tunya’s little pre-show at Swanker’s didn’t hurt, either, she added mentally.
She stood up and shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. “So, you wanna show me in, kid?”
“Oh, sure thing, Miss Canino, sure thing!” said Eddie. “Just follow me!”
Eddie scampered ahead to the front door. “Cliff! Cliff!” he yelled. “You’re not gonna believe who’s here, Cliff!”
“Eddie, why aren’t you standing guard like we told you to?!” Cliff yelled back.
Biscuit gave Eddie a half-smile. “I think I’ll let myself in, kid. Let me handle this one.”
She suddenly kicked the door open and strutted her way inside, putting on her best grin.
“Who’s your favorite doggy diva, baby!”
Screams of surprise and excitement erupted from all around.
“Oh. My. Gosh! It’s BISCUIT CANINO!” shrieked Shriek.
Lube stared, and his mouth dropped open. He even started to drool! “Duuuhhh…”
Cliff stared, too. He couldn’t believe that the Biscuit Canino was in here, in person, right before his very eyes. He almost regretted yelling at Eddie. Biscuit’s blue eyes seemed to paralyze Cliff right where he stood, and his heart started to beat very fast.
Sweet mother of all things good and pure… she’s even more beautiful in person! She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen!
Little hearts started swirling around Cliff’s head, and he sighed dreamily. There was no doubt about it—he was in love!
Biscuit greeted her fans as she made her way to the center of the room, offering the occasional handshake and high-four. When she got to Mervis, she winked at him and said, “Hey, nice threads!” Mervis could only blush and giggle girlishly in response.
Finally, Biscuit noticed Cliff for the first time and gave him a firm handshake. “Hey, how you doin’? Are you the guy in charge of this meetin’?”
“Uh, uh, yeah! Sure am!” Cliff stuttered. He couldn’t believe what was happening was real—Biscuit Canino was in
his place, talking to
him, even making physical contact with him! He had to be dreaming…
“I hope I ain’t interruptin’ nothin’,” said Biscuit. “I just wanted to drop by and say hi to my fans, y’know?”
Cliff was about to reply, when Shriek pushed past him and started hopping up and down like a deranged pogo-stick.
“Biscuit Canino!” she cried. “I love you! I love your songs! I have all your albums! I listen to them all the time! I have a poster of you on my wall! I’M YOUR BIGGEST FAN!” she screamed.
Biscuit was taken aback by Shriek’s loudness, but was immensely flattered at the same time. “I appreciate the sentiment, short-stack,” she chuckled.
Shriek sighed in bliss. “She called me ‘short-stack...’ I will never despise that nickname again.”
Lube went up to Biscuit, looking as though he wanted to say something, but he could still only drool. “Duuuhhh…”
Biscuit kept smiling, but backed away nervously. “Uh, okay… nice to meet you, too, pal.”
Cliff pushed past both Shriek and Lube (knocking Lube to the floor in the process) and took Biscuit’s hand in both of his. “Miss Canino, it is indeed an honor and a pleasure to have you join us, your humble and ever-loyal fans.”
Biscuit gave a careless wave with her free hand. “Aw, heck. It ain’t nothin’ at all, really. Just wanted to see how psyched you all are about my upcomin’ concert!”
The fan club members cheered and applauded loudly in response.
“Well, if it’s okay with all of you, I’m gonna give you all a preview of what you’ll be seein’ next week. How’s about that?”
Cliff, Shriek, and Lube nearly wet themselves upon hearing this.
“You mean… you’re gonna perform a song, right now?” said Cliff.
“That would be GREAT!” cried Shriek.
“Duuuhhh… huh?” said Lube.
Biscuit laughed. “Hey, I’m a performer. It’s what I do, right? I love making my fans happy. So whaddya say, everyone? Wanna hear a song?”
“Yeah! Sing ‘My Doggone Baby,’” yelled Mervis.
“Yeah, sing it, sing it!” the others shouted.
“Okay, you got it! Anyone got a stereo?” asked Biscuit.
Cliff ran into the next room, and brought back a black boombox under one arm. “Here you go, Miss Canino!”
Biscuit pulled out an audio cassette from the pocket of her sweatpants. She popped it into the stereo’s tape player, and everyone fell completely silent.
As the music started, Biscuit started to slowly dance around what little space she had on the floor, and as she did so, she began to sing:
“Oh my doggone baby,
He's been so shady lately.
Givin’ me those puppy eyes,
Actin’ like he's all surprised.
With the accusations flyin’.
So I'm just bye-byin’.
See you later, boy.
I'm not your squeaky toy.
So chew on this, we’re through.
I am so done with you.
Life’s rough, but that's tough,
You’re such a dog, I've had enough.”
Biscuit began to move her hips to the rhythm. Whoops and hollers came from around the room, especially from the males in the audience.
Cliff was completely hypnotized by her movements, mouth agape.
Oh, man… would you look at her!
“Oh my doggone baby,
I was his leadin’ lady.
Now that dog is leash-free,
Just another broken dream.
Howlin’ at the moon at night,
‘Cause my heart don’t feel right.
See you later, boy.
I'm not your squeaky toy.
So chew on this, we’re through.
I am so done with you.
Life’s rough, but that's tough,
You’re such a dog, I’ve had enough.”
Biscuit slowly sank to her knees as she danced now, while the music took on a more morose tone. A look of pure sadness crossed her face, and she continued to move as she sang on her knees.
“I can’t eat…
I can’t sleep…
I don't want to take a walk.
Why won’t he say
What’s keeping him away?
If only we could talk…”
On the last line, she rose up from the floor, and the music returned to normal. Her dance became more aggressive and focused.
“Oh my doggone baby,
You don't know how I've felt lately.
But you left me with no choice,
And you've been such a bad boy.
Give you up for someone else,
Some other dog who won't give me—
Well, see you later, boy.
I’m not your squeaky toy.
So chew on this, we're through.
I am so done with you.
Life’s rough, but that’s tough,
You’re such a dog, I've had enough.”
Biscuit danced in place as the song ended, eyes directly on her audience.
“Oh, see you later, boy.
I'm not your squeaky toy.
So chew on this, we’re through.
I am so done with you.
Life’s rough, but that's tough,
You’re such a dog, I’ve had enough.”
The music stopped, and so did Biscuit, frozen in a pose. There was a moment of silence.
And then, there came such a wave of applause, cheers, whistles, shouts, and screams that Biscuit was nearly bowled over, and if someone happened to pass by the Greasers’ hideout at that moment, they would have done a triple-take.
“That was the greatest thing EVER!” yelled Shriek, wildly clapping her hands.
Lube had finally stopped drooling and was clapping just as hard. “Duh, yeah! That was almost better than pounding CatDog!”
“That was amazin’!” said Cliff. “Miss Canino, that was even better than the radio version, and I thought that’d be tough to beat!”
“Thanks, all of you,” said Biscuit, blushing a little. “It’s fans like you that make me wanna sing for the whole world. And I ain’t just sayin’ that, either.”
She checked her watch. “Well, everyone, I wish I could stay longer, but I gotta go.”
Everyone moaned in disappointment.
“Hey, don’t worry!” said Biscuit. “You’ll all see me at the concert. I’m sure you can wait that long, right? I’ll see you all next week, and remember, I’ll be signing autographs after the show! See ya!”
More cheers came. Biscuit walked towards the door as she waved goodbye. Shriek and Lube fought each other to get Biscuit’s attention as they waved goodbye to her.
Amidst the noise and distraction, Cliff hurried over and held the door open for Biscuit.
“After you, Miss Canino,” he said with a smile.
Biscuit smiled back. “Hey, thanks. You know, you’re a real nice guy… I never even got your name.”
Cliff gave a gentlemanly bow. “Clifford Feltbottom, at your service. But you can call me Cliff.”
Biscuit stepped out the door. “Well, Cliff… I hope I see you again. Maybe you can show me around town sometime, huh?”
Cliff’s eyes widened. “R-really? You mean it?”
“Yeah! I really like what I’ve seen of Nearburg so far, but I’d really like to see it through the eyes of another dog. How’s about tomorrow night?”
Cliff felt like floating on air. “Sounds great,” he replied dreamily. He suddenly shook his head to regain his senses, and said in a much manlier voice, “It’ll be my pleasure to give you the grand tour.”
“Great! I’ll see you, then. Bye, Cliff!”
Cliff stared after her as she walked back to the red convertible, hopped back in, and had K.C. drive her away. He sighed deeply with content.
“What a babe.”
Suddenly, Eddie appeared on his shoulder. “Wow, I can’t believe Biscuit Canino was here! That song was the coolest! I wanna see her perform it over and over and over and over and over—”
Cliff swatted a hand at him, making him fall to the ground. “Shut up, already, will ya! Go inside and join the other fan club members. And if you make any noise, I’ll pound you for a change, got it?”
Eddie dusted himself off and saluted Cliff. “Right, Cliff! You’re the boss, Cliff! Whatever you say!” And the squirrel scampered inside.
Cliff rolled his eyes before turning his attention upwards. He barely noticed the night sky before, but tonight it seemed more full of stars than usual. It was pretty… like Biscuit.
“I’ll show her Nearburg, alright… and hopefully, I’ll get more than just her autograph,” he chuckled to himself. He then went back inside to continue the meeting.
Politeness was not Cliff’s strong suit, but it sure paid off when it came to pretty girls!
Chapter Six: “Meeting Tunya”
“Cat? Cat, wake up!”
Cat moaned as he regained consciousness. As his eyes fluttered open, he could just barely make out the forms of two people leaning over him. He recognized one of them as Dog, but he wasn’t sure who the other one was.
“Dog...? What happened?”
Dog slowly helped his brother off his back. “You fainted, Cat!”
Cat groggily raised an eyebrow at his brother. “What could possibly make me faint?”
Dog, in spite of himself, smirked. “Turn around and see for yourself!”
Cat did—and he gasped. He was face-to-face, almost nose-to-nose, with Tunya Felina, still in her bathrobe and slippers.
“GAH!”
Cat backed up against the nearest wall and started panicking. “Tunya Felina! I… I didn’t mean to barge in on you when you weren’t decent! I’m not a pervert, I swear!”
Tunya stared at Cat, obviously very perplexed. She cocked her head to one side and blinked.
Cat took this as a neutral response. He cautiously eased away from the wall. “Um… Miss Felina? Aren’t you going to say something?”
Tunya blinked again.
Cat felt uneasy. He then remembered the bouquet of roses he had brought for Tunya and looked around for them. They had been placed on the arm of the sofa where the three of them sat. He picked them up and offered them to Tunya.
“Uh… I bought these flowers for you, Miss Felina. They’re roses. I mean, I know that’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled nervously, “But… well… what I mean is… do you like them? The roses, I mean.”
Tunya continued to stare, not sure what to make of the situation. Finally, she said something:
“Are you
real?”
Cat almost fell over when he heard this. “Wha—? What?! What do you mean, ‘am I real?’ Of course I’m real!” he cried. “And so are these flowers!” he added, shaking the bouquet a bit.
Tunya frowned. “I’m sorry… it’s just that I’ve never seen anything like you before. Are you two
really attached? Or is that just a costume?”
Dog nodded. “Yup, we’re attached, alright! We’ve been like this ever since we were born.”
Tunya shook her head in disbelief. “Wow… so you two must be… conjoined twins, right?”
“Yes, that we are,” said Cat. “Unfortunately,” he added under his breath.
Tunya seemed very interested now. “Cool! Do you share any major vital organs or anything like that? Not to get personal,” she added, embarrassed. “I was something of a biology geek in high school.”
“Really?” said Cat. Now
he was the one taking interest! He was pretty surprised that such an attractive woman, and with her career, could have ever been into biology.
“Oh, yeah! I dissected frogs and everything,” said Tunya.
“Wow! What a coincidence! I was into that stuff, too,” said Cat. “Dissection was a bit on the repulsive side for me, but I loved learning about biology. It’s like Mother Nature’s robotics—so logical and perfect.”
“Yeah, that’s how I always thought of it!” said Tunya with enthusiasm. “For example, I loved reading about plants and how they conducted photosynthesis. They’re so self-sufficient, you know? It’s just amazing. Just some nutrients from the ground, a little sun, a little water, some carbon dioxide… they need so little to survive. That’s always amazed me!”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” said Cat. “I was into insects, myself. I had a whole collection of butterflies and moths.”
“I liked learning about fireflies in my class,” said Tunya. “Did you know that even their eggs and larvae glow in the dark? That is so cool!”
“Yeah! And so do their pupae… and, as I’ve learned from personal experience, the splatter they make on your windshield glows, too.”
“Really? That is so funny!”
Dog was getting
really confused. He thought Cat wanted to make Tunya like him, but now they were talking about nerdy things. Didn’t girls like Tunya usually think that stuff was boring? But as Dog watched them talk, he realized Tunya wasn’t bored at all. In fact, she was smiling and even laughing, and so was Cat!
“I was one of the geekiest girls in school,” Tunya explained to Cat. “Everyone thought I was kind of—well,
odd, to say the least. I loved biology, and opera – you know, because of my mom – and I liked to read Shakespeare. I was pretty normal other than that, but no one seemed to notice. All they saw were my prescription glasses, plaid skirt, and metal retainer. I got picked on sometimes, but the other kids mostly ignored me.”
“At least you had it better than I did,” said Cat. “There wasn’t one day in school where I didn’t get picked on or beat up! I
wish people ignored me back then!”
“Aw, you poor thing!” said Tunya. “You and your brother must have gotten a lot of flack for being born the way you were.”
“Yeah, we did… and we often still do.”
“Yeah!” Dog interjected. “There’s this gang of dogs called the Greasers, and they beat us up every day! Cat and I have to run like crazy to get away from them, but most of the time they catch up with us, and do really mean things to us, like punch us, or kick us, or give us wedgies.”
Tunya gasped in horror. “But—but
why would they be so harsh?”
Cat sighed. “Well, for one thing, the Greasers hate cats. And to them, the only thing worse than a cat is a dog who hangs out with a cat, and the only thing worse than that is a cat and dog stuck together… even when they can’t help it.”
Tunya was at a loss for words. From her expression, CatDog could see that she had never heard something so terrible in her life.
“But… what about the rest of Nearburg? You guys must have some friends, right?”
“Yeah, we have friends,” said Dog. “There’s Lola, and Mervis, and Dunglap, and Winslow—”
“If you can
call them friends!” Cat interrupted. “Dunglap’s nice to us most of the time, but when he’s with Mervis, the two of them bicker constantly and
hardly pay any attention to us. Mervis is scared of Dog because Dog chases him when he’s doing postman work. Winslow constantly puts
me through pain and suffering, and enjoys every minute of it. And as for Lola… ugh. I don’t even
want to talk about her.”
He crossed his arms. Dog frowned. Cat was still mad at Lola for scalping that concert ticket.
“No friendship is perfect, Cat,” said Dog.
“Your brother’s right, Cat,” said Tunya. “At least you guys
have friends, right?”
Cat’s angry expression softened. “Well, yeah, I guess you’re right.”
There suddenly came a knock on the door. “Ten minutes to show time, Miss Felina!” called a voice.
Tunya looked at the clock on the wall. “Oh, crud! I’m not even dressed yet! I guess you guys better go.”
She got up from the couch and took the bouquet of roses from Cat. She inhaled the scent deeply. “Ooh, they smell wonderful! I love roses. They’re my absolute favorite flowers. Thank you very much, Cat.”
Cat nearly melted in her gaze. “You’re very welcome, Miss Felina.”
“Please, call me Tunya,” she said, waving a hand. “Are you guys going to stick around for the pre-show tonight? I can give you special seats near the stage.”
“You’d do that?” said Cat, surprised.
“Of course! I love to see my fans happy, and you’re obviously a very big fan,” said Tunya with a wink.
“Oh, yes… I sure am,” said Cat dreamily.
“I’ll tell the staff to set you guys up,” said Tunya. “Hmm… now that I think about it, will you need one seat, or two?”
“Two!” said CatDog in unison.
Tunya nodded. “Okay, two seats it is. Now you two run along—I need some privacy in here, you know?”
“Of course, wouldn’t want to keep your other fans waiting!” said Cat, bounding off the couch. Dog was caught unprepared by this and fell flat on his face. Cat didn’t notice and merely dragged his other half to the door. He looked over his shoulder at Tunya and tried to look suave. “So, I guess I’ll see you in a few.”
“And during the concert, I hope?” asked Tunya.
“But of course! I wouldn’t miss that for the world,” said Cat.
Tunya smiled. “See you in a few… Cat.”
Cat smiled back at her. “See you… Tunya.” He opened the door, and he and Dog made their exit.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Cat let out a shuddering sigh of delight.
“Dog… isn’t she the most beautiful cat girl you’ve ever seen in your life?”
Dog nodded. “I have to admit, Cat—she is really pretty in person.”
“Pretty? Dog, she’s more than just pretty! She’s gorgeous, stunning, elegant, dazzling! A Helen of Troy among cats! An Aphrodite, even! In a word… bee-yoo-ti-ful!”
He sighed again. “And not only that, she’s smart, too! Who’d have thought that behind all that marvelous beauty lays an equally marvelous mind? Oh, Dog… I think I’m in love with her!”
“But you only just met her!” said Dog, surprised.
“I know, isn’t it great?” said Cat.
“Cat, how can you be sure you’re in love with her if you hardly know her?”
Cat rolled his eyes. “Dog… when you actually
notice a girl, and you fall in love with her, you’ll understand. Believe me.”
Dog wasn’t so sure about this, but since he trusted his older brother, he decided Cat had to be right. After all, Cat knew a lot more about girls than he did.
By the time CatDog made their way back to the dining area, many tables were full of guests; members of the Tunya Felina fan club, Nearburg division.
“Wow, Cat. Look at all these people!” exclaimed Dog. “What if Tunya can’t fix us up at a table?”
“Have faith, Dog. If my charisma got through to her – which it undoubtedly did – then we have nothing to worry about,” Cat assured him.
Just then, a waiter came up to them. “Are you CatDog?” he asked.
“Yes, we are!” said Cat. He gave Dog a playful nudge with his elbow, as well as a look that seemed to say, “I told you so.”
“Tunya Felina herself has requested that you two sit as close to the stage as possible. If you’ll follow me, I will lead you to your seats,” said the waiter.
CatDog followed the waiter to a table with two chairs that couldn’t have been more than a few feet away from the stage. After the waiter seated them and left to fetch a pair of menus, Cat spotted Randolph and Tallulah sitting in a table across from them.
“Well, hello there, CatDog!” said Randolph, waving at them. “Fancy seeing you here! I didn’t know you were members of the Tunya Felina fan club.”
“Actually,” said Dog, “I’m not—”
Cat slapped a hand over Dog’s mouth. “Oh, yeah, Dog and I are
huge Tunya fans. We’ve been members ever since the club first formed—
right, Dog?” said Cat, glaring at his brother.
Dog didn’t like to lie, but he knew they would be tossed out of Swankers if anyone knew he was a Biscuit Canino fan. He quickly nodded his head in reply to Cat.
“Fabulous!” said Randolph, none the wiser. “I rented out the entire restaurant for this event. I’m the president of the Nearburg division now, in case you didn’t know.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know,” said Cat. Winslow had already told him this news the day before, but he figured that the more he stroked Randolph’s ego, the less likely he’d be suspicious of Dog.
“Yes sir, Rancid Rabbit himself gave me this position. Talk about luck, eh?” said Randolph.
Cat raised an eyebrow. “Did you say, ‘Rancid Rabbit’? What does he have to do with all this?”
“Why, didn’t you know?” said Tallulah, surprised. “Rancid is the head of the record company Tunya works for, Rancid Records! He’s even her manager! Sadly, he also works with that wretched Biscuit Canino,” she added with a snort.
Dog, offended at hearing his favorite diva being insulted, started to growl.
Cat lightly smacked him on the nose. “Dog! Bad boy! No growling at the table!” He saw Randolph and Tallulah staring at them, and he chuckled nervously. “Uh, heh-heh… he doesn’t like Biscuit, either. Just the thought of her makes him start growling. You know how it is with dogs.”
Randolph nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. My ex, the Schnauzer, was the same way.” He sighed. “Ah, she was a tough old gal…”
Tallulah touched his hand. “Don’t reminisce about that now, sweetie. You’re with me, remember?”
Randolph blushed. “Tallulah, please, don’t announce it to the world!”
“But I want to tell the whole world about us, Randy-dandy!” said Tallulah.
Cat left the couple to bicker and gave Dog a withering look. “Dog, if I hadn’t covered your behind just now, we could have been kicked out! Be more careful!”
“I’m sorry, Cat,” said Dog. “I just hate it when people insult Biscuit Canino.”
“I understand that,” said Cat, “but you can’t let anyone know you’re a fan of hers. Just play along for now, okay?”
“Fine,” said Dog with a sigh, “but I won’t like it.”
Suddenly, the restaurant’s PA system sounded to life.
“Ladies and gentlemen…” it boomed.
The lights dimmed, and the guests immediately began whispering amongst themselves with excitement.
“This is it, Dog!” said Cat. “Remember to clap for Tunya, okay?”
“Yeah, got it,” muttered Dog. He didn’t sound particularly happy.
A spotlight shone on the stage, and the restaurant fell silent with anticipation.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” repeated the voice on the PA system, “put your hands together for the beautiful, talented pop-star sensation—
Tunya Felina!”
Almost out of nowhere, Tunya, now wearing her signature red dress, walked up onstage amidst an explosion of cheering and applause. She waved at the restaurant patrons, smiling and blowing kisses.
Dog clapped politely and tried not to look bored. Cat whistled and waved at Tunya, hoping she’d look in his direction. Sure enough, she did, and with a wink she blew him a kiss. Cat fell to the floor, as though the kiss had hit him like a brick. He looked towards the ceiling with dazed eyes, little hearts spinning around his head.
“Is it just me,” he said with a sigh, “or has my luck just been too good to be true lately?”
Tunya picked up a microphone and smiled into it. “Thank you! Thank you all very much for having me here tonight! It makes me so happy to see my fans happy. Which is why I felt more than happy to bring you this pre-show before the big concert next week!”
More cheers and applause. Cat picked himself up from the floor, bedraggled but no worse for the wear. He sighed and began smoothing out his fur. “Isn’t she sweet, Dog?” he said admiringly.
Dog rolled his eyes. Boy, was his brother acting weird!
“And so, without further ado,” Tunya continued, “I’m going to start off by singing my most popular song, ‘He’s the Cat’s Meow to Me.’ Hit it!”
A live band beside the stage began playing an upbeat pop tune. More cheering arose as Tunya started to dance to the music.
“Dog, she’s going to sing her hit song!” whispered Cat. “This is terrific!”
“She sure can dance well, I’ll give her that,” said Dog.
Cat looked up at the stage and was instantly transfixed by Tunya’s movements. His voice lowered to a low purr. “Yeah… would you look at that sweet body move? Me-yow! That is hot stuff right there...”
“Is she going to sing, or what?” said Dog impatiently.
“Patience, brother of mine,” said Cat. “There’s no rush…”
So long as she keeps sashaying those hips, he added mentally.
Tunya kept moving to the music as she started her song.
“He's so handsome and sweet…
He really sweeps me off my feet, yeah.
So catlike in his charm…
I know he'd never do me no harm.”
Looking into his eyes,
I'll tell you what I see.
A man who makes me purr;
He's the cat's meow to me.
“He's the cat's meow to me…
I know I've never felt so happy!
The cat's meow to me…
I feel so glad that he's my baby!”
It’s as though she’s singing about me… oh, if only, thought Cat. He smiled to himself and rested his chin in his hand. His eyes followed Tunya as she danced about the stage. She was really getting into the rhythm, a feline possessed by the music.
