Friday, 2 December 2011

Cat Bite Mutant! (Or, Thumbs Are Useful)

Everyone knows, that when you are bitten by an animal, there is the chance that you may turn into a superhuman.  Especially if that animal is a)irradiated, b)itself a mutant, or c)the bastard spawn of the Devil.

The evil two-faced cat that bit me was the bastard spawn of the Devil.

A mere two weeks ago to the day, I and the Llama arrived at the country cottages beside the wild Welsh border that we and our friends frequent once a year, at the time when the veils between the worlds are weakest, and thus creatures fey and foul are able to tread the land.

We had unpacked, stowed newly delivered food and beverages for the weekend, and were chilling out in front of one cottage when this one foul fey creature appeared, a black and white long haired cat which porceeded to endear itself to us, cuddling up on my friend Mozz's chest for instance. 

Now I love cats, and was immediately drawn by this creature's dark seductions to pet it thoroughly, which many of my friends had done.  I managed to get it sitting on my lap, by doing the leg slap employed by cat-people to draw the dratted animal's attentions.  In my mind I was informing the cat that here was a nice warm place to sit, where it would be petted to its little blood-pump's content.

In fairness, I was warned that the cat was a bitey cat, and had bitten another friend.  Now I thought this meant that the cat had nibbled her.  I've been nibbled cats, in that friendly playful way that doesn't leave a mark.

I was happily stroking the little beast, and I thought the little beast was happy.  Indeed it did not give any indication of unhappiness, was not growling or flicking its tale.  It was purring.  Fucking purring for Thor's sake.  And without provocation, indication or warning, it lunged for my thumb and bit down through skin and muscle and, it felt at the time, to the fucking BONE!

And then the little bastard ran off into the night, after I practically threw it off my lap.

I bled and bruised and got a lovely little swelling thanks to that cat's saliva, that made my right hand useless for the rest of the weekend.  I could not hold anything, could not cut potatoes, and worse, could not hold a drink, except in my left hand.  And thats just weird.

And then an amazing thing happened.

It was the next night, and a group of us were playing charades.  I came up with an ingenious representation of a Tyranosaurus Rex, but I cannot find the photo, so have a picture instead.

I had a better one, but the scanner went into a depression and refused to scan.  As you can see, I adopted the basic pose of the Chicken, but with the facial expressions of the Frog by way of a toothache. 

We then began to drink shots, and I felt a strange sensation, quite unlike anything else I'd ever felt before, and totally not to do with the lovely alcohols parading before me. 

The beast's venom was beginning to work on me, re-writing my DNA, changing me in ways I could not imagine.  And as I downed shot after shot (that's me mouthing a small skull recepticle as I could
not pick it up), the Devil carved his name on every cell in my body, thanks to his little demon cat.

In the short space of time when one shot became ten, I was transformed into a superhuman, mutated beyond recognition. 

I could leap over armchairs with ease, crawl invisible around my compadre's legs as I searched for victims to save and criminals to punish, criminals such as the evil bottles that had my friends in thrall.  I had to fight them by drinking their contents and destroying them with my super powered stomach acids.

I was a creature of might, invincible by dint of a bite to the hand by Satan's Sourpuss, but my metamorphosis was not yet complete.  There was still one change yet to come.

In the blink of an eye I transported myself to the next cottage over using my newfound abilities, bampf!  And there I completed my transfiguration.  I grew a shell of adamantium, and a jaw that would break concrete.

I became the totally terrific Tortoise-Girl!!

And I developed a craving for bread.

And went to sleep, for after all that remodeling I was a very tired Tortoise-Girl.

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