Claiming The Home (Preview Chapter)
#1 of Claiming The House
Now, being a fan of RP, I have here started a short chapter on what it is that I do. I enjoy Rp, a lot, and I find that it helps me to write the most comical things in which I thrive for. Now, that doesn't mean I write often, but when I do, it tends to look alot like this. So, if you feel that you need to find a way to relieve stress, then read this! That's what I would do. :T
Twas the day of new years, and all about the house, the humans were sleeping, the mouses were out. And on comes a feline, a house cat indeed, looking over his script, reading with a need. "No no no. None of this holiday rhyming nonsense. Vexen... today is the day we take over the couch!" The grey house cat cheered, throwing up his little front legs into the air like he just didn't care.
Sighing, the brown lynx looked over his mapped out battle plans. (Which were totally the script.) Looking over the territory that the humans and mice watched over. "Well, since all three of us so far are really.... really small... and in a feral form... for some reason. I'd think we could. We have the man power, even if it is only Kiyotoe over there."
"Damn straight." Muttered the female snow leopard.
"Annnnd we have Canice, other words known as Agent Vanilla Nipple..." He paused, reading over the name again just to be sure he had read it right. "Um... if I may ask... what does he do?" The now rather confused lynx asked, thinking that Mister Fuzzles had probably written that in just to hear the lynx say it aloud.
"Ah yes, Agent Vanilla Nipple is one of our many spies, and recon operatives. Why, once, he sang an entire five person orgy into the ground armed only with the song 'Pink, By Aerosmith'. And since then, I have NEVER questioned his methods. Anyhow, let us commence over the battle of the COUCH!" The house cat cheered, burping then passing out over the table that Vexen had been using to draw up plans.
Some time later.
As the door to the living room opened, the holy song of the entitled Mister Fuzzles began to play, filling the room with dread at the sight, and sound. All the mice, both noobs of war and veterans, with their lovely body scars and other fancy little war memorabilia, stopped what it was that they were doing, a snort coming from each of their tiny, itty bitty throats. As the door opened, letting in light and for some reason, fog, Mister Fuzzles made his entrance. As the song 'Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees' rang out, the domestic feline drove onward, riding in his remote control, red pimpin' mustang toy, wearing about the most bejeweled sun glasses one could hope for. And upon his neck were the gold chains of a gansta, a burger king crown atop his head to let all the on lookers know whats up. And, his song ending, he drove right on up to the current commanded of the mighty mice, an arm dangling from his window as he simply nodded his head to him. "What up, yo. Ya ready to get served?"
"The fuck are you?" The commander asked, not doing well to keep a straight face as his men about him lay bout the floor laughing, all close to tears. "Are you... really going to try to challenge us in... that?" He snickered, covering his mouth but not hiding his laughter well as his chest heaved.
"Nah bitch. With THAT." Was his reply, jerking a thumb back behind him as Kiyotoe, the snow leopard entered the house, smiling down upon all the mice as she licked over her lips, a gleeful, murderous twinkle in her eyes.
"The fuck is THAT???" He yelped. Now, being simple mice folk of the Kingdom of The House, he had not once, ever seen anything beyond a house cat, discovery channel or not, and it terrified him. Enough so that he wasn't the only one to crap their pants, as mice often did, all the time. Unless, of course, their name was Mousy. Mousy would never be so vulgar. Never ever. Anyhow, onto the short murder scene~!
And so, the battle began, the mice having been taken off guard to the extreme, not standing a chance against the leopard as their screams echoed through out the room. It only took just a few minutes, but soon they had conquered the couch, leaving a trail of tiny little limbs of their fallen enemies that they had only known for such a short time. Mister Fuzzles was on his way to being a great king, and hoped to have more subjects to control in the future, since his team only consisted of ONE FREAKING combatant, and one smart enough to plan strategies, although according to script, we have reason to believe that his role is honestly just to be around and write and stuff. And so! Our faithful heroes (Who, honestly, seems more like murders) await to make plans for conquering the rest of the living room, and then, the house! (Dramatic music~!)