INT., MY BEDROOM, DAY. I AM MAKING THE BED AS IDLE DISPLACEMENT FROM WRITING THE NEXT CHAPTER OF MY NOVEL.
SHYCAT: I’m going to take advantage of Bossycat’s absence to leap onto the bed and ask for attention in my ridiculous squeaky voice.
ME: Aww, aren’t you cute? Give us a kiss.
SHYCAT: Because there is no sign of Bossycat, I will roll on my back and show you my fluffy black underwool. She’s not coming to cuff me off the bed like she usually is, is she?
ME: It’s okay, Shycat. Bossycat is playing in the garden.
SHYCAT: Here is my underwool. You may pet it.
ME: Blimey. Look at how much fur’s coming off you in this hot weather.
SHYCAT: When I catch your hand and pretend to kill it, I am much gentler than Bossycat. This makes me superior. But don’t tell her I said that because she will beat me up.
ME: Look at all of this fur, Shycat. I’m serious. We could stuff a pillow with it.
SHYCAT: Also, my arms are long and silky and look as if I am wearing long black evening gloves. Bossycat’s arms are stripey like Pippi Longstocking. One day you will understand the significance of this and then you will love me best.
ME: (ROLLS UP THE REALLY QUITE LARGE QUANTITY OF LONG SILKY BLACK CAT-HAIR INTO A LITTLE CLUMP) Look, Shycat, we made a sootikin. This is a sootikin. Well, this is what I think a sootikin ought to be, anyway. It’s much nicer than the real thing.
SHYCAT: HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THAT
ME: What? It’s just your fur, Shycat. I rolled it up and made a little mouse thing.
SHYCAT: IT IS EVIL
ME: Shycat, this is your fur. Two minutes ago you were in it. You can’t act all paranoid and upset about your own fur.
SHYCAT: MAKE IT GO AWAY
Me: It probably even still smells like you. Look, have a sniff.
SHYCAT: SAVE YOURSELVES! ABANDON SHIP! RUN FOR THE HILLS!
(SHYCAT LEAVES THE BEDROOM AT SPEED. A MOMENT LATER SHE ARRIVES IN THE GARDEN. BOSSYCAT LEAPS OUT OF A BUSH AND AMBUSHES HER. I LOOK AT MY STILL-UNMADE BED AND REALISE I HAVE JUST SPENT TIME MAKING A CAT-HAIR SOOTIKIN TO FRIGHTEN THE PETS WITH.)
Cassandra Parkin 