SWOOSH!

The tiny cat was launched out of the chimney of the home, sent tossing in the air. After weeks of building, the invention had finally worked just according to plan! While ideally the cat lady that owned him would have just opened the door at some point during those several weeks, her extreme agoraphobia led to that possibility being ruled out in the initial stages of planning.

Clearly, the was no other option than to build a contraption that used bait to lure the other cats onto a weight-trigger that would set of a device that launches Wentworth forty feet up in the air through a chimney to his escape.

The cat landed firmly – albeit, barely – on all fours on top of the roof. It was neither hot nor tin, but yes, there was a cat on the roof. He skittered along the roof tiles until he found a few spots to safely jump down and make his way onto the pavement. Once there, he focused deeply, concentrating on summoning some resemblance to himself until – poof! – his accessories appeared on his body. Instantly appeared a velvety cravat, little white spats on his hind legs, and a marvelous dark top hat on his head.

He was Wentworth, the dashing cat he was meant to be, at last.

The little cat moved at a hurried sprint towards the heart of the city – the deeper into the city he went, the more power signatures he felt all around him. Some he immediately recognized as nearby allied signatures – but others felt foreign and intrusive.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, it was going to storm soon. He needed to get started soon. He had hazy ideas of what was going on, but needed a source to talk to, someone to ask questions…

…someone he could relate to…

…someone with intelligence…

…and that’s when, unfortunately, Wentworth met Troy Squire of Chronos.

Troy Squire was just getting back to his apartment after a night of half-assed patrolling the city. Well, far less of patrolling and more of a wandering around aimlessly in his powered disguise after another night's shift at the strip club. It was easier to get home in his powered form, with handy super jumping and running speeds, and he also didn't have the feeling that there was a wedgie glitter riding up his a** when in this form. Just the normal wedgies.

When he got to the street just outside his apartment - located in a battered down district of downtown Destiny City - he stopped in his tracks when he heard a tiny sound of a small animal approaching. Was it a youma? It didn't feel like any enemy power signature was nearby, but there was definitely something...

He turned quickly to see – the most adorable little creature in fancy human clothes.

“Aw!” he beamed. “What an adorable little puppy you are, fella!”

Instantly, the ‘puppy’ was in Troy’s hulking arms in a tight embrace.

Oh god, he was choking. He couldn’t breathe. His spine felt like it was about to break.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go, what is wrong with you?” he tried to speak, but his lungs were being crushed. Without option, the cat slammed a paw into the boy’s shoulder, claws extended.

“Dog darn it, dog!” he screamed as he tossed the ‘dog’ onto the ground and immediately looked at his shoulder. It was bleeding – only a little – but hurt like a ********. He took a palm and covered the little wound and dabbed at it until the blood stopped coming out, but still stung quite a bit. “What the hell? I thought dogs were supposed to be nice.”

Catching his breath, the cat tried to speak.

“First of all –,” the cat started.

“YOU’RE A TALKING DOG?” Holy crap. A million ideas raced through Troy's head at that moment. Most of them were ideas for video submissions for America's Funniest Home Video.


“What? No, please, be quiet,” the cat insisted.

“Ya just talked again! You’re a damn talkin’ dog! Holy hell, I’m gonna be rich. I should like put you on the YouTubes!” he exclaimed.

“Will you please be quiet for a moment…”

“Man you speak so funny, you like a mean talking dog. That’s funny.”

“You outrageous imbecile, shut your mouth and listen to me,” Wentworth scolded. “First of all, I am no talking dog. I am Mauvian, and far more of a feline than canine.”

Troy stared blankly, jaw dropped and confused.

“It means I am a cat, not a dog, you uneducated child,” he spat. “Is this what passes for a Knight these days? No wonder I sensed so much trouble in this city.”

“Now to continue on, I am a Mauvian, and I am here to serve the Senshi,” he started. “Who I can only hope have a higher level of intelligence than yourself. Tell me, what do you call yourself?”

“Erm,” he started, feeling aggravated and embrassed. “I ain’t dumb, don’t be a*****e, Mr. Cat.”

“Wentworth is my name.”

“Erm, okay Waterworks.”

“Wentworth.”

“That’s what I said,” he continued. “Whatever, Mr. Cat. Look, don’t be one of them smart asses who thinks you’re better than everyone. Second, my name is Troy, Troy Squire of Chronos.”

The words ‘Squire of Chronos’ never grew easier for him to say. But just as the words fell from his lips, a downpour of rain began on the street just outside Troy’s apartment.

“Oh, dear heavens,” Wentworth complained. “Do you have anywhere I can take shelter?”

“Yeah, this my apartment,” Troy gestured to a battered old building behind him.

“You live in that?” Wentworth gasped. He nearly protested further – but what options did he have? Another night in filthy old place wouldn’t be the worst thing. The cat gave a small nod in defeat.

Troy picked up the little cat and hurried on inside, powering down as soon as they got out of the rain.

Little did Wentworth know just what he had signed himself up for – the start of a long lasting friendship.

Relationship.

Best friendship.

Mere acquaintances.

Bestest friends.

His personal hell.

Troy: 471 words
Wentworth: 564 words