Cool Cat stared down at the boiling pot of water. His paws inched closer to it. He felt the steam rise up into his tender pink nose. He felt the heat envelop his face. If he wanted to be beautiful he would have to leap into the scorching water. How long would he have to bathe in there? How long would he have to soak and writhe in pain in there to make him look beautiful and hairless.
Ah to be like those Egyptian cat gods—those lucky immaculate hairless bastards.
His furry paws inched closer and Cool Cat stretched his neck over the edge of the shelf. Down below he saw the boiling water bubbling; big overgrown bubbles formed and burst and then became part of the vapor cloud. Cool Cat looked away but had to look again this time with only one watery green eye open: he meowed. Cool Cat looked behind him at his friend Fluffer Cat who stared back at him with his canary eyes ready to pop out of his tiny skull and his stupid tongue hanging out over the side of his gaping mouth.
Cool Cat wanted to be beautiful—he was tired of being fluffy and poor; he wanted to be rich and famous. He wanted to be a beloved icon like his hero Mr.Bigglesworth had been. He counted one for the money and two for the show.
jaimesgalindo.com 