Story written by Rob Kosy on Saturday 24, April 2010

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They're out to get me....................

Overall Rating: 93.875%

This writing has been rated by 8 members, resulting in a rating of 93.875% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

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The next morning I woke to the joys of an all-over rash, the taste of cigarettes and a colossal headache. Until, that is, thoughts of Big Bubba's magic solution gently prodded the clitoris of my brain's "possibilities centre". Had he worked his magic already? Had my feline tormentors shat their best and final shit in my garden? The involuntary one, the dump of fear? Drunk on anticipation, I carefully removed the frying pan from my wife's bosom and kissed her waxen cheek. Then I leapt out of bed and ran to the front door. The Vista before me was as macabre as it was baffling. Not a patch of grass was evident. My crazy-paving was completely obscured. So too the entire garden fence (including the garpet grippers glued on top by a random passer-by some months back). Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of wooden stools were crammed into my garden. Space was at such a premium that many were stacked three, sometimes four, high. Two, I noticed, sat upon the read and yellow swings someone had stolen from the park and dumped randomly on my lawn some years previously. A light breeze nuzzled them gently too and fro. Through the night it had rained. A pathetic, light drizzle layered everything it touched with a vinyl-silk finish. Everything, that is, except the solitary cat turd sitting regally in the centre of each and every wooden stool. They shone with a gloss far, far more lustrous than anything the rain could paint. They were new and fresh and incredibly odorous................and the taunted me. It turned out, as you've probably guessed, that "Big Bubba" was a retired circus ring-master and the Powdered Lion Stools he flogged over the net were exactly that; stools for circus lions to sit on (hey, just add water). Apparently this was all explained in detail on Big Bubba's website and on the tin. Was it bollocks! * * * * I don't recall much of what happened after my garden became a depot hub for Ikea. What I do remember is waking up in this little white room with a frying pan-sized egg on the top of my head. For some reason I have a doctor (he says he isn't a rapist but I have my doubts) who insists that I wear this stylish, white jacket with buckles at the back. I love the coat but wish that its design did not rely on the constant folding of my arms. Doctor Tabby (I suspect that's not his real name) says that there is no cat shit in my garden and that there never was. He's lying, of course, so to annoy him I always accuse him of stealing the free bear suit I should have recieved with my dehydrated-wooden-stools. (Well I certainly didn't get it). Tabby's response is always deadpan, "There were no stools either, Rob!" To which I reply, "Who the hell is Rob?" And so it goes............... Captain Kirk (he always tells me to call him Jim) will get me out of here soon, I'm sure. But until then, all I can do is lament my unjust incarceration and contemplate the two important lessons learned from my cat encounters; Never shake hands with a six-foot swan and don't ever sharpen fish in the presence of doves..................

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    This is funny, off the wall, totally English nonsense..,

    And I loved it.

    (and I'm a cat lover, sorry. I'm a doggy lover as well, tho, but not in the biblical sense.(or the cat...))

    Very, very, well done; worthy of Savage_Cushions at his most humerous.
    OMG!!!! OMG!!!This was probably the funniest piece I have seen so far!!!!
    "The shit quotient increased to the nth degree, only now glazed with a gaudy, orange vomit. A sort of muesli bar garnish.
    Just too awesome!! Just tooooooo freakin' awesome
    I will refrain from rating, since i love cats so much. Just wanted to say, it is very enjoyable.
    Wow! Thanks chaps.
    "Worthy of savage at his most humerous". Bloody hell Verm, mucho praise indeed.
    Blue, good to see you back reading and posting (I'm gonna read yours right after this).
    By the way, I actualy like cats & feed all the local ones. I've found that that's the best way to keep them from crapping in your garden.Wink
    I was laughing so much by page four I had to stop for a wee!! Lolz!!

    Brilliantly funny, brilliantly executed and paced perfectly. Awesome Rob. Grin

    The same middle-aged fountain of spinster knowledge who once, when on hands and knees scrubbing her kitchen floor, experienced a sudden and mysterious paralysis. She was only released from her "Littlest Hobo" parody when, some hours later, she finally realized that she was kneeling on her breasts.- where did this come from? I laughed my butt off.

    I re-read it to be sure I was reading and not having a humor nightmare. Turns out , it was both.

    Absolutely hilarious!
    What can I say? Superb! Hysterical!

    I am in truly in awe - this is a comic masterpiece; nuttier than a bar of Cadbury's fruit and nut with the chocolate melted off and the fruity bits strategically extracted with tweezers... (and of course the wrapper needs to have been removed at the outset for this metaphor to work at all).

    I am not at all surprised you live in Psychedelia street Rob; there is a definite recreational whiff about this whole piece. I love the throw-away references to carpet gripper, the swing, and of course Mrs Bear who deserves the upmost sympathy of all of us.

    I would possibly take issue with your assertion that the world would continue to revolve even without the admirable work of those rotund ladies that so inspired Mr Mercury, but otherwise this is a faultless slice of studied silliness.

    Double wow!
    Many, many thanks for your motivating comments. I'm glad you all enjoyed it.
    I loved your Fruit & Nut analogy Savage (you little royster-doyster you) but I liken it more to a Cadbury's Boost -they're slightly rippled with a flat underside (approriate floating Reeves and Mortimer hand gestures here)- if you remember the old TV ads.
    And, Don. It's actually me who experiences the humour nightmares. You lot are kind enough to lend a sympathetic ear (or eye in this case)
    Stay tuned for more nonsense soon........Shock
    In the beginning, God created Adam.
    Then he created Eve.
    Then he created dog, to be a friend and to worship and trust Adam (Eve would never trust him.)
    Thus, did Adam's ego grow.
    And Eve notified God of the situation.
    So God created the cat.
    And the cat did not care.
    I know, I have two.