Another Day at Zuckerberg Farm {OPEN}

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  • Georgie forced his ears to lie real flat, but they twitched back when she started firing off on him like he right damn paraded over her mother's swollen belly. "Okay, calm down. I'm not trying to scare you. I was just wondering." He retreated, took that step back and let the space between them do the talking. This she-cat was real messed up in the head. What set her off? He decided that it would be an interesting endeavor to investigate. "I know you can't read minds. I was just pullin' your tail. So get it screwed on straight and let's just return to normal, okay?" He paused a moment, as if waiting for an answer, but then he marched right on with a, "So, what made you go crazy cat on me?"

  • "To be honest I don't discuss personal issues with complete strangers and that is beside the point! You were the one who got all jumpy when I mentioned you being a complete mousebrained kitty pet!" There, she had insulted him once more. Ophelia decided to just included the very last of what she had said to make him go off. She was fishing for a weak spot and perhaps he would get on her hook for her to reel him in.

  • He shook his head. "Okay, okay, I'm not trying to push your button." He leaped down from the hay and landed nimbly on all fours beside the line of empty stalls the farmer used to stable the plowhorses. "And not all kittypets are mousebrained. I, myself, am a kittypet." He instantly regretted it as soon as the words tumbled out his mouth. She better not say that I prove her point, he thought.

  • "Oh!" Ophelia regretted ever meeting Georgie. Why couldn't she have just kept going, her need for food and shelter was starting to control her. "I'm sorry! I did not mean it in a personal way! It is just that you were acting so mouse brained and I was getting a little fed up.." So you see, it was your fault.. The unsaid words hung in the air between the two felines and Ophelia's gaze traveled to Georgie's face, wondering what he would do now, as she did not mean to unsult him.

  • He sighed again--he was doing that a lot nowadays, was it because he was getting old?--and he pinned Ophelia with a no-nonsense stare. "Whatever you say." He narrowed his eyes, suspicion curdling in his stomach. What was with the sudden change from pissed off to apologetic--well, as apologetic as she was going to get. "Come along then. Let's get some sugar. I'm raring for a snack."

  • "Sugar?" of all the strange behaviors of kitty pets, Ophelia had never heard of having a sugar. Sure, her paretns called each other names like that all the time, but to eat a loved one was a little bit over the top for Ophelia so a sheepish grin appeared on her face as she followed to Georgie to the sugar. "Is it good? I've only ever heard my parents call each other 'sugar'."

  • Georgie disappeared around the bend, but he stood waiting patiently on the steps that lead to the tack room, a forepaw nudged in the gap between the old wooden door and the red brick wall. "Sugar," he meowed, his voice carrying smoothly through the empty barn, "is the best invention since the mouse." He gestured for her to go inside, swinging the door open with a gentle push. "Ladies first."

  • "Sure.." Ophelia mewed with a good natured grin and headed into the barn, her long fiery red tail sweeping behind her. "I've never been a fan of mice myself," she started to say but then the sweetest scent she could have imagined floated to her senses. "My.." she giggled as though high on cat nip, "Is that sugar?" Who knew the different effects of the God sent sweetness her parents often called each other would spark a fire in Ophelia. Her head floated in the clouds from just the smell, so what would sugar under her tongue actually do to her?

  • He followed right on her heels, more excited than he would ever admit. This happened every time, the usual stiffening of the tail, the slow rising of the hackles along the nape of his neck; he embraced its familiarity, and dug his claws into the soft rotten floorboards beneath him. "See those sacks hanging from the wall?" He lifted his forepaw and pointed to a crudely wrought and well-aged hook, whose flaky rust spotted the canvas nosebags attached to it. "The trick is to cut a small hole in the bottom of one and wait with your mouth open." He sheathed his claws and padded over to the back, where Ophelia was standing. He made a tiny nick with his teeth and lapped at it vigorously before stepping aside. A fine shower of what looked to be white dust fell down through the opening and pooled onto the floor.


    Georgie inspected the pile, gently poked it with a paw. "Hm, I must have crushed it. Normally they come in cubes."

  • That was a really sad death scene you wrote.


    Ophelia watched with wide, dialated eyes as the white powder trickled into Georgie's mouth. Her own senses were on high and she felt, saw, and heard everything a lot clearer. "Let me try!" she mewed almost leaping to the pile of sugar on the floor. The tom's lecture on cubes was lost as a sensation of warmth filled Ophelia and her tongue greedily scraped the sugar off the wooden boards. But then it stopped and with a desperate glance at the coarse bag hanging above her head, Ophelia saw something blocking the hole. Like a well trained dog, she then proceeded to astonish even herself as she stood up on her hind legs, her paws tucked gently into her chest, and proceeded to make the hole larger. What fell from the bag was a shower of cubes, and Ophelia lept from under it with a yowl.

  • ((Really? Thank you. :D I tried. Hope that kick-started your plot!))


    Georgie, unable to contain himself, burst aloud with raucous laughter, tears springing to his eyes. He flopped over onto his back and rolled around, succeeding in coating his dark pelt with a fine layer of old lint and yellow dust. He was black by the time he managed to rise to his paws, and even then he was still caught in a fit of chuckles and snorts.


    "Way to go," he mrrowed, and the words seemed to roll off his tongue. "That's enough to last us a week."

  • It was :D


    "Are you laughing at me?"Ophelia asked with dissbelief. She had never been laughed at and the humiliation of it was almost unbearable. "And besides, I can't stay here a week. I should be going as it is," she pointed out smuggly. "You are going to be all alone for not the first time in your life, apparantly, but I have somewhere to be." That is unless you appologize. But still, Ophelia would not stay more than one night. Perhaps she did find a real friend in Georgie, but her paretns and siblings were waiting.

  • "What else would I be laughing at?" He stifled as much of it as he could in a box of Aunty Ann's shoe polish, but the cardboard was too thin to block out most of his guffawing. "Leaving already, sugar?" Another bout of laughter. "Going to meet your sugar daddy?" He hooted at this, and keeled over again and flopped around like a fish out of water. "God, this is the best laugh I've had in ages."

  • "You little.." Ophelia searched for a particularly insultful word and then it came to her, "You little kittypet!" she spat with a smug grin. Hopefully, he would get mad enough to forget about insulting her parents, "You think that if you have sugar and introduce it to someone knew you can hoot and howl about it? Well sor-ree to disappoint you but I'm not like that! You think that since you are so lonely and alone and depressed it means you can insult me and my connection? Go make out with some frog for all I care!"


    Not particularly hurtful, but making fun of someones looks and teasing them about not having a girlfriend was always fun. Always.

  • Even then it took him a while to sober up, and he wasn't particularly interested in rousing himself from his little fit either. When the laughter abated a little, he stood and leaned against the wall for support, his shoulder digging into the soft wood there. "Alright, alright. I didn't mean it," he spat crossly. "I'm sorry. Now take that back. I'm only alone because all the pretty ladies are taken." He sniffed. "And the rest are too young to know left from right."

  • "No," Ophelia replied smugly, "I won't take it back, and you are alone because you bear no charm or manners, and don't know how to conduct yourself in front of girls. And so you have looked! But everyone turned you down? You are so pathetic it is not even funny!" But despite her accusations, Ophelia started to laugh. He was comical in the way his face contorted itself to its funny expressions and his eyes glittered good naturdly.

  • "Little girl, you know nothing about the enchanting world of women," he mewed, and as he said this, he was covertly moving to the right, inching along the wall, closer and closer to his prize. A few times his eyes strayed towards the miniature mountain, the white-capped peak that sparkled like glass in the sunlight, and it whispered to him promises of the secret paradise that would unfurl inside his mouth once he closed his lips upon it. So close, just a little more...

  • "Apparently," Ophelia huffed, her fur standing on end, "You know nothing about the world of women either." She saw his eyes dart to the sugar and his movement was suspicious. At fist glance as though he was planning something naughty, but when she looked closer, he was actually making his way to the delectable sugar. "You," she mewed with disgust, "Are SO insecure about yourself. It is disgusting." Ophelia herself was dying to rake her tongue against the precious snowy white flakes, but it was not to be. Her pride was too controlling and would not let her mind or stomach make their own choices. The pride that was so rigid and uncontrollable. Ophelia felt as though she would die as she stood there, still as stone.

  • He saw her moment of weakness, calculated the exact span of time that proceeded and exceeded the space of the battle between her indignant and childish pride and her bodily desires, and just as she conquered the urge to take him on and beat him at his own game, he made it. Oh, glorious sugar! Holy mountain! Georgie would've bowed down and worshipped at its feet if it wasn't so enticing. He turned around, his mouth full of sugar, and smiled. "Well, at least sugar will never dump you cold," he meowed, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, such was the height of his pleasure. "Mmm. So good." He dipped his tail in it and dangled it in front of her prissy little face. "So good."

  • All my she cats are like Ophelia and Seamist but all your toms are so charming :p


    When Ophelia saw Georgie erupt from the ground in one fluid moment, she barely had enough time to duck as his body sailed over her head at landed next to the white pile of glorious sweets. However, when he decided to tease her by waving his long tail over and about her face, it was too humiliating to bear. It was no secret to Ophelia that she would not break under his menacing actions. She considered herself top of the line, and now some low down scum was waving temptation on front of her face. It was too much to bear.


    "AhhH!" erupted from Ophelia's maw as she launched herself at the tom. There was no way he had anticipated this cource of action and with her paws outstretched and claws sheethed, Ophelia gleefully awaited for the moment she would barrel into Georgie and send them both reeling.