Six String God

Hell Hole Happiness

Kibbles the Cat stared at him, his gold-green eyes glinting magnificently in the dimly illuminated alley. This cat, this black bundle of soft fur was Evil. Yes, Evil with a capital E. From his swishing, thick tail to his sleek black fur, glinting golden eyes and the air of cool nonchalance and indifference; everything was a superb tribute to Evil. All about this Oh-so-adorable feline was sinister and it took an expert like Jesse N. Richardson to see this. It took a dedicated man like Jesse to get into the mind of this cat, too see what worked beyond that adorable furry head. Jesse had been helping people locate escapee or lost felines since he was eight years old and the people in his town trusted Jesse to always find their cats for them.

As sinister and hostile this cat was, Jesse valiant Cat Rescuer and yet-to-be-discovered God of the Six String was just as cat enough to match up to Kibbles. Yes, our boy Jesse N. Richardson was just as quick witted, smooth thinking and reflexive as Kibbles. His leveling response to ornery cats was unmatched and born from years of excelling in basketball. Uncoordinated he might be at dancing, yet Jesse's reflexes were excellent.

From his perch on top Dumpster, Kibbles meowed, the innocent "Save me" meow that sometimes women are known to give out to act out the Damsel in Distress part in front of males they want to make out with. Only Kibbles wanted no making out. Kibbles the cat was smart, and Jesse knew it. Many people had the tendency to undermine cats and believe that they were selfish and location oriented. While this was true, many overlooked the fact that cats were smart animals. Jesse stared straight into Kibbles' eyes and Kibbles started back just as boldly, meowing again. It seemed an innocent meow but Jesse being a cat rescue veteran knew better. This meow was deception at its best, and Jesse nearly fell for it, but he caught himself on time. He was here on a mission. A mission to take this runaway cat to his owner before things got out of hand, like Kibbles ending up with dirty fur or bad kitty breath, which is something Kibble's owner would never be able to live with! Oh dear no!

Jesse steadied his stance and adopted "attack" position. You could almost hear the old Western "face-off" music playing in the back ground at this point. The sky overhead was dark, deep and mysterious, straight out of a Gotham night. The Dumpster was green and graphitized, truly heinous, just like the lair of a villain should be where in this case the villain is a cat. The sweat on Jesse N. Richardson's brow glinted momentarily before he wiped it off, preparing to lunge at the bad cat. Kibbles, ever the brainy cat, knew what was happening and hissed at Jesse. However no amount of hissing could startle the stout heart of Jesse N. Richardson.

More importantly, Jesse could not afford to mess this rescue mission up. This was the first time Jesse had been introduced to the elusive owner of the cat, a beautiful woman who avoided the others in Jesse's neighbourhood. Jesse wanted to create a good impression as a strong personality and excellent first impression was vital to gain confidence in his clients. It was important that Jesse returned Kibbles as soon as possible with as little damage as possible. By damage, this meant that there could be no dirty fur, no wounds, no broken claws or injured paws. If such situations arose, Jesse would dutifully make a trip to his best friend Avery's house and treat the unfortunate feline with the help of Avery, who's stepfather was a veterinary surgeon and ran a private practice at Avery's house. Jesse was fervently hoping that today's mission would not come to any of these mishaps. Occasionally, Jesse would track down dogs, but the thrill of tracking an unwilling cat unmatched following a faithful yet somewhat confused runaway dog. Cats were elusive creatures whereas dogs made their presence known easily. This fact in itself made Jesse more impervious in his duty as a cat rescuer.

One huge missed jump and a flying cat later, Jesse found himself in the Dumpster. Oh joy! He even had new friends! Why, there was a rotting fish-head, a roll of used diapers and even a lump of mouldy cheese. However, nothing, could make Jesse vacillate from his mission. Not even a stinky, gaping fish-head. Admittedly, Jesse had been in far worse situations so he didn't mind landing in a Dumpster in comparison to other much dire circumstances. Well at least it wasn't like the time when I broke into Mrs. Green-Goose's house he thought. Immediately Jesse's mind reeled back to a time several months ago when he had been scouting his best friend Avery's cat Milton on Mrs. Green-Goose's roof and had unfortunately crashed into the bathroom where Mr. Green-Goose had been taking a bath.

Dragging himself out of the Dumpster in record time, Jesse scrambled over the trashcans and watched the now fast moving swishy tail of Kibbles the Cat. Gears in motion, Jesse was running behind his opponent, gaining speed, and one could hear the epic music playing in the background... and then they were on the street crossing an intersection, Kibbles running and Jesse N. Richardson in hot pursuit and it was so close... so very close.... until Jesse found himself falling, falling and falling like some bizarre, twisted scene out of Alice in Wonderland and he couldn't even find time to scream because he landed to fast, landing in the sewer system of the city. Jesse looked up and the drain-entrance seemed so far away. The manhole light was the size of half a postage stamp and maybe it was Jesse's imagination but it seemed to be growing smaller and further away. Jesse groaned. The sewer smelled like someone's unclean toilet. Well, that kind of was the purpose of a sewer. To drain toilets, Jesse thought sheepishly. He looked around. There was not much light and the smell was unbearable. Summing up his courage, Jesse took a tentative step in which he hoped was the right direction.

This was going to be a long night for Jesse N. Richardson.