You Can't Live Alone
“Happy New Year,” Travie mumbled, raising her glass of ginger ale to Matty, Pouncival, Electra, Sillabub, Misto Jr. and Tugger Jr.’s glasses. They clinked and swallowed.
“Why did your mom lock us in here?” Pouncival asked again.
“So we can’t have any fun.”
“All I wanted to do is go down to the Kitty Klub. The game’s on, in more than one way.”
“One day you guys are gonna get caught,” Misto Jr. said.
“Misto, you act like we’re sinners.”
“Well, gambling is a sin.”
“But we don’t do it as a constant hobby!” Matty protested.
“You used to.”
“Well they changed,” Tugger Jr. defended them.
“Exactly,” Sillabub agreed.
“This is boring,” Pouncival moaned. “Bomby even turned off the cable. Just because the Playtom channel is turned on on New Year’s Eve.
“Is that so?” Electra smiled. She and Pouncival really seemed to have it going.
“Where is your mom?” Matty asked.
Travie sighed. “The Howler again. She has a new job there as a dancer. She’s really good.”
“You went? And you didn’t take me?” Pouncival exclaimed.
“Shut-up. I don’t feel like talking. Too much ginger ale.”
“Oh that’ll go well in the Kitten Weekly,” Sillabub said.
“Yeah, ‘Cat Gets Stoned From Ginger Ale." I can see it all now,” Matty joked.
“Hey Mat, what’d the doc say about your ‘psyological disposition disunity’?”
Matty sighed with a grin. “He says that I just will never fit in.”
“Cool!” They downed more ginger ale. Pouncival and Matty alone had taken in six two liter bottles of the soda.
“This new year better be better than the first,” Travie said, flipping through three channels over and over. “I thought she cut off the cable, not earth contact.”
“Turn on the radio.”
“NO.” Misto and Tugger Jr. said.
“Why not?” Matty asked.
“Cos I wanna listen to Limp Bizkit,” Tugger Jr said.
“And I wanna listen to the Offspring,” Misto Jr. growled.
“Oflfimpspricketing,” Travie and Matty said, Matty attempting to say Offpsring, Travie saying Limp Bizkit.
“How about Britney Spears?” Pouncival suggested.
“Pouncival, you don’t like pop.”
“Oh yeah. Go Limp Bizkit!” Pouncival cheered Travie and Tugger Jr. on!”
“Yeah, definetly Limp,” everyone agreed except Misto Jr. and Matty.
“Matty, it’s unanimous,” Electra patted her on the back. “Just give in.”
“No, cos it’s not fair. We wouldn’t make you listen to the Offspring if you don’t like them, so why should we have to listen to Limp Bizkit?”
“Cos it’s unanimous.”
“I’m not listening to Limp again! My brothers listen to it non-stop!”
“Then leave!” Sillabub said. Apparently, she didn’t realize how much exactly Matty didn’t like Limp Bizkit.
“You with me Junior?” she looked to Misto Jr.
“Sure.”
“Matty, we was just joking…”
“Shut-up. You’ll see me next year.” Misto Jr. and she walked out.
“What a sore loser,” Electra mumbled.
“Yeah, she’s like that all the time. But don’t be too harsh. After all…she wouldn’t make us listen to the Offpring, if she knows we don’t like them.”
“Well it’s too late for that. She’s gone.”
“Yep,” Travie agreed.
Meanwhile, Misto Jr. and Matty were at the Tailz Bar, where there was a card game going on. They weren’t playing, just betting each other on who would win. Misto Jr. wasn’t really permitted to do that sort of thing, so they kept it quiet.
Matty continuously won because she was an expirienced better, Alonzo had taught her before he had become all grown-up. They would had a lot of fun—if their friends had been there. When everyone was gone, around three in the morning, Misto Jr. and Matty were no more tired nor were they lactose drunk, and they were now playing Kings’ Korners in the dark.
“Matty, you better go,” the barmaid said.
“Okay. Happy New Year, Maria. And thanks for letting the Tiger stay.” That’s what they called Misto Jr. Oh, and thanks for playing “She’s Got Issues” seven times in a row.”
“My pleasure. Love that song. Are you sure you aren’t mad at your friends?”
“Nah. I had more fun here than at that house. It’s too bad they weren’t here. But sure they and Fred Durst had fun.” Misto Jr. laughed.
“Bye Matty.”
Matty took Misto Jr. to her shack with her. When they walked in Limp Bizkit was playing louder than ever.
“No appreciation whatsoever.” Misto Jr. giggled.
But she had really had had enough of the Offspring for the time being, and popped in Blink~182’s Enema of the State CD. After awhile, there was a knock on the bedroom door.
In barged Quaxo’s and a team of cats she had never seen in her life.
“What the he—“
“Clean over there, there, there—Matropolis, you’re gonna have to get outta here.
“Quaxo, this is my room—you can’t just barge in and start cleaning!”
“Correction Matropolis, this is our room. Move!” A giant vacuum flew in front of her face.
“AAAAAHHHHH!” She ran from her very own room and sat at the kitchen table. There was apparently no hiding, because Jemima and Tumblebrutus were cuddling on the chair next to her
.
“Can’t you make out elsewhere?” Matty snapped.
“Why?” Tumble asked.
“Because—why should I explain to you? You don’t even live here! Get!”
“Now Matropolis—“
“Why is everyone using my full name?”
“Seriously, I really don’t think that we should have to—“
“No one cares! I’m not in the mood to know what you think! Right now Misto Jr. and I are going to sit at this table, get over this serious hangover, and you’re going to move!”
“You got Misto Jr. a hangover?” Jemima gasped.
“Too much milk… he’s been lettin’ out some really nice ones.”
“MATROPOLIS!” Jemima scolded. Matty grinned.
“Do that one you did earlier!” Matty urged.
“Matty, don’t encourage him!”
“Shh.” Misto Jr. gathered up all his breath.
“BBBBBBBBUUUUUUHHHHHHHH!” he belched.
“Good one!”
“Ugh, nasty! You really need to grow up!” Jemima and Tumble left right after that.
“What for? Man, I thought they’d never leave.”
“Matty, I like it when you babysit me. You’re a lot better than when Jemima or Sillabub babysit me. Too many rules.”
“Hey Junior, do that thing I taught you.” Misto spit and it sprung across the room and richocheted off the walls. “Seven time, coming along nicely.” After a bit of a silence, Matty knew sh ewould have to take the little guy home. “Come one Junior.”
“What?”
“I gotta take you back to your mommy.”
Misto Jr. groaned. “But it’s lonely there. Tugger and I never get to do the fun stuff you and Travie let us do.”
“One day, my man, they’ll understand real fun.”
“Yeah. Adults today think we find fun in those stupid 3-D puzzles.”
“What adults need to get us today is spit targets,” matty told him.
“You can get those?”
“Sure. And if you can’t, we could make one.”
“Could we?” Misto Jr. asked hopefully.
“Not now I’m afraid. But I’ll ask Mungojerrie for the stuff and we’ll make one next time, kay?”
“Okay.”
Matty wrapped him in his scarf and they headed into the snow. They ran into Travie and Tugger Jr. going to the same place.
“My mom wouldn’t lets us make spitballs out of cardboard,” Travie said.
“It would have been fun too,” Tugger Jr. pouted.
“Ya know, it’d be great if we lived in our own place,” Matty thought aloud.
“Yeah.”
They came to the house which contained Victoria. They knocked on the kitty door. Victoria was already there, glaring at them angrily.
“Where were you guys last night?” she asked.
“I took Tugger to the Kitty Klub,” Travie admitted.
“You did?” Matty asked in surprise.
“And where were you?” Victoria asked Matty.
“Tailz Bar,” Matty. “Please, one more chance!”
“Once more. Again. But I mean it this time. This is the very last. I need to to sit them next week. Got it? Maybe you should trade posts or something…” Victoria dragged her kittens inside.
Travie and Matty walked away from the house, not sure where they were headed. “My mom is pretty peeved at me. Socketlarose says I ripped up her good sweater, then played the ‘oh-it’s-not-her-fault’ game, which made my mom think Socketlarose was being nice and I was bad, when I didn’t rip the sweater up in the first place!” Travie took a deep breath.
“Our shack’s getting’ too crowded. I wonder what we’re gonna do.” They seperated into the Jellicle Junkyard.
“Happy New Year!” Alonzo cried as Matty walked in the shack his voice slurred.
“I wonder what he’s been drinkin’?” Mattyt whispered to Sillabub.
“Brandy, actually. He found a case of Brandy in Pouncival’s basement.”
“Oh jeez.”
“Where’s Junior?” Silla asked.
“Had to take him home. I was getting’ really peesed off.”
“Heh. Too bad there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Matty sighed.
“Tell me about it.”
Matropolis stumbled into her room and flopped on her bed, where Misto had spread ou the newly developed Chrsitmas pictures.
“MISTOFFELEES! What in God’s name have you done?”
“I’m looking at the Christmas pictures, Matty. Would you care to—“
“Ughhh!” Matty stormed back into the kitchen and crunched into a stale Santa cookie.
“Matty, what’s wrong?” she heard Mark’s soft voice ask.
She calmed down.
“Everything. “There just bein’ really mean and cruel and—“
“Ohahuhhohahhhhhhh!” Alonzo’s voice echoed from the bathroom.
“—loud.”
“Well, wait until they calm down, or, in Alonzo’s case, sober, and talk to them. Sleep on it.”
“The only thing I can sleep on is Misto’s Christmas photos—there spread all over my bunk!”
Mark grumbled. “You’re right. Until then, sleep on the floor.” And with that, Mark disappeared out the door.
Mark stumbled back in. “Forgot my hat.” He snatched it and walked back out.
**********************************************************************
The next day Matty demanded she sit down with her family and talk about the problem.
“What, Matropolis? What is so important you dragged us all in the kitchen when we have things to do?” Alonzo asked stiffly.
“It’s my living conditions. I have found that my bed has been taken over—“ Misto looked at the floor guiltily. “—the kitchen table is no longer in use—“ she glared at Jemima, but she didn’t make a move or even blush. “—I have no attention of my siblings—“ Alonzo tried not to show anything. “—and I’m getting late night calls.” She glanced to Boxer who was just grinning. “And poor Cliffy and Chewie are still sleeping on the floor!”
“Look, I’ve been telling you I’m gonna pull this together, we all are, but—“
“But you’re not! See, I can’t live like this. It’s gonna drive me nuts! And I don’t have far to go to begin with.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I… I want to move out.”
Her sibling just stared at her.
“Are you serious, Matty?” Sillabub asked.
“Yes. Positively. I think it’s time that I did.”
“Matropolis, believe it or don’t—“
“That’s ‘believe it or not’, Alonzo,” Mezoa corrected.
“Whatever. The point is, a couple days ago, Demeter came to call at this very shack. She was asking to adopt Jemima.”
“Adopt me?” Jemima asked curiously.
“Yes. She said that she and Munkustrap would really love to have you in their home since they no longer have kittens, and they think it’s the best for you, considering the room we have left in this shack. Demeter said that you would probably like to live in her and Munkustrap’s home.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to live with them! I miss Demeter so much now!”
“Hey, that’s great, but what does this have to do with me?” Matty asked.
“Matropolis, I may regret saying this, but Bombalurina and I were talking… and we think that it could work well if you got a roommate and lived elsewhere on your own.”
She was shocked. “You— You’re serious?”
Alonzo nodded.
“Wow—I don’t believe it… It’s brilliant!” Alonzo looked proud. “But, um, who’s my roomie?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
“Wow,” Matty repeated.
They just all sat in awe for a moment; in total disbeleif.
“Wow,” Cliffy said.
“And, we already found an apartment. It’s owned by an alleycat, but it’s perfect. It’s just outside the junkyard,” Alonzo said.
“I’ll get my things…”
*************************************************************************
Matty set the last of her things in their place. She had her magazines, all 125 copies stacked against the walls, the walls flowing with posters, her room with lots o fpictures of familys and friends. The floor was a little dirty, but who would notice? It was truly Matropolis, it reflected her true personality. But she had no roommate.
Matty walked to Bombalurina’s Alleyway. Unfortunately or fortunately, she walked into a fight.
“NOOOOO! She can’t stay! She’s a cat from hell!!!! I’d rather live with Macavity than her!!!” Travie screamed at her mother.
“Travie,” Bomby said calmly. “CT is always nice to you, I don’t see why you’re acting this way…”
“BECAUSE! She’s the devil in disguise I tell you! The devil in disguise!”
Through all this CT sat innocently next to her mother and Ricky—AND RICKY?!?!?!?! Matty did a doubletake and realized it realley was Ricky.
“Ricky?” Matty called. He and his new love looked up. “I don’t believe it.” Matropolis wanted run up to him and throw her arms around him, then slap him so hard his family in Mexico would feel it.
“How do you know him?” CT asked. Bombalurina suddenly looked ashamed, but Travisina was grinning.
“How do I know him? How do I know him? Because, we damn near fell in love and then left me and my family for his wife. Maria.
“What?!” CT jumped back and glared at him.
“I told you I knew him,” Travie said, nodding in satisfaction.
“Mother—how come you didn’t tell me?” CT asked Bombalurina.
“Because… you seemed so… happy.”
“Well I’m not!” CT snarled. But not at her mother. At Ricky. “Go away Ricky, I don’t ever want to see your loser face again!”
Ricky began to walk down the alleyway.
“Ricky, wait!” Matty cried with near sorrow. He ran over to her. Matty punched him in the eye. “Bye.”
Ricky left the junkyard.
“What a jackass.”
**************************************************************************
Travie moved the last of her stuff in her new apartment. All ov her stuff went pretty well with Matty’s, besides her Limp Bizkit poster, which was on the opposite side of the house as Matty’s The Offpring poster. Matty also some fish on the wall, some winning UNO cards, and {shh!} a photograph of Mark.
Travie had quite the opposite. Travie had a feather collection that had her most prized bird feathers, 13 Aces of Spades, and a huge photograph of Mistoffelees. But they didn’t argue, because their home was just that, and nothing more.
Actually, two half cat-half kittens living together always have some weird results…
That fic was kinda lame... but it's necessary to know that they live together now. I guarentee the next fic is VERY funny.
