Bloody Black Backpack
Jemima looked at her most prized possession—her little black backpack Gus had given her for turning a year-old, right before he died. She used it all the time, to carry the things she needed most.
Today, she was walking through the junkyard, skipping happily, and she ran into Skimbelshanks’ nephew, Buster Britches. She was sure Buster liked her, and she liked him. But at the time she was with Tumblebrutus.
He walked up to her with a smile fixed on his face.
“Jemima!” he called.
“Wha?” she turned around as if she hadn’t noticed him.
“Jemima, will you come over to my house tonight so I can tell you something. It’s really important, and I can’t say it in the open.”
“Sure, I guess so.” She thought the request was kind of foggy, but it couldn’t be bad.
Skipping a few hours which were spent by showing off her little black backpack, she went over to Buster’s around 6:30.
“Hey Buster, I’m here! What’d you wanna say that was so--” she looked both ways. “—secretive?”
“Well Jem…it’s like this…” he didn’t know how to explain what he had called her there for. He liked her. He wanted her. Bad.
He pulled her close and kissed her. She jumped back for a second in astonishment, only to rejoin again, necking now.
Meanwhile, Tumblebrutus was pacing around his house, waiting for Jemima.
“She’s probably cheating on you,” Pouncival suggested.
“She would never!” Tumble defended. “She’s probably…caught up in traffic.” He had heard their human say that before.
“You are so blind, man!” Pouncival laughed. Matty decided soemthing was about tp happen, so she started making phone calls to her camera crew: Pouncival (who was already there), Cliffy, Chewie, Electra, Misto Jr., Tugger Jr., Mezoa and Sillabub. She didn’t bother trying to get a hold of Jemima, because she had disappeared right after dinner.
Nothing happened. Because Jemima never came. But Matty could feel the moment coming. It was going to be better than ever.
“Same place tomorrow,” Matty whispered to her camera crew.
The next day was a school day, so Jemima flated around school bragging about her backpack.
But then, Matty passed her in hall. And “couldn’t help hearing”—okay, she was eavs-dropping, but she heard something interesting.
“And we were necking, and it was so good!” Jemima exclaimed to her newfound friend, Bearicaide.
“Gee, you got better luck than me.” Then Jemima hung her head.
“But I’m dating Tumblebrutus.”
“Dump ‘im.”
Matty gasped. Now she had stopped behind Jemima’s locker door to listen.
“I can’t—it’ll hurt too much.”
The bell rang.
Necking! Who the hell with? Not Tumble! But she was right—who was to tell
Tumble? He had been hurt so many times before. Well, that wasn’t part of Matty’s duties. Still…
The rest of the day went along fine, but Matty couldn’t help thinking. He’d have to know soon, right?
Wrong. Days passed, each time the camera crew meeting at Tumble’s for resons he did not know, but nothing happened. Matty began to wonder if Jemima would go on cheating on Tumble forever. But Tumble was convinced he standing up problem was due to other personal problems, and refused to talk to her about it. It wasn’t personal, it was lying.
At Buster’s house however, they were living in the grand times. Watching a movie together, cuddling. But Jemima’s conscience was starting to yell at her uncontrollable and was on the verge of physically abusing her.
“Buster?”
“Yeah babe?”
“I hate holding this from Tumble.”
“Well you said you didn’t wanna break his heart.”
“I know, but…”
“So what do you want to do?” Jemima sighed. Buster had done it again. Weasled his way into her head to con her out of telling Tumble.
On this same night, Tumble got tired of waiting. “I give up! I’m going to visit someone! Move on with my life.”
“Yeah. How?” Pouncival asked. Matty yawned.
“I’ll visit someone…Buster!”
Matty and the rest crew perked up immediately.
“We must go with you!” Matty exclaimed. “Come on!” she pulled hin out the door.
They hurried quickly and quietly, careful not to be caught, across the junkyard, out of the junkyard. Down to Buster Britches.
Tumblebrutus burst in the door gleefully. “Buster, old—“
“Tumble and Buster, round one!” Matty called.
“Cling!” Electra made a bell sound
“JEMIMA!” Jemima turned around at the sound of his voice.
“Tumble?”
“What in God’s name are you doing with—him?” he sounded revolted, as if she was with Macavity or Bustopher Jones.
“We just, uh…”
“I thought you were…”
“Caught up in traffic!” Pouncival butt in with a laugh.
“This isn’t your fault! This is sexual harassment, isn’t it?”
“Man, Tumble refuses to take facts,” Pouncival said almost sadly.
“Well he hasn’t admitted he’s a basketcase has he?” They laughed. “Roll it!” Cliffy tuned on the video camera on Tumble, Buster and Jemima.
”Now…I know it.”
Jemima hung her head, tired of her own lies.
Tumble refused in his mind to believe that Jemima had been cheating on him. ”It’s a shame, a shame I can’t show it.” He refused to cry.
“What a dolt,” Electra whispered to Sillabub.
”And I can see it. I can see it now…” Tumblebrutus was replacing his sadness with anger quicker than he could supply. ”But I’m so far below.”
“Maybe we should get his a psyciatrist,” Sillabub thought aloud.
Tumble’s usual soft eyes turned feirce.
“Please tell me everything,” Tumble began.
“No, I can’t bare to…”
“Hey cornflake!” Matty called. Tumble whipped around. “Get a shot of his face.”
“Don’t wanna, don’t wanna talk about—I say ‘Why not?’…”
“Tumble, not now… Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Please leave.” And that was all Jemmie asked of him. Tumble obeyed and turned around. The other kittens didn’t follow. They were trying to get a couple shots of Buster who had hidded behind the TV. “Buster, I knew this would happen…”
“It’s okay baby…” Buster held her in his paws. “He can’t do anything to me.”
Buster was wrong.
The next couple of days the film kittens filmed after school and during lunch, where Jemima refused to explain to Tumble what was going on behind his back. She was too scared.
”Don’t wanna think about it—I say there’s got to be some good reason for your little black backpack, up-smack, turn around, he’s on his back…” Tumble got fire in his eyes on that afternoon. He was determined to prove this cheating incident was all Buster’s fault. He stomped right towards Buster’s house.
As it began, Pouncival immediately gathered the film crew, Travie even brought her no-flash camera since she wasn’t booked with Mistoffelees. They began to follow Tumble, when unfortunately at Buster’s house he shut the door in Pouncival’s face.
“We’ll have to film from out here,” Pouncival grumbled. He wiped at the fogged up window. “It won’t come in good, but red always comes in bright anyway.”
“You really think he’ll—“ Electra started.
Pouncival nodded a little sadly.
Matty stuggled to set up the camera recorder. It beginning to tick her off. She had carried her camera with her everywhere, caught every little dirty look Tumble shot Buster and every sympathetic one he sent Jemima. She had even successed in discovering Jemima was still cheating on him with Buster, and it was all on tape. This was gonna hurt.
But the camera wouldn’t set up. Matty bounced all over the place, finally getting her paw stuck in the tripod legs. But it was filming.
Inside, however, much worse things were happenening. Tumblebrutus made no hesitations. He walked right up to Jemima and carefully but quickly took her paws.
“Please don’t hurt him,” Jemima said quietly. “Me instead… not him.”
”Don’t wanna tangle with you, I’d rather tangle with him—“ Tumble looked to Buster. The moment their eyes meant, the kittens lost interest in filming and saw that Tumble really was going to beat all the crud out of Buster. Tumble wasn’t the biggest, but he was stong enough to do it.
He let go of Jemima. ”I think I’m gonna bash his head in!”
Tumblebutus leapt at Buster Britches. Though the kittens were terrified for Buster and Tumble, they had to film it. Buster attempted to go at his face, but Tumble beat him to the chase. He scratched Buster across his face, leaving four curving red marks.
Buster didn’t give up. He bit Tumble’s tail and Tumble yowled, but Tumblebrutus yanked his pratically out of his body.
“Tumble, please stop! Tumble—“
Tumblebrutus pushed her back gently. ”This shouldn’t conscern you except that: just don’t expect to get your bloody black backpack back.”
Buster was not in the best condition at this point, and the kittens were starting to worry. Just not enough to stop filming.
“Tumble’s really serious,” Mark said.
“We better stop ‘im,” Mattysaid, though she still couldn’t move.
“Oh yeah, and how?” Pouncival implied.
“I don’t know! I’m kinda in a tight position just now!” Pouncival giggled a little.
“So what can we do?”
“Get help, you numbskull!” Matty snapped, struggled to get out of the tripod, only getting more stuck.
“There’s no help for you,” Pouncival grinned.
“Not for me, for Buster, you idiot!” Pouncival pounced away, hopefully getting help.
Matty watched inside as Tumblebrutus looked to Jemima then to Buster.
”I can feel you. Yes I can, what about that don’t you understand?” sang Tumble, running his paw down Jemima’s soft fur. ”And I sense you. Something sensual, but it’s less then I planned.”
Suddenly, Matty could see the anger returning in Tumble’s soft green eyes. Don’t wanna tangle with you, I’d rather tangle with him…” Tumblebrutus jupmed at Buster, Jemima screamed and Buster was pinned to the carpet. “I’m trying to find a reason for the way you feel tonight. Your mind is mine with layers of lead…”
“BUSTER!” Jemima screamed as blood trickled from his cut.
“Have you heard one thing that I said?” Tumblebrutus snapped.
And the brawl when on. Meanwhile, Matty;s tail was becoming permanenty shaped into the tripod stand, and Pouncival still hadn’t returned.
And then he was there. “POUNCIVAL, WHERE WERE YOU?!?!?!?!”
“Oh, well, I met this fine cat along the way and—“
“Did you get help?”
“Help? I was suppose to get help? Why didn’t you tell me that before I left—“
“ARGHHHHHH!” Matty screamed. “You complete and total fool!”
Then there was a shrill scream. From Buster. Everyoen turned to the window. There was blood everywhere.
“HELP HIM!” Poucival screamed.
“I CAN’T!!!” Matty screamed back.
”Just don’t ecpect to get your bloody black backpack back.” And with that, Tumble left with Jemima’s bloody black backpack flung over his shoulder.
The filmers just looked at each other for a long time.
Jemima ran outside. “He’s dead! He’s dead!” she screamed. “What am I going to do?”
Pouncival, Electra, Travie, Sillabub, Mezoa, Mark, Cliffy, Chewie, Misto Jr., Tugger Jr. and Matty stuck in the tripoid still just looked at each. Then, all at once they cried out, Disco Inferno!”
