Shtuff On A Shingle
“Did you fix it?”
“Fix what?” Matty pertended she didn’t know what Travie was talking about.
“The pipes, you idiot!”
“Ohh,” Matty sounded enlightened. “Those pipes.”
“Duh,” Travie mumbled
“Well, you see Trav, I started, but Two Guys and A Girl came on, so I couldn’t finish. It was the one where Pete got lost in Paris and—“
“Matty!”
“Anyway, I was just going to finish it after, but then Mungojerrie called and I went over to Victoria Grove and you know how that goes…”
“Try me.”
Matty sighed. “Well, I was hanging out there and Mungo suggested that he fix them the next day but then he went on that trip to see his grandmother…”
“Matty, why can’t you just admit you fell asleep on the toilet?”
“I was tired!” Matty exclaimed.
“That’s not the point. The point is, you promised to fix them.”
“Why don’t you fix them.”
“Because I had to fix the bathtub two days ago and it was not fun.”
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll fix it today.”
“You’ll fix it now,” Trav ordered handing Matty a pipe wrench. “Good luck.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Actually, to Pouncival’s. Card game, remember?”
“Oh man. Can’t I do this later?” Matty asked.
“Only if you want a nose like Chewie’s.” Matty sat for a minute and thought of her friend Peke’s nose. He was part Chow, and had a pug nose, which was pushed in nearly flat.
“Okay, I’ll do it. But not happily.”
“Just do it. I’ll meet you at Pouncival’s when you’re done.”
“Yes Mother,” Matty groaned.
“Oh, grow up.” They just looked at each other for a couple seconds.
“What’d you say that for?”
“I don’t know, it just came out.” They shrugged and Matty was left alone in their apartment.
She glanced out the window, then bounced on the couch and turned on the TV.
The phone rang.
Like an idiot, she answered it.
“Hello?”
“Matropolis?”
“Trav!” Matty started to sweat.
“I know you’re not fixing it. Why not?”
“I’m getting right to it. Okay bye—“
“And don’t forget to tighten the—“
“Okay, bye.”
“Don’t lose the—“
“BYE—“
“And do it right when I get off the—“
“I’m turning on The Offspring,” Matty reached for the stereo. Travie hung up. Matty did eventually turn on her CD player, but she didn’t play The Offspring. She played Blink-182. She turned it up really loud and walked in the bathroom.
Matropolis had to fix the toilet pipes. They had exploded last weekend from something and instead of calling for an expensive plumber, Matty persuaded Travie to believe she could fix it. That wasn’t exactly true, she meant she would get Mungojerrie or Rumpelteazer to do it, but now they were playing cards with Travie.
Matty opened a window so she could get some air into the room. She was certain that this was going to stink. She crawled into the back of the toilet. There was something plugging a hole…
POP! Water spurted from the hole and sprayed the walls and ceilings of the bathroom.
“Oh great,” Matty thought aloud.
The bathroom began to fill with toilet juice. Matty started going at a couple pipes with wrench. They were all very tight, that they became lose and started to spray as well. Matty wiped the water from her eyes and twisted the wrench again. The rusty and thin pipe snapped. Water sprouted like from the back of a whale.
“This can not be good.”
That’s when it hit her.
She had to go.
Bad.
And it wasn’t just bad.
It was #2.
Maybe I can just get on the tiolet for a second…
Now, toilets were very new to cats, but Munkustrap insisted that they’re much more reasonable and clean than litterbox.
Matty squated onto the miniature toilet.
And she did her business.
BUT, due to the fact the several piped were split or broken, her business shot out of the pipes and out the open window.
It landed on a shingle. The shingle was attached to the bathroom window on the outside. But there it sat, disgustingly graphic, I might add. At first she thought she might leave it there, but then someone was bound to ask how it got there. So she turned her attention from the water-filling bathroom, leaking out into other rooms int eh apartment, to the… “business” on her shingle.
She picked up the tiolet plunger and reached out for “it”. She couldn’t reach.
She poked at it with several items. At last she found something very long. It was Travie’s rolled up Limp Bizkit poster.
She hit the “shtuff.” But just as she was about to bring the poster back in with no success, she dropped it. It plumeted into a mud puddle.
“Oh man.”
As she glared at the stuff on her shingle, the apartment was filling very quickly with water. The tiolet was gurgling. Finally she decided to call Mistoffelees. He would be able to fix it.
She ran to the phone and dialed his number.
He was there in a flash, and fixed it even quicker.
“Thanks a lot Misto. I didn’t know exactly what to do. I still don’t. The apartment is full of water!”
“Yeah. Well, that’s your problem.”
“Thanks again. I don’t know how I could ever pay you back.”
“Well, you could just stay safe here. I’m going to go to Jennyanydots home so I’ll be crossing the other way.”
“Okay.”
When Matropolis was sure Misto was gone from the apartment, the stood on the window sill and knocked “it” off the shingle with her paw. It flew fast down, down, down—towards Mistoffelees’ head.
“MISTO!”
Matty raced down the stairs and up to Misto. She grabbed Travie’s poster and unrolled it over Misto’s head.
SPLAT! It pattered all over the poster.
“What just happened?” Misto asked.
“You don’t wanna know.”
Travie started up the driveway to their apartment.
“I’ll explain later.”
She ran up to Travie. Trav started to open the door.
“I can explain!” Matty cried.
“Explain what?” Travie walked into the inch-deep water. “What the—WHERE’S MY LIMP BIZKIT POSTER?!?!?!?!”
“You’re not going to like this…”
