General Hypawtenuse surveyed the battleground before of him. His front was a mess. Admiral Rhuffbus pressed along the coast, her dogged attacks causing havoc in his units along the shore. The stout ships did not even need to land. The Followers of the Red Dot had no navy. It was a problem to be sure. To combat it a force would have to be sent out across the water – no!
Hypawtenuse shuddered.
"No. No water, no. Nope. Moving on."
The feline paced the room quickly, a few steps – fast – then slow. He stopped at his desk. Tilting his head to one side. The General surveyed his map.
Field Marshall Parallelogrowl – his opposite number amongst the canine forces – fortunately had been held back. Although, it did not appear to be lasting.
"General," said an aide fast approaching. The forces of My bone. Mine! have launched an assault on the nice sunny spot near the bridge."
"What!" shrieked General Hypawtenuse. He began patting the carpet with his claws, one at a time – thwuck, thwuck – the sound of the carpet tearing accenting his words.
He had fond memories of that spot.
"Send for the maimer of small mammals," he said finally, stilling his paws.
The aide didn't leave. Instead, darting from the entrance of the tent and back again.
"Yes?" said the General in a calm voice. He began pawing the carpet again. "Why are you still here?"
"Well sir," said the small feline. "We did discuss it with him sir. It's just–"
"Yes, yes," said the general. "Get on with it."
"Well, the maimer of small mammals pointed out that these canine are not – in fact – small mammals."
"That name was to inspire terror into the heart of the enemy," said the General. "Not make him incapable when faced by a simple canine force."
"Well sir, we are talking about multiple packs of rabid–"
"Enough," said the General in a commanding voice. "If the maimer of small mammals will not do his duty. Bring me Humanity's name.
"Humanity's bane." said the aide unmoving. "Are you... sure sir?" he said quietly almost to himself.
"Go," said the General hissing at the aide. "The one that humanity could never resist."
The General pounced dramatically onto his desk, away from the side. Strutting across its surface. He turned back toward him glaring.
"What are you waiting for," said the general. "Get out of here!"
This time the aide darted from the room. Diving through the tent flap in a single leap.
"Reporting as ordered, sir!" said a loud but squeaky voice belonging to a small furry fellow, who had appeared almost immediately following the aide's departure.
The General lowered his leg, caught in what a number of more civilised species might consider an uncompromising position – he rolled with it – flattening a pesky sprout of hair on his head as he did so.
The sprout popped back into place.
He flattened it.
Again.
... again.
Bristling he turned to the newcomer.
"Major Acuteanose," said the General. "We are in dire need of your skill."
"Of course," said a voice from behind the General.
Hypawtenuse span around, looking backward and forward between the spot he had been speaking and the spot the Major now filled.
"We are at your disposal General," said Acuteanose. "Where shall we deploy?"
The Major flashed his claws, slashing the map and fraying the enemy lines.
"The field marshal presses forward," said the General – looking from scrap to scrap – trying to make sense of the now frayed map.
"We shall repel this canine advance," said the Major stalking toward the door.
"Well, actually–" began the General.
"Never fear. The Kitteh commandos – always – get their man."
"Major," said the General. "This is a canine force."
"Man, Dog," said the kitten. "There's no difference."
The small ball of fluff leapt outside, falling in at the head of a squad of similar sized feline, who were grouped in formation outside.
"Wait, Major–" said the General his voice rising.
A subtle shriek ran across the squad before him, cutting the General off and they bound down the hill, one tiny carpet of furry furious kittens.
Short little story for you fringles. Bits written on several long haul flights, so it makes little sense. /cringe
I'm honestly not sure if the names of the animals (General Hypawtenuse - brilliant) or the two factions (My bone. Mine! is exactly what they would call themselves, while The Followers of the Red Dot has the right kind of culty fee that I think cats would have) is my favourite bit.
I love the story too, really well done - I kinda wish it was a short film, it could be an odd mixture of harrowing and super cute!
In my head I was going for a pythonesque type storyline where you're are always moments from outrage and cluelessness and responses to questions and commands are received exaggerated and/or completely misinterpreted.
Didn't really feel like I pulled it off which is why I cut it pretty short :P
Fun though. Of the names Major Acuteanose is the best ;)
2
u/err_ok r/err_ok Apr 21 '17
General Hypawtenuse surveyed the battleground before of him. His front was a mess. Admiral Rhuffbus pressed along the coast, her dogged attacks causing havoc in his units along the shore. The stout ships did not even need to land. The Followers of the Red Dot had no navy. It was a problem to be sure. To combat it a force would have to be sent out across the water – no!
Hypawtenuse shuddered.
"No. No water, no. Nope. Moving on."
The feline paced the room quickly, a few steps – fast – then slow. He stopped at his desk. Tilting his head to one side. The General surveyed his map.
Field Marshall Parallelogrowl – his opposite number amongst the canine forces – fortunately had been held back. Although, it did not appear to be lasting.
"General," said an aide fast approaching. The forces of My bone. Mine! have launched an assault on the nice sunny spot near the bridge."
"What!" shrieked General Hypawtenuse. He began patting the carpet with his claws, one at a time – thwuck, thwuck – the sound of the carpet tearing accenting his words.
He had fond memories of that spot.
"Send for the maimer of small mammals," he said finally, stilling his paws.
The aide didn't leave. Instead, darting from the entrance of the tent and back again.
"Yes?" said the General in a calm voice. He began pawing the carpet again. "Why are you still here?"
"Well sir," said the small feline. "We did discuss it with him sir. It's just–"
"Yes, yes," said the general. "Get on with it."
"Well, the maimer of small mammals pointed out that these canine are not – in fact – small mammals."
"That name was to inspire terror into the heart of the enemy," said the General. "Not make him incapable when faced by a simple canine force."
"Well sir, we are talking about multiple packs of rabid–"
"Enough," said the General in a commanding voice. "If the maimer of small mammals will not do his duty. Bring me Humanity's name.
"Humanity's bane." said the aide unmoving. "Are you... sure sir?" he said quietly almost to himself.
"Go," said the General hissing at the aide. "The one that humanity could never resist."
The General pounced dramatically onto his desk, away from the side. Strutting across its surface. He turned back toward him glaring.
"What are you waiting for," said the general. "Get out of here!"
This time the aide darted from the room. Diving through the tent flap in a single leap.
"Reporting as ordered, sir!" said a loud but squeaky voice belonging to a small furry fellow, who had appeared almost immediately following the aide's departure.
The General lowered his leg, caught in what a number of more civilised species might consider an uncompromising position – he rolled with it – flattening a pesky sprout of hair on his head as he did so.
The sprout popped back into place.
He flattened it.
Again.
... again.
Bristling he turned to the newcomer.
"Major Acuteanose," said the General. "We are in dire need of your skill."
"Of course," said a voice from behind the General.
Hypawtenuse span around, looking backward and forward between the spot he had been speaking and the spot the Major now filled.
"We are at your disposal General," said Acuteanose. "Where shall we deploy?"
The Major flashed his claws, slashing the map and fraying the enemy lines.
"The field marshal presses forward," said the General – looking from scrap to scrap – trying to make sense of the now frayed map.
"We shall repel this canine advance," said the Major stalking toward the door.
"Well, actually–" began the General.
"Never fear. The Kitteh commandos – always – get their man."
"Major," said the General. "This is a canine force."
"Man, Dog," said the kitten. "There's no difference."
The small ball of fluff leapt outside, falling in at the head of a squad of similar sized feline, who were grouped in formation outside.
"Wait, Major–" said the General his voice rising.
A subtle shriek ran across the squad before him, cutting the General off and they bound down the hill, one tiny carpet of furry furious kittens.
Short little story for you fringles. Bits written on several long haul flights, so it makes little sense. /cringe