Little Lies Fiction

Short Stories, Cartoons & Animations

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The Adventures Of Catbaby

boogie_town

Season 1 • Episode 7 • Boogerville

Catbaby here; Let me start out by saying; my hair’s a mess, my whiskers are smearing, and I’m in no mood for do-gooding. I have what everybody is calling a ‘cold’. I can tell you this, I’m not a fan. First of all, it’s not cold. In fact, I feel steamy and cranky, and I’m a sticky mess. My nose is an enigma—it’s completely clogged up, yet it flows like a fountain. Go figure.

As a superhero in training, it’s embarrassing. Superman has his weakness; kryptonite, and It seems I have mine; mucous. That’s just plain pitiful.

Grandpapa’s running around talking about how rich he’ll be when he patents his ‘nose diaper’. He has sketches and technical drawings tucked into a leather messenger bag that he carries everywhere. Bless his heart.

Everyone is keeping their distance, except when they’re pinching my nose with tissues. People ask me to blow—which I do, but it doesn’t help because the goop is in my nose—maybe they should ask me to ‘sneeze’. I’m just saying.

I’m suspending all my superhero training until my nose, the fountain of ooze, dries up. I think I’ll just curl up with a warm bottle of milk, my blankie, and try and survive the trip through Boogerville.

Until next time…sniff…sniff…meow:)

 

The Adventures Of Catbaby

cbaby_melon

Season 1 • Episode 8 • Blue Man

Catbaby here; I’m finally leaving an extended stay in Boogerville. My cold is gone, but my nose is in shambles from the 371 times it was wiped, rubbed, scrubbed and assaulted with tissues, baby wipes, paper towels, and suction devices; and that’s not counting my self-inflicted arm and hand wipes. My nose started looking as bad as it felt (see the Great Sphinx of Giza) and that’s not a good look.

A lot has happened since we last talked: A couple of weeks ago I woke up to big bangs, pops, and shrieking whistles. My parents were all excited. There was a big shindig going on at the lake, and they were talking about an Independence Day celebration, a big fireworks display, and something about ‘Pronto Pups’—woo hoo! I wasn’t sure what all that was, but it sounded like fun—and who doesn’t like ‘fast puppies’ (see what I did there:)

When we arrived at the lake, (I took the day off and left my superhero, Catbaby whisker disguise at home) they put me in a stroller and started wheeling me around; I could get used to that—Driving Miss Catbaby—got a nice ring to it. Hollywood; are you reading this?

Off in the distance was a giant, dancing, Blue man, with arms outstretched, towering above the tents. I pointed my finger, and said “Oooooh, oooooh,” and away we went. He was magnificent; a jelly-boned, rippling wind spirit, with air rockets on his feet, and arms that reached for the sky. I’m a huge fan! He’s got some sweet ninja skills, but I don’t see him sneaking up on anybody.

The other highlights included; Tasting watermelon for the first time, two thumbs up; Eating funnel cake with powdered sugar for the first time, three thumbs up; Watching the turtle races for the last time, hmmmm, ok, maybe it’s an acquired taste.

Then there was the ‘cutest baby contest’ that grandpapa and grandmama insisted I enter. The paparazzi was thick. A bevy of cute toddlers stumbled around happily. When it was my turn, a sea of camera phones flashed as I worked the runway. Stopping halfway, I gave the crowd my, over-the-shoulder-shy-smile—an irresistible genetic gift I inherited from my mom—Bingo!—First place, cutest baby, and first place, best personality.

Just when it seemed like it couldn’t get any better, it did. It turns out I avenged my dad’s second place finish from twenty-five years ago as well—So until next time—Viva la Familia!

—Catbaby

PS—I also discovered my fourth superpower: a disarming, and irresistibly captivating personality. ‘Resistance is futile’🙂

Just Coffee

coffee

I felt zombie-like, as I wandered through the airport.

My odyssey so far had three weather delays and two re-routes. I was booked on a red-eye in an hour and I needed a cup of coffee—bad. 

Spotting a kiosk I headed for the counter.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“Large coffee, please.”

“How about a latte, or a frappuccino, cappicino, expresso, or maybe an iced mocha?”

“Just coffee.”

“Regular or decaffeinated?”

“Regular.”

“Excellent choice. We have ‘Lighty Brighty,’ ‘Roasty Toasty,’ or ‘Lava Java’?”

“Uh… we’re still talking about coffee, right?”

“Of course sir.”

“I guess I’ll try the ‘Roasty Toasty.’”

“Awesome choice.” After tapping some keys on a register, he said, “That’ll be fourteen dollars.” 

Staring at each other in awkward silence, I waited for him to crack a smile, and say that he’s just kidding.

Didn’t happen.

Out of groggy desperation, I handed him my Visa, and looked up just in time to see ‘Delay’ pop-up next to my flight. 

Showing the slightest hint of a smile, he swiped my card, and said, “Oops, sorry—I forgot to add the local sales and airport tax.”

(101words.org)

Fakers

peekaboo2

It’s not like I’m obsessed. I just like watching her. I look at her a lot—but that’s not a crime. It’s not hurting anyone—it’s not like I’m a weirdo. I work. I pay taxes. I buy Girl Scout cookies.

When I go out, I watch people, and honestly, I prefer being by myself; observing, and listening in on other people’s conversations. They’re so creepy and dishonest. Only saying things they think the other person wants to hear. They’re fakers.

But me, I’m sincere and extremely excited as I take a peek. I know, she knows, I’m watching. She flaunts her wet, naked body—she looks straight at me.

If only my goldfish could talk, it would be perfect.

That’s assuming she’s a female.

Something’s Fishy

fishy

The Trap

trap

The Great Escape

Teddy Bear

teddy_bear

The teddy bear, like Switzerland, refused to take sides, it’s shoe-button eyes stared straight ahead with complete neutrality.

“It’s mine!” the boy wailed in vain.

“Noooo…let go! the girl screamed.

The 3-year-old twins were in a heated tug-a-war. The stuffed bear had become the single-minded object of their affection. At three, the little boy didn’t have the natural physical advantage that he would eventually develop. So for now, his sister, with pure tenacity, was kicking the crap out of him and winning the battle.

The boy gamely hung on to one fuzzy arm, as the girl, pulled him in twisting and flopping like a thirty-pound tuna. In desperation, the boy launched himself forward, sending everyone tumbling across the floor and into the base of the sofa with a thump.

From the kitchen, an ignored voice of authority called out, “Play nice!—You kids stop fighting or you’ll both be in timeout.”

On the floor the struggle continued unabated with the toddlers wrestling for control. Suddenly the boy let out a shriek and screamed, “Sissy bit me!”

Mom rushed in and stood over the twins. The boy was laying on the floor with tears rolling down his cheeks.

His sister was sitting beside him. She clutched the teddy bear and looked up through her watery brown eyes and said “I didn’t.”

Picking up her son, she rocked him and kissed the rising red welt on his shoulder trying to make it all better. Mom then narrowed her eyes at the little girl, and scolded, “We don’t bite.”

***

With blood still glistening on its fangs, the spider thought ‘But we do.‘ and scurried back to its babies under the sofa.

 

I Remember

remembering2

He was stooped with age. His dark eyes fit a familiar face. Someone from my childhood?

I caught his glance, we nodded… an old friend perhaps.

“Dinner’s ready,” a nurse says touching my shoulder. 

“May invite someone,” I ask.

”Of course, but who?” she wonders.

“Over there by that nurse,” I point. 

She looks…then squeezes my hand and tells me, “Sweetie, those are our reflections in the mirrored wall.” 

My confusion happens a lot they tell me. Memories slip away, mercifully forgotten before they’re missed. But for now, in this singular moment, I think, that at least in my heart—I still remember me.

(101words.org)

The Promise

sad_boy

A five-year-old boy, wearing clothes too small—sits on a chair fidgeting, clutching a paper sack containing everything he owns.

With a mighty whoosh, a billowing cape fills the doorway. A superhero enters and a social worker shows him the child’s file…filled with documented betrayals and innocence lost.

Walking over to the chair, he knelt and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. With a steely resolve he promised, “Son, no one will hurt you again. I’m your dad now.” Then he welcomed him into his arms with a kiss and a hug.

“Let’s go meet your mom, son—she’s a super woman,” he said with a wink. “She’s baking you some cookies.”

This is how I had always dreamed of finding a mom and dad.
Turns out, this time, it wasn’t just a dream.

(101words.org)

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