How Tugger Got His Solo
Disclaimer: These cats belong not to me, but to T.S. Eliot and Andrew Lloyd Webber and the Really Useful Group.
Am I the only one who was curious about the origins of Tugger`s bagpipes, and how he got the idea to play them during the Pekes and the Pollicles past dear Munkustrap? Because of my curiosity, I had to write this little one-shot for kick `n giggles. Read and review!
Munkustrap was always in charge of the annual retelling of the story of the Pekes and The Pollicles and the Intervention of the Great Rumpus Cat. As the Jellicle Protector, it was one of his many duties involving the Jellicle Ball. Although it was considered an honor to retell the story and manage the casting of the roles, he found it to be his least favorite duty.
You see, Munkustrap adored perfection and order. And the story of the Pekes and the Pollicles? No matter how many times he was put in charge of it, something always went haywire when it was performed at the ball. Somebody lost their costume right before the performance and then found the day after the ball, someone wanted to stop mid-performance, somebody tried do some funny-business on the actual night of the performance, or someone missed their cue to go on. Try as he might to get it exactly perfect, he had yet to go one ball without anyone screwing up something.
The liability wasn`t on him, oh no, it was the ones he casted who were to blame. He tried to omit those he knew couldn`t be exact with their performance, simply casting them in minor roles like a background Peke or Pollicle who was only needed for the barking chorus. And this year, as though casting uncooperative actors wasn`t enough of a strain, he had a big group of eager, excited kittens attending their first Jellicle Ball that would surely want to be a part of the story to cast as well. It was enough to drive him barking mad.
Like any great Jellicle Protector, though, he kept his cool as he walked towards the yapping, laughing, yelling throng of cats gather in the junkyard clearing by the tire for the casting. Everyone in the throng had one month, as indicated by the full, heavy moon in the sky, to rehearse and get everything spot-on for the ball.
Munkustrap took his spot above the crowd on top the tire his father used every ball as a throne of sorts. "Everyone!" He called to grab their attention, but the Jellicle cats were too engrossed with their conversations to even notice that the Protector had even slipped through the crowd to get to the tire. "Could I have your attention for a minute?"
Futile. He gave a sigh and resorted to whistling loudly that made everyone jolt and turn their focus onto the casting at hand.
And so, he began his customary speech. "I would like to welcome each and every one of you to the casting Jellicle Ball`s annual of The Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles with Some Account of the Participation of the Pugs and the Poms and the Intervention of the Great Rumpus Cat." Bast, that was a mouthful of a title, he admitted, but he quite liked it. It sounded important, and he knew, it was. "I am pleased that so many cats this year decided they would like to be in this year `s performance. As you know, this is an important, theatrical tradition started by generations of Jellicle before us, and it is crucial to take this very seriously. You are expected to be responsible for your costume. You are responsible for remembering your solos and your chorography in order to make this performance memorable. -" Of course, there had to be a couple of cats that this message went over their heads, Munkustrap was certain. Some of the cats had been in the production so many times, he betted that the exceptions sounded an awful lot like insipid droning.
When he finished, he looked out to the crowd and said, "Now, when I have already worked on the casting of roles and when I call your name, please stand up."
"Admetus-" immediately, the cat so mentioned stood up amidst the group. "Is our Great Rumpus Cat this year."
It was a mixture of wild, thunderous clapping for the friends of Admetus in congratulation, included in the best wishes were the cat's closet to him nuzzling his leg and gently pawing at him, and polite, civil clapping and muttering of toms who believe that they were more worthy of the role.
"Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer." The tabby twins stood up. "Lead Peke and Pollicle."
"The ones `o getta bark a each other?" `Jerrie asked.
"Yes, the ones who get to bark at each other," Munkustrap assured the orange cat, who grinned. His sister also had an identical grin on her face as well when they sat back down.
"Mistoffelees and Skimbleshanks are the Scottish Pollicles." As he went through the main leads, he mainly separated the toms to the Pollicles and the queens to either be a Peke or Poms, as it was traditional cast.
When he finished with the list, he dismissed the cats, reminding them that the chorography lessons would begin tomorrow at the clearing and he frowned upon cats that were late for the very first practice. Though, as he said this, he dreaded tomorrow, knowing that something had to go wrong with something. The casting usually always went well; it was just the matter of getting through the next few weeks of rehearsal that he needed to get through.
Just as Munkustrap was leaving, who would approach him but his brother, the Rum Tum Tugger? The Maine Coon looked around to the leaving cats and frowned. "Did I miss out on the casting again?" Tugger asked, disappointed.
"Yes, Tugger, you`re more than fashionably late, I`m afraid," Munkustrap told his brother flatly. For some reason, even when he reminded Tugger that the casting was that night at moonrise, his brother always seemed to miss it.
"Did you cast the Rumpus Cat?" Tugger asked.
"Of course. It was the first role I casted."
"I thought I would have made an excellent Rumpus Cat." Tugger crossed his arms.
"If you would have made it to the casting, I would have considered you. But the role went to Admetus this year. However, if you`re interested, we could use one more Pollicle." Munkustrap couldn`t believe he was considering this. For any other cat, he would have put his foot down. But, Tugger was his younger brother, and perhaps it was a tinge of empathy was picking at him.
"A Pollicle?" Tugger echoed, revolted at the sheer idea. "I`m afraid wearing a bunch of human shoeboxes on my head and feet and hands with two ties for ears is not a very becoming look for me."
"I bet the queens will still find you attractive, shoeboxes or not," Munkustrap told his brother, looking for a way out of this conversation. "But I`m afraid a Pollicle is the only role I can offer you." He was just about to turn to leave, and perhaps go find Demeter.
"Wait!" Tugger`s eyes light up as he seemed to get perhaps the greatest idea every to come to his mind. "What if I played my-"
Munkustrap scowled. "No. And curse you for even suggesting the idea."
"Oh come now, Munkustrap. I haven`t played them in a long while. It would be quite the honor to play then during the Jellicle Ball."
There was a reason why Tugger hadn`t played his bagpipes in a long time, and that was because a lot of the tribe found them irksome, and one of them happened to be Munkustrap himself. The origin of the pipes were when they were young and their uncle, Skimbleshanks, went up north with the Midnight Mail and ended up bringing home bagpipes as a souvenir of his travels. Tugger, for some odd reason, had taken a liking to the instrument. Of course, starting out, the noise was unbearable, and Skimble must have resented ever bringing the pair of pipes to the junkyard, but when he learned how to play properly, it became a little more tolerable, but it still drove Munkustrap bonkers.
"No. That`s final."
"But what about the line in the songs?" Tugger pointed out, reciting from memory specially to give his point, "And so they stepped out, with their pipers in order, Playing When the Blue Bonnets came Over the Border."
At first, Munkustrap found it remarkable that the Rum Tum Tugger could even remember a line of the story, but then he realized, Tugger had also been in competition with him as the role for the Jellicle Protector, and had also been their when Munkustrap spent many a laborious hour to commit the whole story to his memory.
"You do need a piper player for that part, if you want this production to be perfect, as you constantly strive for. Am I not the cat to take on the role?" Tugger shifted his weight onto his other foot and crossed his arm, eye brows arched, but his eyes saying he knew very well that he might as well won this battle.
That bit of brotherly nature Munkustrap had came back and, reluctantly, he heaved a sigh and said, "Fine, you can be the piper. But any funny business, anything at all, and you might as well kiss your bagpipes goodbye. Do you understand me, Tugger?"
The Maine Coon beamed with victory, as he said, "It will be a Jellicle ball to remember."
