Author's Note- What ever happened to Pookie, Italy's cat? The one that caused mayhem and chaos in Paint It White? I never saw that cat after the movie...
"I thought our friendship was special!"
"What do you mean?! It is special!"
"Not after this!" Empty containers of fries and a half eaten burger tumbled out of a fast food bag and onto the table where Feliciano and Alfred were sitting.
"That's awful, Alfred, but I did not eat your food! I have five containers of ravioli right here!" Feliciano picked up a large bag full of plastic containers next to his feet. The cat sitting on his lap made its disturbance vocal with a strained yawn. Its owner ran a hand down its back in reassurance.
"Really?" Alfred slammed his hands on the table. "It's so funny when I leave my food alone with only you in here, it's gone when I come back!"
"Kitty!" Feliciano cried when his feline leaped off his legs and skittered away from the American's booming voice. He turned back to the man leaning over the table. "I swear I didn't do it! I was napping and staring out the window the whole time!"
Not wanting to stare at Alfred's pouting face any longer, Feliciano shot up from his seat to chase after his cat.
"You're going to pay for my meal next time we're out!" Alfred called out as he dashed out of the lounge.
"Pookie!" Feliciano cried, glancing down both ends of the hall. "Where are you? Come back, kitty!" Speaking from experience, he said, "You'll get lost in this conference building!"
He turned the corner and saw the feline padding down the hall, nose to the ground. Feliciano ran up to it, but the cat's fur bristled at the sound of his boots clumsily slamming on the floor. It picked up its head and flattened its ears. Its owner cried out in exasperation, unwillingly giving chase when the cat streaked away.
The feline turned and ran through a door way, leading to a stair case to go downstairs. Someone was ambling up the steps when Feliciano quickly entered the stair well, stopping a few steps directly above the man. The cat slipped under the man's slippers.
"Ai-yah!" The man yelled, losing his footing from the smooth marble against his strange, smiling footwear that had no traction.
Feliciano gasped and grabbed for his baggy sleeves, but the fabric slithered out of his delayed grip. The man fell backwards, tumbling down on his rear end for a few steps until the first landing harshly stopped him from more damage.
The man's legs flew up in the air as he splayed out on the landing. He let out a shaky exhale, "Ah, what the hell. That hurt." He wreathed from bouts of pain shooting up his back as he pulled himself to a sitting position. The man looked up to see Feliciano gawking down at him with his arms held out.
"Hey!" The man grabbed his back, rising to his now bare feet. "Do you not have something better to do then push old people down stairs?! What is wrong with you?!"
Feliciano shook his head. "It wasn't me, Yao! It was my kitty!"
"Kitty cat?" Yao spat, glancing around the stuffy stair well. "I do not see a kitty cat!"
"Pookie was just..." Feliciano trailed off. Yao clutched onto the railing with a frightening scowl. "I'm sorry!" The Italian squeaked, spinning around to sprint away.
"You will be sorry when I shove chopstick up your asshole!"
Feliciano instinctively grabbed his behind as he skittered down the hall, looking for another way downstairs.
"You are an idiot! A tomato is obviously a vegetable."
He pattered toward the voices.
"Look at all those pictures with fruits in them. There's always apples, bananas, and oranges in them, but no tomatoes. They are paired with vegetables!"
"Hold the elevator!" Feliciano cried, waving at the two men that just stepped into the shaft. He shot inside, eagerly jabbing the button for the lower floor.
The tired looking man sighed. "That is because vegetables-for-brains people like you will cry about it otherwise. Tomatoes are a fruit."
The other male growled, squeezing the bridge of his nose, that which was covered by a white mask. "You're a fruit!" He snarled, as if he could not help it. "How about I pound your fruity little brain into being a vegetable?!"
Feliciano whimpered, pressing closer to the elevator doors as the other guy retorted in an apathetic voice, "How about you shave for once in your life? You look like a hairy tomato." He chided, "Hairy tomato."
As soon as the elevator beeped and stopped, Feliciano bolted, almost smacking the doors when they did not open fast enough. The two men glanced in his direction. "Was somebody just in here with us?"
"Pookie! Pookie, where are you?" Feliciano carried on his search. "I'll give you lots of yummy treats! Do you want some treats?"
At the prospect of food by the owners cooing voice, the feline's brown head popped out from an intersecting hall.
"Pookie!" Feliciano gasped, lunging forward to snatch the cat. The feline chittered, scrambling from his outstretched hands. He crashed into the carpet and rubbed at his face. "Kitty, no! Come back!"
Feliciano hurried to his feet with small winces of pain from rug burn. He quickly pattered after the cat slipping into a room with a faint light emitting into the hallway. Murmurs from the dark room reached Feliciano's ears, and when he swooped inside, he saw that the inhabitants were sitting at a long conference table, listening to Alfred go off about his presentation.
"We are all here today because you are about to be educated on why things like Dora the Explorer should not exist!"
Pookie ran past the oblivious conference members and slid under the table cloth. Feliciano immediately dropped to his hands and knees, crawling under an empty chair. "Come on kitty, come to Papa!"
The cat crouched in front of a pair of large boots. It quivered, and Feliciano froze in silent terror as he recognized the gagging noises. Bits of warm hamburger meat and globs of chewed up fries spewed from the feline's mouth, onto the footwear.
"Pookie, no!" Feliciano loudly whispered. The cat swiped its tongue over its muzzle and streaked away. The light from the projector screen shone onto Feliciano's face. He flinched, screwing his eyes up to the face lifting up the table cloth.
"Greetings, friend!" The bulky man chided. "Are you having fun under there? Perhaps I should join you, too!"
Feliciano stiffly shook his head. "N-no, that's fine! You don't have to!" His eyes dropped down to the vomit on the man's boots.
The man tilted his head, following Feliciano's frightened gaze. He fell silent for a moment, and then the room seemed to become colder. "Alfred told me there is a little Feliciano that took his lunch," he began with a growling voice despite having a smile on his face.
"I-it was my cat!"
"I see no cat. Besides, cats do not eat burgers."
"You would be surprised-" Feliciano gasped when a large hand reached for him. "Eek! It wasn't me!" He cried and skittered away, running over several pairs of feet in the process.
"...and I know it is aimed for children, but a talking map? Seriously? Its eyes are creepy as they stare into the audience. It needs to be stopped!" Alfred's voice shot across the room as Feliciano scrambled to his feet and dashed for the door. "Hey, is that Feliciano? Dude, you still owe me!"
Feliciano ducked out of the room and streaked down the passed two familiar faces and called out a screechy greeting, but did not stop, desperate to find his beloved pet.
"It must be important," Kiku noted.
Ludwig grumbled, "Why can't he run like that when we need him to?"
"Kitty!" Feliciano hollered, turning the corner too sharply. He caught sight of cats, but they were on Yao's shoes, who was storming in his direction.
"You!" Yao jabbed a finger at Feliciano. "You are going to get a slipper up your ass, too, for good measure!"
"I didn't push you down the stairs!" Feliciano sniffled, taking a step back. He bumped into another body and yelped when strong hands clamped onto his shoulders.
"What is this about pushing Yao down stairs? And you made a mess on my boots."
Feliciano ripped away from the intimidating man, glancing between him and a very angry looking Yao. They collectively stepped toward him, Feliciano's back bumping into a wall. Before he could plead for his life, a loud caterwaul erupted behind them.
Pookie's tail lashed back and forth, squeezing past the men's legs to reach its owner. It jumped up and tapped Feliciano's shaking hand by his side and meowed to be picked up.
"Look at that, Ivan! There really is a kitty!"
Feliciano swooped down and cradled the cat to his chest, looking at Yao and Ivan with watery but defiant eyes. He winced from Pookie's claws sinking into his jacket, "I know my kitty has caused problems, but I will not let anything mean happen to him!" The cat stretched up and covered its owner's cheek with licks. Forgetting about them, he cried out, "Ahh! Kitty! Your tongue is rough! That tickles!"
Yao and Ivan exchanged a strained look. "Ai-yah, what are we going to do? There was a cat all along!"
"I think it would be fun if we could play with Mr. Kitty and its owner," Ivan chirped.
"Ugh! That would not fix the bruise on my rear end!"
"You hurt your butt?" Ivan turned toward Yao. "Oh, no, that is not good!"
"Hey, do not come closer to me!"
"I would like to see!"
"I would like you to stay away!"
Feliciano pressed against the wall and began scooting down the hall. He quickly skittered away from the quarreling men with a few frightened glances tossed behind himself. The cat rubbed its head against his shoulder. He was the one to raise him, after all. Either that, or cats were bound by nature to be adorable assholes.