Home sick with conjunctivitis, and this is what I do. Lovely.
There be notes at the bottom: read 'em!
"Do it again, Misto! Please! Please, please, please!"
Misto groaned loudly and threw his paws up in the air. Six kittens huddled before him: Electra and Etcetera, their faces positively glowing with eagerness; Victoria, her pure white fur mussed slightly from wrestling and her eyes innocently widened; Jemima, grinning at him in the way that always made his stomach perform more impressive acrobatics than the rest of him could; Pouncival, paws nervously scraping at the earth, bouncing up and down on his haunches like a toy wound too tightly; and Plato, the eldest kitten, who was trying to look casual and standoffish while still begging his fellow Jellicle for another magic trick.
"I've told you before…I can't overdo it! If I conjured all the time, you'd get bored within a week!" Misto complained.
"Actually, more like an hour," said Jellylorum from her perch in a withered wicker basket. She watched with affection as Misto tried to escape the mass of insistent kitten that was threatening to overpower him.
Etcetera mewed piteously and nipped at his tail. Misto darted backwards, knocking into Pouncival. The tabby kitten tackled the Conjuring Cat from behind and pulled him to the ground. That was the chance they'd all been waiting for: the rest of the kittens swarmed Misto, Plato included. The air crackled with the shrieks, growls, giggles, hisses, meows, and yowls of seven very playful Jellicles, and Jellylorum laughed out loud when she saw Misto, his arms pinned back by Electra and Plato, struggling and flailing like mad as Victoria and Jemima ticked him mercilessly.
"No…stop…please…ENOUGH!" Misto finally shouted, wrenching free of the kittens' grips. With a sudden twist and a flash of light, he popped out of sight, leaving them all groping and grasping at a patch of empty air.
"Aw, c'mon, Misto! That's no fun!" growled Pouncival, his hackles raised. Electra rubbed up against him.
"Yeah! No fair, no fair, cheating!" she whined, still leaning on Pouncival, who didn't seem to mind at all. Victoria, Etcetera, and Jemima scampered around the Junkyard, calling Misto's name and mewing as pleadingly as they could. Plato sat back and washed his paws, smirking to himself.
"There he is!" Etcetera suddenly shrieked, pointing to an upside-down sink. Sure enough, Misto was crouched beneath it, his white chest pressed to the ground so that his black coat blended completely into the shadows. Jemima leapt towards him, but just as she came within paw's length, he flashed her a smile and disappeared again, leaving no trace of a scent.
"Hey, Misto, cut the kits a break," said Plato, still preening. "They do so hate being teased." Victoria turned and marched up to him, hand on her hip.
"You're still a kit, just like the rest of us. Don't act like a big bad tom when you've still got kitten-fluff in your ears," she snapped, grabbing a handful of the downy ear-fluff that hadn't yet fallen out (as it did when Jellicle males matured). Plato blushed and batted Victoria away, hissing. The two of them circled each other, backs arched and claws out; Jemima and Etcetera exchanged worried looks. Jellylorum glanced up from the needlepoint she was working on and frowned.
"Plato! Victoria! Leave each other alone!" The two younger Jellicles took no heed of her, still pacing in a tense ring. Electra (who had decided to stop distracting Pouncival) ran over.
"Hey, Victoria, leave off of him. He's just trying to get you all worked up. Don't fight, please!"
"Yes, little sister, let the kitten be," said a voice from the air right behind Pouncival; he jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around, staring at empty space.
"Wah—huh—Misto? Is that you? Where'd you go?" he stuttered, twisting and turning to find the invisible magician. The other kittens watched him with confusion; even Victoria and Plato stopped circling to frown at Pouncival.
"In fact, Victoria, I expect better of you than picking fights," Misto's voice said sternly, this time emanating from right in front of Plato, who stumbled backwards in surprise. A slow grin spread over Victoria's face, and she padded forward, shoulders riding low.
"Yes, well, you can't deny that he asks for it sometimes," she purred, kneading the air in front of her with her paws. A slight snicker came from her right, and in a flash she pounced. Her outstretched paws looked like they were going to soar straight through thin air—but suddenly they flattened against something, and as Victoria fell to the ground, she brought with her a very startled Misto, whom she'd snatched out of emptiness.
"Ha!" she cried triumphantly, pinning her brother beneath her. "You can't hide from me, sneaky little Jellicle!"
"You're getting better, I admit," Misto conceded, trying to maintain some dignity while being straddled by his younger sister on the ground. The other kittens burst into laughter, applauding Victoria and doing imitations of her flying leap. Jelly grinned to herself and went back to needlepoint.
"How d'you do that, Victoria?" Etcetera asked in wonderment, walking over to stare curiously at the reluctantly tangible Misto. Victoria smirked and dug her claws gently into Misto's chest.
"It's all about concentration."
"Liar," Misto grumbled, struggling to rise and failing miserably. "You use magic and you know it."
"Hmmph. Magic," snorted Plato, lifting his nose in the air. "Magic's no substitute for a keen set of ears and strong paws. Magic can't catch you a rat or win you a mate. Magic can't—squeak!"
"Feeling a little ill there, Plato?" Misto asked innocently while the others had fits of hysterics. Plato, his face scrunched up in alarm, clutched his throat and tried to speak again. The same sound as before came out of his mouth: a loud, shrill squeaking noise, just like the cry of a terrified mouse. Misto smiled as Plato ran in circles, squeaking urgently and swatting at his head. Jellylorum, once again distracted from her needlepoint, was quite confused.
"Oh, leave him be, Misto," Victoria said finally, casually pressing down on his ribs so that breathing became somewhat difficult. Misto tried to throw her off again, but the white kitten wasn't one of the most skilled dancers among the Jellicles for nothing. She had more than enough muscle to hold him down, especially from her advantageous position. With a loud sigh—followed by an equally loud gasp for air—Misto nodded curtly towards the panicking Plato. The squeaking stopped suddenly, and Plato staggered to a halt, hacking and coughing.
"You…you…you…" he wheezed, unable to generate either the breath or the creativity to insult Misto. Victoria looked over at him in concern; Misto seized the moment and bucked violently, sending Victoria tumbling backwards. By the time she sat up again, sputtering and ruffled, Misto had disappeared. Electra pounced on the empty air where he'd been, but found nothing. She mewed with disappointment.
"Is he still here, Victoria? Or did he really run away?" she asked despondently. Victoria sniffed the air and pricked her ears; after a moment or two of searching, she sighed and sat back on her haunches.
"He's really gone. Slippery cat, I'll get him back," she muttered to herself. Jemima sauntered over and sat beside her friend, watching in amusement as Plato scratched the ground and ranted to an amused Pouncival.
"So…a little concerned for Plato, eh?" she said casually. Victoria shot her a look.
"I wasn't concerned. I was getting annoyed by all the loud noise. It was high enough to make me deaf!"
"Oh, of course, of course," Jemima agreed, playing with her spiked collar. Victoria's angry look got darker, and she swiped at Jemima's twitching tale. Seconds later, they were wrestling on the ground, yowling and hissing like alley cats. Electra and Etcetera cheered them on, while Plato and Pouncival were positively enthralled by the lithe queen-kits rolling around in a ball. Jellylorum sighed, shook her head, and went back to the long-suffering needlepoint.
Misto popped into sight a good distance away from the kittens' playground, perching himself on an old rocking chair. Performing a quick check for other Jellicles—or other anythings, for that matter—he stretched and draped himself across the worn wooden seat. The moon was just rising, and his coat shimmered in its gentle light. He could feel the magic inside him stirring, pulsing and humming in his stomach like a living creature. The tips of his fingers tingled, and he felt the urge to transform into the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.
Mr. Mistoffelees was his true Jellicle nature; it took some constant effort, never mind how small, to suppress his magic and become his dressed-down form. But when the moon called, it became even harder to resist breaking the dams and letting the energy of his magic flow. When he let go and became himself again, every movement of his limbs, every sound that caressed his ears, every scent on the air—they were all sharper and crisper, brilliant as the stars in the sky. Magic crackled in his veins, and power swelled within his chest.
Mistoffelees sighed and rolled over onto his stomach, letting the moon bathe his back and legs. When Mr. Mistoffelees did his Conjuring Turn, the spotlight never shone on a brighter Jellicle. The eyes of the onlookers grew wide as the Conjuring Cat fulfilled his reputation, sparkling so brightly that he dimmed the moon and stars. Eyes, watching him, admiring, adoring, wide with awe…Jemima's eyes, framed so beautifully by the red fur that ringed her face, glittering in the light from his coat as he danced. Jemima floated through his head, smiling, her head cocked to the side like it always was when he did a new magic trick that she liked. Jemima…
"Having a pleasant night, I see."
The voice wouldn't have surprised him in the least if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his thoughts of the red queen; as it was, he jumped and hissed, his fur instantly bristling. Mistoffelees' reaction only served to amuse the Rum Tum Tugger, who chuckled and swung up onto the arm of the rocking chair, balancing effortlessly. His mane was even larger than normal tonight, and his fur was sleek, though a little mussed in the back and on the sides. Mistoffelees rolled his eyes and tried to brush down his own coat.
"I could say the same to you. Who was it this time?" he asked, eyeing the rumpled patches of fur. Tugger smirked and cracked his neck, twisting it from side to side.
"Exotica. Tantomile. Bombalurina," he said in a bored voice, as though reading from a shopping list. Mistoffelees growled deep in his throat, unable to keep back a small smile.
"I'm assuming not all at once."
"Oh, of course not. Far too many claws in one place," Tugger answered, his own smile widening. Mistoffelees snorted and sat up, combing dust from his chest. Tugger watched him do so, then gazed up at the now risen moon, considered it as though it were another luscious queen.
"Well, while you were besmirching the honor of all of our queens, I was playing with kittens," Mistoffelees said dryly, bringing Tugger's eyes back to earth. The larger tom raised an eyebrow.
"I don't envy you that. Although I'm not certain it was nearly so dreadful as your tone suggests. I believe there's a certain kitten that's caught your eye, is there not? Perhaps a young red queen, with a cunning little collar…and coincidentally, the daughter of my dear brother and his shrew of a mate."
"You don't know what you're talking about. And Munkustrap would bite your tail off if he heard you call Demeter that."
"Oh, I'm well aware of my brother's protective streak. However, I'd much rather he unleash his fury on me than Demeter herself. I may be exceedingly curious, even for a cat, but I don't fancy dying an excruciating death just because I made a harmless little comment about an unstable queen."
"You're hopeless," Mistoffelees sighed, and somersaulted into a sitting position. Tugger grinned at his friend, no trace of shame or modesty in his dramatically lined face. If there had been, he wouldn't have been able to call himself the Rum Tum Tugger.
"I may be that, Mistoffelees, but at least I'm comfortable with it. You, on the other hand, seem intent on trying to prove your innocence, especially to me."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Misto sniffed. Tugger chuckled and tugged his ears.
"Playing with kittens, humoring Munk in his single-minded dedication to protecting every moving Jellicle for every second in the day, stepping back from the mating dance…although that last one is more understandable. Jemima wasn't eligible to mate last year, was she?" Tugger drawled, his eyes narrow with smugness. Mistoffelees blushed and drew his legs up against his chest.
"I'm not trying to prove my innocence to anyone, Tugger. Not all toms need to cycle through the queens weekly and break things when they're bored."
"But you do break things when you're bored."
"You know what I mean. Compared to you, everyone is innocent."
"Oh, not true, my magical friend. You're just as bad as I am, in your own way. And someday you'll wake up and realize it."
"You live in a strange world, Tugger," Mistoffelees sighed, getting to his feet. Tugger scratched the ticklish place behind his friend's ears.
"I thought you knew, Mister Magician…everybody lives in my world."
"Oh, of course."
"Now, are you going to argue with me some more, or are we going to hunt?"
Mistoffelees grinned. "Is that an invitation?"
"Tell you what: since you seem a little down, I'll let you choose the quarry for tonight. Mice? Rats? Maybe even a nice pigeon, if you fancy some jumping about."
"Hmm…" Mistoffelees considered, absently washing a paw. Suddenly, a sly smile spread across his face, and he elbowed Tugger in the ribs. "You know, I think I have some slightly more interesting prey in mind."
"Really?" Tugger asked curiously. "Such as?"
"I'll tell you…but first, I think we're going to need a few more toms."
"Okay, now you be the Rumpus Cat and I'll be the leader of the Pekes—"
"But you already got to be General Peke! I wanna be him now!" Etecetera whined. Pouncival sighed with exasperation and ruffled his whiskers. Beside him, Victoria and Electra rolled their eyes. Jemima and Plato were also annoyed; Etcetera and Pouncival, as siblings were wont to do, always bickered endlessly about nothing, and thunderclouds were beginning to creep into the sky. If Pouncival and Etcetera argued for so long that they had no time to play before the rain fell, there were going to be four very irritated kittens after them.
"Here, Etcetera, you can be General Pollicle," Plato offered graciously. Etcetera mewed mournfully, but Pouncival just put his nose in the air. Finally, pressured by the whining and begging of her friends, Etcetera assumed her place at the head of the Pollicle army. The two groups squared off, the Pollicles barking loudly and the Pekes gnashing their teeth. Jellylorum watched with interest, though now she shared her basket seat with Demeter and Bombalurina.
"I remember being a kitten," Bombi said dreamily, her husky voice low so as not to distract the advancing armies. "When I was General Peke, we won every time, Rumpus Cat or no."
"Do you remember why you won every time?" Demeter asked, rolling her eyes. "As I recall, you just made eyes at all the tom-kits until they lay flat on their stomachs and let you walk all over them."
"Sounds like our Bombi," Jelly said, affectionately tweaking Bombalurina's tail. Bombi rolled her eyes and spread her legs out, folding one shapely limb over the other.
"Well, I was a little inexperienced back then. Now, of course…well, let's just say one thing I'm not lacking is experience."
"Really, Bombi, not around the kittens," Jelly scolded while Demeter stifled a laugh. Bombi grinned and rolled her head from side to side.
"Oh, Jelly. They'll all be old enough to mate at this coming Ball. In fact, if you ask me, I think they've started exploring their options a tad early."
"Really?" Demeter asked, suddenly interested. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I've heard things…seen them too," the red queen said vaguely, grooming her paws. Jelly and Demeter glanced at each other and shifted closer to Bombi. There were few things queens loved more than good old-fashioned gossip.
"What kind of things?" Jelly pressed, laying her still unfinished embroidery aside. Bombi grinned, happy to have the floor. She beckoned her friends closer; from outside their basket, shrieks and squeals permeated the air as the war grew in fervor.
"Well, you've obviously both seen how Victoria and Plato are together," she began, her tone conspiratorial. Demeter rolled her eyes.
"Any Jellicle with eyes in their head could see that those two will mate, Bombi. Is that all you've got?"
"All right, all right, no need to get hissy," Bombi said, frowning. Demeter smiled, and Jelly prodded Bombi to make her go on. "Anyway, Electra and Pouncival have been…rendezvousing behind Jenny and Skimble's car trunk recently. Surely you're noticed how they glare at the kits nowadays…"
"I wondered; though I always thought it had something to do with Pounce eating one of Jenny's mice," Jelly said thoughtfully. Demeter purred with interest.
"Tell me, Bombi, do you know about Etcetera?"
"Do I know what about her?"
"Well, far be it from me to say anything about anyone else's kit…" Demeter said with an air of superiority, while Jelly scowled.
"If you have something to say about Jenny's daughter, you might at least do her the courtesy of including her in the discussion," she scolded, ruffling the fur at Demeter's neck. Demeter batted her paws away and sighed.
"Jelly, dear, you know I feel nothing but love and affection for both Jenny and Etcetera. That kitten might as well be from my own litter…but still, you must admit that she's awfully eager. I can't count the number of times I've seen her tagging after Alonzo or Munkustrap, hoping for a little male attention; and don't get me started on the way she is with Tugger. Bombi, you should know better than anyone," she said, turning to the smiling red queen. "That tom is no good around kittens, especially queen-kits. He's a menace, a rascal—"
"A scoundrel," Bombi purred, arching her back. Jelly giggled and glanced at the oblivious kittens, while Demeter growled. Despite the great strength of her love for Munk, she'd never been a fan of his brother. At all. Ever. Bombi, on the other hand…
"Really, I don't know what you see in him," Demeter continued, primly considering her claws. "He's so vulgar and arrogant all the time."
"Yes, vulgar and arrogant…and curious. Very, very curious," Bombi said with a salacious air. "I tell you, Demeter, you're narrow-minded to the point of your own destruction."
"Not throwing myself at an incorrigible tom is hardly self-destruction, Bombi," Demeter huffed. Bombi laughed in the back of her throat.
"Oh, you and your twisted little thoughts…anyway, I've told you before, Dem, Tugger's not only a tom to mate with. He's a good friend, and sometimes he's the only cat to talk to when your head is just a bit too full. Ask Mr. Mistoffelees, he'll back me up."
"I've never quite understood why the Rum Tum Tugger and Mr. Mistoffelees get along so well," Jelly mused aloud, still watching the kittens. "You'd think such a quiet, good-natured gentleman of a cat would shrink from company like Tugger's."
"Oh, Misto's not always quiet, and he's certainly not always a gentleman…" Bombi purred, glancing at Demeter out of the corner of her eye. The other queen frowned.
"Bombi, whatever do you mean? Quaxo's one of the most well-mannered Jellicles in this Junkyard. Even when he was a kitten, he was always so sweet and thoughtful…don't you remember when he conjured you up that lovely blanket for your den? And last year he danced with you at the Ball!"
Bombi yawned and stretched again, cracking the muscles in her shoulders. "Of course I remember, Demeter. I adore Misto as much as the rest of us. But that doesn't mean I'm as blind as everyone else is to what he's been doing recently…or rather, what he's been doing with whom."
"Excuse me? Mistoffelees has been…what, Bombi? Who?" Demeter asked eagerly, forgetting her cool demeanor in favor of good gossip. Bombi chuckled.
"Well, well, well, aren't we curious. If you really want to know, Misto's been…wooing, I guess you might say. And to me, it seems he's been quite successful so far, remarkably successful in fact. Considering the watchful eyes on this kitten, anyways."
"Which kitten? Oh, come, Bombi, you know," Jelly pressed. Bombalurina purred a little louder, vastly enjoying the attention.
"I do. Though I'm not sure present parties would be very happy if they knew…" she trailed off, her eyes once again wandering to Demeter. Demeter frowned and opened her mouth, probably to pester Bombi some more; but all of a sudden, her eyes went wide and her jaws snapped shut as she got the gist of Bombi's word. Demeter might have been rather snappish at times, but she wasn't stupid.
"Bombalurina, are you being serious?" she gasped, her ears flattening out a little. Bombi shrugged.
"I'll swear on Old Deuteronomy's past lives if you wish me to. As for your daughter and her tomcat, well…from what I've seen, I'd say they're more than serious. Certainly, they're planning to mate at the Ball…if they haven't already." Demeter immediately bristled, and Bombi hastily added, "I'm sure that they haven't though, Dem. After all, they're not fools."
"Well, you certainly are," Jelly said dryly, which shut Bombalurina up, for a little while at least. The older queen turned to Demeter, who was looking rather stormy. "Dear, I think you should be happy. What better cat for Jemima to mate with than our Mr. Mistoffelees? He's done more good for this family of Jellicles than most other cats can hope to in a few lifetimes, and as you said, he's well-mannered and kind. Besides," she said with a small wink, "He may be the greatest magician in the world, but your kitten could order him to fight an army of Pollicles without batting an eye. She's as strong as her father, she is."
"And as stubborn as her mother, though hopefully not as suspicious," Bombi muttered. Demeter kneaded the age-softened basket beneath her paws, chewing on her lower lip. She didn't look angry, but she didn't look overjoyed.
"It's not that I disapprove of Mistoffelees…it's just that…that I…Everlasting Cat, I don't know. I don't like the idea of Jemima mating with anyone. She's still just a kitten."
"To you, she is," Bombi said softly, leaning forward to nuzzle Demeter's shoulder. Demeter accepted the peace offering, sitting back and laying her head on her friend's flank. "You're her mother. It's always hard to see them as queens and toms, not as kittens…even when they're all grown up."
"And she's grown up very well," Jelly added kindly. Demeter purred a little and combed the fur on her stomach.
"I know, I know. Still, I can't help but wish she'd wait another year before dancing at the Ball. Not every cat needs to rush into adulthood. Though there are some I could mention," she said pointedly, glancing up at Bombi. The red queen laughed.
"Adulthood suits me, Demeter. Being a queen has its perks, many of which are toms." Jelly laughed, and even Demeter cracked a smile. "And while we're on the subject, as one all-grown-up queen to others, I must tell you, I was having the most divine night, even before I joined you."
"Because of a tom, no doubt," Demeter grumbled, her voice heavy with derision. "Let me guess: that infamous scoundrel, the Rum Tum Tugger?"
"You rang, Demeter?" Tugger chirped innocently, his head popping over the side of the basket. All three queens jumped and shrieked, their fur bristling and their claws automatically unsheathing. Tugger burst into laughter, clambering over the edge and squeezing between Bombi and Jelly into the now somewhat crowded basket. He slung an arm over both queens' shoulders. "How're you ladies doing tonight?"
"Fine until very recently," Demeter growled, brushing down her fur. Bombi and Jelly did the same and retracted their claws, though Demeter kept hers at half-length. Tugger winked at her and she hissed, her eyes narrowed.
"You know, we were just talking about you," Bombi said with a smirk, snuggling into Tugger's chest. He grinned and shifted so that his mane draped itself over her ears.
"I'm truly flattered."
"I'm sure whatever they were saying was far from flattering, Tug," Mistoffelees quipped, hopping up onto the rim of the basket over Demeter's head. She winced and rolled her eyes, craning her head backwards to glare at him.
"Are there many more of you toms out there, or is this the last irritation I'll have to suffer?"
"Apologies, Misto; she's got a lot on her mind," Jelly said with a smile. Misto grinned back and stood up, prancing around the edge of the basket like a tightrope walker. The heads of the other Jellicles swiveled as they followed his movements.
"So, then," said Tugger in the middle of Misto's third lap. "I hope you queens won't mind, but we and a few of the other toms were hoping to spend a little time with the kits. That all right with you, Jelly?" he asked, nodding at the caretaker cat. She gave him a look.
"That depends on what you mean by 'spend a little time', Tugger. I know what kind of thing you spend most of your time doing, and—"
"It's all right, Jelly," Misto said warmly, rising onto the balls of his feet. "I'll keep him in line. We were just planning to play around a bit."
"I'm sure you were," Demeter muttered, though only Bombi heard her. Jelly sighed and glanced at the kittens, who were so absorbed in fighting over who got to be the Scottish Pollicles that they hadn't noticed anything of the older cats.
"I suppose it's all right, then. Just don't be too rough; those kittens can get carried away sometimes."
"Oh, I know, believe me," Misto said with a grin; a second later, he vanished into thin air. Tugger got to his feet, stretched a bit, and leaned down to give Bombalurina a fast nip under the chin before clambering out of the basket after his friend. Bombi meowed with pleasure, fiddling with her collar and licking her lips. Demeter snorted.
"Have some dignity, Bombi, for Cat's sake."
"Oh, shove off, Dem," Bombi said lightly. "Come on, let's see what those two are up to." She straightened up and peered over the edge of the basket at the playing kittens. Jelly—and with more grumbling, Demeter—followed suit.
The kittens had assigned all roles and nationalities now, and were right in the middle of an epic battle. Pouncival and Victoria were barking angrily at each other and fighting back to back, neither able to get a good grip on the other as they turned in circles. Electra was fighting with Tumblebrutus, who had shown up from Pollicle knows where: they were somersaulting across the ground, trying to knock the other off balance. In between these four, Plato dueled Jemima and Etcetera at the same time, valiantly digging in his heels and defending himself from two quick, strong kittens at the same time. Jemima growled and batted at his head, while Etcetera, barking like there was no tomorrow, darted around his legs and poked him with claws.
All of a sudden, just as the action was coming to a peak, there was a loud bang and a flash of light that made every kitten (and every queen) in the Junkyard jump about three feet in the air. Still thoroughly in battle mode, the kittens assembled into makeshift flanks, bent low, their ears flattened. A low hiss rose from the mass of wary kitten, and many unsheathed claws glittered in the moonlight.
And then Mistoffelees, Tugger, Alonzo, Admetus, and Asparagus burst out of a box of crackers, charging straight at the kittens while hollering battle cries and waving their arms like windmills.
The kittens all screamed and broke ranks, running in circles around the Junkyard and falling over each other in their scramble to escape the older toms. They were, however, gravely outmatched. A giant game of tag quickly evolved, where instead of one cat being It, every cat was. It also seemed to be tackle-tag, which made Jelly wince but made Demeter and Bombi laugh all the harder.
It was certainly a sight to see. Five Jellicle toms chasing seven hyperactive Jellicle kittens in a rather small space, all the cats bumping into each other and pieces of junk, yowling and screeching when they were tagged or tagged another. Etcetera and Electra shrieked with delight as Alonzo and Admetus scooped them up and twirled with them in the air, their tails hitting the toms over their heads. Tugger wrestled with Pouncival, purposefully letting the tom-kit get a grip on him before twisting out of it and throwing him down. Plato and Asparagus teamed up to chase down Victoria, who was trying to dodge Mistoffelees at the same time; they all knocked into each other and went sprawling across the clearing. Victoria and Plato were all tangled up together, hissing and spitting as they wrestled and tried—though not very hard—to separate.
"Get AWAY!" Jemima shouted, her voice choked with laughter, as Tumblebrutus ran after her, his paws just missing her waist as she ducked and twisted. Etcetera, now free from Alonzo's grip, executed a huge flying leap that carried her right into Tugger; he went down with a beautiful thump, bouncing and rolling before coming to a stop. When he did, he found a very enthusiastic queen-kit wrapped around his chest, staring down at him with a look of combined rapture and triumph.
"Tricky little kitty, aren't you?" he purred. She giggled and kneaded him with her paws. The melee continued around them; Tumblebrutus, having given up his pursuit of Jemima, was trying to escape Alonzo and Electra, their paws hardly making a sound as they corralled him against a soap box before jumping on him and tickling him mercilessly. Jemima watched and laughed, though she had to dash away a second later as Asparagus aimed a swipe at her. Still laughing, she turned her head to make a face at him—and without looking, barreled straight into Mistoffelees, who was sparring with Pouncival. The two of them fell to the ground, her momentum carrying them both forward and headfirst into a box full of packing peanuts. Chunks of Styrofoam exploded into the air as the Jellicles upended the box, and all the other cats shouted happily and began to play in the piles of peanuts. Jemima and Mistoffelees, attempting to disentangle from each other, tried to climb out of the box and failed. It turned over and dumped them both onto the ground, Jemima's body spread out underneath Misto's.
"Everlasting Cat, what crazy Jellicle would do something like—oh! Jemima!" Misto stuttered, blinking the peanuts out of his eyes to see the little red face grinning up at him. She grinned and shook her head violently, spraying more Styrofoam into his fur. He meowed and batted at his nose, leaning down to rub the peanuts off against her shoulder; with his head down and hidden from the rest of the Jellicles by Jemima's torso, Misto took the opportunity to nuzzle her ribs and lick her gently, smoothing her glossy red fur. She purred and wrapped her legs around him, pushing her head into his neck and breathing gently on the soft fur and skin behind his ears.
"I'm sorry for running into you," she whispered, barely managing to suppress a happy giggle. Misto mewed very quietly and pulled her flush against him.
"Apology accepted," he replied, one paw playing absently with her tail. She grinned and snuggled into his chest. For a moment, there were no two happier cats.
Then Tugger, having extricated himself from Etcetera's clutches, tackled Misto with enough strength to forcibly wrench him out of Jemima's embrace and send him flying into a very solid metal trash can.
The crash echoed across the Junkyard, and the other cats stopped what they were doing and looked around for its source. Then Tugger emerged from a pile of packing peanuts, wrestling with a somewhat dazed Mr. Mistoffelees and driving away an unhappy Jemima. The Jellicles, satisfied that Macavity wasn't trying to kidnap them all, went back to playing around in the peanuts.
"Ha! Got you!" Tugger shouted triumphantly, winding Misto into a full nelson and pushing him onto the ground. Dipping his head low to avoid being seen or heard by anyone else, he whispered to his friend, "A word of advice from one tom to another: never get cozy with a queen while her mother's watching."
Mistoffelees' ears were still ringing and his mind was somewhat fuzzy from being hurled into the trash can, but he managed to catch what Tugger said. Turning his head—which was difficult with Tugger practically grinding his face into the dirt—he managed to get a look at Demeter, who had climbed onto the rim of the basket beside Bombalurina. She was looking straight back at him; and she was very definitely unhappy.
"Thanks, Tugger, much appreciated," Misto grunted, quickly glancing away from the irate queen. "Now how about letting me up?"
"Oh, no, Conjuring Cat," Tugger said with a smirk. "My advice is pricey. Say uncle!"
"Tugger, we're not kittens—"
"Say uncle!"
"Everlasting Cat, get off of me!"
"Say uncle!"
"I'm telling your brother about this!"
"Say uncle!"
"NO!" Misto shouted, and suddenly he was as slippery as a wet fish; he squirted out of Tugger's hold and before the Maine Coon could blink in surprise, the lithe tuxedo cat was sitting on his back, knees crunching Tugger's shoulders together and paws clamped on either side of his head.
"Who's saying uncle now?"
"No fair using magic, Mistoffelees! That's low!"
"Yes, well, I press my advantages and you press yours. What is the Rum Tum Tugger going to do now, call in his own personal cavalry?"
"Something like that," Tugger purred, a sly smile spreading across his face. Twisting towards the kittens, he called seductively, "Oh, giii-iiirls!"
"You didn't," Misto said in disbelief, right before he was bowled over by four very strong and very loyal fans of the Rum Tum Tugger.
1) All variations of Misto's name(s) and their placements are purposeful.
2) I included Asparagus because I like the actor in the movie. *shrug*
3) I am a big fan of Misto/Jemima and Tugger/Bombi, and I hope everyone knows.