Welcome to thy Goosefeather parody!
We come here on this very nice day, strolling down a merry little hot dog, to find a Goosefeather walking down the big, bad Thunderpath. "La. Laa la laaaa, la la. La. La. La LAAAAAAA, la LAAAAAAA, la LAAAAA!" Ah, what a lovely schreechano. Just what the song Joy to the World needs, don't ya think? Nah.
Then a twoleg monster roared to a stop beside the old brown tom (brown, wasn't it?). The twoleg rolled down his window, covered his dainty little ears, and punched the red horn. "EXCUSSE MEEEE!"
In short, the collision of Goosefeather's opera, the monster, the twoleg's squeaky voice, and the car horn made such a loud and obnoxious noise, I'm not even gonna bother describing it to you. You should be very grateful, thank you.
"Hey, you! Yeah, that freaky cat with the weird swirly glasses! Could ya stop singing that stupid song? It's stretching the power of my brand new eardrums!" The driver (let's just call him Mr. Person) said. "Okay, bye." He kicked the gas pedal. How typical of him to drive away and leave such a poor kitty stuck on the road.
Goosefeather's head was spinning. Neither had he been able to withstand the big squiggly noises. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wha, whoa, look, a hot dog! Whoa, whoa, whoa..." His paws gave out just as they met the magical hot dog, and dramatically, the old goose fainted.
"Look, Pinestar! We found Goosefeather near the Thunderpath!" said Lionpaw."Right after that really loud fart!"
Pinestar turned away from his laptop, where the song 'Old McDonalds Had a Farm' was playing, all the sheep and horses out to murder the kitties. "Wha? Oh, you've got Goosefeather? Yeah, who cares about that old geezer; just put him in the herby den. And what's a Thunderpath again?"
Lionpaw sighed. "The Thunderpath? Oh, y'know, that random warrior-cat thing you'd call a road. What cars drive on."
"Oh. Okay. Yeah, I forgot. But wait, what did the fart sound like - horses trumpeting, elephants mooing, or just a dying cow?"
"Idk, whatever. I have to go date Goldenpaw now." Lionpaw padded out of the leader's den. As he stepped to the beat of the open sunshine, he muttered, "And jeez, why do people keep on giving me Featherwhisker Therapy Soothings and saying that Goldenpaw's my sister? There's no other decent she-cat in the clan! Well, apart from Speckletail, but dating her would be just weird." He went to get a piece of fresh kill.
"Eeeek! There's a hot dog on here!" A girly scream could be heard throughout the pines and oaks and trees and houses and a bunch o' other places.
"Gee, what is that noise?" snorted Midnight as she went back to sleep. "Please, please, PLEASE, don't be a pile of screaming Rocks."
Meanwhile...
The world was still blurry when Goosefeather woke up. "Ooooh. Blob. Big blob. Talking. Acting weirdolike. Hot dog twoleg monster, hot twoleg dog monster."
"Yeah, he really is crazy," Sweetpaw muttered to Featherwhisker.
"Nah, you're just witnessing his more sane moments," Featherwhisker muttered back.
"TWOLEG! And monster!" Goosefeather suddenly jumped up, making Sweetpaw fall into a pile of wet mouse bile moss. Poor her. "You shall die for insulting my opera singing voice! All shall perish at my hot dog!"
Then he heard Lionpaw.
Back at the scene...
"Dog! Dog! I will kill you! I will murder you!" A white she-cat with ginger spots poofed into the middle of camp. "Who said 'dog'? Who said 'dog'?"
"Me." Lionpaw stared at the strange cat. "OMG, OMG, OMGGGGGGGGGGGG! Your face is torn in half! I'm going crazy! I'm gonna DIIIIIIEEE!"
Brightheart ignored him. "Dog, come out right now! Don't make me punch you!"
"It's a hot dog," Pinestar explained. "on the fresh-kill pile." Then he went back into his den. Count on him to be the careless leader.
"Oh," said Brightheart. She stabbed a thorn into the sobbing hot dog. "then die, hot dog! You shalls suffer my wrath! Begone -" And it was about gone, when...
"NOOOOOOO!" Goosefeather sobbed. He rushed into the scene, treading moss and a yowling Sweetpaw behind him. "You murdered my poor little doggy-woggy! WAAAAAH! Now it'll never know its mommy!"
Brightheart backed away. "Ummm, I think I'll just be going now." And she poofed away.
Sunfall gave Goosefeather a strange look. "You do know that a hot dog is just a food, right? You're supposed to eat it, not cuddle it." He grabbed a box of cheerios from the fresh-kill pile, edging away from Goosefeather, who was now hugging his hot dog like how a snake cuddles a mouse.
Goosefeather death glared the Clan. "WHOOOO DARRRES KILLL MEEE HHHOOOTTT DDDDOOOOGGGG?" he said creepily. And Brighty's totally forgotten about already, of course.
No one replied. Until -
"Eeeew! Eeeeew! Eeeeeeeeew!" Snowpaw shrieked. "You're covered in blood! Eeeeew, eeeeew!"
"And booger! Big, ugly, nasty yellow gooeys." Bluepaw continued. "Eeeeeeew! That's so disgusting! Blleeeaaaak!"
Goosefeather growled.
Pinestar peeked out of his den. "What're you hysterical girls screaming about? Oh. Goosefeather, why the hell are you covered in mustard and ketchup? That's neither blood nor boogers."
Goosefeather growled.
Bluepaw frowned. "Whoops. But what in StarClan is hell? It randomly sounds like some random place where you randomly kick random people onto their random tails."
Goosefeather growled.
Pinestar rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I think my clan is loosing its marbles! Hell is in the Daaaaarrrkkk Ffffoooorrressssttt. Not StarClan. Duh! I mean, who doesn't know that?"
Goosefeather growled.
"I don't!" Spottedkit pipped up. Then she decided to be random, if only to preserve the streak of randomness."Did you know that poppy seeds make you -"
Goosefeather growled.
"Wow!" Spottedkit mewed. "Your growl is just so... manly, Goosefeather! That means you're being reeeeaaalllyy sweet right now, am I right?"
Goosefeather growled again. Finally unable to take the stupidy of his clan, he sweetly shouted, "I shall avenge Mr. Hot Dog! His death will NOT be in vain! I shalls kill whoever putted him on the fresh-kill pile! So who was it, anyway?"
"Dude, you shouldn't have said the second-to-last part. Now no one'll say anything 'cause we're all afraid you'll use that deathberry gun on us!" some random cat randomly mewed.
Obviously, nobody dared speak. Except for Spottedkit, who said, "Oooh, yeah, you ARE angry. Are you angry at me cuz I put it on the fresh-kill pile? It looked like a cell phone with a big mustache on it, so I saved it for Dada."
"Wha? You did that?" Goosefeather raised his head to StarClan. "Seriously, Mr. Hot Dog! How can you expect me to kill a future medicine cat! ShadowClan'll kill me then!"
Bluepaw leaned closer to Featherwhisker. "Is he always this weird?"
Featherwhisker nodded. "Always. You'll get used to him after 500 moons." He was trying to get the ear-pieces of his Catphone5 past his big, feathery whiskers.
"AAAAAARRRRGGH!" Thistlepaw suddenly exclaimed. "All this confusing stuff is too much for my straightforward mind! I don't even know who I'm supposed to fight! Isn't that crazy?"
"I know! Your whiskers are so small compared to mine!" Talk about being off-toooopic.
"Go catch a green cough." Adderfang rolled lazily onto his back, turning towards Thistlepaw. "Seriously, guys, just go to Catco Bells and eat a bean burrito. It'll spice things up for ya."
"Yeah, this is soooo boring. I'd rather eat a beet or date Bluepaw than watch," Thrushpelt agreed.
There was a silence after that. Thistlepaw had long since disappeared into the undergrowth when Bluepaw finally spoke. "SILENCE RANDOM AWKWARDNESS!" Poor Bluepaw; she'll never get that right.
"BURRITO FIGHT!" Snowpaw came up with a truckload of burritos, inspired to get more junk food by the mustard fiasco.
"YAY!" said the ThunderClan cats (especially Adderfang) as they all tried to kill Snowpaw to get to the food.
"WAAAAAAH! My poor little dogggy wogggy remains unavenged!" said Goosefeather.
And that's why he died. For something that makes absolutely no sense at all.
A million moons later...
"HOT DOGGY! HOT DOGGY? Oh, where are you, hotty doggy?" Goosefeather screamed, up somewhere in post-post-post-post-post-post-StarClan.
"Dude! I ate those hot dogs a million moons ago!" Mr. Person came walking up on his two small legs. "Jeez. I only gave you ONE of them, kitty-kat. Here's the other." He handed over a brand new hot dog to Goosefeather.
"Cool!" Goosefeather grabbed the hot dog with a shriveled gray paw. "Now, Mr. Hot Dog the Second, we can play princess, dress up as pirates, and eat ketchup together for all EEEEEEETERNITY! Did you hear that? MWAHAHAHA!"
Well, I guess that still counts. The total word count, not including any of these bolded AN, is 1178. (Not anymore) And I know that all this random stuff doesn't have much to do with Goosefeather's actual reputation in Bluestar's Prophecy, but it was still fun to write.
Now that you've read it... How much did you laugh?
0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, or more times...or did you forget (that's me)?
(Okay, looking back on this thing, as of July 19, I have to say that it's not really that funny. But it's still fun to write stupid stuff, and I'm still looking for more reviews. Okay, that last thing sounded really stupid. But whateveh! Too lazy to re-edit!)