Friday the 13th
Chell was suddenly awoken from a very nice dream, featuring a hundred butlers serving her cake on a beach, to Wheatley screaming. It wasn't the first time he's done this. Chell buried her face in her pillow and groaned before getting up and seeing what his problem was this time. She flicked the lights on and saw Wheatley shivering in his pillow nest. He noticed her arrival.
"Oi, lady! I saw something horrible outside! It was big and black and had lots of limbs and I'm pretty sure I saw a second head! It's going to stalk us until we become its dinner! I'm not sure how you taste, but I probablly taste delicious!" Chell listened to his panicky ramblings with sleepy disintrest. He over-reacted to everything. But still, she should probably check it out. She looked out the window to look for Wheatley's mystery beast and sighed in relief when she saw what it was. She began to unlock the door and Wheatley started to panic again.
"No! Nononononononono! Don't open the door! It'll rip your face off! And maybe those nice soft bits in the front that squish against my faceplate nicely when you hug me..." Wheatley quieted down when he saw the glare Chell gave him. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it eating her face? It was a pretty nice face. Very expressive. The front door was opened and Chell picked up the creature and... no!
"What? Why would you bring it in the house?! Do you want us all to die?! Oh we're gonna die we're gonna die we're gonna... it-it's a cat." Wheatley blinked at the animal. It was a shiny black color and seemed to have a normal amount of limbs and heads. Head. Singular. Only one head on the thing. It purred like an engine when Chell scratched it behind the ears. Something popped up in Wheatley's memory banks about them and he started to panic once more.
"Lady, there's something you should know. It's Friday. I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that black cats - that thing you're holding now - are poisonous on Fridays. Now you'll be poisoned for thirteen days. I think that's how it works. Or was it they break your back on Fridays thirteen times?" Chell just looked at him with an amused smile. "Either way, it's pretty bad luck, luv, so you should probably take it back outside. Right now. Where it belongs. And I - ACHOO!" Wheatley played an audio clip of a woman's sneeze over his speakers. "Oh, would you look at that, it seems I'm allergic. And the scientists told me if I was allergic to something, I had to stay very far away from it or I would die. Because that's how allergies work. So let's get Fluffy here away from me, yeah?" Chell was still petting the cat, which made Wheatley roll his optic. What was so special about the poison cat? Is this how it spreads it's poison? By brain-washing people into cuddling it?
"Please, luv, can we get that thing out of here? It's giving me the creeps and - ACHOO! - it's making me all itchy and whatnot. And ... is that a rash? Yep. Most definately a rash. Look, it's evil poison is already spreading to me." Wheatley faked a cough and started to talk like he was dying. "I... don't know how much longer I have left... *cough* Tell my wife... I... *cough* love her..." Wheatley closed his optic. Chell rolled her eyes at his theatrics. If he was going to act like this, then fine.
Wheatley sat there for a bit until he heard the door closing. He peeked out and saw Chell standing there, sans cat.
"Oh, it's gone! Brilliant!" Wheatley's bottom plate rose up in a smile, suddenly back to normal. "I thought it'd never leave and we'd all be horribly poisoned and ... where are you going?" Chell had enough of Wheatley for one night and went back to her room for some well-deserved sleep. She'll explain supserstitions in the morning.