Ian Kabra's phone chimed.
"Finally," he muttered, flicking the screen and opening the text. He sighed. It was from Dan.
"Probably another picture of something that the cat coughed up," Ian mumbled.
But it wasn't. Instead, Dan had sent a link to some website.
"A website devoted to pictures of something that the cat coughed up," Ian decided. He tapped the link. He frowned.
"Fanfiction? I don't- and what's this 'Amian' business? That can't be English. What language is that?"
It wasn't in the dictionary. Ian rang the bell to call in his butler. Perhaps Bickerduff would know.
"Yes, Master?" the butler inquired.
"Bickerduff, do you know what the word-" he wondered if his pronunciation of the enigma was correct- "Amian means?"
The butler's lips twitched. "Wherever did you come across that word, Master?"
"On a fanfiction site my cousin sent. Why, what does it mean?"
"Perhaps you ought to read and see for yourself, Master," Bickerduff replied, and Ian could see a smile struggling to break his normally impassive face.
Such sloppy facial control, Ian thought with a grimace as the butler left. He opened one story with the Amian heading.
A few moments later, his jaw dropped so far it nearly hit the floor.
"Who wrote this rubbish?!" he howled. "I do not look at Amy like that! And since when do I write her love letters every day? And-" his mouth twisted. "Hamilton Holt wants to be my best man?"
Ian slammed down the phone. "This is an outrage!"
The phone chimed again.
Enjoying the stories? Hamilton thinks they're hilarious. Jonah wants to know why he can't be best man. I told him he could serenade you at the wedding.
Ian growled and flipped back to the fanfiction site, looking for someone to sue.
His phone chimed yet again.
"Would you cut it out?" Ian yelled at the phone.
It was from Dan again, and it was a picture of a hairball at the feet of that mangy cat. It bore the legend:
Best Cat.