The sun shone down, baking the slabs that paved the streets of London

The sun shone down, baking the slabs that paved the streets of London. Women and men alike milled around, clutching shopping bags and jackets.

A group of cats sat by a tall statue of a woman riding on a chariot, staring at each person as they passed.

"That twoleg has nice fur," Crowfeather meowed, looking appreciatively at a skinny woman with glossy raven hair. Nightcloud smacked him lightly with her tail, green eyes sparkling in annoyance.

"You already have me, stop complaining," she meowed.

"And me!" A brown tabby she-cat with a white chest and amber eyes purred. Nightcloud turned around and gave her a swift glare.

"Settle down!" Another tabby snarled. Crowfeather, Nightcloud and the she-cat looked at him.

"Sorry, Hawkfrost," Nightcloud muttered.

"Shut up over there!" a gruff voice said. Firestar, sitting with a large map spread in front of him, glared at them. Squirrelflight sat behind him, staring passionately into Brambleclaw's eyes. Hollypaw was watching the duo curiously, her black ears flicking.

"The clique speaks," Hawkfrost grumbled. "Hey. I'm a poet and I didn't know it. I WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD WITH MY MAD SKILLZ!"

There was silence. Hawkfrost closed his mouth and was quiet.

"So, now," Firestar said. "Where do you want to go?"

"I WANNA HAMBURGER!" shrieked Graystripe. Beside him, Millie shook her glossy head.

"Um, right…" Firestar exchanged a glance with Blackstar, who was sprawled out on the cobbles under the statue, with Russetfur grudgingly waving a giant leaf over him and Snowbird flexing his black toes. "There's a hamburger shop down the road…' But he had no time to finish as a horde of rabid warriors raced past him towards the shop.

"I'll take ten hamburgers, five cheeseburgers, sixteen large portions of fries and four large sodas please," Firestar meowed to the teenager at the desk, who was staring at him behind large, tortishell glasses.

"Right away, um, sir," she said in a cracked voice and disappeared through a door. The cats – lined up on the stools facing the counter – listened as there was some urgent murmuring and a sound of a pan crashing to the ground. Out strode a chubby man with greasy dark hair, who was dressed in a white coat and trousers, smudged with brownish green grease patches.

"What is this?" he shouted in a pure French accent.

Brambleclaw sighed. "Look, we're paying customers, dude. I think you should leave us alone if you want…" He glanced at the till. "…249 pounds, 99 pence."

The man glared at Brambleclaw and disappeared back into the kitchen.

A few hours later, the order finally arrived. All the cats devoured their meal and ran out of the restaurant.

"We love you, Chef!" Hollypaw called, and received a cuffing round the ear from Squirrelflight, who obviously didn't approve of Hollypaw's burning passion for older men.

"Now where shall we go?" Leopardstar watched a large red bus drive past, and her dappled ears pricked up. "Bus!"

"Okay," Firestar said and had no chance to finish as a whole horde of cats rushed past him towards the bus stop.