It is commonly known that we cats have nine lives. Nine chances to die. I have long waited for the moment when I could finally say that Munkustrap, leader of that pathetic tribe known as the "Jellicles," was dead by my paw. Not just that he'd been killed, but that he was truly dead, all nine of his lives expended. With him gone there is nothing to stop me from finishing off the rest of their pathetic little tribe, from destroying their precious little junkyard.
They banished me from them long ago, for crimes now only remembered by a select few. They tore me from my daughters, my daughters Bombalurina and Demeter who grew up with only the legends of their father. I swore that day, that day they sent me away, that I would have my vengeance. That I would make that miserable fool Munkustrap and his pompous windbag of a father Deuteronomy pay for what they did to me.
My vengeance is finally complete. Munkustrap is dead, and dead by my paw. The tribe that Deuteronomy prided himself on leading is in shambles. They sleep in fear, wondering who will be the next to die.
That is a decision for another day, though. Today is an opportunity for me to revel in my victory. To delight in the demise of Munkustrap.
