Chapter 1: With the Monster

It was Saturday. Again. And that could only mean one thing.

Americat had staked out the purrfect spot atop his human's tallest bookshelf and was waiting for the Beast to appear. It came at the same time every week, after his post-breakfast nap but before his pre-dinner nap. And each week he and his human did mortal battle with the Beast.

His tail swished with excitement as his human came downstairs and began to move his toys off the floor. That was always the first sign.

She saw him on the bookshelf and made high-pitched noises of affection. Normally that was his cue to purr and rub against her legs so she would pet him. Or feed him. Wait, was it dinnertime yet?

No, he had to stay focused. The Beast was coming.

"Hey, widdle Alfred! Who's a good kitty? You are! Yes you are!"

Yes, she was a wonderful human, if a bit simpleminded. But that gave him a great purpose in life, to be her protector. Her hero, one could say; that was what he said.

"Now, you're going to be good today, right? No fussing or scratching?"

"Meow, meow?! Meow!" (Come on, what are you waiting for?! It'll be here any minute!"

She walked out of the living room and Americat tensed up as the closet door squeaked on its hinges. This was it!

The Beast began to roar and he heard his human moving around to keep from being eaten. They came closer and closer…

There it was! The Beast's head had appeared around the corner!

Americat leapt into action. With a yowl he pounced from the bookshelf and landed on the Beast's tiny skull. He swatted at its glowing eye, claws unsheathed, but to no avail. The Beast's roars grew louder and it jerked violently backwards - he just managed to hang on and clamped his teeth onto its long thin neck.

His human was battling too. She was grappling with the Beast's long neck, trying to choke it into submission. Her face was furious and she was shouting something - probably trying to intimidate the Beast. If she could do it he just might get the upper hand.

It was a long and heroic battle as he scrambled around the Beast, scratching and biting at its head, neck, body, and its long skinny tail. His human maintained her chokehold on the thing's neck, but the Beast kept up the fight by constantly moving around the room.

Then at last, when Americat began to tire, his human dropped the Beast's neck. He leaped away - it was nearly vanquished!

"MEOW!" (I'm the HERO!)

With a mighty smack of his heroic paw, the Beast fell silent. But he knew it was not dead - it would return again next Saturday.

As Alfred strolled away for his afternoon nap in the sun, his owner just shook her head and chuckled. Such a silly cat, getting all worked up over a little vacuuming every single week.