Cats, Comics, and Chicken Fajitas
"Don't be a sourpuss," Mirtala quietly warned, her hand hovering over the cat's head.
A low, dissatisfied yowl answered her. Leatherface stood on all fours, his tail raising. His nostrils flared, and his eyes were on her, prompting Mirtala to recoil. She tucked her hand to her chest, and the hairless gray Sphinx was satisfied in his conquest, giving his paw a taunting lick.
Mirtala sat cross-legged on the carpet of the trio's apartment where Leatherface relaxed. She drummed her fingers on her forearm, looking over her shoulder and asking, "Did you teach him to hate me?"
From his spot on the couch, Bobby smirked. He rested his knuckles on his cheek, reclining to the side as he said, "If I did, he'd be attacking you. You're lucky he hasn't tried scratching you by now." He slipped onto his stomach and held out his hand. "Leatherface, c'mere."
Leatherface trotted passed Mirtala toward Bobby. He immediately bumped his head into Bobby's calloused palm. He purred as Bobby stroked between his large ears that twitched every few seconds, blinking and chirping at his owner. His tail swished from side to side, occasionally swatting at Mirtala's knee when she shifted around to observe, pursing her lips at the blatant display of affection.
Leatherface's body was a hill of peach fuzz and wrinkles. Mirtala wanted nothing more than to pet him, but when she tried touching him again, Leatherface caught on to her. He whipped his head around and bit at her fingers, earning a squeak from the acrobat, the contact too close for comfort.
Bobby lightly flicked Leatherface's forehead. "I said no biting, you mangy cat. You know you're not allowed to bite her. She's the wrong Aquato."
Indifferent, Leatherface responded by sauntering away from his discipline. Mirtala stuck her tongue out at his hunched backside, his slim tail looking more like a handle. He settled down in a heap, stretching out his long limbs and exposing his fangs while he yawned. When he curled in on himself, ready for a nap, he almost looked sweet, with his eyes slowly closing and his tail gently thumping on the ground.
Mirtala rolled backward and raised her legs in the air. She flipped up, spinning once in mid-air before landing on her toes. Throwing her arms out, she grinned at Bobby, who simply fixed his glasses.
"You gotta do acrobatics when you get up, too?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.
"I'm a prima donna of the circus. How else would I get up? By pushing off on one knee like a regular person?" She dismissed the suggestion with a wave of her hand. "Pass."
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, yeah, prima donna? Why don't you-?"
Bobby cut himself off. He looked like he had physically bitten his tongue. He scratched his neck, avoiding Mirtala's sneer as she shoved his legs off the couch. Making herself comfortable, she sat down and pulled her knees to her chest, demurely tilting her head when he peeked over at her.
Mirtala giggled. "Wow. You're really working on not instigating silly bickering matches with me. Good job, Bob-o."
"And you're failing at it," he snorted, straightening his spine and crossing his arms.
She pressed her hands together. "I was giving you a genuine compliment. You know I wouldn't use sarcasm. It's beneath me."
Bobby opened his mouth to retort, only to huff out what sounded like a half-sigh and half-laugh. "Yeah, yeah, fine, you win."
Bobby snatched a pile of unopened letters off the wood and metal console table next to him. He sorted through bills only to stop at a plastic-sealed magazine. Her curiosity was piqued when he immediately tore through the plastic and dumped the static-charged material on the carpet. Mirtala poked her head closer, her bells jingling and her full ringlets of hair brushing against his face, and to her surprise, he didn't launch a complaint.
It was the latest issue of True Psychic Tales. In the center of a golden plain surrounded by various animals was the girl of their mutual affections. She was dressed in a tan safari ensemble with a wide-brim hat fixed to her head, casting a flattering shadow across her round face. She was drawn with her usual conviction, one hand to her hip, the other to her temple with a soft violet PSI color circling the hat's brim. The tagline, The Space Cadet's Savanna Safari Supernova, immediately had Mirtala confused, wondering how anyone in the Psychonauts' media department would have approved of it.
But what mattered was Chloe. The artist had almost captured her confidence in a way that Bobby could in his paintings. As Bobby pointed out that her eyes seemed just too small and the tip of her round nose was slightly off, Mirtala still couldn't help but marvel at the artistry of bold colors and outlines that complemented Chloe.
"Oh, my God, Chloe is so cute. I need this blown up and plastered on the wall now," Mirtala murmured, covering her mouth, "but seriously, what is that tagline? It sounds like something my papa would think up for the circus."
Bobby snickered, focusing on Chloe. "Yeah, what the hell is a 'Savanna Safari Supernova?' Chloe never mentioned anything about the savanna, so I bet they changed the mission location. Probably over some stupid privacy policy crap."
She nudged on his shoulder, urging him to flip to the story. He thumbed through the credits and legal notes, stopping a full ten pages into the comic. The first page was the cover without the logos, but the next page caught Mirtala's attention. The panels were filled with jungle imagery, monkeys picking wild berries, zebras drinking at waterholes, and lush foliage detailed filling every inch of space provided in the panel.
There, on the third page when Bobby flipped, was Chloe swaying from a vine. She faced the reader, exclaiming, "Well, it's the swing of things for me!"
Bobby immediately clapped the comic closed and shoved his face in his hands. He trembled, his secondhand embarrassment emanating off him in a heat. Mirtala silently beat her ankles on the carpet, her face burning red at the utterly uncharacteristic nature they had given Chloe, known for her blunt intelligence and wit, not eyebrow-arching and pun-making.
"No way, no way," she breathed out, gasping. "Are they gonna give her puns this whole comic? Did they Dreamworks her?"
She didn't wait for Bobby to answer and grabbed the magazine. She skimmed through the issue, bombarded with puns and wordplay that suited her brother over their girlfriend. In almost every single panel featuring Chloe, she was smirking and cracking jokes like eggs over a pan. Her eyebrows were raised, her smirk was stretched, and she even spoke directly to the readers no less than five times, once when she had many guns pointed at her face.
"Well, toucan play at this game," Chloe proclaimed, a toucan flying overhead as she faced a band of poachers.
It was all so very unlike Chloe that Bobby and Mirtala shook from the overwhelming, inadvertent humor. The magazine fell between them on the couch cushions, and Mirtala was the first to break. Her giggling came out like popping bubbles, each octave louder than the last. Bobby threw his head back, almost squawking from how ridiculous the writers had presented Chloe, and Mirtala had to help him catch his breath, rubbing circles on his back when he coughed.
"I can't believe it! They - hehehe! - they made her a Dreamworks character!" Mirtala screeched, and Bobby's entire body quaked from his boisterous guffawing.
A door creaked open in the apartment. Bobby and Mirtala jumped, failing to stop their fits. Footsteps echoed, and a shadow crossed the floor. Chloe came slumping down the hallway. A baby blue wool blanket was draped over her shoulders. With her half-lidded eyes, she stumbled into the living room and dragged her head up to stare at Bobby and Mirtala, who tried desperately to stifle their laughter but could not.
"Hello," she rasped out. "I'm assuming something terrible has happened, and that's why I was awoken from my space flight slumber."
"So-sorry, sorry, Chlo-Chlo," Mirtala sputtered, Bobby offering a weak, lopsided smile. "Yeah, we know you just came home from space, and the time difference is all wonky for you, but come read what came in the mail. It's a riot."
She raised the magazine, and Chloe extended her hand. It lifted from Mirtala's fingers, levitating over to Chloe. She flicked her finger to the right, scanning through the pages, her expression hardly changing. When she raised an eyebrow, Mirtala and Bobby shot a look at each other, trying and failing once again to hide their amusement.
Approaching them, Chloe set the magazine on Mirtala's lap. "This is revisionist history, and I'm calling the editor the moment my circadian cycle cooperates," she proclaimed, sending Mirtala into another chuckling spree.
"Yeah, you should be saying space puns every three panels," Bobby replied, slinging his arm behind the couch, "but what the hell's up with the title? Pretty sure you taught me we'd all be dead if the sun died."
"To be honest, this mission is not mine. I think they substituted me in place of another agent, possibly to boost sales." She grinned, her smile one in a million in their eyes. "Check the last page. The latest agent popularity poll shows I've gone up three places."
Mirtala perked up, bouncing in her spot and pulling open the last page. Bobby leaned into her, following her finger down the list of popular Psychonauts agents intermixed with fanmail. While the obvious stars were present, including her brother tied for third place with Gisu, she squealed and jabbed her finger at the seventh spot when she found Chloe's name in the spot once held by Mikhail.
"Lucky number seven and you beat out that bear lover!" Bobby exclaimed, hopping to his feet. He clenched his fists, a toothy, jagged grin gracing his face. "Oh, I can't wait to rub it in his face. Let me run it in his face, babe."
She shook her head and chuckled. "No, Bobby, I'm not getting involved unless he has a problem with me over this rigged ranking system, which I doubt he will."
Bobby deflated. Mirtala knew he wanted another reason to parade Chloe around the Motherlobe as the superior agent. It was an ordeal she would have eagerly assisted with if Chloe consented.
Mirtala gazed at the cover, letting Chloe and Bobby leave for the kitchen. Chloe mumbled that she was hungry after sleeping all afternoon, and Bobby promised to make her a nice dinner. Mirtala smiled at the Chloe on the cover and started the comic over, wanting to see the differences between the Chloe she adored and the one who stemmed from editorial decisions.
But as Mirtala started reading, Leatherface sprang to life. He meowed at the top of his lungs upon realizing Chloe had walked by him. He dashed up to her, his claws clinging to her blanket. Chloe smiled and kneeled next to him, immediately receiving many licks on her hand before she could even touch him. Leatherface purred like an engine, and she scooped him into her arms, dragging herself over to the couch, Mirtala scowling at the cat who refused to give her an inch.
"I'll make some chicken fajitas and rice," Bobby called, looking over his shoulder. He sneered, showing off his gums. "Don't hog Chloe too much while I'm gone."
Mirtala's lips curled deviously. Setting the comic aside, she wiggled her fingers and looped her arms around Chloe. She pressed her cheek against Chloe's head, jeering, "I'll monopolize her as much as she wants. Go make dinner as best as you can, and maybe, just maybe, I'll release Chloe from my super strong grip, so she can hug you."
"You two are ridiculous," Chloe deadpanned with a grin.
As Bobby threw up his arms and left them alone, Chloe continued stroking the top of Leatherface's head. He alternated between purring at her and hissing toward Mirtala whenever she tried petting him. Chloe shifted the blanket onto Mirtala and remarked, "You two are getting along swimmingly. I haven't seen you trying to pie him in the face or assault him with horns."
She gasped in mock offense, clutching her chest. "Implying I would ever be anything other than nice to your boyfriend?"
Chloe gave a curt nod. "Affirmative. I recall Bobby behaving better than you at the beginning of our relationship."
A flush crossed her freckled cheeks. She did remember honking horns and throwing custard pies at Bobby when a fleeting feeling of jealousy came over her. Mirtala stuck her nose up, replying, "Well, maybe so, but that was a different me, and in time, everyone grows." She quickly dipped her head and planted a kiss on Chloe's head. "And by 'grows,' I mean in both maturity and height, but I see you were mostly affected in the maturity department."
The corner of Chloe's mouth twitched. "Ah. A short joke was made at my expense. Never change, Tala."
The sound of the stovetop coming to life, flickering with embers against an oiled pan brought an even wider grin to Mirtala's face. She grabbed the magazine and dove into the fanmail section, proclaiming she wanted to know what the readers thought about her Chlo-Chlo. Although she had to avoid Leatherface clawing at the comic, growling back at him when he became too handsy, she nestled next to Chloe, taking in her quiet, drowsy smile.
(In-between reading adoring sentences from fans across the world, Mirtala peppered Chloe's face with kisses. And when Bobby came to them balancing three spicy dishes, she realized he was also happy.)