All was quiet outside the venue. Then he remembered! He still had his earplugs in. He quickly removed them and his ears were instantly met with a cacophony of sounds. Raindrops smashed into the concrete paving slabs while the wind whistled through the narrow streets. The distant sticky rumble of car tyres thundering over the wet tarmac was permeated with the faint warble of a police siren. As he strained to listen, his ears began to pick up other noises too. The echolocation of a pipistrelle bat somewhere in the roof of the building. The squeaks, squeals and rustling of rats and mice coming from somewhere nearby. The vibrating wings of a large, yellow underwing moth attracted by the porch light sounded like a helicopter to him. He immediately noted that the gate was open and the guard who was supposed to have been manning it was nowhere in sight; nor was there sign of Demeter. She had definitely passed through here very recently though, because her scent still lingered in the damp air. However, it was also mixed with other scents, which were unfamiliar. Toms. At least eight of them. As if on cue, the sounds of a struggle rent the night air; claws scraping on cement, and an angry hiss immediately followed by a frightened whimper. He uttered a low growl and his tail thrashed. There were hushed whispers behind him, but he didn't need to turn his head to recognise the individuals making them; just as they could tell without having to ask that the situation had become very tense. Some also began to growl and scrape their feet, but Munkustrap held out a paw, motioning for calm. He flashed Alonzo a brief glare and his son knew what it meant: 'Stay put and be prepared, for anything!' "No sense in us both going down," Munkustrap warned. "You know the drill. Keep them safe and take over if I fall. But only if I fall!"

Alonzo swallowed and nodded. Then Munkustrap crept out of the entrance and headed towards the sounds; a fire, fuelled by dread, growing inside him with every silent step.

Demeter wiped tears from her face as she made her way outside. She just needed a breather, a break from the noise of the stuffy club so that she could think clearly. To stand in the rain and let the sky pour its misery down upon her. "Open the gate please," she ordered the guard.

"Certainly Marm," he nodded and held it open for her.

She slipped through and walked around the corner, lifting her face up to the sky and letting the raindrops fall into her eyes and ears, feeling them cool on her cheeks. "Trying to catch a cold, are we my dear?" said a gruff voice, so unexpectedly that it made her jump.

She spun round and came face to face with a stranger. The jowly British blue Shorthair, who was dressed in a black leather waistcoat, stared at her keenly with his amber eyes while a group of mismatched toms sniggered behind his back. To say they were all hideous was an understatement. In fact, each one looked as though he had fallen out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. They were mean looking and sported scarred, battle worn faces complete with missing eyes, torn ears and noses out of line. One chap's nose and eyes appeared to be pointing in opposite directions, while another's face was so pinched that it looked as though someone had scrunched it up like a piece of paper. "So? What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all on your ownsome? Fancy some company?" the leader sneered.

"Leave me alone!" she muttered, trying to push passed him, but found her way back to the club blocked by three more huge toms.

"I asked you a question, little lady," said the ring leader, his voice turning threatening. "Your rudeness upsets me. Perhaps I should teach you some manners, seeing that you have so kindly wandered into my territory without my permission."

Demeter gulped and tried to back away, but her escape was blocked off by a cold brick wall. With ugly toms pressing in on her from all sides, she swiped with her claws in panic and caught the blue Shorthair across his flabby face. His hissed with rage and slammed her into the wall, catching her throat with his paw, and forcing her mouth open, while his other paw began feeling its way through her fur. She screamed, but the sound was stifled as he pressed his lips hard against hers, flicking his tongue against the inside of her mouth so that she gagged. Just when she thought her fate was sealed, she suddenly heard a familiar growl and almost cried with relief when, out of the darkness, came a condescending voice, "Well, well, well! If it isn't Phallus. The Macavity sympathizer and his vermin? How things have changed. Time has not looked kindly on you, I see."

The blue tom snarled and turned around to face the insolent fool who had the audacity to insult him, allowing Demeter to slip out of his grasp and stagger towards the group of cats who were waiting apprehensively on the sidelines. Jazzie came up behind Alonzo and cried out in horror at the scene before her. Alonzo grabbed her arm just in time to stop her from charging over to Munkustrap with the sole intention of dragging him away from the danger. "No Jazzie!" he hissed. "He knows what he's doing! You mustn't interfere!"

"Lâchez-moi! I won't stand by and watch him get hurt again! Or worse!" she shouted hoarsely. "Not again! Zut! Not zis again!" *1 &2

"Jazz! It's his duty...!" Alonzo roared through gritted teeth but she appeared to have forgotten how to understand English all of a sudden. It took the combined strength of Lucitana, Hortenseya, Norstara and Mungojerry to hold her back, but she still continued to struggle and plead. "Munkustraaap! S'il te plaît, ne me fais pas ça…!" *3

But Munkustrap ignored her. The whole of his attention was focused upon the group of menacing thugs who had him surrounded. "I'll teach you to use my proper name, JELLICLE!" the blue Shorthair spat. "My name is Tallus, leader of the Vandals! And this is my street on which you trespass! For that you must pay!"

"I appreciate that," Munkustrap replied, calmly. "Name your price."

"Five grand, plus a go on your bitches!" Tallus replied with a snarl.

"I don't tend to carry that sort of cash on me, I'm afraid," said Munkustrap loftily. "And touching my queens is absolutely out of the question."

"Then your life will have to do. You shall be screaming my name by the time I'm done with you!" Tallus growled.

Munkustrap held up his paws, but stood firm. He had Demeter, now all he wanted to do was get the hell out of there, but it seemed that the gang had other ideas. As they closed in, he attempted to placate them, "Now, gentlemen! You seem like a civilised bunch! None of us want any trouble. So if you just let us go back to our territory, then no one has to get hurt."

The gang of cats looked at each other and sniggered. "Haw haw! We'll let you go back," chortled one with a face that only a mother could love. "Boss here will wear your rather fetching pelt as a sign of victory and send back your rotten corpse as a token of thanks!"

They all fell about laughing. "Good one Bingo!" Tallus chortled.

After wiping his eyes he turned to the grey the white Shorthair who possessed the scrunched up face. "So Treloar?" he asked, "What to you think we should do with him?"

"He looks like lunch on a stick to me, Boss," Treloar replied, before noisily sucking up a line of drool which was continually dribbling out of the side of his not-quite-closed mouth.

"And you look like the inside of a pig's arse, but who's complaining?" Munkustrap retorted.

At this petulant insult Treloar roared and lashed out, catching Munkustrap in the side of his mouth with enough force to snap his head to the side. The pavement and surrounding cats were sprayed with droplets of blood in the process. Then the gang watched, with mouths agape, as Munkustrap slowly turned back around to face them, cursing, "Ah! Bast! Not again!"

Using his fingers, he gently eased his lip away from where it had been impaled by one of his fangs, giving no indication that it hurt, other than to flex his shoulders. Then his eyes began to glow amber and in a chilling voice he uttered the words, "Very well. I didn't want to have to do this."

With a fire in his eyes reminiscent to that of his distant wild ancestor, he attacked with such ferocity that the gang members were taken completely by surprise. Treloar's face crumpled even more as Munkustrap jumped up and drove his foot into his sternum before swinging his other leg back to kick the opponent who tried to attack him from behind. As both toms fell to the ground, Munkustrap was already defending himself against the next onslaught. His paw hardly seemed to move as in the blink of an eye a tom lay dead at his feet while another went down with an elbow to the jaw, another with a half moon shaped gash across the throat and he was about to deal with another, when a heavy arm reached around and caught him around the neck. To add to this rather unfortunate turn of events, the cat he had been about to attack then turned around and started to punch him in the head. It didn't take long for the black dots to appear in his line of vision as his lungs fought hungrily for air. And found none. His stiff leather collar was the only thing preventing his windpipe from being crushed as he gasped and clawed at the choking arm. Becoming frantic, he stamped on his assailant's foot. The tom grunted and loosened his grip. But not enough! So Munkustrap stamped harder. The was a 'crunch!' But even though the tom roared with pain, he still didn't let go. Munkustrap's lungs felt as though they were about to burst. Slowly his struggles became weaker, his world began to turn black and he knew that all was lost. But just before he lost consciousness, he suddenly discovered an arm and with the last of his waning strength, bit down as hard as he could, feeling his teeth slicing through fur, flesh and eventually reaching bone. The tom howled and at long last, let go. The air rushed back into Munkustrap's burning lungs and he doubled up, panting and gasping. But he didn't have long to recover because the tom who had tried to choke him was about to try again, and this time he would finish him off for good! So with his vision still a bit foggy, Munkustrap grabbed his arm and dislocated it, then picked him up by the same arm and flung him into the one who had been punching him, knocking him flying. He then hurled the tom he was grappling with screaming into the wall and jump kneed him, letting the rough bricks do the work of shredding the his lungs against his crushed ribs so that he died gargling on his own blood. Looking on with increasing desperation as one by one his gang members fell to the ground either dead or dying, Tallus quietly removed something from his waistcoat pocket. He began to walk slowly towards the Bengcoon, who had just taken out the last two toms with a backwards somersault, smashing their bodies into the stony ground. He didn't see Tallus walking towards him until he heard a disembodied voice shout in his ear, "Look out!"

He glanced up just in time to react to the paw which was heading towards his stomach and managed to bat it off target, but couldn't stop it entirely. He felt a sudden cold sting and gasped. Someone screamed and the world seemed to stand still. Meanwhile, Tallus gave a wicked smile and pulled the two inch switchblade out of Munkustrap's side. Munkustrap stared in horror at the knife. It was caked with blood. His blood. He held his breath, ready to accept whatever his fate might be, while Tallus just stood back and laughed as though watching a good film, waiting with anticipation for his victim to fall to the ground. They both waited. And waited. Munkustrap took one breath. Then another. But death didn't come and Tallus's laughter died on his lips as Munkustrap's shock morphed into fury. He snarled and took the opportunity to teach the conniving Brit a lesson he would never forget. His adversary panicked and tried to slash with the knife, but Munkustrap grabbed his arm and twisted it sharply around, causing him to stab himself in the back. With a sickening crunch, Tallus's shoulder was also wrenched from its socket. He shrieked with agony and cursed at the top of his lungs as, with an almighty roar, Munkustrap smashed his head into the wall, painting it with his brains. "That's what you get for touching my Queen, asshole!" he hissed at the dead tom and threw the body to the ground.

Within ten minutes it was all over. The bodies of either dead or dying cats lay strewn on the ground all around. Munkustrap wiped gore from his mouth, spat out a load of bloody fluff and his eyes slowly returned to their normal colour. He took a few deep, shuddering breaths and was about to rejoin his friends and family by the club entrance when he happened to glance down at his right forearm. "Damn!" He cursed again.

The bastard Brit had caught him a second time! The cut was deep so he deftly removed his collar and strapped it around his arm, using it like a tourniquet to prevent anymore bloodloss, just as Jazzie managed to struggle free from her living restraints. With a cry she raced towards him and practically dived into his arms. "Careful-!" he warned her.

She didn't know whether to give him Hell or simply be glad that he was alive, so she settled on both. "Putain...d'idiot!" she part hissed/ part sobbed in between kissing him. "Vous pourriez avoir été tué! Je ne peux plus supporter ça-!" *4

"Hang on, wait a minute-! Jazzie! I can't understand you!" He interrupted her.

She stopped babbling but continued to sniff, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Take some deep breaths," he told her. "Speak slooowly . Preferably in English!"

She nodded and swallowed. Then she croaked, "I sought...I sought you were...!"

"So did I for a few moments," he admitted.

"But why did you DO zat?" she demanded.

He shrugged and replied, "It was my duty."

"And now you are hurt!" she berated.

"Not seriously," he tried to argue. "Not all of this is mine..."

He indicated the blood which caked his fur. She didn't realise that her own face was also smeared with red. "I shall be ze judge of zat!" she snapped, examining the wound in his side. "Zis is deep!"

After arguing a bit more they eventually met up with the others beside the gate, and with her glaring at him the entire time, Munkustrap addressed the small gathering of cats. "Are we all accounted for?" he asked. "Tugger? Tugger?! Bast! Where has that wretched, fluff brained, hip thrusting, no good son of a pollicle got to now?"

He was met with shrugs and cats looking around, scratching their heads.
"Hey, is that your friend hurling his guts up over there?" asked the doorcat, pointing to a heaving figure over by some bin bags.

"Yeah. That's him," said Munkustrap dryly. "Where the Hell did you get to anyway? I told you, no one allowed out without my permission!"

The old doorcat shrugged, apologetically. "Toilet break. Sorry. And the little lady looked like she needed some air."

"Whatever," Munkustrap sighed and wandered over to where his brother was crouched down, still emptying out the contents of his stomach.

Munkustrap waited patiently until he had finished and was able to take a few deep breaths. "You alright?" he asked gruffly.

"I will be. Just give us a minute…" his brother croaked weakly.

"I told you not to get rat arsed!" Munkustrap snapped.

"Easier said than done, Bro..."

"Can you stand?"

In response Rum Tum Tugger straightened himself up, swaying ever so slightly. "Yeah, just about…"

Then he peered blearily at his brother as though seeing him for the first time. "Say? What happened to you?"

"Like I said before, this is a dangerous area and we need to leave now-!" Munkustrap replied hastily.

"Oh my God! Dude! You've been stabbed!" Rum Tum Tugger exclaimed.

"Oh really?" Said Munkustrap sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed!"

"Here, use these."

The maned Tom took off his prized scarf from around his leg, then removed his most coveted studded belt and held both items out to Munkustrap. "Are you sure?" asked Munkustrap.

"You're bleeding. Of course I'm sure!" Rum Tum Tugger replied in a no nonsense tone of voice. "What are brother's for?"

Munkustrap nodded his thanks and graciously took them from him, but as he did so Rum Tum Tugger was able to get a closer look at his injury. At the sight of blood, his eyes widened. Then they rolled back in his head and he fell flat on his face. Munkustrap held the scrunched up scarf in place against the side of his ribs and quickly secured it using the belt. It was rather snug, with him only just managing to get it buckled up using the first hole! But when this was done, he bent down to pick his brother up off of the pavement. Wrinkling his nose at the stench of alcohol mixed with vomit and blood, he slung Rum Tum Tugger's arm over his shoulders and roughly supported him around the waist. "Come on," he muttered. "Let's get out of here. Don't make me carry you!"

"I love you, man!" wailed Rum Tum Tugger.

"I wish I could say the feeling was mutual," Munkustrap growled, part walking, part dragging his semi-conscious brother away from the club with the rest of the Jellicles silently joining them.

As they picked their way passed the scene of carnage, they couldn't help but gape and gasp. "Crikey!" exclaimed Mungojerry. "Looks like someone upset the Munkus cart and smashed every bottle, don't it?"

"Jerry!" scolded Rumpleteazer. "Dontcha know it's rude to stare!"

"Er...Dad?"

"Not now, Lonz…" grumbled Munkustrap.

"Dad!" Alonzo insisted, becoming more urgent.

"WHAT?" Munkustrap snapped.

" Behind us…!" Alonzo whimpered.

Munkustrap turned around and saw precisely 'what'. A crowd of menacing cats, some wielding knives and toasting forks, were stalking towards them. There were too many to fight. It would be a bloodbath. "Er...so what's the plan then, Munkus?" Mungojerry asked nervously. "You have got a plan, aintcha?"

"Ummm...a plan...right..." Munkustrap muttered thoughtfully. "Actually, I have a very good one. RUN!"

"But-but...what about our instruments-?" protested Rum Tum Tugger.

"Fuck the instruments!"

Luckily, Rum Tum Tugger found his legs and the group didn't need any other encouragement. They tore through the streets with the gang of bloodthirsty toms in hot pursuit. They splashed through puddles, their pads pounding the concrete as they went. Then suddenly they were met with a sight which almost stopped their hearts. The queens screamed! Out of the darkness a sea of fiercely glowing eyes awaited the terrified group as it skidded to a halt, the queens in the centre and the four toms standing protectively on the outside searching frantically for an escape route. But with hostile cats behind and in front, there was nowhere left to run. They were trapped. The queens clung onto each other and began to wail, while the toms got ready to fight to the last. "Well, good luck and all that," Mungojerry said bitterly. "The party was good while it lasted, weren't it?"

"Sorry Bro," Rum Tum Tugger added. "I should have listened to you after all."

"Don't waste your final moments on all that crap. Just focus on staying alive!" Munkustrap snapped.

"It was nice knowing you guys!" Alonzo interjected.

"Not helpful, Lonz!" snarled his father. "By the Grace of Everlasting Cat, death is not coming for us today!"

All the while, the gangs were closing in. Munkustrap flattened his ears and crouched down. "Whatever happens," he growled. "I'm going to make every one of those bastards wish they'd never set eyes on a Jellicle!"

Scents drifted through the night air. Hundreds of them. But through all of those scents, Munkustrap's nose was able to pick one out. He sniffed. That scent! It was strangely familiar. Slowly, he drew himself back up to his full height and walked towards the gang of cats in front. The cats behind appeared to have stopped. It was a standoff! "Munkustrap! Qu'est-ce que tu fais!?" Jazzie shouted. *5

Pretending not to hear her, he crept towards The dark figure who stood at the helm of the second gang, trying to get a better look at him, but he was obscured by shadows. "Show yourself, he who dares to threaten us!" Munkustrap demanded.

The figure carefully stepped out of the gloom. He was a large Maine Coon with light smoke coloured fur, smokey black points and silver eyes. Munkustrap's face broke into a smile of recognition and relief. "Katon? The Felons? I don't think I've ever been so happy to see someone in my entire life! You frightened the life out of me!"

"Good to see you, cuz. It's been a long time," said Katon. "Don't worry, we'll take care of these villains from here. Tallus stole our territory from us and we have been trying to take it back since June of last year."

Munkustrap nodded. "Tallus is no more," he informed his second cousin. "I would stick around to help with the rest but as you can see, I am injured and one of my queens as fallen ill."

"Then you must go to her, friend. And I thank you. Consider yourself a favour owed."

Katon firmly grasped Munkustrap's paw and pulled him into a rough hug. "Go in peace, Cousin," he said. "May the Everlasting Cat be with you and your family."

"The same to you, friend. Long may the Jellicles and Felons continue to be allies," Munkustrap replied, and with that Katon's gang parted like The Red Sea to let them through.

Munkustrap nodded to his party to follow him and as they did so, the Felons closed ranks behind them. They didn't stop to look back, even as the shrieks and sounds of battle rent the night air.