Munkustrap walked through the door of his den and did a double take. "What the Hell…?"
The place was a complete tip! He didn't have very many material possessions, but the few that he did have were strewn across the floor. The bookshelf had been emptied of its books and vinyl records, the volumes carpeting the hardwood boards like paving slabs; some lying open as though someone had been reading them. A small table lay on its side next to its fallen comrades: a wooden wind up turntable and a large black typewriter; of which sheets of paper had exploded out of like a wound, spreading out across the floor. Growling, Munkustrap quickly gathered up the papers, trying to put them into some sort of order, but groaning when he realised that they were completely muddled up and some bits were even missing! He righted the table and put the papers down onto it for now, intending to go through them later, then he rescued the heavy typewriter and hefted it back onto the table with a hollow 'clunk!' before doing the same with the turntable. Next, he set about picking up the records, followed by the books and shoving them back onto the shelf (He would have to put them into alphabetical order later!) It was as he was replacing a rather hefty volume entitled, The Rulebook: a guide to being a successful Jellicle Protector, that he noticed his old Victorian style teak storage trunk. It was a fine piece of furniture; simple and unassuming, but sturdy and functional in its design with an aged finish, wooden feet, large metal ring handles, metal fixings and a metal cross latch which was usually locked shut with a chunky padlock. But someone had clearly managed to unlock it, for the flat lid was wide open and the trunk's contents had exploded out of it. It was looking most put out at having been broken into, for it had probably never happened in all the time it had been standing there in the corner of the room (which was a lot longer than Munkustrap had been alive). He abandoned the books and knelt to check over the items. Whoever had gotten them out had had a jolly good nose about, but thankfully nothing appeared to be missing. A scrap book was lying open. Someone had clearly been perusing through it, so he went through it page by page to check that none of the photographs or newspaper clippings had been ripped out. His flicking revealed a myriad of images, including a photograph of a newborn kitten, a beautiful charcoal, marbled bengal queen holding five mismatched newborn kittens and next to that a photograph of an older kitten dressed in a white chorister's cape, wearing a gold medal on a blue ribbon around his neck. He was also proudly clutching a cut crystal trophy in the shape of a rhomboid. There was another photograph of a skinny youth standing in a clearly choreographed pose, staring blankly at an unseen camera. "Gosh, I'm so thin!" he thought, noting that his biceps were now probably the same size as the waist of his adolescent self.
There were further images of models, including one of him posing moodily with his brother Rum Tum Tugger and a fresh faced Macavity. Upon turning the page, he found another image, this time of a young dancer holding a finishing pose. This was followed by an image of his young self being presented with his mark of Protectorship, which was the collar he now wore. There were also newspaper cuttings featuring a band and various headlines. But it was the image of a couple that made him stop. He paid particular attention, not to the skinny youth with his sunken eyes and defiant smirk, but to the young female he was posing next to. She was a long furred Balinese with light fawn merle markings mixed with white, streaked with faint mackerel stripes. She gazed out at him with wide, violet blue eyes which were slightly too close together, giving her the appearance of being just a little bit cross eyed. But this only added to her cute charm. Around her neck she wore a sparkling diamante collar that matched her eyes beautifully. How he had been mesmerized by those eyes... Before the lump in his throat could grow any larger he shut the book with a 'snap!' and carefully placed it in the bottom of the trunk. Then he proceeded to carefully place everything else back inside, including the weighty crystal trophy that had been in the photograph along with the gold medal still hanging on its rather faded blue ribbon, a black leather case containing a pince nez, a brass telescope, a harmonica and a crumpled black cloak, which he carefully folded before putting it away. Next, he delicately collected up a mala bead necklace from the floor and examined it for signs of damage. It was made from smooth black laboradite and blue kyanite beads complete with a silver guru bead pendant depicting the intricate image of a tree. Satisfied that it was undamaged, he slipped it into its black velvet cloth bag and put it with the rest of his things. Lastly, he picked up a blue velvet collar which was covered in sparkling diamante crystals, the very same one that She had been wearing. Touching it sent shock waves through him like an electric current. "Yes I know! Sorry!" He muttered, barely glancing at it as he quickly wrapped it up in its blue velvet cloth and stuffed it back inside the trunk before closing the lid and locking it.
It didn't take him long to work out who the perpetrator of this destruction was, because not only did their scent fill the den, but they were fast asleep on his bed! He could just make out his blankets moving up and down with the sleeper's shallow breaths. So he slowly crept towards the bulge in the middle of the carefully laid out cushions and with one deft movement, whipped off the blankets, revealing..."Rumpleteazer. I might have known."
"Oh!" She woke up with a start.
"Oh indeed."
She stared up at him with petrified eyes. "Um...hi! Er...I was t-t-tired-?"
He growled at her and spoke quietly, his voice growing steadily angrier with every syllable, "It is a good job that you are female or I would be whooping your behind right now. As it stands, I may well break my pledge of nonviolence towards the fairer sex if you do not vacate my den within the next five seconds! One-!"
Before he could get to 'two' she was off like a rocket and practically zoomed out of the exit like a thing possessed. She didn't look back. "And if I see her come within ten feet of my den again, I will kick her all the way back to Victoria Grove!" he thought moodily.
Then he shook his head and groaned when he realised he now only had a short time to clean his wounds, clean his teeth (he still had remnants of his opponent's fur stuck in the gaps!) have a wash and give his dusty coat a thorough brush! Yikes!