Don't you love those moments when you realize your wool sweater has been made wrong?

DISCALIMER: I still own nothing...yay...

Chapter 5: Cat Fishing

"Otto? What are you doing?" Norman walked into Doc Ock's lab. He was currently using his tentacles to knit a sweater. It was pink and small and seemed to have three sleeves. He looked up and abruptly rose up, trying to hide the "sweater," Behind his back.

"Just a new hobby I'm trying Norman," He chuckled nervously. Norman looked at him, and shook his head.

"I wonder about you sometimes Otto," He sighed. Doc Ock lowered his head.

"Yes well, I don't need to explain myself to you. Now tell me what your newest plan is," Dock Ock mumbled.

"Just build this," Norman shoved some blueprints into Ock's tentacles. He walked back out of the large room and Doc Ock got to work. It was a simple machine. It was basically an add-on to the main computer that would allow it to process more complex commands and formulas. He finished and took out some newspaper clippings. One recent one read:

Cat shelter going out of business! All cats under $1.00!

Doc Ock saw the number for the shelter. He typed it into the computer and called.

"Hello?" a woman's voice answered.

"Yes, hello. I was calling about your shelter, I want to purchase a few cats."

"Really!" The woman sounded delighted, "Well you can call me Debbie. We have all kinds of cats: Siamese, shorthair, Persian...how many did you say you wanted?"

"I'll take...all of them," He smiled as Debbie put him on hold to tell her husband, Tom, the news. He heard her squealing and shouting. Ock grinned wider when he thought of his plans, a small prank couldn't hurt right? Besides, Norman deserved it. Ock laughed as he settled the delivery arrangements and sat back down. He resumed his knitting, he would need a lot of sweaters.

When Norman walked into the lab later, he was shocked. The air reeked of tuna and liter boxes. Covering the floor, were a hundred cats of all shapes, sizes, and breeds. They all had one thing in common, they all were wearing pink, matching, three-sleeved sweaters.

"OTTO!" He screamed as a kitten rubbed against his leg. But Ock was nowhere to be found. And taped to a nearby wall, was a poorly written note that read:

Gone CAT-fishing!

Thanks to IronFistRocks for the suggestion. I love cats and Doc Ock seems like he would too...maybe...if he wasn't evil...anyway,

Wolf out...