Disclaimer: I do not own The Mr. Men Show or Warriors or any of their characters. But I own the idea for this story.
After checking and then double checking that nobody was paying attention to him, Mr. Funny slipped up the ravine and entered the forest. He made sure he was far enough from the camp before slowing down and walking at a steady pace. He looked around at the trees and undergrowth around him.
It had been a shock to wake up as a cat, but since he had been there when Mr. Nosy and Mr. Small asked Little Miss Magic to zap them the rest of the Warriors books, he immediately guessed her spell had gone wrong. He knew he should be upset like the rest of his friends, but he found that he was a little excited.
But I still feel guilty about not being able to tell them that I have all the books, he thought, stopping for a moment and sighing. Then he started walking again. I tried, I really did. But since I can't actually talk, I was unable to. And I still can't talk here.
He opened his mouth and tried speaking, but no actual words came out, just mewling sounds. He sighed again. He desperately wished he could tell his friends that he had all the books: all the main series books, all the manga and graphic novels, super editions, and even the guides. He's also researched many things about Clan life and details. He knew a couple of his friends might have also read a book or two, but as far as he knew, nobody else had all the books.
If only he had been able to tell Mr. Nosy and Mr. Small that before Little Miss Magic did her spell. He silently cursed himself for not being able to talk.
And also part of him didn't want the responsibility of organizing his friends, even if he could talk. Clan or not, they needed to figure out life here, and he could never take anything as serious as he needed to. He was a clown. Even as a cat, he just wanted to goof off and make his friends laugh. He had no desire to step up as a leader, and he had a feeling that if his friends knew he knew so much about the books and life here, they might turn to him for advice which he knew he couldn't take seriously enough to be helpful.
Unlike some of his friends, he was looking forward to hunting. As a Mr. Man, he was curious to how cats hunt their own food, and now as a cat that curiosity has sharpened and his instincts long to try it for real.
Dropping to a crouched, he made sure his tail wasn't touching the ground and he tasted the air, picking up a delicious smell coming from below the roots of a tree. The leaf mulch shivered and a tiny nose poked out, followed by the rest of the mouse's body. Fixing his eyes on his prey, Mr. Funny slowly crept forward.
Then an unfamiliar scent drifted around him, and he sat up, stiffening. His movements alerted the mouse, and the tiny creature disappeared under the roots of the tree. Forgetting about his lost prey, the dark brown tabby tom tasted the air, feeling his neck fur rising. Something was wrong.
Then an ear splitting yowl filled the forest. "Help! Fox!"
He crouched down, shivering with fear. A flash of black caught his attention, and he saw Mr. Nosy running past him, his tail streaming out behind him. He must have heard the cry, too.
Mr. Funny jumped to his paws and dashed after his friend, falling in step with him as the two cats ran to see what was happening, the unfamiliar scent of a fox growing stronger around them.
The black cat glanced at Mr. Funny, surprise lighting his eyes, but he said nothing, just turned back in front of him and picked up the pace a little.
They came to a thick part of the woods where the fox scent seemed to be everywhere at once, but underneath the harsh tang, he picked up the scent of a cat and blood.
Another yowl split the air.
"What is a cat doing way out here?" Mr. Nosy demanded, lashing his tail and seeming not to realize this cat didn't smell like any of their friends, which most likely meant it was a loner or a rogue. "I'd told everyone not to go far from the camp until we exploded a little bit better. There's no telling what could be lurking in these woods."
Foxes, apparently, Mr. Funny replied silently, turning in every direction to judge where the screams were coming from. But the scent of the fox and the yowls of the cat in danger and the reek of blood was confusing him. Suddenly he realized the rest of Mr. Nosy's portal had joined them: Mr. Small, Mr. Lazy, Little Miss Chatterbox, Mr. Fussy, Mr. Bump, and Mr. Tickle. They were all looking around with huge, terrified eyes.
"It sounds like it's coming from over there." Mr. Bump pointed with a paw in the direction of a thicket. "The fox must have the poor cat trapped on the other side of those brambles."
But nobody made a move toward the noises; they all crouched down, looking too scared to do anything. Mr. Funny kneaded the ground as he willed someone to do something. The longer they hesitated and did nothing, the more the cat got hurt. The fox could even kill them, he thought, gulping.
He was relieved when he saw Mr. Nosy gesturing for everyone to move closer to him. "You all stay here," he meowed. "I'm going to see what I can do to help the cat. But stay alert," he added. "The fox could run over here when I attack it or there could be more around."
"You can't attack it by yourself," Mr. Small objected. "Let me come and help you."
Shaking his head, Mr. Nosy dug his claws in the earth, as if impatient to help the cat, too. "Fighting is too dangerous for someone your size."
Mr. Funny stiffened when a flash of anger appeared in Mr. Small's eyes. "None of us know how to fight," the small cat pointed out.
"We don't have time to argue," Mr. Nosy growled, and he gestured for Mr. Funny and Mr. Bump to join him. "Circle around the bush and surprise the fox from the sides," he told them. "It sounds like the fox is facing the bush, so I'll circle around the trees and jump it from behind."
Mr. Bump stared at the black tom as if he just announced he was about to spread wings and fly. "Attack it?" he gasped.
"Yes," Mr. Nosy replied, and he gestured for the mottle gray tom to go to one side while Mr. Funny went to the other. Taking a deep breath, Mr. Funny started circling around the bush, noticing that Mr. Bump didn't move at first, looking beyond terrified. Finally, after Mr. Nosy pushed him toward the bush, he swallowed and took up his position.
Mr. Funny poked his head around the bush and gasped when he saw the beast crouched over a cat. The cat let out another yowl and tried sitting up, but Mr. Funny saw a huge gash in her leg and she fell back to the ground.
A black pelt made him turn to see Mr. Nosy circling around and when he was in the right position, he let out a wordless yowl and threw himself at the creature. Mr. Funny watched him in terror and awe for a moment as he landed on the fox's back and dug in his claws. The fox let out a scream and threw his head back. He snapped at the black cat, his teeth barely missing Mr. Nosy's paws as the cat jumped off him again.
The fox spun around, glaring at the cat, before lunging for him. Mr. Funny held his breath. At the last moment, Mr. Nosy jumped sideways, and the fox skidded to a halt before turning on him.
Unable to see his friend battling a fox by himself, Mr. Funny yowled and threw himself at the fox. It turned in surprise to see a second opponent. Then it growled and charged at him. Remembering a move from the book, Mr. Funny slipped under its belly, raking his claws down its stomach before popping out on the other side and turning immediately and slashing the fox's nose as it turned to him.
He noticed some cat carrying the injured cat away, and then he turned back to the fox. It seemed to be seizing him up, but it growled and backed away as Mr. Nosy walked up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Funny. The fox looked from cat to cat and then turned and ran farther into the forest.
Mr. Funny sighed with relief. He realized his paw was bleeding from a claw being ripped out and his pelt was sticky with blood, but he was satisfied to realize most of it belonged to the fox.
Limping, Mr. Funny went to check on the injured cat. It was then that he smelled a new scent. It was cats, but he didn't recognize any of them.
Before he could warn his friends, a twig snapped nearby and everyone jumped in surprise. Then a cat, followed by three more, stepped out in the open. Mr. Funny blinked, suddenly feeling like he should know these cats.
"Hello there," a dark cream tom meowed, dipping his head politely, but he seemed wary about his group being outnumbered. Behind the cat's meow, Mr. Funny thought he detected a hint of a voice he remembered hearing once in something almost like a dream.
Mr. Nosy stepped forward. "Hello. Who are you?" His eyes widened and he gasped. "I saw you yesterday by the Twolegplace!"
The dark cream tom, who Mr. Funny noticed for the first time had white fur around his orange eyes, dipped his head again. "Yes, I saw you, too," he said. "We thought–"
"Mr. Nosy!" gasped Mr. Bump, who crouched over the limp form of the injured cat. "She needs help. What do we do for her?" There was panic in his voice as he stared at the black tom.
Before Mr. Nosy could reply, one of the newcomers, a slick ginger tabby, spoke up," Is something wrong?"
Just then Mr. Small appeared from the forest, which surprised Mr. Funny because he didn't even realize he'd gone. He was hopping on three paws, and at first Mr. Funny thought he had been hurt. Then he saw that he was carrying cobwebs which he pressed into the injured cat's leg wound. Mr. Bump watched with round eyes, and Mr. Tickle moved forward.
"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding curious.
"Pressing cobwebs into her cut to stop the bleeding," the small cat answered. His eyes darkened as the cobwebs turned red with the cat's blood and it was still bleeding. He turned to Mr. Tickle and gestured with his tail to a log a few tail-lengths into the forest. "There's a bunch of cobwebs in there," he said. "Get them. And make sure none of them have a spider on them!" he called as the smokey-gray tom nodded and went to do as he was told.
"We can't stay here," Mr. Nosy meowed. "Can she travel?" he asked Mr. Small, who stared down at the unconscious cat.
"I'm not sure," he said. "I need to treat her injury, but what herbs do I use? I can only remember cobwebs to stop bleeding, but what if her wound gets infected?" He turned wide, scared eyes on his best friend, who placed his tail on his shoulder.
"You'll remember what herbs will work best," he assured him.
Unease wormed in Mr. Funny's heart. He looked up. StarClan? he began awkwardly, searching the sky that was starting to get dark with rain clouds. He half hoped to spot a friendly cat face staring down at him. If you're listening, please save this cat, and help Mr. Small to remember the herbs because I don't want to be the one to have that much responsibility! I'm a clown, not a medicine cat! He felt uneasy. He wanted to be a warrior, not care for the sick. He hoped Mr. Small would remember the herbs he needs and soon.
Mr. Nosy directed Mr. Bump and Mr. Tickle to carry the injured cat back to camp. While they carefully supported the she-cat between them, Mr. Funny noticed Mr. Lazy and Little Miss Chatterbox muttering to each other.
"Who are they?" Mr. Lazy asked with a glance at the dark cream tom and his friends.
"Yeah," Little Miss Chatterbox whispered. "They feel a little familiar, but I'm not sure why. I don't recognize them at all."
The slick ginger tabby who spoke up before stepped forward. "Good afternoon," he meowed.
Mr. Fussy glared at him. "Why are you here?" he demanded, his tail flicking side to side.
The ginger cat didn't seem bothered by Mr. Fussy's hostility. "My friends and I were hoping you could help us," he explained.
"Help you with what?" asked Mr. Lazy, titling his head curiously.
"Well, you see, we're not–" the ginger tom began, but he was interrupted by a call from one of his friends.
Mr. Funny noticed a gray tom beckoning to the ginger cat.
"Gotta go," the ginger cat meowed and then he went to stand beside his friends again. Mr. Funny heard the gray tom whisper," I'm worried these cats could be trouble."
"They seem nice," the ginger tom said calmly.
The other cat said nothing, just shook his head as his eyes betrayed his concern.
Mr. Nosy stepped forward and eyed the group of cats. "Who are you?" he asked.
It was a few heartbeats before the dark cream tom replied. "I'm called Mr. Clever," he finally answered. Mr. Funny widened his eyes in shock. He exchanged a glance with Little Miss Chatterbox, seeing his own amazement reflected in her eyes.
"I'm sorry… Did you say Mr. Clever?" Mr. Nosy asked, his voice hinting at his disbelief.
"Yes, I did," the cream tom meowed with a curt nod as if he wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell them his name after all.
He doesn't realize he knows us! Mr. Funny thought, remembering many years ago when he lived in Misterland. He knew there was something familiar about this cat. He doesn't know it's us, because we're cats now, too.
"You may not recognize us or even remember us, but most of us used to live in Misterland many years ago," Mr. Nosy told him. "We were living in a town called Dillydale until we became cats. Now we're trying to make our home here until we can get back home."
Mr. Clever stared at him with wide eyes.
The last cat, a golden brown tabby tom, pushed through the others until he was in front of Mr. Nosy. "You're crazy!" he growled, glaring at him.
Mr. Nosy looked thoughtful for a moment before saying," It's been a long time since I heard that voice." He flicked his tail. "Tell me, Mr. Grumble, if what I said wasn't true, how did you become a cat?"
The golden tabby's eyes widened. "How–How do you know my name?"
"I told you, I used to live in Misterland before I moved to Dillydale," Mr. Nosy replied.
Mr. Clever shouldered Mr. Grumble away. "Alright then, what's your name?" he asked the black tom.
"Mr. Nosy," he answered.
Mr. Clever nodded. "Of course I remember you. What happened to us?" he asked as he glanced around at everyone.
Mr. Funny pricked his ears. Will he tell them the truth, like he told everyone else? His friends were understandably angry and upset, so will he risk even more anger? He noticed Mr. Small looking worried, but he didn't say anything. The cats from Dillydale were looking slightly annoyed like they were remembering the confession the friends had made. Mr. Tickle and Mr. Bump, who had laid the injured cat down while Mr. Nosy had been talking to Mr. Clever, exchanged an uneasy look.
Mr. Nosy's tail dropped and his eyes darkened. "That might have been my fault," he admitted, and he launched into the story of him and Mr. Small asking Little Miss Magic to zap them all the Warriors books, but her spell went wrong and now all of them were cats. "But I didn't realized the spell had turned every Mr. Men and Little Misses into cats," he finished, hanging his head in shame.
"So it was you who turned us into cats?" Mr. Grumble stormed over to Mr. Nosy, only stopping when they were nose to nose. "You idiot! This is all your fault!"
"I know." Mr. Nosy looked really upset, and he didn't meet Mr. Grumble's eyes or try to defend himself against the accusation.
Mr. Small stepped forward. "It's not his fault," he insisted. "It was an honest mistake, and we can't go around blaming every cat. We need to find a way to survive here until we can get back to our homes."
"He's right," Mr. Clever meowed. "Mr. Grumble, calm down," he meowed, flicking the golden brown tabby on the ears with his tail. "What's done is done. We can't change the past." He turned to Mr. Nosy and told him," I've read a book or two of Warriors but it didn't interest me so I didn't read anymore. Now I'm wishing I had read more of them," he added with a sigh.
"That's alright," Mr. Nosy assured him. "Mr. Small and I have read the whole first series, and have done a little research on Clan life."
The gray tom stepped forward, and Mr. Funny saw a spark of worry in his eyes. "So you're saying out of every cat in the whole forest, you two are the only ones who's read these books?"
Mr. Nosy shifted his paws. "Nobody else have came forward and said they've read the books," he meowed, and once again Mr. Funny felt a rush of guilt. Should he confess he's not only read all the books, but also researched every thing about Clan life, including herbs. He glanced at the injured cat, worried for her. What if she dies because he didn't want the responsibility of saving a life?
He sighed and turned away, again praying to StarClan to give Mr. Small a dream or something and tell him what herb to use.
"We need to get this cat back to camp," Mr. Small told his best friend, worried in his eyes.
Mr. Nosy nodded and turned to Mr. Clever. "Come back with us," he said to the small group of cats. "We can talk more later."
"Alright," Mr. Clever agreed as he dipped his head, but Mr. Grumble glared at him, though he didn't object.
Mr. Tickle and Mr. Bump picked up the injured cat again and began to slowly make their way back to camp. Mr. Nosy flicked his tail for everyone to follow him. Mr. Funny noticed the look Mr. Lazy gave Little Miss Chatterbox, sadness and nervousness. He clearly had been expecting to go live the life of a kittypet, but now he had to go back to the camp.
Little Miss Chatterbox laid her tail on his shoulder and murmured something in his ear. He sighed and followed her.
Mr. Fussy was looking annoyed, but he too followed his friends.
Falling behind the black tom with a neat pelt, Mr. Funny looked over his shoulder to make sure Mr. Clever and the others were following. He was glad to see that they were.
This is going to be interesting, he thought, wondering what everyone else would say about even more of their friends turned into cats.
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