Hello, I'm sorry, life decided that I needed to have everything attack all at once. The past month has been the busiest I've been in a while, and I don't think I realized just how busy. I hope this makes up for it at the very least. There will be a (semi) steady stream of stories into this collection since there's a lot on backlog, but I'm also going to try and post a new thing over on AO3 once a month, and hopefully here as well. If you want to keep track there, it's Michael_Johnson; several more stories than on here, including my song-fics.
This is one of my better comedic attempts, I think. I do hope you enjoy, and like I said last time. If you get inspired or want to do a continuation on anything I write, all I ask is that you send your readers my way when they finish reading yours. I love to hear how to improve, and I want to see more writers. As always, have a good day!
The technical name for this one is 'Hire Him Immediately; then Keep Him Away from Me,' but that doesn't fit into the titles here.
Macavity was irritated. Well, that's not really quite the correct word. Mildly disgruntled, perhaps. Maybe slightly frustrated. Or simply annoyed, but I digress. The point is that he was not thrilled with how his current affairs had been playing out, leaving him in an irate-mildly-disgruntled-slightly-frustrated-annoyed sort of mood. And his few minions were baring the brunt of the outcome.
For several days he'd been looking for a replacement spy, the last one had been caught out by not knowing the basics of cat birth ('damn the Jellicles and their miserable reminder of it each Ball.'). This was not an easy feat, mind you, for the cat had to both be clever enough to not be caught, and stupid enough to be working for Macavity. As can be inferred, the percentage of cats in London who correctly fit into both categories is not exactly the largest pool out there.
This led to many days where the most progress Macavity made on this issue was batting one of his more stupid minions for suggesting that said minion become the spy. That is to say, that he often made no real progress. It was coming on day four of no spy, and thus five days of not knowing what the damn Jellicles were doing in their damn junk-yard. That was, frankly, six damn days too many.
It was on a patrol in search of a spy where all of this changed- specifically, a large metallic clang sounding from an alley that simply begged for investigation. So Macavity and his second ducked into the narrow lane, scanning for the cause of said noise.
Said cause was on the other end of the alley, perched atop a fence with a knocked over rubbish bin below and a piece of what appeared to be several day old fish clasped in his paw. The strange calico cat waved at the two, smirking like he was the Cat's gift to the Earth.
"Top o' tha mornin' ta ya, Govena!" And with that, he ducked away behind the fence, taking with him the fish, the smirk, and that awful, grating voice and accent. A light went through Macavity's head.
"He's perfect." He told his second, not even bothering to look in his direction. "Hire him immediately. And then keep him away from me."
"So, ya're tha cat who wants me werk?"
'Great, Everlasting Cat I will never get used to that voice.' I feel it is important that the reader notes that Macavity very rarely spoke or thought of the Everlasting Cat. Take from this and decide what you will about his opinions of the voice.
Of course, Macavity was not stupid, and did not say such thoughts aloud. "Yes, I am. A pleasure to meet you…?"
"Mungojerrie, govena." He bowed, obviously mocking Macavity and the heightened desk he had perched himself on. He couldn't help it that the desk was the most comfortable place in his hideout. And if it made him taller than the minions below him, well that was just a bonus.
"Right." He drawled through gritted teeth. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Mungojerrie. I have a peculiar issue that I suspect you might be able to solve."
"Oh really?" The calico smirked slightly, as if he were amused at the thought. Of course, he'd heard of Macavity. There wasn't a cat in London who hadn't, and the idea that he needed help from a no-name street cat was amusing.
"Yes, you see six days ago I lost a spy to a group of cats on the West end of London. I need someone with skill," Macavity leapt down to the ground and padded up to Jerrie, a subtle way of showing they were equal. They weren't, of course, but it made potentially useful idiots feel proud of themselves. "Tact. Someone who can infiltrate and swoon them out of suspicion. And I think you are that cat."
"Hmmm." Jerrie hummed an acknowledgement, scratching at his chin like it had a flea. 'I see. He wants the compensation up front. Fine.'
"I'll make it worth your while, Jerrie." He strode back to the desk, pulling the carpet up to reveal a small hole in the floorboards beneath and a small collection of jewels and gold. "I'm told you're a rather accomplished thief. This is my personal stash." It wasn't. It was all show. His personal stash was in the other hole in the floorboards under the carpet. Where no one would think to look, of course.
Jerrie's eyes gleamed as he stared at the treasure, all but drooling. Macavity smirked, he'd found the bait. "I'll let you have a piece of this for every bit of information you bring, and one as forward pay. Does that sound agreeable, Jerrie?"
"Quoite! Oi've got one condition, though." 'Condition? What?' "Ya see, Oi'm no' tha only skilled thief ya'll be gettin'. Oi've got a pahtner tha' must be apaht o' this iffin Oi'm ta werk fer ya."
Macavity smirked. 'Two spies for the price of one? I've never heard a better deal in my life.' "You have yourself a deal, Jerrie. When can I meet your partner?"
"Roigh' 'ere, boss!" Colour drained from Macavity's face when he heard her voice, so similar to Jerrie's. As annoyingly cockney as he'd ever heard. He turned and saw what appeared to be a queen-clone of Jerrie, almost right down to the stripe pattern, sat at his window sill. But she was thinner, more lithe than her counterpart, and had a much higher, far more annoying, terribly frustrating, deeply unsettling, irritating voice.
She jumped down, landing without a sound and rolling to beside Jerrie. "We're a package deal." She said, smirking and leaning on her friend.
There were only two times in Macavity's life that he thought he had made a grave error. And they went by the names Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer.