by Penny Blake

Elevenses: Cats for tea

Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen, you find us ravenously eleven o’ clockish this morning, which is grand because the time is, indeed, 11’o clock. So, step inside, take off your Top Hat Of Imposing Mental Prowess, hang up your Pugnacious Parasol and make yourselves at home  in  Max and Collin’s voraciously verve and quintessentially quixotic  parlour, located in the splendidly scenic city of Lancaster, Mor Ire.

True, perhaps, some people have called it a mange-ridden menagerie crawling with cretinous creatures of condensed conscience, but we consider that such people are merely embittered that they have not yet received an invitation.

Today you find us spitting fur balls as we try to relieve ourselves of our unwanted feline guests. We have stopped feeding them, we have stopped naming them, we have barred the door and we have banned them from the choicest cushions but still they keep on coming! There are cats on the balcony and cats on the stairs, cats on the table and even in the teapot.

Maybe that is because we are enjoying Witch Of The Woods from The Malfoy Tea Emporium? Those witches are all about the cats aren’t they eh? Perhaps this is Mrs Baker’s doing? Perhaps she is sending us cat after cat in some cruel and unusual attempt to make us mend our ways? Hm. What do you think Max? ….Max?…

Oh goodness no stop eating them I’m sure that is not the solution!!

Ah, not to worry, those are not real cats that my Very Quiet Gentleman Friend is devouring but these delicious black cat cookies from Gesmack which our smugly sadistic werewolf butler has inflicted upon us no doubt in some diabolic attempt at dark humour.

black cat cookies.jpg

Still they are delightfully delicious and so she is completely forgiven – never wise to hold a grudge against a woman with teeth like that. So, we have our tea, we have our fancies, all that we require now is some splendid sounds to usher in the afternoon…

 

 

Marvellous, and of course Max and myself will be ‘suiting up’ in our own fashion on Thursday and looking for the most prestigiously punked-up places to spend the weekend. Meanwhile our catastrophic witch, Mrs Baker, will be interviewing Kylie Dexter tomorrow in her soup kitchen and Peril will be back on Friday with some Wonderously Witty Fiction…or so he claims…hopefully it isn’t his resume…

so, until we meet again please be always,

Utterly Yourself

 

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