“Pizza Pantry stopped delivering 22 minutes ago…it’s 1:22 a.n.” said Fred.
I looked over at the black shape…okay…Fred…and it hit me…well, maybe not dead. That was good and great…but maybe…nuts? Maybe I’ve slipped a cog.
“You are perfectly sane, Tobey. Don’t concern yourself with that nonsense. If YOU had just not rolled over again…none of this would be happening.”
“So…what you are saying is…that this is ALL MY FAULT?” I said indignantly and I sat up straighter and fluffed my hair in the mirror on the wall at the end of my bed.
(I feel it’s important to see just what you look like first thing in the morning. I know. I know.)
“Yes. Of course it’s your fault.” Fred said, “it certainly isn’t MY fault. I’ve been at this job for thousands of years…I don’t make mistakes.”
“I am, as the young folks say…a GOAT.” Fred said proudly. (Yes. he actually said “young folks.”)
“Fine. Whatever. I am just a mere mortal. You are the great angel from on high.” I said sarcastically and rolled my eyes.
“Did you actually think that I could not see that?” said Fred. “And, I don’t appreciate your sarcasm…honestly.”
Suddenly, Emma sat up and held up her one white paw and pointed it at Fred first and then at me.
“Hold it…” she said, again using that strange Jennifer Lawrence voice.
“Stop bickering. It is what it is. Deal. I need my sleep.”
As she spoke, I brushed my hand against my lips, just to make sure…nope…no movement. Emma was talking again.