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Friday, April 25, 2003   |    Fiction

Pen Pals

by Ray Stillman

Dear Orko,

Gosh, it’s sure been a wild week here at Cat’s Lair! The boys got all liquored up last night at a party with the Walrusfolk. Panthro went out joyriding and ran over a couple of Berbils. I’ve been scraping mud and fur off the Thundertank’s grille for three days! Those little bears sure do stink! I wish I had some of your awesome magic to help me with my chores! Golly gee!

Snarf snarf.

Yours,
Snarf

P.S. You still haven’t R.S.V.P.ed to my picnic party! I’m making my famous crumpets!



Dear Orko,

As you know, whenever the ’Cats are out thwarting ancient spirits of evil, I stay home to prepare dinner for their return. Those boys need their energy! I’m proud to feed them healthy, hearty, home-cooked meals that are both nutritious and delicious! It’s hard to make do with the strange flora and fauna here on Third Earth, but I try to please my masters’ finicky tastes. They love my soufflé!

Well, this afternoon while the Thundercats were out roughing up those no-good mutants, Wilykat pulled a little prank on me. He slipped some berries he found in the forest into my stew. The ‘Cats were up all night having crazy daydreams! Cheetara imagined that her clothes were bacon and she made Panthro play a game where he had to eat them off her! When Lion-O saw them, he went nuts! He put his fist through a window! Then he cried. I had to put him to bed. And Tygra made an awful mess! In the bathroom and in the garage! (Don’t even ask what he did to Lion-O’s glove.) Oh, that rascally Wilykat! Well, boys will be boys!

Don’t forget, my picnic is this week! Don’t worry—I’ve made a fresh batch of berry-free stew! Ha, ha! Snarf.

Yours,
Snarf



Dear Orko,

I’m sorry you missed the picnic party. A great time was had by all! Well, that is, until Mumm-Ra rose from the punch bowl and ruined everything. There were broken dishes everywhere! My crumpets got stepped on before anyone could try them! And now I’ll be cleaning this place for weeks! Snarf, snarf! Boy, I’d do anything to have powerful magic like you! I bet you could clean up the whole Lair in the blink of an eye! Snarf!

Well, do not worry about the picnic. I’m sure you were busy saving Eternia yet again. But you are in luck because I’ll be having a wine-and-cheese party next month … if I can ever get this place cleaned up again! Ha, ha. Okay, I’ve got to go wash Tygra’s bedsheets.

Take care!

Yours,
Snarf.



Snarf–

Look, pal: Truth is, I’m a crap magician. None of my tricks ever work. I was being chased by Stinkor and I tried to transport myself someplace safe and instead I wound up on your freak-hole planet. It was an accident, understand? I screwed up royally. A tragic magical misstep. If I could do only one single trick correctly, I’d turn your whole festering planet into chop meat for Battle Cat. I live in a semi-medieval land protected by a dumb barbarian and a flippy bird-lady, and even I am repulsed by you filthy animals.

And what kind of nanny are you? The Cats’ Lair smells like a petting zoo, for God’s sake. There’s cat shit and furballs all over the place. I still can’t get the stench out of my hat or scarf. If I had legs I’d kick your fuzzy ass, you little pansy. Now stop writing to me.

Piss off,
O.



Dear Orko,

Ha-ha! I know I’ve told you this before, but in addition to being the greatest magician I’ve ever seen, you’re also the absolute funniest court jester! Snarf, snarf! You really sounded so mean and pissy! I read your letter to the guys and they all laughed. Tygra wet himself! More laundry for me!

Keep in touch!

Yours,
Snarf

P.S. Wine and cheese party is next Thursday at four. See you there!

P.P.S. You said you liked Brie, right?

Ray Stillman once killed a man with his bare hands, although he is not one to brag about such things. He is an aspiring screenwriter, an inspiring poet, and a perspiring photographer. Mr. Stillman is an ex-New Yorker who now lives in scenic, sunny, star-saturated Los Angeles, in an apartment building between a bowling alley and a tatoo parlor. He often finds it difficult to resist the urge to ink "Gutter balls" across the knuckles of his left hand. He has made sweet, sweet love with supermodel Heidi Klum many, many times but, again, is not one to brag.