Get Out
Lettie and Fagiolo decide to go diving in the uptown area... but they're not the only one's out and about.
"What's trash like you two doing away from the dump, huh?"
Those sickly sweet sounding words were like snake venom to Lettie's chest, and the tom could see the venom easily hit it's mark. Fagiolo was more than used to this kind of scorn, but this was Lettie's forth time visiting Snob Hill, as they affectionately called it, and this was the second time they had been caught. Both times by a stubby yellow she-cat... Who seemed to have too much time on her paws if Fagiolo had to say anything about it. A part of him wanted to outright comment on that, but he knew better He knew better than to just toss an angry remark.
"Speak for yourself, darling. Don't you have beauty sleep you should be catching up on?" Came a soft hiss in response, but a smirk played on Ollie's maw as a spark danced in his eye. The sight appeared to make their company, Miss Sunshine, irritable.
"Sleep I was so rudely awakened from by the sounds of dirty little paws."
"Awe, poor baby." Ollie sneered. "Why don't you get a drink out of your gold-plated, diamond-studded milk bowl? That will make you feel better."
His response seemed to anger the shorter she-cat and he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of her fur bristling.
"Did I strike a nerve? So sorry~" A lash of his tail and the click of his heels were the only signs that he had turned in the night's deep darkness. Thankfully, though, he heard the click of Lettie's claws on the concrete. Good, she got the idea. Time to leave before this snob got another word in edge-whys.
"Well, we'll let you have at it, then. Take a couple sips for us poor folks, yeah? After all, cat's like us only get milk that disgusting once in a blue moon. Come on, Lettie, let's leave the snob to her artificial life."
He picked up his paws and ran off into the dimly lit streets, running silently into the night and, ultimately, into the hedge bush across the street. Lettie had followed him, for the sounds of rustling brush signaled as much. Well... time to find another spot to dig in. This side of town was occupied by a biddy who's head was bigger than a watermelon.