3. The Orna-Massacre
CHAPTER THREE
THE ORNA-MASSACRE
HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, PRINCE GREMLIN BARTHOLOMEW DUNN THE AMAZING, FIRST OF HIS NAME
M om, my second favorite human—don’t tell her, but Joey was number one now—had been bustling around all day, filling the place with shiny things I wasn’t allowed to touch. Which was rude, in my opinion.
Humans were ridiculous creatures. They thought they ran the show, but any cat worth his whiskers knew the truth. We were the rulers of this world, and humans existed to serve us.
I sneezed for the millionth time from that offensive smell coming from the fire jar Mom seemed to love. I was not allowed to touch that either. Something about “singeing my fur.”
Then there was the incessant yowling from the noise box on the food platform, which, again, I wasn’t allowed on.
She called it all “Christmas spirit.” I called it chaos.
And chaos was my specialty. But knowing how much this time of year meant to Mom, I let her have it.
I watched as she bounced all around, trying to make everything perfect. But as the hours dragged on, her cheer dimmed. I couldn’t understand how she could be so upset while I, the most perfect being ever, was in her presence. I guessed it was the same thing that always upset her.
Sebastian.
Humans were so predictable.
Mom called him my “Dad” but I would never claim him as such until he proved himself worthy.
I would be lying if I said their drama wasn’t my favorite soap opera to watch. But even I was getting tired of their nonsense. They needed to get their act together already.
It was obvious they were soulmates—with my permission, of course. But no, instead, they argued. Sebastian was trying, I’d give him that, but it was half-hearted at best. It wasn’t entirely his fault that he was an idiot. That was how his brain was wired.
When Mom stomped off, I almost followed her. Almost. But then I saw Sebastian sulking like the sad sack he was.
Humans. So clueless.
They didn’t even realize they needed me to fix everything.
Being the only one with any sense in this household was exhausting. Joey, the small one, showed promise, but she was still just a kitten. If I had my way—and I always did—she’d grow up to be just like me.
I’d barely batted an eye—or an ornament—and Sebastian was already groveling. Oh, woe is Sebastian, the great destroyer of holiday cheer.
Like his life was so hard when I had my own paws full trying to keep this family in line. This man needed a wake-up call. And I was just the cat to give it to him.
“Mrow,” I chirped, letting Sebastian know I was judging him. He turned to me, guilt all over his stupid face.
“Hey, buddy.”
Buddy? Please. I am not your emotional support cat. I cocked my head, giving him my best “Do better, idiot” look. He didn’t deserve my help—especially after telling Mom to keep me off the food platforms—but Mom and Joey did.
“You’re mad at me too, huh?” he asked, because apparently, stating the obvious was a skill he’s mastered. I ignored him. A king like me doesn’t waste words on peasants. Instead, I hopped off the couch and sauntered over to the coffee table. My eyes locked on the ornament box. Specifically, her ornament.
Joey’s first Christmas.
Mom had been gushing over it when she pulled it out earlier, holding it up to show me. I’d been watching. I always watch. I know how much this holiday means to Mom, and I know how much she’s been trying to share it with Mr. Dense.
But lucky for him, he had me to help.
Being the intelligent, perfect specimen I was, I had a whole plan in a matter of seconds.
Mom and Sebastian needed this. Joey, too. If I had to play the hero to make sure it happened, well, so be it. And if I got a few extra treats out of it? Well, that was just the price of being the smartest one in the house.
I looked at the poor, lopsided excuse for a tree. Honestly, I’d seen better balance from Joey when she first pulled herself up. To be fair, it had been a formidable foe over the years, but in the end I won. I won. Did Sebastian think it was going to decorate itself? I guess the magic didn’t happen unless I was involved. Like always.
With a sigh, I jumped on the launching pad loud enough that it caught Sebastian’s attention. I was going to only go for the special ornament, but I just couldn’t help myself, showcasing my amazing skills. While Sebastian was distracted trying to catch them all, I leaned in, snagged the ornament delicately between my teeth.
“Rem, come on,” Sebastian groaned. “Your mom will be more pissed if you break any of these.”
Break it? Please. I’m not a savage. I’m a genius.
I bolted for the tree. He stumbled after me, cursing under his breath as I disappeared into the branches. The tree wobbled precariously as I climbed into the middle, finding the perfect spot to hang out. I peeked out through the branches, the ornament still dangling from my mouth, and watched as he caught the tree to steady it.
“Gremlin, are you trying to get me killed?!” he muttered.
Duh.
I waited until he was close enough, then pawed at his arm. He paused, staring at me like I’d grown a second tail. Slowly, he reached out his hand. If I hadn’t been trying to enact this perfect plan, I would have gloated at the caution he gave me. He knew when he was in the presence of an awe-inspiring god. I dropped the ornament into his palm.
After his pathetic thanks, he stared at the little ornament for a long moment. I could see the gears turning in that thick skull of his. Finally.
When his eyes softened, I knew I’d done it. He got the idea.
“You’re welcome,” I thought, jumping down. He steadied the tree before heading to the office. He came back with string I was tempted to attack and secured the tree to the wall. He started hanging ornaments, taking my brilliant suggestion and running with it. About time he did something useful.
Sebastian was actually trying, all because I, the mastermind, had shown him the way. I settled under the tree, flicking my tail smugly before flopping on my back. It wasn’t perfect yet—nothing ever is with humans—but it was a start.
Out of the corner of my eye, the small plant on the launching pad mocked me. Another sworn enemy of mine. I stretched, jumped up, and swiped it onto the floor.
“Don’t start,” Sebastian muttered, catching sight of me.
I feigned innocence.
Start? Oh, my dear naive enemy, I never stop.