MethosMuse (aka MacNair)

"WHAT?! So, THAT'S what's been happening to my longnecks! l-a-h-o-f-f-y ... GET your varments out of the house!"

lahoffy's varmits (aka lahoffy)

"Mew-hic!"

"Darn that hayden! *hic* She ratted on us!"

"There's a rat? Where?"

"Oh, be quiet and hand me another one *hic* of those before *hic* the big-nosed one gets back. *hic*"

MethosMuse

"What I want to know is...how in hades do the little varments get the flipping bottle open?"

Connor, hidden completely behind the paper, which jiggled suspiciously--like he was silently *laughing* behind it, waited a long moment before speaking. "You should go hide and watch. Maybe you'll find out."

"HIDE?" demanded the ROG, incredulously.

Connor peered over the top of the paper and his eyes were watery. "That fluffy one is on the last few sips. He'll likely score another bottle, but not if you're standing right there!"

"And just what makes you so sure that fluffy one will get another bottle?" Methos gave the Highlander one of his trademark flinty-eyed looks.

"He's the one with the beer belly. Can't you tell?"

The Cat Crew

"I'm out, grab me another one, will you?"

"I can't, the one with the big nose is hiding over there behind the curtains, watching."

"Oh for meowing out loud, distract him. Do something cute. Humans are suckers for cute."

(said disgustedly) "Cute? I don't do cute. That's beneath me."

"Yeah, right, then what was that deal with the party streamers the other night?"

"Too much catnip."

MethosMuse

"Ouch! What the----!"

Connor ducked back behind his paper, but NOTHING could disguise the fact that he was laughing hysterically.

"Not my toes! NOT MY TOES, you mangy furball-chucking cat!"

"What in heck is going on in here?" demanded Duncan. He had come on the run upon hearing Methos' loud yell. With one glance he took in his clansman writhing in his chair, having a fit of hysterics. Empty beer bottles were strewn around on the floor and couch.

"That stupid cat attacked my TOES!" bellowed the ROG.

Duncan looked perplexed. "Well, why shouldn't she when nothing but your toes are peeking out from under the curtains? What are you doing hiding in there?"

"I'm trying to figure out how the cats get the beer bottles open!" yelled back the curtain.

Duncan looked at Connor. Connor looked owl-eyed right back at him. Duncan looked at all the bottles in the room. There must be half-a-case out here!

"Methos? Have you been drinking too much?" sweetly inquired Duncan.

"NO!" roared the curtains. "That's the whole blimey problem, you nit! The CATS are drinking my brew!"

Duncan nodded his head as if to say, 'yeah ... right ... and I'm a fig god.'

Connor resumed his hysteria behind the paper.

(lahoffy, when you assimilate back into your regular form from your ooze form because of Methos' toes--you're up. *G*)

The cat crew

"That didn't work. Now he's madder than ever."

"Well, whose brilliant idea was it to attack his toes? That never works."

"I told you I don't do cute!"

"Observe and record."

Tiny moans rose up at the bad pun, as the "fearless leader" sauntered over towards the curtains.

Methos stared down at the fur-covered bundle of fat at his feet.

"What the bloody hell..? Mac? What's it doing?"

Duncan looked over and did a double take. Connor peered out from his newspaper and quickly ducked behind it again.

"Uh...I believe it's trying to be cute."

The cat rolled playfully onto its back, batting gently at the bare toes. Her eyes were wide and sparkly and she purred quietly.

"It's not working," Methos sniped, wagging a finger at the cat. "I know what you're up to, little missy. NO more beer."

The sound of a beer top pinging across the room drew the eyes of the immortals back to the herd of cats. A fresh beer sat opened amid the furry heap.

The leader stood, stretched lazily and sauntered back across the room. "See? Works every time."

MacNairCDC

The couch full of cats failed to factor Connor into the equation � something they ordinarily did that went by the wayside in their thinking most likely because of the amount of beer they had already consumed! Connor usually knew where they hid, knew when they were busily batting the toilet paper roll empty in the bathroom, knew to look in the trashcan before actually dumping the trashcan, and always had his bare feet yanked up into his chair whenever the whole lot of them *rumbled* into the library precisely FOR a good meal of toes! (They got Richie an extraordinary amount of times.)

�Something quite � *mew-w-w* � cattish, about that human,� the leader often reminded them.

�The red-head thinks like a dog,� mewed the smokey grey. �Lots of noise, but no sense.�

�And eats a lot.�

Connor wasn�t watching the cat doing �cute� longer than the time it took for that first glance � he looked at his paper and let his peripheral vision take in the area around the door. Sure enough, there was a ripple effect that crossed the wall and made the paint swim. It headed directly to the couch, the bottle top popped and then the beer materialized!

A-ha! k'lynn is involved with this he thought. But how does she *know* to get the beers and how does she get them out of the garage?

~ finis ~
This mayhem brought to you by lahoffy and MacNair
Nov 8, 2002

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