Percy felt unwanted. He was a sensitive boy, so when his mother and grandmother were engaged in an arm wrestle - where the loser of the match was punished by having to look after him - he couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt.

‘I’m sorry, but he is just too naughty!’ his grandma groaned, struggling to fight her daughter’s strength.

‘Well, you agreed to keep him!’ Mrs Pumpernickel roared, slamming her mother’s hand down on the table.

Percy’s grandmother looked hurt. ‘But you don’t understand!’ she cried. ‘He is really naughty! It’s even tattooed on his neck! Look!’

She took hold of Percy, and folded down the back of Percy’s collar. On it read the word naughty.

‘Mr Winterbottom put that there,’ Percy explained to his horrified mother.

‘And also,’ his grandmother continued, ‘he has been expelled! Only one day after he came to live here, he was expelled!’

‘He’s your responsibility now! I’ve put up with him for fourteen years!’

‘Well, he is your son! I have my cats to care for!’

‘Well, I won the arm wrestling match, fair and square!’

Percy had just come from church that morning. Grandma, although not religious, had taken her cat to be baptised. She was reading a handbook the night before called "Cats for Grannies", and forgetting to put on her glasses, had misread the line: "Long haired cats require constant grooming" to be saying: "Make sure that every five cats you own is a baptised, confirmed Roman Catholic". And so, Mittens Five appeared in front of the whole congregation that morning, as his grandma answered the vows read out to her by the priest. He had been a priest for forty-eight years, and this was only the second time he had baptised an animal. The other time was purely accidental, with the cheeky altar boy bringing his pet goldfish along in an easy-to-carry bag of water and dropping it into the baptismal font.

The cat rubbed its head against Percy’s foot, purring. He smiled and stroked around its neck. At least someone liked him.

‘Percy!’ snapped his mother. ‘You are going to live with your grandma, you’re going to find a new school, and you are not coming back, you hear? I don’t want to see you again!’

‘But mum,’ Percy cried, ‘I honestly never meant for any trouble! I have this teacher at school, Mr Winterbottom, who hates me! He expelled me because he claims I was wearing a Windsor knot on my tie! I wasn’t, but even if I was, who cares?’

‘I’ll tell you who cares,’ she said scathingly. ‘Grandma! She has to pay for your new school, out of her pension!’

‘What?’ Grandma blurted out. ‘Me?’

‘Mum!’ Percy whined. ‘I want to stay here! I haven’t done anything wrong! Honestly! You have to believe me!’

Before Percy’s mother could attempt to rethink her decision, there was a knock at the door. It was a policeman.

‘Hello Mrs Pumpernickel,’ he said. ‘There has been a fire at Boy College, and your son, Percy, is responsible.’

As Percy left in the back of the police car, his mother groaned. ‘You have to notify the police about the change of his address. When the police come next time, it’ll be at your house.’

Grandma picked up her cat with a huff and left.

It was dark and cold in the school dungeon. Percy was handcuffed to the stone wall, with cold drops of water falling on his head every fifteen, or sixteen seconds. He wasn’t quite sure, it was hard to concentrate with the school captain jabbing him with the school flag in between every drip of water.

Hagar had been elected school captain purely on the basis of his physical strength. He sported a seven pack of muscles, the seventh pack due to some defect at birth. He also had an eye-patch on his left eye, after it was scarred in battle. There was a poodle next to Boy College that used to bark consistently. Hagar had become angry, jumping over the fence and taking it in a headlock. The poodle had bucked its head, so that the buckle on its collar hit Hagar’s left eye.

‘Oo! Oo!’ snorted Hagar, and jabbed Percy again. He had skipped so many English classes over the years that he was now unable to speak the language. Or indeed, any language beyond a series of ape-like grunts.

‘Come on! Off him, Hagar!’ came a voice the doorway. School principal Fr Cubicle stood there, his bald head failing any attempt to shine due to the lack of lighting. ‘We’re not allowed to use this dungeon to imprison students anymore, remember? Not until they’re found guilty, anyway,’ he sighed.

‘Oo? Agh!’ Hagar grunted back, throwing his flag to the ground and jumping up and down on the floor in hysterics.

‘So, you must be Percy,’ sneered Fr Cubicle. ‘Did you really think you could set fire to Mr Winterbottom’s office without being caught?’

‘I didn’t set fire to Mr Winterbottom’s office, I swear!’ Percy replied, as a drop of blood fell from his nose and onto the stone floor.

‘All I know, Percy is, that he saw you. He saw you pour the kerosene, he saw you light the match, and he saw you run away.’

‘He’s lying!’

‘I wouldn’t deny it, Percy. He and his cat have burns right across their bodies!’ He released him from the handcuffs. ‘Unfortunately, the law doesn’t allow us to imprison you yet. But tomorrow, we shall find out the truth! And you are going to be in here for a long, long time!’ he cackled as only a Principal of a Catholic Boys School can.

As Hagar dragged Percy up the cold stone steps by the feet, and threw him out into the school car park, Percy knew one thing for sure. His head hurt.

‘I don’t believe Mr Winterbottom!’ Percy fumed as he stepped into his grandmother’s house. ‘He expelled me, and he’s still not happy! He wants to have me gaoled!’

He paused and looked across the room. His grandmother seemed to be on the ground, kissing one of her cats.

‘Grandma…what are you doing?’ Percy giggled. ‘I knew you liked your cats, but…’

‘Shut your stupid bloody mouth Percy!’ she screamed, tears rushing out of her eyes. ‘My cats are unconscious!’

His grandma wasn’t kissing the cat. She was giving it mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and behind her lay twenty-two wet cats. They were dead still. Not even their tails moved.

‘It’s hopeless,’ Grandma cried, taking her lips away from the cat’s mouth and pushing it aside. ‘They’re all going to die!’

‘What happened?’

‘Well, I left them in the wash, you know, when we went to church with Mittens Five. I came home…they were clean, but they weren’t moving,’ she snivelled.

‘Why would you do that?’ Percy asked. ‘Cats don’t need to be washed! They lick themselves clean!’

‘Oh, so if you licked yourself everyday, you reckon you’d be clean?’ Grandma snarled. ‘Well, you wouldn’t, Percy! And believe me, I know! I’ve tried!’

Percy gave a slight shudder at that image. ‘So, are the cats…dead?’ he asked.

‘Not yet,’ she cried. ‘But I’ve tried everything! I’ve tried mouth-to-mouth, I’ve tried pulling their tails, I’ve tried blowing in their ears – nothing!’

‘Well, we’d better get these cats to the vet,’ said Percy. ‘Only thing is, how do we get them there?’

‘That’s not a problem, I’ll just use the sleigh in the garage.’

Mittens Five gave a loud meow. She was confused, as you would be, if you were baptised and came home to find all of your brothers and sisters floating in a washing machine. Grandma picked her up and slung her over her neck. ‘Not a word to the RSPCA, you understand?’

Percy nodded.

‘Good. Let’s go, Percy.’

‘I don’t believe that worked,’ Percy commented, sitting in the waiting room with his grandma and her cat. ‘We got them all here with only one sleigh and a few pillow cases!’

‘The doctor has been a while in there,’ she replied. ‘I hope the cats are okay.’

‘Yeah, they were still breathing when we took them in. I think one of them was purring.’

‘That was me,’ Grandma smiled. ‘I was purring.’

‘No, it was the cat. I even felt its stomach, I could feel the vibrations!’

‘It was me, Percy!’ Grandma yelled, suddenly. ‘It was me purring, so shut up!’

‘Percy!’ came a voice from the other side of the waiting room. ‘Did I hear someone call out that name?’

Percy gulped as he saw his teacher, Mr Winterbottom, dropping his newspaper, putting his cat on the floor and marching angrily towards him.

‘Look what you did to my cat, faggot!’ he snarled, pointing across the room. ‘You are going to pay for this, Percy!’

‘I’m sorry if you were hurt, sir, but it wasn’t me, and you know it! Why don’t you leave me alone?’

Mr Winterbottom stared at Percy in rage. He lifted his fist up, then resisted. Percy gave a sigh of relief only two seconds before Mr Winterbottom reconsidered his decision and punched him in the face. ‘Take that, you little piece of shit!’ he roared.

Percy lifted himself off the ground, trembling in fear. His eyebrow was dripping with blood.

‘You can’t just assault me like that!’ Percy moaned, resulting in a jab to the nose, direct from his teacher’s elbow.

‘Ow!’ Percy screamed. ‘Grandma! Help!’

His grandma looked at Mr Winterbottom with a smile. ‘Percy! Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, here?’

‘I’m Percy’s teacher, Mr Winterbottom,’ he smiled, shaking her hand. ‘And you must be his little sister!’

Grandma blushed. ‘Oh, you’re a charmer!’

‘I’m afraid that your older brother, Percy, burned my office down yesterday afternoon.’

‘Yeah, he’ll do that,’ she sighed. ‘By the way, I’m not really his sister! I’m his grandmother.’

‘No!’ he gasped, with a large grin. ‘It’s just that you look so young! With your grey hair and wrinkly skin - you look about…six!’

‘Well, I know,’ she blushed. ‘It must be my new hairstyle.’

‘I think he’s being sarcastic, grandma,’ said Percy.

‘Yeah and I’m also being sarcastic when I do this!’ Mr Winterbottom said in an odd twist when he gave a kick to Percy’s head – he was only lying a metre away from his foot, after all. Percy gave a dog-like whine.

At this point his grandma’s attention had turned to Mr Winterbottom’s large, ginger tomcat.

‘Look at him, Mittens Five!’ grandma gasped. ‘That is one hunk of a cat!’

‘Yep, that’s Tractor!’ Mr Winterbottom grinned. ‘Tractor is a strong little cat. Even after your bastard grandson Percy set fire to him, he’s still going strong! He just needs one of those things put over his neck, so that he doesn’t scratch his sores. You know, that cone thing?’

‘No, I’m afraid I don’t,’, his grandma replied, distracted by a different frame of thought. She had studied biology when she was sixteen and she knew what happened when you cross a male cat with a female cat. You get mini-cats. Which one day grow into bigger cats!

‘Well,’ grandma laughed, ‘my cats should be revived by now. Percy, come in with me. We’ll leave Mittens Five with Mr Winterbottom’s Tractor, so they can get a little closer…if you know what I mean. Come on Percy!’

Mr Winterbottom found the time to dig his heel into Percy’s cheekbone as he got up and followed his grandma inside.

Mittens Five looked at Tractor and hissed. Tractor arched its back and spat. Mr Winterbottom picked up Mittens Five and stroked it.

‘Just between me and you, cat,’ he grinned. ‘You won’t tell anyone this, will you?’

The cat happened to shake its head quickly, like they often do. Mr Winterbottom pulled her closer to him.

‘It was me!’ he giggled. ‘Yes! I set the office alight! And I set Tractor on fire as well! And do you know why?’

Mittens Five, irritated by the breathing of Mr Winterbottom in her ear, shook quickly.

‘Okay, I’ll tell you. Because I hate him! I hate Percy! This is all part of my evil plan to have him destroyed! After tomorrow, he is going to be behind bars! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!’ he cackled. The cat shook again and launched itself off his lap, giving another shake and licking itself.

‘Yes! Percy will be sorry he ever saw the likes of me!’ Mr Winterbottom laughed.

An old man next to him gave him a nudge. ‘I’m sorry, were you talking to me?’ he asked.

‘No, I was talking to the cat.’

‘Oh, right then,’ the old man smiled and put his headphones back on.

‘Hello, welcome! Please, come in!’ Dr Kipper laughed, opening the door. He was a veteran of the veterinarian trade, an old man with a white moustache. ‘You brought in that heap of cats! They were unconscious, weren’t they!’

‘Yes,’ Grandma smiled. ‘Were you able to revive them?’

‘Well, technically, yes,’ Dr Kipper said, nervously moving the front of his shoe on the floor. ‘I was able to revive them.’

‘That’s great,’ she smiled, looking happily at Percy. ‘So where are they?’

‘Um, maybe I should be completely honest with you,’ Dr Kipper sighed. ‘There was some slight problems along the way.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to get angry.’

‘What?’ she asked, angrily.

‘Okay. This is what happened,’ the old doctor said, fiddling with his moustache. ‘It was a hard task to revive twenty-two unconscious cats. They just lay there, and I didn’t know what to do. I tried all I could – I gave them mouth-to-mouth, I pulled their tails, and I blew in their ears. Nothing.’

‘Yes, I tried all that too,’ Grandma pointed out.

‘Well, I was so frantic – being a vet, I always make sure I do all I can to assure the survival of my patients – anyway, I decided to do a dance. Nothing major, just a little jig, similar to how Farmer Hoggit does in that movie, "Babe". Do you know that film? It was based on that novel, "The Sheep Pig", by Dick King Smith. Do you know which novel I am talking about?’

‘I think I may have read it,’ Percy chirped in. ‘When I was really young.’

‘Oh, okay,’ Dr Kipper smiled. There was a long pause.

‘What about my cats?’ Grandma asked, frantically.

‘Oh, your cats! Well, as I said before, I did a similar jig to the one that Farmer Hoggit did in that movie, "Babe", which is the story about a pig who turns out to be a good sheepdog as a result of his marvellous cross-species language skills, even though the head dog disapproves…’

‘Will you shut up about that film! It just so happens that I have seen it,’ she cried, ‘and it is a blatant rip-off from the classic cartoon, "Charlotte’s Web"!’

‘How?’ Dr Kipper asked. ‘Except for the fact that in both, there is a talking pig that performs outrageous actions, I cannot see any more resemblance between the two movies!’

‘Hang on a minute!’ Grandma snapped. ‘Maybe they were both rip-offs! Did you ever see that movie, "Animal Farm"? It was an adaptation of George Orwell’s novel. I haven’t read it, but I have heard it’s a laugh.’ Before he could answer, she got back on track. ‘Wait a minute! What about my cats?’

‘Okay, I’ll just blurt it all out,’ Dr Kipper sighed. ‘I did this jig, just like Farmer Hoggit, and then, each one of the twenty-two cats coughed up all the soapy water!’

‘Really?’ she asked happily. ‘You just danced, and they coughed it all up? I don’t believe it!’

‘Neither could I!’ he laughed. ‘They were perfectly fine! It was so unbelievable that I…’ he began, looking away in shame, ‘…had to try it again.’

‘You what?’ she asked angrily. Percy looked at the vet in shock.

‘I drowned them, okay!’ he cried. ‘But not on purpose! I stuck their heads in buckets, separately, just long enough to make them unconscious. And then I laid them all out, and did the same jig. But it didn’t work! I have no idea why it wouldn’t!’

‘You absolute quack! You murdered my cats! They were all I had! Now all I have is this idiot, here!’ she cried, pointing to Percy.

‘You promised that you wouldn’t get angry!’ Dr Kipper said accusingly.

She gave a loud sigh and shook her head. ‘You’re right, I did.’

‘You didn’t, actually, grandma,’ Percy said quietly.

‘No, I did,’ she answered. ‘Anyway, I still have Mittens Five. And if she can hurry up and seduce that cat of your teachers, Percy, I’ll be fine!’

‘What do you mean, seduce his cat?’ Percy asked. ‘You want Mittens Five to breed with Mr Winterbottom’s cat?’

‘It’s the only way,’ she smiled. ‘Its Catholic now, anyway! It should start popping out the litter as soon as it can!’

‘I’m Catholic, grandma,’ said Percy. ‘Enough of the Catholic jokes.’

‘No, but you see, Percy, the church doesn’t let cats wear condoms!’

‘I don’t think you can even get condoms for cats. You’re supposed to neuter them.’

‘You don’t think Tractor is neutered do you?’

‘I wouldn’t know, grandma.’

‘Father Hoggit was a Catholic, wasn’t he?’ Dr Kipper asked.

‘No, he most certainly wasn’t!’ Grandma called out, walking out of the surgery with Percy.

‘I think he was, grandma.’

‘Be quiet Percy!’ she commanded.

‘Don’t worry about the dead cats, I’m sure I’ll make some use out of them!’ Dr Kipper waved, and shut the door.

Percy and his grandmother walked back into the waiting room to collect Mittens Five from Mr Winterbottom. She looked at Tractor with a smile.

‘Hey there, sexy cat! You haven’t gone near Mittens Five yet, have you? I’m not surprised. It’s not a very romantic environment, the waiting room. How would you like to borrow my virgin cat for the night?’

‘Excuse me?’ Mr Winterbottom asked. ‘Why would I want your virgin cat?’

‘I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to your cat!’

‘Oh, I thought when you said "sexy cat", you were referring to me!’

‘Not quite,’ she laughed. ‘Not quite.’

Mr Winterbottom frowned at her and turned to Percy, snarling. ‘Tomorrow, Percy – you are going dooooooown!’ he laughed, his thumb swooping downwards.

Grandma shook his hand and left the clinic with Percy and Mittens Five.

As they walked out of the building, Percy turned to his grandma sadly. ‘Grandma, have you ever felt that life is so horrible that you just don’t want to live anymore?’

‘Well, now that you’re living with me, I kind of feel like dying!’ she smiled, giving him a friendly nudge.

She looked at Mittens Five and petted her. ‘You are going to breed with Tractor tomorrow, Mittens Five! When Mr Winterbottom, no doubt, brings Tractor in as evidence against Percy, you are going to…you are going to absolutely jump him! Yes you are, yes you are!’ she laughed, putting the cat close to her face.

‘What’s wrong with your hair?’ Percy’s lawyer asked him rudely.

‘Pardon?’ Percy smiled to the seven-year-old girl. She was Indonesian and was playing with her toy mobile phone.

‘You’re a faggot!’ she laughed.

Percy was shocked at this little girl’s language. It was ten minutes before the case Pumpernickel versus Winterbottom began, and all his lawyer seemed to do was insult him.

‘Are you innocent or guilty?’ she asked.

‘Innocent,’ Percy replied.

‘Man, you are a complete spastic,’ she laughed.

‘So, what’s your name?’ Percy asked.

‘I’m not allowed to tell strangers my name,’ she replied. ‘Especially not dickheads like you.’

Percy looked offended. That was a very rude thing to say. He wondered whether having her as a lawyer would help win the case. As it turned out, he would never know.

‘You’re a very boring person,’ she sighed. ‘I have no time for you.’ She picked up her small pink briefcase, gathered her notes, put her toy mobile phone in her pocket and left the office in a huff.

Percy sighed. The school shouldn’t have hired her as his lawyer in the first place.

Soon, the school court was in session. Grandma sat waiting for it to begin, not to support her grandson so much, but to play cupid for her cat.

‘Look what I have here!’ she smiled to Mittens Five, bringing out a packet of strange looking herbs from her dress pocket. ‘No, it’s not Marijuana! It’s catnip!’

The cat looked at the herbs, purring and shaking its tail wildly.

‘One sniff of this should get your motor running, and I’m not talking about purring here,’ she smiled, patting her. ‘Look! There’s that sexy beast over there!’

She pointed to Tractor, who was sitting on Mr Winterbottom’s lap.

‘Easy, Mittens Five,’ Grandma chuckled. ‘We’ll wait for the right moment. When the courtroom mood is more…erotic.’

The cat continued to look wildly at the packet.

The school court was in session. Percy was handcuffed and brought out in front of the judge – Fr Cubicle, the principal.

‘Percy, you have been accused of, with malice and foresight, setting fire to your teacher’s office in an attempt to kill him. What do you say to these accusations?’

‘I didn’t do it, your honour,’ Percy asserted. ‘It’s that simple. I was nowhere near the office when it happened, and my grandma can verify it.’

‘Don’t bring me into this!’ she called out. ‘I don’t know nothin’!’

Percy sighed and sat down.

‘Call the first witness,’ Fr Cubicle said. Percy looked in horror as Stav Don Buolmwipe, a fellow student who enjoyed kicking him in the head, marched across the courtroom with a large grin on his face.

‘I swear to tell the truth and all that,’ Stav smiled, tossing around the bible in his hands. ‘Well, the truth is, Percy is a stupid dick-head. An absolute tosser. Everyone hates him.’

There was a silence.

‘Did you see Percy set fire to Mr Winterbottom’s office?’ Fr Cubicle asked.

‘Yes, I did see that. I am sure of it.’

‘Where were you at the time?’

‘At home, watching the cricket.’

‘So, how do you know he set fire to Mr Winterbottom’s office?’

‘Well, I just know,’ Stav replied. ‘He is the kind of guy that would!’

‘Give an example,’ Fr Cubicle ordered.

Stav fell silent. He had no idea what to say. Mr Winterbottom shrugged at him.

‘That will do,’ Fr Cubicle groaned.

Suddenly the school counsellor, Bean Thursday, stood up. ‘Can I go to the toilet?’ he asked.

‘Yes you may,’ Fr Cubicle sighed.

‘No, you don’t understand,’ Bean Thursday interrupted. ‘I just feel better knowing that I can go.’

‘Well, then, call the next bloody witness!’ Fr Cubicle ordered, banging his bench with the hammer in anger.

Percy looked around to see Gropogi Winters, the fat Greek lollipop man, waddling into the courtroom.

‘Uh, hello court. Hello, Fr Cubicle. Hello everybody.’ Gropogi smiled.

‘You are the lollipop man here, at Boy College,’ Fr Cubicle began. ‘How are you relevant to this case?’

‘I don’t think I am,’ Gropogi smiled.

‘Get out of here and get back to work!’ Fr Cubicle yelled. ‘God almighty! Don’t we have any proper witnesses here?’

Suddenly there was a thunderous bang on the door. One bang, two bangs, before SMASH! An elephant came smashing through the courtroom.

‘What on earth!’ Fr Cubicle yelled. ‘Mr Winterbottom, did you honestly think that an elephant was an appropriate witness to bring into court?’

‘I am sorry sir, it is supposed to be Uncle Peter, a rich and influential man who runs the nearby cheese factory.’

Sure enough, from down the nose of the elephant slid Uncle Peter. The tall man put his top hat back on, gave his moustache a quick stroke, and came down the middle of the courtroom with a cocky stride.

‘Ah! Salutations, audience!’ Uncle Peter called out, giving a bow. He marched up to the witness box and gave a wink.

‘Uncle Peter, what has this case got to do with you?’ asked Fr Cubicle.

‘I’m glad you asked, Fr Creamy!’ Uncle Peter laughed.

‘It’s Fr Cubicle,’ he replied with a frown. ‘And you realise that you’ll be paying for the destruction you just caused.’

‘Why, certainly, Creamy!’ Uncle Peter laughed. ‘Now, I understand that Percy has been accused of burning down an office, unless I am greatly mistaken!’

‘That is correct, Uncle Peter.’

‘Well, get this! He is under the impression that the duck that I have brought before you is an elephant!’

‘It is an elephant,’ Fr Cubicle sighed.

‘Not quite,’ Uncle Peter said, shaking his head. ‘And I will demonstrate.’ He walked over to the elephant and stuck his hand up its nostrils. It reacted by lifting its head up to the sky with a loud, trumpeting elephant call.

‘What are you doing, Uncle Peter?’

‘I cannot comprehend this change of manner. I remember, it was only last night, when I was cleaning its nostrils and it quacked!’

‘Get out of my courtroom, and take your elephant with you!’ Fr Cubicle yelled, banging the hammer. ‘Why can’t we just bring out some evidence for god’s sake?’

Grandma was getting prepared. She was wrapping the catnip in a piece of easy-for-a-cat-to-smoke paper.

‘You’ve got to try this stuff, Mittens Five!’ she giggled. ‘It makes you feel good!’

Percy, meanwhile, just wanted it all to end. Mr Winterbottom had obviously called all of these witnesses in simply to confuse the Fr Cubicle into finding him guilty.

‘And that’s why I think they should they should release the entire series of "Gumby" on DVD!’ yelled the school nurse, passionately.

‘I have had it!’ Fr Cubicle shouted. ‘Mr Winterbottom, let’s hear your story, and get this over and done with!’

Mr Winterbottom was wearing a neck brace, and was bandaged from head to toe. His cat was wearing a cone around its neck and was also bandaged.

‘I don’t wish Percy any harm,’ he begun. ‘I simply want justice. Proper justice!’

‘Mr Winterbottom, we’ve already discussed this,’ Fr Cubicle interrupted.

‘No!’ Mr Winterbottom yelled. ‘He set me on fire! If that doesn’t deserve the death penalty, I don’t know what does!’

‘It’s just policy, Mr Winterbottom,’ Fr Cubicle. ‘The parents were starting to take their kids out of the school.’

‘I hate that little bastard,’ he grumbled to himself.

‘Here you go,’ said grandma, taking a cigarette lighter out and lighting the joint of catnip. She handed it to Mittens Five, who sniffed it in ecstasy. ‘Yes! Soon, you’ll be pregnant and I will have twenty – no, thirty more cats!’

‘I’m sorry, were you speaking to me?’ asked an old man, sitting beside her.

‘No, I was talking to my cat,’ she replied.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen,’ Mr Winterbottom began, ‘I don’t want to keep you any longer than I have to, so I’ll keep it short and sweet. Percy is a troublemaker. As a result of constant antisocial behaviour, I expelled him. So he decided to get revenge.’

‘He expelled me because he thought that I was wearing my tie incorrectly!’ Percy called out.

‘Um, can I go to the toilet now?’ asked school counsellor, Bean Thursday, again.

‘Do you actually need to go?’ asked Fr Cubicle. ‘Or is it simply to interrupt court proceedings?’

‘Can I get back to you on that question?’ Bean Thursday asked, and sat down.

‘Anyway,’ Mr Winterbottom continued, ‘as revenge, Percy Pumpernickel snuck into my office when I was hard at work. He poured kerosene in through my window, before lighting a match and watching me fry. As you can see, I most certainly did.’

Percy’s attention was diverted to a well-dressed man in a brown coloured suit. He had a cheeky grin on his face, as he held a briefcase out in front of Mr Winterbottom and dropped it. ‘Aha!’ the man grinned.

Mr Winterbottom knew this trick, so instead of moving his head around – thus exposing the fact that his neck wasn’t really damaged – he moved his whole body around. ‘We’ve all seen that episode of the Brady Bunch,’ Mr Winterbottom sighed.

The man clicked his fingers with a frustrated smile, picking up his briefcase and moving back to his seat.

‘As I was saying, I have suffered third degree burns to eighty-percent of my body, and so has my cat, little Tractor here.’

Bean Thursday chose this point to stand up. ‘That is it! I am going to the toilet!’ he yelled.

‘Well, you can’t go!’ Fr Cubicle replied. ‘You can’t just demand to leave without asking me first!’

Bean Thursday looked frustrated as he sat down, putting his hands between his legs and rocking back and forth.

Fr Cubicle looked at Mr Winterbottom. ‘Well, that is enough evidence for me. Percy, have you got any final words?

‘I want to die,’ he cried out.

‘As I keep saying over and over again, no! It is no longer Boy College policy!’

‘This is…a pretty romantic atmosphere!’ Grandma smiled to herself and let go of her cat. ‘Go get him, tiger!’ she urged. Mittens Five, doped up on catnip, sped across the courtroom, towards Mr Winterbottom and Tractor.

‘Oh god!’ Mr Winterbottom cried anxiously. ‘It’s that cat! She knows! She knows everything, and she’s going to ruin me!’

Mittens Five had a fiery look in her eyes as she sped closer.

‘Stay back!’ Mr Winterbottom yelled, pointing nervously. ‘Don’t come any closer!’

But Mitten Five lunged across to the microphone, right to where Tractor sat.

‘Okay! I admit it!’ Mr Winterbottom yelled to everyone. ‘I did it! I set my own office on fire! Why? Because I hate Percy! I want to see him dead, you hear me! Dead!’

The entire courtroom was shocked. Firstly, it was because Mr Winterbottom had confessed to committing the crime. Secondly, it was because there were two cats biting, clawing and screwing each other.

‘Yeah! Take it!’ Grandma cheered.

Fr Cubicle took his eyes off the two cats and gazed across at Mr Winterbottom. ‘You have wasted hours of the court’s valuable time. You have lied, you have bore false witness against an innocent student, and you have set fire to a school building. Mr Winterbottom, you are fired!’

‘What?’ he yelled. ‘Fired? Me?’

‘Yes, Mr Winterbottom. Fired. Take your things and get out. You are not welcome to teach at this school anymore!’

Percy was absolutely amazed. After everything, his Grandma had saved him! Mr Winterbottom was gone! He no longer had anything to fear!

‘I’ll kill you Percy!’ Mr Winterbottom screamed ferociously as he was dragged out of the courtroom. ‘I am going to hunt you down and kill you, if it is the last thing I do!’

Percy didn’t feel so safe anymore.