The droaning voice of Tukay Lionheart speaks quietly, the brightly lit light blue walls of the room we saw Tukay in briefly last week. Tukay leans against his bed, his blond hair wet and clinging to blue and black duvet cover. He looks down a majority of the time, scratching at a white bandage on his hand, looking up every now and then as if directly at someone. The room is well lit from 4 spot lamps on the ceiling at first glance you get the feeling there’s a shadow against the wall, you blink once and dismiss it. You move around in front of Tukay, his eyes snap up in your direction sharply and he looks right through you. You panic at first before realising that you’re not really here, come to think of it, how did you get here anyway?

Tukay’s stare cut through you, you move slowly around to one side of him, relieved to find his eyes do not follow you around the room.

You shouldn’t have come here, you weren’t invite… you need a special pass with a stamp.

Again his eyes snap around this time looking away from you, you look up to see a mirror against the opposite wall your brow furrows as you see Tukay staring at you through the mirror.

You can’t loiter here, there’s no loitering.

His eyes open wide, his face concerned.

That’s why you’re a cat….

He brings his eyes back to in front of him, looking down, cupping his hand over his eyes mumbling incoherently.

They put you a in cage, don’t worry it’s not real. We’ll send you picnics and party’s at the beach, but don’t forget strawberries. No not this cat.

He starts to sing almost

Lock him in the Lion’s Den and throw away the Key.

He shouts now, looking up… you can tell by his eyes he sees something or someone.

It’s an expensive toy, it breaks on the steel. *again he says like he’s singing almost* Crushed like a Barbie doll.

Tukay looks around his eyes getting very puppy dog very quickly as he stares at the empty space.

I’m sorry, if I’d known you were coming I’d have baked a cake.No, no, no, no, no, no. Now is not the time. You know it. I know it. But making them understand... is a totally different matter. No manners is the problem. Proper breeding. Lack of etiquette. All of it lacking. All of it lost on them.

You slouch back as he rants loudly as though he’s telling someone you can’t see off.

Not the time. Not hardly ready.

He looks displeased.

Oh, oh, lucky girl. Call it quits. Now, there's an option. If only it were so easy. If only— If only— If only— (addressing you who is clearly no there) What the hell are you screaming about? I can hear you. No need to (screams) SHOUT!

You flinch back and wonder for a moment if he's totally lost his mind, he glances at you.

Well yeah, where've you been all night? I get it. The joke's on me. Lots of laughs. (laughing and pushing himself up onto his bed.) Yeah. Hey, bring the wife and kiddies. Come see the show 'cause it's going to be a circus. This... (looks back to whatever he sees in front of him.) just the beginning, luv. A warm-up act. The real headliner's coming, and when that band hits the stage, all of this... (stands up and around the room) all this... will come tumbling in death and screaming, horror and bloodshed. (looks directly at you, pointing to your face with an open hand) I’m not crazy…. Well Crazy….

Your eyes snap open violently and you sit up in your comfy bed, you look around your quiet haven, safe from the nasties outside, you look at your hands before mumbling to yourself.

…… but he’s not wrong.