Tuesday, 16 October 2007

Cornelius


Frank Morgan has just submitted a Cat Boat story. good work, Frank Morgan. thanks. if anyone else wants to submit one, email it to chriskillen [at] gmail.com and i will post it on here.

here is Frank Morgan's story:


Cornelius

Somebody had been telling lies about Cornelius. (It was Cornelius.)
Cornelius had a lot to hide from the other cats on The Cat Boat.

The first lie that had been told was that Cornelius’s real name was
Cornelius.

It wasn’t.

Cornelius thought he could have made up a better name but he was stuck
with it now, and anyway, no one seemed to care. One of the other cats on
The Cat Boat was calling himself Pindeldyboz for meowing out loud. Maybe
Cornelius wasn’t so bad after all.

On the boring days Cornelius wasn’t sure if he had made the right
decision, joining the crew of The Cat Boat. It had been a spur of the
moment thing, a disappearing act.

The second lie that had been bandied about (solely by Cornelius) was the
reason he was on The Cat Boat. Cornelius told the others one night over a
game of cards that he had been part of the sub prime lending fiasco that
lead to all the trouble with that bank.

Whilst it was true that Cornelius had once set up an internet mortgage
broker site and sold some dodgy mortgages to a bunch of unemployed taxi
drivers from Croydon, and whilst it was true that the unemployed taxi
drivers had all subsequently lost their homes, Cornelius had wildly
exaggerated the story and made himself the key player in the whole bank
breaking affair. Needless to say, this really wasn’t the case. (It was a
pointless lie anyway, as anyone who could read a newspaper knew all the
key players were cats operating dodgy internet mortgage broker sites in
the USA).

Cornelius didn’t like thinking about the real reason he was on The Cat Boat.

Everyone on The Cat Boat knows Cornelius has a temper.

Not everyone on The Cat Boat realises how bad his temper really is.

Before Cornelius joined the cat boat and became Cornelius he was called
Jeff Richie. Jeff Richie was a greasy low down good for nothing crook. A
real slime ball.

Jeff Richie had a family of humans to attend to his every need. Jeff
Richie, it was widely agreed, did not deserve the luxuries which were
bestowed upon him.

The family. A cat couldn’t want for more loving people. They fed him steak
and stroked him behind the ear and even bought him presents at Christmas.

But then the baby was born.

No one on the cat boat must ever find out what Jeff Richie did.

Stupid baby.

No more steak. No more attention.

The night before joining the crew of The Cat Boat, in a fit of jealous
rage and drunk on Tescos value whiskey, Jeff Richie made his way upstairs
to the family bedroom, mumbling to himself and cursing the baby under his
breath. He pushed the bedroom door open and crept inside. The family was
asleep. The baby was asleep. Jeff Richie jumped onto the baby’s cot and
looked at it for a while gurgling away the pink useless lump. Then with
two vicious swipes of his paw he blinded the helpless little boy child.