The Adventures of Zofie and Mr. Fluffy: pairofducks

…I’m just so tired of wasting my time, you know? I thought that I’d finally found my artistic haven. Instead, it’s nothing but “Ooo, Zofie, look at this game!” Or “Ahh, Zofie, doesn’t this look funny?” As if the entire world revolved around high scores and web links. We were all doing so well, Mr. Fluffy. Or I thought we were. The other gals and I had great ideas for comics and films… AND it looked like we were actually onto something! I’ve told you all this before but you’re the only one I can talk to about these things. Besides, I feed you and clean your litter box: the least you can do is lend me one of those cute ears. And try to aim in the box more. In the box, Mr. Fluffy.

We were supposed to show the world that women can do more than wiggle our asses and be hausfraus. Not much ass for me to wiggle, anyway. Linda and Patty have so much imagination behind their mascara. Whenever we’re up all night at the diner spewing randomness, I get excited. For me and for them. I tried– Put those claws away. I tried so many times to get them motivated but it only seems to work when I’m around. No offense, but it’s like herding cats.

Linda is very much the sci-fi gal. Well, we all are but I think she’s the one who’ll make the most out of it. Who’d make the most out of it. I think her love of Douglas Adams makes her feel that she can write just like him… including his pace. Mr. Fluffy, did I tell you about that biography I read? Douglas Adams couldn’t make a deadline for five years! Or was it ten? Five years is still a long time to fuck up a deadline. I couldn’t imagine being that irresponsible. And THEN— Oh yeah, Linda.

She tells me these great ideas and then gets distracted with so many things. Or is it the same thing a bunch of times? That’s what talking to you is for, Mr. Fluffy. Figuring everything out. Aw, you yawned for me. I won’t fall for your ruse, though. Despite my feelings on the matter, I can’t tell you what she’s told me. In the strictest confidence, things were said. And I’m a woman of my woooord. Liked my Joker impression?

Linda’s distractions, Linda’s distractions… there’s her fella, Otto. Where one goes, so too does the other’s kingdom. And their castles are dripping with PDA. I mean, if it was warped and fun like Spike and Drusilla, I’d love the popcorn view. But nooo, it’s that sappy love song bull that makes me wanna… makes me wanna… Oh, shush, I’m not bitter. But back to Lotto. Or just Otto for right now. He’s an enabler. He knows she’s creative and wants to write stories, but he lets her get distracted with video games. And sex. No, I’m not bitter.

Then there’s Patty. What hurts is that we’re so similar and yet she can’t get her act together. It’s like we’re opposites: Nega-Zofie and Posi-Patty. Remember me telling you about the zombie novel I helped her plot? The one I spent a month helping her with? Completely discarded and forgotten. Or rather, it’s discarded because it’s forgotten. It was a great satire, too. But the newest game probably came out and she had to choose twixt 20 hours of fun or a lifetime of fun. Herding cats, Mr. Fluffy.

I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how someone could allow themself to be gutter bait like that. Yeah, yeah, more belly rubs. Patty has so much going for her, or could have, and yet she spends her time doing everything but something worthwhile. And her standards with men are just… most of the time. Sometimes, she does good for herself. But she seems quite happy with the bare minimum in life as long as her games still work. And her phone’s turned on. Mein gott, Herr Fluffy, you’d swear she was 14 with all the time she spends on her phone. Smart phones are probably the worst things that happened to conversation in the 21st century. She also has a habit of being on the phone for long periods of time while out with Linda and I. It’s fucking rude, Mr. Fluffy. Always talking to some guy she met online or wherever else. No, I’m not bitter.

Alright, I’m fucking bitter. I have the most going for me yet I’m the worst-off socially. I’m having a one-sided heart-to-heart with my sleeping cat. How are they able to get men while I get dick? Figurative dick. What’s that? How are my standards? Only the best for me, Mr. Fluffy. Only the bestiest-est-best. I guess it’s better this way, being alone for now. If I had a guy, he probably wouldn’t be the best I could do. And when the best comes, and it will come, I wouldn’t think twice about about ditching one for the other. Like Evan Grey. Mmm. Ok, I’m a bitch sometimes, but you’re a cat and can’t call me one. Success: mine.

I’m not sure what the point of this was, Mr. Fluffy, but I feel better. What’s for din-din…

If you liked this short story, you should read the first four chapters of my first novel, “Lie” (by me, Rathan Krueger). And if you liked them, you should buy the eBook wherever they’re sold. Thanks a bunch.

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One Response to “The Adventures of Zofie and Mr. Fluffy: pairofducks”

  1. […] I Wanna Do Something That Matters « The Adventures of Zofie and Mr. Fluffy: pairofducks […]

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