Saturday, February 9, 2013

Nine Ways to Outwit a Dastardly Cat

Mabel and Percy are as old as the moon (to look at them that’s what you’d think)
But don’t you be fooled by their feeble appearance and mouldering stink ...

As quick as a flash they can build things from rubbish, like rockets and robots and stuff,
And all of these marvellous, magical gizmos are cunningly powered by GUFF.

How do they do it? Eating cabbages, of course. Millions of them.

Grown in their garden from morning ‘til night, these lovely green veggies abound,
Fuelling their trumps and their poops and their parps and the heat they produce all year round.

Early one morning, they stepped out the door and both got a terrible fright,
For there in their garden were thousands of cats, not a solitary cabbage in sight.

The mogs had discovered this haven of warmth and decided they wanted to stay,
Even the smell of old cabbagey poops couldn’t frighten these moggies away.

“Shoo,” cried old Mabel, whilst flapping her hands, but the cats simply sat there and glared,
Twitching their whiskers and sharpening their claws, they weren’t in the slightest bit scared.

Poor Mabel and Percy were troubled and worried, these cats were a pain in the bum,
No breakfast or dinner, no supper, no lunch; no wonder the couple looked glum!

“How can we banish these menacing critters, and set all our cabbages free?”
Then Percy remembered a book in the attic; a title that filled him with glee:

Nine Ways To Outwit a Dastardly Cat

“Perfect,” cried Percy as he blew off the dust and hurriedly turned to Page One:
Mothballs, it said, are a cat’s biggest foe, spread them out and you'll see those cats run.

So Mabel and Percy went hunting for mothballs, all stinky and smelly and hard,
Then built a great slingshot from knickers and braces and blasted them into their yard.

But alas for our couple, they’d really forgotten that cats like a game of ping-pong,
Within minutes of sniping the mangy old moggies the mothballs had literally gone.

And so they continued to Page Number Two where they read of a magical soap;
A stinky old soap which smelled rotten to cats but filled Mabel and Percy with hope.

So they ordered a tonne of these miracle suds then built a magnificent machine,
That grated and sliced-up and grated and diced-up more soap than had ever been seen.

And it worked ...

It didn’t take long for the cats to start gagging; they gasped and they gurgled and wheezed,
But then came the rain, and the soap turned to bubbles that floated away on the breeze.

“Oh bothersome bother,” cried Mabel and Percy, while turning to Page Number Three:
Cats really don’t care for the smell of a lemon, sprinkle peelings and then you’ll be free.

Now to get lots of peel you should eat lots of lemons, a thousand, perhaps maybe more,
So they munched and they sucked and the chewed and they peeled, ‘til it covered the whole of the floor.

But their tummies soon rumbled and grumbled and growled and their bottoms; they started to spew,
For far too much fruit can give you the runs and they spent a whole week on the loo.

Mabel and Percy couldn’t look at a lemon, as they hastily turned to Page Four:
Throw pepper all over your garden today and you’re troubles will walk out the door.

“Yippee,” they both laughed, “this one’s easy for sure,” as they peppered the grass and the trees,
But both had forgotten the first rule of pepper; it’s guaranteed to make everyone sneeze.

First the cats: Sss! Sss! Sss!
Then Mabel: Achooo!
Then Percy: Ah-ahh-ahhh-ahhhh-CHOOOOOOOO!

Together they sneezed and they sneezed and they sneezed, all night and then all of the day,
And when they’d all stopped they discovered quite quickly they’d blown all the pepper away.

Page Number Five said a hullabaloo will drive dastardly moggies away,
Create a loud noise (like a monster mosquito), they'll gone by the end of the day.

So Percy invented a ginormous whistle which he made from a rusty old rocket,
Then blew through the end bit as hard as he could to create a fantasico racket.

“Eeeee,” screamed the whistle. “Meeeow,” screeched the cats as the noise sent them into a spin,
They raced to the left and raced to the right in their bid to escape from the din.

Then all of a sudden the noise reached a peak, the doors and the windows all smashed,
For Mabel and Percy (now hungry and cold) their hopes had been once again dashed!.

Feeling down and dejected they turned over the page and started to read Number Six:
Cats hate the water, so set up a sprinkler and your problems will shortly be fixed.

“Oh dear,” cried old Mabel, “we are skint, we’ve no money, how can we afford one of those?”
But Percy, like magic, set to work in his cellar with a barrel, a vacuum and hose.

After hours he emerged with a Pump Action Soaker which threw out the water with force,
And blasted those moggies from the top of his tower without even a hint of remorse.

But it wasn't good news for poor Mabel and Percy, for the cats were now feeling were quite scruffy,
They LOVED the new shower that Percy invented and the way that it made them feel fluffy.

So they turned to Page Seven and got quite a shock to discover what they needed to do: To frighten off cats, said the book of solutions, there’s nothing more scary than ... poo.


Desperate now for a cabbagey feast, Percy scampered right off to the zoo,
He hoped that the lion had eaten already ... and hoped it had been to the loo.

Whilst tiptoeing up close to the sleepy old lion, he looked out out for juicy big dollop,
But slipped on some wee and then fell on the floor with a smack and a bang and a wallop.

The lion awoke with a terrible fright and pounced on our hapless friend Percy,
But lucky for him, he was terribly thin so the lion showed nothing but mercy.

No bucket, no poo meant no cabbage-leaf stew – so it was over to Page Number Eight:
To make cats recoil, sprinkle hair on the soil, you'll find the results are just great.

So after much banging and crashing and sawing, Percy emerged with a magical chair;
It had shampoo and scissors and blowers and curlers and a hat that could help you grow hair. 

“Grow hair, GROW!” cried a hungry Mabel. And her hair gently started to flow.
“Snip hair, SNIP!” cried a starving Percy ... but the hair just continued to grow.

It filled up the room, then it burst out the door, the hair was now out of control.
KABOOM went the house; it had simply exploded leaving nothing behind but a hole.

They’d have turned to Page Nine, but Page Nine was no more. It had exploded. Vamoosed. Disappeared.
“We are doomed, we are done, those bad cats have now won; it is just as we always both feared.”

“Please, PLEASE,” begged old Percy, “Please leave us both be, we are tired, we are frail and we’re famished.”
“At last ...” cried the cats, “those old guff-bags said PLEASE.” And with that they upped and they vanished.

Thus magic exists in a six letter word and to say it is really quite easy ... 
If you value your poops and your cabbage-leaf soups don't ever forget to say PLEASEY.

Written by Corrinne Garstang
Copyright © 2016 Corrinne Garstang. All Rights Reserved.