Wednesday, December 19, 2012

#501. Blogathon of Doom!!! (Part 3)

Here we are in my final round of 

after three of four intended weeks of participation.  That's okay, because I am now going to make it all better by sharing with you the story of

The Christmas Cat

Once long ago in a village somewhere in Iceland, a young cartoonist was busy writing about the adventures of anthropomorphic cats.  One of them was a serial killer.  This story is not about the serial killer anthropomorphic cat.  In fact, it is not about any of those anthropomorphic cats.  It is, as the title suggests, about the Christmas Cat.

 (the terrible image from those Flawless Kitty Logic posts
you know nothing about returns!)

The Christmas Cat had come once again to this small village somewhere in Iceland because the young cartoonist suffered from a terrible malady.  This malady is only possible on Christmas because it relates directly to Christmas, specifically in the exchanging of gifts.  Each year the young cartoonist hoped to receive among his gifts an article of clothing.  It did not matter what that article was, or even if it was an article about clothing, just so long as someone gave him something clothing related.  It could even be an old pair of socks with holes the side of neck openings in sweaters, even hideous sweaters that are only knitted to exchange at Christmas in some insidious plot to make the holiday more garish than it already is.
     Except the young cartoonist had not always received the gift of an article of clothing at Christmas, and this was how he came to know of the Christmas Cat.
     For you see, the Christmas Cat strikes at those who do not receive at least one article of clothing as a gift, even a hideous sweater that is only knitted to exchange at Christmas, or an old pair of socks.  The Christmas Cat strikes without mercy at such unlucky souls!  It uses them as batting practice, which is different than the batting practice in baseball, as cats can and will unsheathe their claws, and the Christmas Cat always unsheathes its claws when it strikes those who do not receive at least one article of clothing!
     It is a most terrifying sight, the furry creature stirring down the chimney with care, with hopes that its victim has much skin to share.
     The young cartoonist subsequently begged his family and acquaintances each year for some article of clothing, even a hat he would otherwise not have been caught dead wearing, or a necktie with ducks on it.  To his horror, the young cartoonists's family and acquaintances did not heed his suggestions.  On Christmas, with sweat pouring down his face, the young cartoonist opened each gift with care, hoping to find some article of clothing.
     One present, two presents, three presents and more, not a stitch or a zipper could be found on the floor!
     The young cartoonist looked about the room around the Christmas tree, watched to see wrapping paper stir.  The smell of gravy soon filled the air, and he knew that the Christmas Cat was coming with its usual flair!  He threw on a blanket, he put small kids before him, but the Christmas Cat found him as if on a whim.
     Tiny paws struck out again and again, and a rhyme kept coming at him for some reason every now and then!
     Perhaps this was the reason the young cartoonist from the village in Iceland began to write stories of anthropomorphic cats which featured at least one serial killer.  Then he moved on to Ninja Turtles, but the story everyone remembered from the young cartoonist was the tale of the Christmas Cat, but they were all too foolish, believing it was just science fiction.
     But woe be to them, for they would soon face the wrath of the tiny white cat, whose paws hid great shiny claws which struck like a pin!
So ends my participation in the Christmas Blogathon of Doom!  My book,
 is free for the last time in its Kindle edition, which means in the future you will have to buy a copy (preferably a paperback copy).

If you haven't heard already, I'm working on an anthology of flash fiction called "Project Mayhem," and you'll welcome to participate.  You're even free to write something about how much you hate rhymes, just so long as you can make a crude story out of it.  Honestly, I'm that desperate.

The blogathon continues to its conclusion:

  • our friendly host Briane Pagel at Thinking the Lions is eager to fling one of his many books at you (12/20)
  • PT Dilloway is equally eager to discuss Tales of the Scarlet Knight, of which A Hero's Journey comprises the first volume (12/21)
  • Vanna Smythe over at her eponymous blog is also eager, but with Protector, which is Book One in her Anniversary of the Veil series (12/22)
  • for some reason Briane concludes the blogathon himself (12/24)
It should be noted that the whole end-of-the-world thing I went on about last time (and possibly why this is a Christmas blogathon OF DOOM) still has a chance of happening on Dilloway's last day.  No word yet if he will be posting an equally ridiculous message about this Mayan cycle of renewal/MESSAGE OF DOOM.

Merry Christmas!


PT Dilloway, Superhero Author said...

I hope the world doesn't end Friday because I mailed in my Friday post. Mostly because I double-booked the blog that day with Michael Offutt's blog tour.

Tony Laplume said...

If it does end, at least you'll already have done the work. So you can relax as the world burns!

Michael Offutt, Speculative Fiction Author said...

Your cover looks remarkably similar to the one on Briane Pagel's book "Eclipse" only his is red in color.

Hey Tony, I sent you a bookmark from Patrick's blog (put it in the mail today). I'd also like to offer you a free e-copy of Oculus if you want. But it's not a problem if you're too busy, or it's not your type of book. If you do want a copy though, hit me back via email please and I'll get you one in Kindle mobi, epub, or pdf.

Shannon Lawrence said...

Ack! I knew there was a good reason I always get a pair of slipper socks for Christmas (aside from the fact that I love them and wear them all the time when it's cold...).

And the world did not, in fact, end. Shew.

Shannon at The Warrior Muse

Tony Laplume said...

It was the worst apocalypse ever.


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