The Aristocats Collection

Chapter 6

I still remember the dancing cat vividly--his sweet dances, his swaggy moves, and, of course, my 'rinky-tinky-tinky'. I remember almost every line of that song, Ev'rybody Wants To Be A Cat. Scat Cat and his band actually had moved in for a while, but left in about a month. Off on their next 'life adventure', I guess. It was sweet when they were here. Scat Cat is so cool. And I have evolved my singing voice to love jazz. I'm slick and smooth, not to brag or anything though.
This is why I was excited to learn that Scat Cat was returning. He dropped half his band and got some new folks, though. I guess the oldies weren't good enough. But I never came for the band. Just Scat Cat. Oh, and Shun Gon. He was pretty funny. It was sad to learn he 'was one of the dropped folks. I couldn't see why anyone would drop that awesome dude. But, oh well. At least I'll always remember that the fortune cookie is always wrong.
Scat Cat would return in 3 days, Mama had said. She said that Duke said that O'Malley said he was coming back. You know how cats are. Always keeping track of the world. Sweet, alright.
Wacky Cat is my next favorite band member after Shun Gon. Fortunately, Wacky's still in the group. Playing the saxophone like always. I loved how...well, wacky Wacky was. He was always a bit quirky, but helpful over all.
Walking along the roof, I was already tapping my toes. I sung to myself. ''Everybody wants to be a cat...'' Then I started wondering about new songs. I came up with one of my own.
"A cat's a cat, and a cat's a cat, a cat with toes to tap. Yeah!'' I laughed. Probably not that song. It would be awesome.
It was the quickest three days ever. I woke up feeling happy. He was coming at 9:00 AM. I glanced at the clock, and--ah!--it was 8:30! I had, like, 30 minutes to get ready for someone I hadn't seen in a year. Talk about sleeping in!
I always loved how fur hanging off my head looked, so I did that. My diamond and gold collar fastened snug around my neck. My fur was neatly cut, my claws hygienically clipped. I prepared my swagginess and jazziness for the arrival.
Then--the moment!--Scat Cat and his band casually walked in. I quickly scanned the band for familiar faces. Wacky, Beach Dude--and some I didn't recognize. But my eyes immediately caught one new, surprising one.
A beautiful tan female.
She looked about my age. Her eyelashes were long. I swore she had kitty mascara or something. She had a purple and green collar. Strange enough.
Madame had known Scat and his gang coming, so she set up a room just for them. Their sleep room, their recording room, living room, even bathroom--all in one. I guess Madame can read a cat's mind.
However, back to the girl. Her paws were not too tiny for her body, but smaller than you would think. Her slick fur shimmered from sunlight pouring through a nearby window. And she had stolen my look--the hang-down hair. Everyone knew that was my style.
"So..." the girl started, and I hope she hadn't noticed my stare. "I'm Desiree. Wacky, Scat, Dude, Pickee, and Swoon." She introduced us to the band. I smiled. See, here's the thing--when I was little, just before Scat Cat had left, he made me a promise. He said that once I grew up, and blossomed into a young lady, if we saw eachother again he would let me sing with him.
"Scat Cat, you made me a promise. May I sing with you?" I asked politely, and quickly batted my eyes so no one but Scat could see. "Oh, Marie, don't think I forgot!" he laughed. I giggled along with him. "I'll lead you to your room, so you-'' I was cut off by Desiree, whom had a strict voice now. "I think we can find it ourselves. Besides-" She wrinkled her nose. "This is a very small place anyway." How rude! That little know-it-all cat knows where the room is. I didn't say anything, I just nodded. ''Ok...'' I said, unsure. Who cares what that rat thinks? But, surprisingly, she turned down the right hallway and stopped at the right door.
I lined up to file in the door, and Desiree looked at me as if I was in the wrong place. "Um, would you so kindly at least give us time to explore this new room?'' she said, with a look of either disapproval or disgust on her face. Mama didn't even hear her, but I sure did. I didn't listen though, and I pretended I didn't hear. Desiree's head popped back when we entered the room, as if she hated it. "This is...um...awesome!" she mustered in a fake cheery voice. I rolled my eyes. "Chop chop! Everybody wants to be a cat, live in 10!" Scat Cat shouted. Everyone got in a spot. I went up beside Scat Cat, but Desiree nudged me to the side so she could be in the middle. This was one weird cat here, Desiree.
The band began playing, and I was gonna sing. However, Desiree cut me off. I have to admit, her voice was pretty good. But not too good.
"Ev-reh-body wants to bae a cat." Her words flowed through her mouth, and she needed some real work on pronunciation. Maybe she'd let me sing now!
"A squ-" but again, she cuts me off! "A squa with a hon, make ya wish ya won't born, every time he plays." Her voice was way too smooth. You know how milk or cheese tastes after it's been pasteurized too many times? Yeah, that was the feeling. Pasteurized. Processed. Unnatural.
Desiree finally let me sing one line, and it was "I've heard some corny birds who try to sing." She was extremely rude. At the end of the song, she stared at me. "Oh, tsk tsk tsk." she said, waving her paw at me. "You're a rock in the rough. I'm a polished diamond. You need much work, sweetie." she critiqued. "Oh, well, if you would have let me sing more, you would have heard my voice." I tried to say that as friendly as possible. "But sweetie, listen. I did hear your voice, and I didn't like it. Either practice and get way better, or leave me and MY band alone." She rudely replied. "I will give you mandatory lessons every day from morn to noon." she walked away before I could contradict them. Oh well.
I was woke by Desiree the next day. "Up, up! Now! Singing time!" She shouted. I rubbed my eyes, but got up. "Sing Twinkle, Twinkle. NOW!" Desiree screamed. "What time is-" Desiree cut me off. "Walk down this hall to the studio. And sing it!" I followed her. "Twinkle, twinkle, little st-"
"LOUDER!"
I shivered as I walked. The occasional shout of 'Louder!' from Desiree killed my ears. When we got to the studio, I heard Desiree mutter, "Uh. Screeching voice." Then she told me to stand in front of her. "Sing. Stretch your voice, and don't just make annoying noises." I was scared. I was scared that Desiree didn't like me, and that she would be mean to me. That she thought my singing voice stank. Or is it stunk? Or stinked? Whatever. But in my heart, I knew that I had a great singing voice. Desiree wouldn't be as great as me in a million years.