Legos and Trolls

5.2K 169 117
                                    

Over 1,300 views? Wow, that is....that is absolutely amazing. I want to thank you all for reading and supporting the story, along with the votes and comments. It means so much to me that this story is as popular as it is and that people are enjoying it! Thank you all! (Rest of Author's note is below!)

-----

If I ever said that Scone and Pinot were bad, I take it back. Zeus and Kedi would not stop fighting last night. I was woken up by the two knocking everything off the coffee table and the dining room table. Thankfully, nothing was broken, but I was peeved nonetheless. It happened at two in the morning I didn't go back to sleep until an hour later, after giving the cats a good scolding. Despite me not wanting to leave the stuff on the floor, I went to bed anyway. So here I am cleaning up their mess and cleaning the kitchen and living room. Actually, I was finishing up dusting in the living room, removing the cat hair that had apparently balled up in the corner. I gagged a few times. 80's music was blasting in the background, mixing with a few 70's here and there. Scone really enjoyed the British rock music, and Bucky got hyped up and it was almost like he was dancing around my feet. I moved around, dancing and lip-syncing flamboyantly along with Culture Club, Toto, Styx, and some other great classics. Cyndi Lauper came on and I really went all out with the insanity. I used the broom as a microphone.

"And girls...they want to have fuu-UN!" I sang to Bucky, who was meowing happily at me. The cats were either watching this play out, or like Gino and Churro were scurrying around my feet and bouncing around me. I picked up Luigi and started singing to him. He was obviously impressed, but didn't try running away.

"When the working day is done, oh, girls, they want to have fu-un!" I grinned at Luigi, giving him a small peck on his head as I set him down. He looked as though he scowled and hid his face under a pillow. I giggled. I heard knocking on the door. I turned the music down and walked to the door. "HELLO!?" I said gleefully. No one was there. I looked around and went to step out, my foot landed on something. I looked down and I raised my eyebrows, I bent down and picked it up. "Huh?" It was an old, stained, baseball bat with nails sticking out of it. "I told you kids not to play baseball-YEOWCH!" I felt a sharp pain hit my shoulder and I immediately dropped the bat. I felt really woozy and my head started spinning and I felt to the ground, seeing a pair of boots. I blacked out after I saw someone pick up the bat.

---------

I felt like someone had beaten me with a rock. A very sharp rock. On my head. I groaned opening my eyes, taking in what was around me. The shade from my porch shielded me from the blazing sun, I realized several hours had passed since this morning. I felt a wave go through my arms and I could sit up, still feeling aches everywhere. I looked down and scowled, pulling out a dart from a tranquilizer. "When I get my hands on the wise guy who did this-" I heard a crash coming from the house. I hobbled up and threw myself to the door, which had been left open. Music was still blaring inside, and you're not helping Van Halen. I carefully opened the desk drawer and grabbed a spare pistol and began "spy-sneaking" to the kitchen. The house was an absolute mess, a fight had obviously went down in here. The pillows were all thrown from the couch, the CD stand had been knocked over with CDs all over the room. The chairs were knocked over from the dining room table and the end table was knocked over, along with a couple lamps. I was able to see into the kitchen, food was everywhere. I heard things being messed with and I cocked my gun as quietly as I could. In a flash, I turned and pointed my gun at the noise.

"WHAT THE WHAT?" I cried out in fury. There wasn't anything in here. Then, I heard a meow. I looked down and saw something moving underneath the bottles of ketchup and mustard, with tuber-ware of leftovers. I cleared the room and went to my knees and began moving the food. A small cat with a dark round circle around its eye slowly poked its head out, his fur was stained red and yellow. He meowed sadly. I felt my heartbreak and quickly scooped up the cat and tried to soothe it. He seemed to calm down and gently nestled its head into my embrace. He wore an Icelandic bandana, with Leif embroidered on the side. I heard some more moving around, and I readied my gun, tightly holding the cat in my arm. A few other cats came out from around the corner. They all stared at me, one moving up and hissing at me, the white, shaggy looking one. The little cat in my arm meowed at them, but made no effort to move. I groaned.

A House Full of Company!Where stories live. Discover now