Greg Gumshoe: Private Eye - Chapter 3

Third prompt.
Give me some comedy relief by having a scene that describes a funny accident involving a cat.  The emphasis here is on comedy relief. Do not badly hurt the cat or the character.
If you can't use a cat for whatever reason, you may substitute another humorous situation, but that is only a last ditch recourse.
Remember to highlight the prompt words/phrases in bold, or ALL CAPITALS, or color.
Due on or before 02/06/10 11:59PM WDC time.

genres: romance/love, detective, comedy

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Greg Gumshoe: Private Eye
Chapter 3: "Kibbles and Bits - of Cat"

By Indelibleink

(Author's Disclaimer: In an effort to acquiesce to the wishes of the
moderator of this contest, no cats were in harmed in any manner during
the writing of this fictional piece. However, in an effort to properly
visualize the dramatic aspects of this story, it was necessary
to place a cat in perilous danger. Rest assured that this was not a
"real" pretend cat, but, in reality, a professional stunt-pygmy in a cat-
suit. A representative of PETA was on hand to witness all cat-related
writing, and, upon request, will furnish evidence that no cat was harmed
at any time - although I may have been warned once or twice.
                                                    -    Indelibleink        )

As the door to Gumshoe's office opened ever-wider, Greg turned to his lovely client who lay beside him on the floor. "Shhhhhhh..." Greg implored. Unfortunately, Babs was suffering from tinnitus and couldn't hear him, so the result was predictable.

"What...I can't hear you. Speak up!" She said it loud enough to wake the dead.

Keeping his eyes on the door, Greg drew his weapon with his right hand, and with his left, tried to find Babs's big mouth. He came up a bit short - or hit the jackpot depending on your point of view - as his hand found one of Babs's breasts instead.

"Watch it, pal, you're not at a strip club, you know!" This was even louder than her last statement, which forced Greg to take his eyes off the door - which had stopped moving - and make eye contact with Babs. He spoke in the faintest of whispers.

"Sorry, but you need to be quiet! Whoever's behind that door may want to kill us - or worse!"

"All right! I'll be quiet. Now, will you take your hand off my boob? You're cutting off circulation."

Now realizing why he had felt all "warm and fuzzy inside" in spite of potentially residing on death's doorstep, Greg muttered a sheepish, "I'm sorry," and returned his focus on the door.

The few seconds Greg had spent focusing on Babs's boobs (say that fast ten times) may have been fatal, as he turned just in time to see something that had been lurking close to the ground come through the doorway and lunge right at them. Greg aimed his piece toward the imposing figure and fired three shots in rapid succession. There was a screech from the general direction of the intruder, followed by an even louder scream from Babs.

"You fool. You stupid, incompetent fool. You just shot Stevens!" Both of them still laying prone on the floor, she began to flail her fists in the general direction of Gumshoe. She wasn't making much contact, but he did enjoy observing all of the "jiggle" action that her attack was generating. A couple more good swings, and both boobs might be free at last from the confines of that restrictive blue suit! "How could you shoot Stevens, you murderer?"

"Who the heck is 'Stevens', Babs? And, just a minor side-note, but shouldn't his name be 'Steven', since we're talking singular and not plural?"

Babs shook her head vigorously, which had a "ripple" effect down her body. Almost showtime! "Stevens is - or should I say was - my kitty. He must have have followed me here, all the way from the cave where I was held captive for all those years. And you killed him! I hate you! I want a different detective. You're fired!"

Greg looked at the distraught Babs and thought that now would be a good time for some "damage control," but the truth was, now he had a few questions of his own! Everything just didn't seem to add up.

"I want to make sure I understand this, so please, Babs, bear with me. First of all, you had a cat named 'Stevens'. You had 'cat Stevens'? Babs nodded her affirmation. "And 'cat Stevens' followed you all the way - all by himself - from some cave in Afghanistan?" Again, she nodded positively. "And I suppose 'Stevens' hopped the first available camel that came along to start the journey?" This time, Babs spread apart her arms and shrugged, in an 'I-don't know' fashion. "And that cat I shot at was just a 'normal-sized' house cat?" Babs was back to nodding 'yes'. "That cat I shot at was huge, Babs. To be honest, that looked more like a pygmy in a cat-suit. How do you explain that?"

"P.E.T.A.? Or...Maybe a real stickler/cat-lover for a contest moderator?"

"Possible, but I doubt it. Nobody'd ever believe it. But one last thing: If I shot your beloved 'cat Stevens', where's the body? I mean, the term 'blown away' doesn't literally mean 'blown away into thin air', Babs. Where's the kitty corpse?"

Just then, there was a loud "meow" that came from above Greg and Babs, who, for some inexplicable reason, were still laying prone on the floor behind the desk. (It just may be that the author had forgotten to have the two get up earlier). Anyway, up they sprang at the sound of the feline, only to find a cat sitting atop Greg's desk.

Babs's eyes widened like balloons taking in helium. "Cat Stevens! You're alive!" She hugged the kitty, then hugged Greg. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Just dandy. I want to know how the thing went from being the size of Bigfoot down to the size of a, well, normal-sized cat."

"Probably switched it out with the stunt-double while we were inexplicably under the office desk for so long."

Without any apparent reason, the cat then jumped off of the desk and out the office door.

"Cat Stevens! Come back," Babs cried.

"Don't worry...the cat is safer than either of us for the rest of this story," Greg reassured her. "You know, P.E.T.A. and all..."   

"Good point"

Just then, the pair heard a car door open, and a bunch of men speaking in a foreign language - possibly Arabic. Greg moved to the office window and saw five men getting out of a limo, and approaching the entrance to the office building that housed Greg's detective agency. Greg gave Babs a concerned look.

"A bunch of guys in nightgowns headed our way! Close the door, kill the lights, and meet me on the floor behind the desk!" Greg, in the meantime, grabbed a bunch of ammo, and loaded his gun. Couldn't kill the cat, but might be able to make up for it next chapter! He dove to the floor to join Babs, who had also brought some magazines and a flashlight to kill time in case she spent all of Chapter four down there, too. And, oh yeah, as she got down on the floor, more of her business suit tore.

The foreign voices were heard getting off of the elevator, and were getting louder as they approached the office of Greg Gumshoe. Suddenly the voices stopped, and - Good Lord...You'd think that at some point they'd consider locking the damn door!

The office door started to slowly open...

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word count: 1176      cumulative: 3044