Owl And Pussycat

© 20134 David Jasmin-Green

“Oh, bugger,” Pussycat said as he finished counting the pile of assorted change he had shaken onto the kitchen table from the battered old sweet jar that he kept at the bottom of his dirty sock basket where he thought no self respecting burglar would look. “I remember the good times when we always had two or three hundred quid stashed away for emergencies, but times are hard. Right now we've got four pounds thirty six pence between us and utter destitution, and it's nearly a fortnight until pay day. What are we gonna do, Owl?”

“I dunno, Pussycat, I really don't,” Owl replied. “I guess we could flog the kids for genetic research, they must be worth a couple of hundred quid a piece to a sufficiently mad scientist who doesn't realise the damned nuisance that Owl/Pussycat hybrids can be. Young Alan is always flying up onto the roof and slinging loose slates at the neighbours, I'm convinced that Derrick is selling crack in the alleyway behind Tesco, and as for little Helen, well, she looks like sugar wouldn't melt in her mouth, but the less I say about her the better.

We could sell your mother into the slave trade, she's in pretty good nick for a seventy two year old albino Siamese, so we might find a nice cat loving Arab willing to pay a small fee for her. Or I could deck you out in my leopard print miniskirt and that gold sequinned boob-tube that you bought me for Christmas and send you to the local red light district to swing your handbag for a while. I doubt if we'll find any sexy high heels to fit you, so you'll have to wear your wellies. I reckon your sexual favours are worth ooh, I dunno, at least fifty pence a go.....”

“Can't you take anything seriously?”

“Nope. If you take life too seriously like you do, Pussycat, it slowly but surely eats you alive from the inside out. Why can't you look on the bright side? We're healthy, and so are the kids – shit, look at the amount of vermin they catch. The bills are all paid, there's plenty of food in the larder and what we don't have we'll have to do without. I'd thank God for small mercies if I were you, you ungrateful pillock. The only essentials we have to buy between now and pay day are bread and milk. Oh, we're almost out of tinned cat food, I suppose we'll have to buy a few tins of that because you refuse to eat mice on toast every day like the rest of us.”

“Our measly savings won't last us five minutes, Owl, and you know it. I'll have to walk to work instead of catching the number 18 bus to Bigglesworth via Endnobble, I'll have to ask my boss at the custard factory for some overtime, I'll have to cancel my weekly night out on the piss until further notice. I might even have to sell my signed photograph of Justin Beaver.....”

“You can't do that, you daft fat divvy! Look, if you're that worried about money we'll have to go to sea in a beautiful pea green boat again. Going to sea in a beautiful pea green boat is the last thing I want, believe me, but if it's the only way of making a few bob I suppose we have no choice.”

“Remind me what a beautiful pea green boat is, I seem to have forgotten.”

“It's a boat that's pea green and rather beautiful, you moron,” Owl grunted.

“And what's sea?”

“It's a big, wibbly-wobbly wet thing made of water, and it's full of fish.”

“Can we take some honey and plenty of money wrapped up in a five pound note?”

“We're out of honey, Pussycat, and we only have four pounds thirty six pence, remember?”

Oh, yes. Can we take lots of potassium nitrate, sulphur and charcoal, mix our own black powder and build a battery of cannons? Can we say 'ha-haar' a lot and hobble around the deck on pretend wooden legs? Can I wear an eye patch and get a parrot that says 'pieces of eight' so often you want to slice it in two with your cutlass? Can I? Can we make John Prescott walk the plank, bury all our treasure on a remote desert island under a gigantic letter X and become kings of the seven seas?”

“No, we won't have time to fanny around dressing up as pirates, we have to get back before the kids come home from school.”

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“Right,” Pussycat said some time later. “We're at sea in a beautiful pea green boat – I know that because the boat type thing that we're sitting in and I am apparently steering is pea green and rather beautiful, and it's got 'Beautiful Pea Green Boat' scrawled across the side in poncey copperplate letters. Oh, and the huge, wibbly-wobbly wet thing beneath us is full of fish, I can see them jumping in and out of the waves. You still have some explaining to do though, Owl, to compensate for my unfortunate memory loss and severe information storage problems caused, perhaps, by my mother dropping me on my head when I was a kitten.....

How exactly did we get here, wherever here is? I recall leaving the house and jumping on a number 29 bus to Crinkle Bottom via Somewhere Or Other, but after that my mind's a complete blank. Only fifteen minutes have passed since we were sitting in our kitchen counting a pile of change, though we live many hundreds of miles from the coast - that doesn't make sense, and as a result I'm experiencing terrible panic and confusion.”

“You're such a cretin, Pussycat. Quick, swing to the right to avoid that Porpoise! We can't afford the compensation if you hit it..... The bus we boarded was a magic bus, you great, steaming wally, and we used our magic bus passes so we didn't have to break into our severely limited funds. The bus was fitted with an antiquated fairy built version of a Star Trek warp drive, thus only fifteen minutes have passed on your cheap wristwatch, but we've travelled a bloody long way. I've told you all this a million times during our previous trips to the sea in various beautiful pea green boats, but you just don't listen, do you?”

“I'm sorry, Owl, basically I'm a silly old Pussycat. What happened when we reached the coast, and where did we get this beautiful pea green boat?”

“When we reached the coast we got off the magic bus and followed a hand-painted sign that said 'Beautiful Pea Green Boats For Hire'. We wandered onto a big barnacle encrusted jetty, one of several in the vicinity, then we sought out a friendly looking beautiful pea green boat hire assistant with a nice beard who led us to a large selection of boats to choose from. 'I want this bugger!' you squealed.”

“I see..... Did we have to spend our four pounds thirty six pence to hire this beautiful pea green boat which, incidentally, is all we have in the world?”

“No, you lemon! We used our beautiful pea green boat pass, thus avoiding payment. Well, sort of. We pay a small monthly sum out of your wages direct debit, Pussycat, so that we can jump on a beautiful pea green boat more or less whenever the fancy takes us, whether it be once a year, ten times a year or five hundred and sixty nine zillion times a year. Is that brilliant, or what?”

“It's brilliant, Owl, it's quite brilliant. So why are we here? You said, and I quote, ' If you're that worried about money we'll have to go to sea in a beautiful pea green boat again. Going to sea in a beautiful pea green boat is the last thing I want, believe me, but if it's the only way of making a few bob I suppose we have no choice.' How exactly is going to sea in a beautiful pea green boat going to help us out of our current financial quandary?”

“Because, my fine Pussycat, we're going fishing, but we shan't be fishing for any old fish, that's a bleeding mug's game. In another few minutes it'll be time to lower our net, and we'll be fishing for Giant Golden Prawns, which can only be found at one blessed spot in the whole wide world. Giant Golden Prawns sell for a small fortune in certain posh restaurants, I'll 'ave you know.....”

“I see.”

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“Haul in the net, Pussycat, we're off to the seafood sales dock just a short ride down the coast from the big barnacle encrusted jetty to weigh in our catch.”

“Righty ho, Owl. This net weighs a flipping ton! I'm going to have to use this confounded, new-fangled mechanical winch type thing, I can't possibly haul in such a monstrous catch by Pussycat power alone. I think I'll press the button marked 'lift'.”

“That's what it's sodding well for. Wahaay! The net's full to bursting point, laddie matey boy, we're a bloody rich Owl and Pussycat!”

“That's what I like to hear, Owl, my clever, utterly fantastical spouse.”

“I'd sing a celebratory sea shanty if I knew any. I know, you hum the Captain Pugwash theme and I'll do a nifty little maritime jig.”

“Deee-diddly-di diddly-di di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di, diddly-di diddly-di di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di, diddly-di diddly-di di-di-di-di-di-di-di, di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-di-dum-dum!”

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“Owl, how are we going to carry this huge sack of fifty quid notes home?” Pussycat said a while later as he sipped tea on the deck of the beautiful pea green boat, which was tied firmly to a weathered post at the edge of the seafood sales dock. “It's far too big to fit on the luggage rack on the number 29 bus to Crinkle Bottom via Somewhere Or Other.”

“We'll borrow the beautiful pea green boat hire assistant's truck when we get back to the big barnacle encrusted jetty, you silly old moo,” Owl replied, looking at her beloved pussy in disbelief. “We'll drive to the NatWest in Bangor, it's only a few miles from the big barnacle encrusted jetty, bank our earnings and then we'll come back and catch the bus home.”

“Oh Owl, you're so clever! I'd forgotten all about the machinations of the banking system, you'll have to explain what goes on in banks and what bastards bankers are on the way, because basically I'm a forgetful old Pussycat.”

“I don't see why not, lovely Pussy, oh Pussy my love, what a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, what a beautiful Pussy you are.”