AAOOOSC! #10

The next morning in Pittsburgh, there is no practice for the Penguins. So one would find Beau in his living room, sitting criss-crossed on the floor, staring up at the screen with his eyes glued on a video game and his hands glued on the controls.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, bring ‘em down, bring ‘em down, Beau bringin’ the house down!” His thumbs fly up and down the buttons as he tilts his upper body from side to side, slightly gaping.

Spikey appears from behind the sofa and stares at Beau’s back’s movements and the chaotic screen emitting bullet sounds, yells, and video game effect sounds.

Oh Beau, Spikey thinks, you’re still playing that game? You shouldn’t play it all day.

Spikey pads over to Beau and sits on his hind legs right next to him. He peers up at Beau, seeing if he would notice him. But Beau lets out a war cry and continues battling on.

Beau. Beau. Earth to Beau, Spikey tries to call him. “Miau. Miau. Miau-au” is all that comes out.
Beau still does not acknowledge his cat.

Spikey tries to groan. Oh Beau. Fine. He slowly gets back on his four paws, climbs on top his lap, and plops himself right on his folded legs.

Beau snaps out of his video game mode by making an odd look ahead of him; he peers down from the screen. He spots his cat blocking the space for his hands to bring the control down. “Oh, Spikey!” he calls out, pressing a button to pause the game. “Can you get off please?”

Spikey looks up at Beau. If you get off the TV. Play roller hockey with me-- It’ll help a lot for you in games. “Miau, miau, miau, miau.”

“Aw, come on, Spikey! I wanna play! I can’t play like this.”

Spikey just turns away from Beau. He does not move from his lap.

“Spikey, move you’re in a my way.”

Spikey does not move a muscle.

“Spiiiiiikeeeeey…,” Beau yammers in a sing-songs voice.

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rings.

Beau’s eyes immediately light up as he straightens his back. “Oh! That’s my pizza!” He attempts to get up, but of course there’s a cat on his legs.

Beau groans and cranes his head to look at the ceiling. “Where’s Bortz when you need him?”
He stares back down at Spikey. He then places the controller to aside, grabs the big, fluffy cat with two hands and puts him aside, then scrambles to his feet and rushes toward the entrance.

With his socks on the slippery wooden floor and the speed he is going, Beau slips as he approaches the door: His feet are knocked off from under him and he is thrown against the door with a loud THUMP!

“I’m fine, I’m fine…” Beau croaks as he peels himself from the door. He then opens the door like a normal person would.

On the other side is the pizza deliverer dressed in red and white, wearing a cap, with a cardboard box of fresh pizza in one hand. He has a flat look on his face.

“Oh, I should’ve known it was you,” the pizza deliverer says monotonously. “You always take too long.”

Beau leans against the door jamb. “Sorry, my cat wouldn’t get off of me.”

The pizza deliverer’s eyes flick up beyond Beau’s eye level. “So that’s how you resolve it?”

Beau’s eyes slide up to see what the other man is seeing. He sees a line of white, familiar fuzz at the top of his vision. He then paws the top of his head, feeling the familiar touch of Spikey.

“Hey, Spikey, what are you doing on my head?” He brings his cat back down into his him. “Silly cat!”

I was trying to tell you that pizza is not good for you, Spikey tries to tell him. But all that comes out is, “Miau…”

With his other hand, Beau takes the pizza, fishes out the tip, and hands it over to the pizza deliverer. “Thanks!” He then strolls back inside, closing the door with his foot.

And that is what Beau has for lunch: pizza. And Spikey? Salad, as usual. You’ll never find Spikey eating pizza red-handed!

Notes