Catawampus – A Short Story

In just a few short minutes my life went from neat and orderly to a catawampus mess…all because of an actual cat.

Not just any old regular cat though. NO! This ferocious feline was a tiny, terrifying tyrant. Oh sure, she looked sweet and adorable at the shelter with her big greenish gold eyes looking so innocent and her soft fur so well coiffed. As soon as I came into view of her kennel the little actress started up, mewling and purring and looking deep into my soul….of course I took her home immediately!

At first she snuggled her soft, warm body into the crook of my arm and accompanied through a Netflix bender. I guess she got bored with the movie after I fell asleep though because I woke up to see her nibbling on my leftover burrito. Within seconds something changed though and suddenly there was a MONSTER destroying my pillows.

My once soft and sweet siamese must have been a secret Gremlin! Sharp nails and teeth tore at everything in sight. Fluff and saw dust covered what used to be my seating area, cords were quickly clipped, torn, and frayed, and my shelf of ceramic Care Bears was teetering dangerously in no time.

I tried to stop the madness, I really did, but as soon as I moved, she turned glowing eyes in my direction and hissed. There’s not way I’m getting my security deposit back now!

I guess that’s what I get for naming her Gizmo. Next time I think I’ll get a nice big dog instead!


The artificial light glinted off of broken ceramic jars and shiny green jellybeans as the gremlin cackled and stuffed his face with jellybeans in the corner, his bumpy head and fuzzy ears almost disappearing in the mound of candy.

In the room’s center, kneeling amid the rubble and chaos, the poor shop boy shivered and clutched a small wooden chest on which a broken lock testified to the earlier happenings of the day.

“BOY! I left you in charge for twenty minutes and the shop is ruined! What happened?” Uncle Sal came barreling in the dangling glass door, barely avoiding being hit as the precariously hinged pieces finished separating. “OH MY EYE! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH THAT THING! Why would you unlock the box??”

“I…I…” Jeremy could do nothing but babble and point to the thing in the corner, still gobbling up green jellybeans and glass together.

“Yes, he’s a Gremlin. Useless boy.” Uncle Sal kicked debris out of his way as he walked over to the offending area, “ClickLock!” He announced to the gremlin (At least that’s what it sounded like to Jeremy) “It is good to see you my old friend!”

“And I you,” The Gremlin (ClickLock?), said in perfect English, “Though I wish that this were not how we met again!”

“No, I suppose we won’t get much time to catch up,” Uncle Sal sighed and glared at Jeremy once again, “I’m sorry, I thought I had explained the importance of that box to my nephew, but he’s a dunderhead.”

“IT WASN’T ME!” Jeremy finally came to himself enough to tire of his uncle’s accusations. “There was a pair of oddly dressed men, one super tall and one very short, that came in here in capes and ball caps. The tall one spun around the room for a minute with a fish locator, pointed at the secret wall, and crowed like raven or something. Then the short one shot a laser at the wall, pulled the box through, popped the lid, and ran off with whatever was inside…then your little scaly friend there (ClickLock? I DON’T KNOW HIS NAME!) Came through and they had a firefight at the door. I don’t remember much after that, someone hit me with the box and I just sort of sat there until now.”

“That’s the most he’s moved in an hour,” ClickLock confided to Sal, “And he’s right, about the firefight at least. But now we have to go find those mooks who took our genie.”

“A GENIE?” Jeremy groaned, “I must be sleeping.”

“Nope,” Uncle Sal grinned, “You’re Driving!”