Poor thing

You wake when you hear the old lady coming back, and look up (up?) to see her walking in rubbing her head. "Thank Grace! That burglar has left. Looks like he even left the pie... oh, you poor kitty, you got into it. Oh well, that was an experimental recipe anyway. Let's have look at you."

As she lifts you off the floor, you realize that you've turned into a white Persian cat. One with a colossal stomachache.

Written by Oberon (edited by wanderer)

You protest
just kidding

Add your own new page to the story!

Back to the parent page

(This page has not yet been checked by the maintainers of this site.)