Musashi Sez:
Well, I ben seein som stranj things sins I startd werkin fer Mysiz, but this stol the pie! Huh. All I’m tryin to do is sayv the sivilyzd werld from inpendin dooom, an suddinlee theez fellrs is tellin me they nu I wuz comin cuz som gy 500 yeerz ago left them a lettr about it. Reediklus!
An the annoyin kittee gy, this Gooroo fellr, he gots Alek all skeerd cuz he kin do the Schroeder’s cat thin, wher yu is both ther an not ther, which pertee much evree kittee kin do if we reellee wants to, but it tayk a lot of enerjee and then yu gots to nap fer dayz aftrwrds, so moslee we don’t bothr.
Aneewae, as we follrd Gooroo an his hoomin into the shryn, I sed to Alek, “Huh, this Yoda-fellr is pullin the ol’ Schroeder’s kittee trik, yu noe, lik in fhyziks. That don’t mayk him anee mor impressiv than anee othr kittee.”
Ther wuz a hiss from up on the old gy’z sholdr. The old gy led us into this innerestin ston room wift pillrz an a statchoo of a kittee peeple in a windo-lik thing in frunt.
“Hey!” I sez. “That’s Bastet! What she doin heer in Ceiling Cat’s shryn-plays?”
Alek seemd dayzd. He sat down on the ston bentch on the syd. Gooroo jumpt off the old gy’z sholdr an trotted awae, still huffin. The old gy sat next to Alek.
“Bye, Yoda!” I calld, to gives Alek confiddens. A small hiss travld bak to us in the echoz of the room.
Mom Says:
The old man stuck his hands up the grey sleeves of his robe and frowned. “Alas, Guru is impatient, as many of our order are. They…we…have been waiting long for these events to come to pass. But, as our founder would say, ‘If we’re going to be stuck here for 40 days and 40 nights, we might as well introduce ourselves.’ I am Brother Ian. And you, I believe are Octavian and Alexander.”
Octavian turned to Alek. “Hey, wer yu naymd aftr that littul gy whu tuk ovr almos the whol werld, lik centureez ago?”
“Er, yes, actually.”
“Cool! Altho, mai mom sez that werld dominayshun is hardlee evr reellee werth it.”
Brother Ian smiled. “Well said! And that brings me to what you are probably most interested in knowing.”
“O, gud! So wher mai frenz, Gatto an Perro an Sabaka? They heer wift yu?”
“Er, yes, actually, but don’t you want to know about your role as prophet and what Nostradoggus wrote about you?”
“O, no, not reellee, thx. Yu gots the rong gy. I not a profit. I’z a spy. But yu can’t tell aneebodee. OK? Is big seekret.”
“Er. That’s rather odd, you see. Because you do look quite like the drawing Nostradoggus dictated. ‘Of the semblance of Baysmint Catte, butte wifte thee markings of Ceilinge Catte.’”
Alek stirred. “How do you dictate a picture?”
Octavian said, “It’s that old thum problim. Whut, jus cuz I’z a blak kittee wift a littul whit heer an ther, yu figgr I’m the forechozn gy? That seem sillee. Yu mus get lotsa kitteez heer at the shryn. Probabul som of them gotta be moslee blak wift som whit.”
Brother Ian nodded, smiling. “Of course. But how many of them, do you think, were escorted here by a namesake of Alexander the Great? How many of them who were (assuming that there were more than one) came here four days after the coming of a cat in the likeness of Basement Cat and two dogs, one of whom spoke only Russian?”
“Ummm. Well, wen yu puts it lik that…” said Octavian.
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