13.......

Continued.......

“I’ve had a wonderful evening,” said Groucho Marx to his hostess as he was leaving a dull Hollywood party, “but this wasn’t it!”



Marta and Genghis were lying on the sofa; she watching the Open, he sleeping with his nose tucked neatly under his tail. (Genghis preferred snooker. He liked to watch the balls roll across the TV screen, and often wandered round the back to see where they'd gone.)

'It's Friday night, Genghi,' said Marta suddenly, 'and we're at home watching golf, instead of having a wild night out.'

Genghis opened one eye. Speak for yourself love, he thought, I'm off out later. There's a mouse under the rhubarb next door.

'When did this become the norm,' continued Marta, 'staying in at the weekend? Drinking tea instead of cocktails?'

Genghis wasn't entirely sure what a cocktail was. He yawned, suggesting she move the conversation on a bit.

'Oh dear, Tiger's in the rough again.' said Marta, going back to the golf. 'Mind you, he's never been the same since picking up all those injuries.'

Genghis' whiskers twitched. Call me bitchy, he purred, but he's never been the same since his wife chased him down the drive with a five iron.

'I know,' Marta tapped the cat's tail with the TV remote, 'I'll have a birthday party! That'll be fun.'

Genghis sighed. That meant lots of screechy women, sitting on his sofa, and calling him 'fluffy boy'. He stretched extravagantly and jumped off the sofa. Well, I'm not staying in tonight, he decided. I'm going to give it large with next door's mouse. And if I can find one of those cocktail thingies, I'll be all over that an' all.....