Tag Archives: cats

Motley Microfiction: Carl and The Quest for the Holy Grail

When Sir Galahad arrived at Castle Pembley in search of the Holy Grail, they directed him to the kitchen.

“The puss needed something to eat ‘is fish from,” explained the scullery maid. “No ‘un was using it, so I nicked it for Carl.”

Sure enough, the word Carl was carved into the sacred cup’s base.

“Sacrilege!” cried Sir Galahad, and he reached for his sword. But he underestimated the power of the Grail. Years of meals eaten from the blessed chalice had bestowed Carl with seventy times seven lives.

Now Arthur’s looking for another MacGuffin to send his knights after.

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Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Great movie, but why no Tale of Sir Carl? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This one’s somewhat based on a true story. Last week, I hit the thrift shops with a close friend of mine, and for some reason we kept running across grails. Big grails like trophies. Small grails, like a child princess might drink out of. And one grail belonging to someone named Carl.

I have no idea who Carl is, and why he has a grail with his name engraved on it. Was Carl a person? Was he a great Knight whose deeds have gone unsung in the annals of history?

Maybe, just maybe, he was a cat.

If Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade has taught me anything, it’s that drinking out of the Holy Grail gives you a magic healing factor, kind of like Wolverine of the X-Men (not to be confused with the XXX-Men). But Carl’s been eating Fancy Feast out of the Holy Grail for years. That’s got to do something for his nine lives. I bet he’s basically immortal by now.

Don’t you dare touch his Grail.

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever found at a thrift shop?

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Motley Microfiction: The Last Temptation of Ginger

“The Last Temptation of Ginger”

On the rooftop, Satan sighed. By contract, he had to do this with anyone claiming godhood, but this was getting ridiculous. “Ginger,” he said, “if you’re God, throw yourself from the rooftop.”

The feline washed her paws.

“You’ve got to pick one. Either jump or refuse,” Satan explained.

Ginger ignored him. She never followed directions.

Satan glanced surreptitiously at the sky, then produced a laser pointer. Ginger leaped after the red dot. “MRRRRRROOOoooooowwww!” She plummeted twenty storeys down.

Satan chuckled. “Works every time.”

But behind him, he heard a sound. A meow. He turned. His eyes widened. “Oh my God!”

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English: A picture of my orange tabby cat Ging...

Today I’m taking a break from the medical-themed pieces to bring you this little story, written for the Drabblecast’s weekly microfiction contest. The theme was “Test of Faith”, and this is what I came up with.

Cats, as we all know, believe they’re divine. Given the sheer number of cats in the world, the odds are that for one cat out there, it’s got to be a fact and not just narcissism. The test of faith is not the cat’s; the cat already knows it’s divine. It’s poor Beelzebub who must confront his own presuppositions.

Then again, maybe cats are just really, really good at throwing themselves off of rooftops. Satan needs a new litmus test.

Having tested the patience of the divine with that nasty laser pointer trick, I have to wonder what happens next. What do you think the punishment’s going to be? More importantly, has anyone else’s cat performed a miracle or two that we should all know about?