affame_le_geant_eighth_life fyn gula it was during the time that saumboo was collecting some assemblance of order to the announcement, declaration, and calculated presentation of potentilla's cold-blooded murder and dead body, that the autopsy, performed by a non-blind (he was cured by laser surgery) mole that sipped a dopio con panna and wore duarte, revealed the cause of death as hemorrhage. she was brave to the end. courageux u la fin. it was also apparent at this very time that the fiery, on your heels pursuit of meeterskeeter by crispy and the jackpack was only a little short this side of miraculous. nothing this conniving catster attempted as parley worked. even his tricks (oil skids, explosives, and booby traps) all failed miserably. as result, meetersketer lost his eighth life. he was about to enter number nine. it is written in the book of kemuyl, that, "when a cat is about to commence its final life, the heavy, burgundy velvet curtain between worlds is pushed open, light streams in and gently becomes the bridge to the other side. the cat ceremoniously ascends to a curious room where the completion of its life is discussed. usually, the cat accepts and it returns from whence it came." however, meeterskeeter, having lost his eighth life was not ready to accept for he sensed unequivocally that not only was there absent the hope of diplomatic relations with the jackpack, (they were slash and burn commandoes with noses full of feline testosterone and the smell of fear.) the negogiations meeterskeeter needed would be carried out with the leaders of gattox (this dimension between worlds) who alone had the power to alter his destiny, but also he realized by returning to kemulya, his ninth life would be snuffed out by the jackpack in a superflous display of savagery and the emblamatic wearing of his blood on their white muzzles. behold what curious rooms meeterskeeter entered to discuss his immediate future. mlle. bisquit-kneider's office of transposition was located at the end of a long tunnel of simplicity hanging roses, bright with blossom and saturated with fragrance cascading over a trellice of soft pine painted forest green and white, the colour of priviledge. walking in, meeterskeeter scanned the scene and found it much to his liking and very beautiful with furniture from 'out of africa.' a cushion of which he could not resist. he hopped up to her desk and offered a throaty meow. "i need transposed," he said, quickly washing at his back. "like now." 011206 what's it to you? who go blather from