PUSSIES POLLYWOGS AND POLITICAL POLTOONERY

I slid down the banister yelling, "Big Chief Rain In The Face." I have never liked Geronimo since the day he scalped my bald Grandfather and stole his bag of brandy balls. I put the handbrake on the banister and peeped into my living room. Something was-wrong, something just wasn't-right, something was-missing. It was me, so I did a cart wheel and landed in the middle of the room. I looked around by using my eyes and swiveling my neck. Over in the corner, Tommy my cat had a small mouse by the throat and was yelling into its face, "Are you now, or have you ever been a member of the Communist party?" "Unhand that rodent," I yelled "that is Bertie, a lifelong member of the Alliance party. I have often seen Bertie and David Ford together discussing policy." "Sorry mate," said Tommy, putting little Bertie down and dusting him off, "can't be too careful these days. The reds are on the march again, threatening the very fabric of our free, Democratic society." "Shut up, Senator McCarthy," I yelled, "since you became the only other member in Bob McCartney's party, there has been no putting up with you." "Bob's the man." yelled Tommy. "Bob will built this country up again. A vote for Bob, is a vote for--Bob McCartney." "Shut your yapper Tommy," I screamed, "I have lost something, something very dear to me. I had it in my hand a minute ago and-now I can't find it anywhere."
Tommy sauntered over to a poof, shooed him off the chair and sat down.Tommy picked up the Bombay Times, crossed one furry leg over the other and said. "This-thing you have lost, what does it look like?" I ran up stairs for my teeth, bit my lip and stammered, "It's just a little-plaything that's all. It's pink and furry, just a little plaything that I use for relieving stress." "Aa-Ha," said Tommy, "just a little-plaything?" Then Tommy leaped to his feet and screamed, "Do you think I'm stupid? I know what that little furry plaything is. Its the trigger for a HYDROGEN BOMB that you bought on eBay last week for £5.59!" "Is it?" I yelled ."I had no idea, I thought it was just a little, pink, furry thing." "LIAR," screamed Tommy, "and I also know about the gigantic hydrogen bomb that you constructed in the tool shed. What's going on?" yelled Tommy, "come on, spit it out, you old reprobate of a rat bag!" "It's true," I shrieked, "I want a hydrogen bomb. I want to be a super power. Everyone has them, the Americans, the British, the French, the Indians and Pakistans. If Iran gets a hydrogen bomb before me, I'll me mortified. Please let me have a bomb Tommy, please-please, I swear I'll never ask for anything else. Please let me have a bomb Tommy, please-please-please!" Tommy put his hands on his slim hips and looked at me with disgust and puss in his yellow, slitted, feline eyes. "Well, well, well," said Tommy, "so you want to be a -super power? You want to join the arms race? You want to own a nuclear bomb?" "Yes Tommy," I pleaded "that's all. I just want to be-accepted. I want to make new nuclear friends. I never had any friends at school, because of my chronic BO and my habit of biting people."Tommy stood with his hands behind his back and thought. Then he said, "If I do let you have this nuclear bomb-and I haven't said yes yet, do you promise not to let it off?" "YES Tommy, yes, yes." I yelled "I only want the bomb for a deterrent. I mean when you think of it, its just like a girl carrying pepper spray or Mace isn't it?" "Well--all right" said Tommy, "but there are conditions. You must look after the nuclear bomb. You must keep it spick and span. If you don't," said Tommy, "don't expect me to look after it and you must also remember, that a nuclear bomb, like a little puppy, is not just for Christmas, it's for life." "I promise Tommy," I said, "I promise, I'll look after that massive nuclear bomb better than any nuclear bomb was ever looked after." I lowered my voice and whispered, "I have heard in nuclear circles that the Americans never dust their nuclear bombs.""Tut-Tut," said Tommy "that's the Americans for you, they put all the new, shiny stuff in the shop window, but God only knows what their store room is like." Later, after a light supper of pollywogs on toast, Tommy helped me to install the pink, fluffy nuclear trigger. Now, we could sleep content. Tommy and I were a nuclear power. No one would mess with us now. I was leaving very positive feedback on eBay for the man who sold me the little, pink, fluffy, nuclear trigger, when Tommy stuck his head round the door and said. "Oh bye the bye, the clocks go back on Saturday night, so you will have to get up at two o'clock and reset the timing clock on the bomb.". "SIR, yes-SIR," I yelled leaping to my feet. Oh how we laughed. "Tommy," I whispered, "are you awake?" "Yes," whispered Tommy. "I just want to thank you Tommy," I said, "I just want to thank you for letting me keep the nuclear bomb." "No probs," said Tommy "Now go to your bed and get your beauty sleep. We don't want you scaring the milkman again.". "How is Bert?" I whispered. "Still climbing the walls," whispered Tommy, "but his jibbering has greatly reduced in volume.". "Good," I whispered, "I like Bert."
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