Barbarian at the Gate

LILY: Drat! Pinklepurr's on the loose again. Come, we must guard the back door.

BJ: Just a minute. I'm trying to reach the ping-pong ball. I...batted...it...under...the...sofa...and...I...can't...get...it.

LILY: Never mind that. I'll command our slaves to fetch it when they return.

BJ: What will I play with in the meantime? Mum and Dad won't be home for another 999,736 hours.

LILY: We shall play with Pinklepurr's mind. Here he comes now. Sauntering across the top of our fence. He thinks he owns the whole neighbourhood.

BJ: Well, he does get out more than we do. For all we know, he could be the feline equivalent of Donald Trump.

LILY: Pinkie has better fur than Trump, I'll give him that. But I won't concede our backyard. Hiss! Did you see that? He leaped onto my outdoor setting! If he puts one scratch on that table, why, I'll...I'll... Hiss!

BJ (mewing softly): Is he even looking at us? I think he's got his eye on that big fat spider on the wall.

LILY: Hiss, BJ, for goodness' sake. He's only pretending to ignore us. We're defending our territory here. Oh, if only I had a five-carat pink diamond so I could cut a hole in this glass. I'd saunter out there and swish my tail angrily, I would. Heck, I'd even swipe at him!

BJ (backing away): Lily, I think it's time you saw someone about your anger issues. Remember the psychologist Mum and Dad took me to when I had separation anxiety? I think she could help you. Why don't we go have a nap? Or we could put our tails to good use and dust our bedroom. Won't that be fun?

LILY: I see it is up to me to hold the fort. Scamper away if you must. Scat. I will face the enemy alone.

PINKLEPURR:

LILY: Ahhhhhh!!!!! Run!

The Language Barrier

LILY: Je voudrais une plus grande chambre.

BJ: Que?

LILY (flatly): "I would like a bigger room." You haven't studied the French phrasebook like I asked.

BJ: You're not the boss of me, Lily. I'm real smart about this "expanding our minds" kick. I've found a way to watch TV and learn a language at the same time.

LILY: But we're supposed to be learning the same language--preferably conversational French.

BJ: I want to learn Spanish. I've learnt so much from Go Diego Go and Dora the Explorer already. Listen--Voy a comprar cigarros. No tengo ninguno.

LILY: Meaning?

BJ: "I am going to buy cigarettes. I haven't any."

LILY: Merde! You don't even smoke. Plus, there's no way I'm letting you spend all our pocket money on that stuff.

BJ: I have an idea. Why don't I speak to you in Spanish, and you talk back in French? What do you say?

LILY: El gato loco is what I say.

BJ: Habla español?!!! You've been holding out on me, Lily.

LILY: Only to amuse myself.

Later...

LILY: Bonsoir, V! We would like to dine now. Vous me comprenez? Do you understand?

BJ: Hola, V! I'm Diego. This is Baby Jaguar. And we're animal rescuers. Can you say rescate?

LILY: Ooh, I think she had salmon sushi for lunch. I'll give her an air kiss so I can get a closer whiff. Oui, poisson! Quelle odeur douce!

BJ: Poison?!

LILY: I said fish in French. Silly. Get a look at yourself in the mirror. You're white as a ghost.

BJ: Si. Pescados. Mmm. She's getting the food out. Let's go see what she's serving tonight, Lily. ¡Vámonos!

Stormy Weather

Day two of solitary confinement for BJ and Lily...

LILY: ..and so when polynominals are homogenous, we come to a non-zero conclusion--

BJ: OMG, do you hear that? Thunder!

LILY: Big deal. Now, as I was saying, the Chevalley-Warning theorem--

BJ: Ooh, I just saw a flash. Lightning!

LILY (sighing): One, two, three--

BJ: Holy cow's milk! What a boom!

LILY: It's close.

BJ: Did you feel the earth move, Lily? I'm going to my room. Be lying under my pillow, if you need me.

LILY: Scaredy cat.


Later...

BJ: I don't know why you got so worked up over this morning's storms, Lily. You need some good old-fashioned desensitisation. Next time there's a storm, let's try to scratch our way outside and frolic in the rain.

LILY: That's it--no more Dr. Phil for you.

BJ: Fine. I don't trust him anymore, not since Oprah started distancing herself from him. You know, New Idea claims she's unimpressed by his public pledge to save Britney.

LILY: Someone's at the door.

BJ (whispering): Whoever it is, they've got a key. They're in!

LILY: Who the heck are you?

BJ: Lily, please don't hiss. It's V from next door. She's here to feed us. You have to be nice to her.

LILY: Oh, her. She reeks of that awful little cat Possum, but she's OK. I let her groom me with a brush last time. I just hope she didn't bring those weird toy mice. I mean, who ever heard of a yellow mouse?

BJ: Disney?

LILY: You watch far too much TV now that you're not scared of explosions and booms.

BJ: What are you doing? You can't climb into the pantry!

LILY: Watch me, buddy. I'm making sure she gets me a packet of tuna. Oh, goody! BJ, see those Lindt Gold Bunnies and the bottle of wine on the counter? Give 'em to her. I think she's earned them.

The Great Escape

BJ and Lily have just said goodbye to their slaves, R and S, who are heading to New Zealand for their wedding...

LILY: The humans have absconded. We must plot our revenge. Quick, let us shed fur all over the suede couch.

BJ: I am a neutered male. I can't type and shed at the same time.

LILY: Fine. I'll do it myself.

BJ: Hey, stop rolling on top of the remote control. What if you make that black rectangle explode?

LILY: It's called a TV, BJ. And if you'd put two and two together, you'd realise rolling on the remote doesn't make the TV blow up. Check this out.

BJ: Ahhh! No, don't! We'll get in trouble. Oh, hey, isn't that a fish?

LILY: Ew, you're licking the screen. And for the record, whales are mammals.

BJ: Tastes pretty good!

LILY: I wonder when the slave substitutes will be here to feed us.

BJ: Who needs Whiskas when we've got life-size whales on the TV?

LILY: Obviously your taste buds aren't as well developed as mine. Though, I am in the mood for some juicy prawns right now.

BJ: It's been five minutes since Mum and Dad left. When do you think they'll be back?

LILY: Oh, about a million hours from now. Don't worry. You'll sleep through most of it.

BJ: Are you kidding? I'm staying up to watch Entourage.

LILY: Nuh-uh, put that program guide away. I've got Nigella Bites and Jamie Oliver at Home lined up for tonight.

Some time later, one of the substitute slaves, F, enters the house.

LILY: Who the heck are you?

BJ: Lily, please don't hiss. It's F from next door. He's here to feed us. You have to be nice to him.

LILY: Where's the food, then, smartypants? He's come in empty-handed. And he reeks of that dreadful black cat of his--Pinklepurr. What if he's here to rob the place? Better guard that TV if you want to watch it later on.

BJ: I like it when he talks to us in that silly, high voice. It's very cute.

LILY: Fool! He's read all the literature on our kind. He knows we go ape when humans talk like that. Resist, BJ. Resist!

BJ: He's going to the pantry, Lily! Look, he's taking out the sachets of Whiskas!!!!! Oh, boy. Oh, boy!

LILY: Better be prawns in those sachets, or I'm throwing up all over your bowl again.

BJ (whispering): Please let there be prawns...