We Have Lift-Off!

LILY: BJ, hold onto your hat. My sources at the airport have just informed me our parents' plane has taken off. I repeat, they have just taken off.

BJ: We have exactly three hours to clean this place up after last night's party.

LILY: It wasn't so much of a party, not with just the two of us here.

BJ: Let's not forget Mr. Mouse. He turned out to be an alright fellow after all.

LILY: He was under your thumb all night.



BJ: Well, it's not my fault. He backed himself into a corner.


LILY: Poor thing panicked. It's a good thing you gave him mouth-to-mouth. We might've lost him. And here I thought you didn't learn anything in that one day of medical school.


BJ (gasping): Did you hear that thump?

LILY (eyes narrowing): Yeah, it sounded exactly like a cat on a hot tin roof. And I bet I know which cat it is.

Le Visiteur

The mysterious arrival of a furry yellow creature has the cats up in arms. Unable to communicate with this seemingly deaf-mute visitor, Lily and BJ fall back on torture techniques gleaned from Jackie Chan movies.

Lily attacks at warp factor 9.975...


Teamwork...



Time for a little table tennis...


Fridge-a-dare...


Taking it outside...


Starring roll...


LILY: 'V' is for victory! Btw, we apologise for the low resolution of these video clips. And the camera-shake--good grief, it's worse than The Blair Witch Project! Our substitute slave V has been reprimanded severely. We hope F gives her a more superior camera phone for her upcoming birthday, something with at least 5 megapixels and a Carl Zeiss lens will do just fine.

Operation Homecoming

The cats prepare for a joyous family reunion...

BJ: All systems go, Lily?

LILY: Mind-control beacon...activated! Our humans are now consumed with thoughts of home. They're due to arrive any day.

BJ: I must say replacing the diamond in Mum's engagement ring with the beacon was pure genius on your part.

LILY: It was a simple exercise. I swapped the rocks as she lay asleep and helpless on our couch a few weeks ago. Little do the humans know I've monitored their every move across the Tasman. I believe they've had their fill of fun and freedom. It's time they came home.

BJ: Hear, hear! V and F proved themselves satisfactory substitutes, but there's nothing like snuggling with your own flesh and blood.

LILY: You can't say I didn't try to convince F and V we needed double the prescribed dose of Whiskas. It pains me to admit my mind-control program has a few kinks.

BJ: It certainly was easy enough to get V to clean our bathroom, wash our bowls and let us out for R&R in the backyard every day, though.

LILY: It's clear V's under our spell to some degree. She didn't even bat an eyelid when you accidentally jumped on her head this afternoon.

BJ: I had to get to the roast duck casserole before you gobbled it all.

LILY: Ah, that was the best meal I ever regurgitated.

BJ: We've had an overwhelming response to the blog poll. Two votes in favour of you and Pinkie burying the hatchet. Not a single 'no' vote!

LILY (sniffing): It's rigged. Besides, the poll is still open. Anything can happen during the election campaign. Check out the new publicity photo I've approved. I look earnest, honest and, most importantly, adorable, oui?



BJ: Why do our heads look so disproportionately large in these photos?

LILY: I don't mind. My face is my best feature. Hey, get a load of Pinklepurr's head shot. Why, I think he's reading a romance novel!

BJ: Hmm, I do believe that's a book by the wonderful Annie West. He has impeccable taste.

LILY (thinking): Must continue mind-control experiments on BJ asap.

Miss Lily Regrets...

The cats have grown comfortable in their substitute slave's presence. Too comfortable. Their resolve to remain aloof at all times is a distant memory. First, BJ leaps into the pantry and rearranges its contents. Soon after, Lily shows off her acrobatic skill by rearing onto her hind legs while singing for her supper. Then the ultimate betrayal of the cats' cool exteriors comes when Lily's favourite toy rolls onto the scene...

LILY: Ah, Monsieur Ping-Pong, how nice of you to visit. I see your sojourn beneath the sofa has done wonders for your complexion.

BJ: Careful, Lily. V is lurking about with her not-so-discreet camera phone. You don't want to do anything silly, now. Consider the effect Mr. Ping-Pong's charms have on you. All he has to do is look into your eyes and--

LILY: It's too late! He's pulling me into his gravitational field. Nothing can tear us apart. I...must...have...him!



BJ: Meanwhile, as this catastrophic event is occurring, you still find a nanosecond in which to apply Revlon Red to your lips. Golly, and you say I have no self-control. You've brought shame upon both of us. Ooh, I can't look!


LILY: Mon dieu! You're right. Oh, BJ, what have I done? I've demeaned myself in front of the substitute slave. Word of this will spread, I'm sure of it. Ohhhhh!


BJ: Snap out of it, Lily. There's only one thing you can do--pretend nothing happened, OK? Just look wide-eyed, sweet and innocent. And don't you dare give that Mr. Ping-Pong another glance.



LILY: Mr. Who?

Hump Day

After their glittering graduation ceremony, Professor Lily and Dr. BJ immediately put aside lofty career ambitions and retreat to the couch. V is busily preparing a celebratory feast in the kitchen.

LILY: Glad to see you squirreled out of becoming a Scientologist, BJ. Mum and Dad were concerned about you.

BJ: I only hope my audit video doesn't show up on YouTube some day. It's kind of embarrassing. I admitted to jumping up and down on the couch repeatedly. And at one point, I got so nervous I kept licking my paws. Then I started hallucinating that my feet were drenched in wagyu beef jus. Paws never tasted so tasty!

LILY: What a trip!

BJ: Glad to be home again.

LILY: You missed all the excitement. V watered the garden. She was pretty pleased with herself, doing a good deed and all. Did you know she talks to plants, by the way? Silly. It's not like the azaleas can answer.

BJ: That's exciting?

LILY: But you should've seen her get tangled up with the garden hose. Anyone would think she was wrestling a python. Then she couldn't get the hose to retract into its housing.

BJ: So, what did she do?

LILY: Poor thing had to coil up the hose manually and leave it on the ground. I kept yelling instructions about how to fix the damned thing. Of course, she tuned me out. She is going to be in such big trouble when Mum and Dad get back.

BJ: Don't laugh, Lily. She did her best.

LILY: Fortunately for us, she's handier in the kitchen, otherwise we'd starve. Though, she's taking her time. Let's surf the Net while she cooks that turkey.

BJ: OMG, Lily! My audit video has been leaked. I'm ruined!

Look Out, Oprah

Over the past five days, Lily and BJ studied intensively to earn their online doctorates from the prestigious University of San Farcical. Tomorrow, they will don caps and gowns for a cyber graduation ceremony. But today, they ponder their futures.


LILY: What are you going to do with your doctorate of nuclear physics, BJ?

BJ: I want to be a talk show host.

LILY: Now, there's a waste of a perfectly good education.

BJ: If proton and neutron interaction is possible, then so is my dream of becoming the new Oprah Winfrey.

LILY: Pfft! There can only be one of those.

BJ: Then I shall be her successor. When does her Oprah Winfrey Show contract expire? 2011? I'll have plenty of time to work my way up, pay my dues. Maybe we should move to Chicago so I can be an intern at Harpo Studios.

LILY: For a cat, you seem to have an inexplicable work ethic, BJ. I swear we must be adopted. Either that or you're a miniature human in a cat suit.

BJ: Yes, beneath this snow-white coat lurks the eternal flame of ambition.

LILY: Let us see if you've got the right stuff. Why don't you practise your talk show skills on me?

BJ: But I know everything about you. I can't pretend that I don't know you once got yourself trapped in a cardboard box for five hours, or that you may be bulimic.

LILY: You throw up more than I do.

BJ: You see? We know each other too well. So I propose we get Pinklepurr in for an exclusive interview.

LILY: How many times do I have to tell you I'm just not into that cat?

BJ: Aw, I've seen that wistful look in your eyes whenever he pokes his head over our fence.

LILY: You're talking crazy right now. Hmm, perhaps you'll make an excellent TV host after all.

I Spy

BJ: I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with 'C'.

LILY: Do you really need those commas?

BJ: Should I go with the minimalist, open punctuation look? I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'C'. Or: I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'C'.

LILY: Comma.

BJ: Huh?

LILY: That thing you're spying on. It's a comma.

BJ: How did you guess?

LILY: What else is left to spy on? We've been playing this game for eons. I wish you hadn't mistaken the Scrabble pieces for kibble.

BJ: All we have left in the games cupboard is Twister, but I think you need more than two players for that.

LILY: Who could we invite over to play?

BJ: Well, um, since you and Pinklepurr don't see eye to eye, we can't invite him. And you've never even spoken to his sister, Possum, because she's not allowed to wander. That leaves Stella.

LILY: That hound at number 32? The one who ate a wooden door?

BJ: Yep, her. Look, I know she's a bit scruffy--

LILY: And a completely different species.

BJ: But I think she's lonely. Let me call her.

LILY: I'm not having that mutt messing up my pristine white floors. You know how dogs are.

BJ: Stella? HEY, STELLA!

(silence)

LILY: She's probably busy devouring the garden shed.

BJ: HEY, STELLA!

LILY: Forget it, Brando. Let's try Possum.

BJ: What about Pinklepurr?

LILY: No way. He's from the wrong side of the tracks. Used to be a stray, you know. Explains a few things.

BJ: OK, but don't blame me if Pinkie comes knocking on the door because he feels out of the loop.

LILY: I'll handle him. You call out for little Possum.

BJ: She is small, isn't she? Be careful you don't crush her.

LILY (wide-eyed): Now, would I do a nasty thing like that?

Later, a quiet scratching sound...

BJ: Possum's here! I knew she'd come round.

LILY: Don't get too excited. We may be having a fun little game of Twister, but you must always be on your guard. Remember what Mum and Dad said - "Possum will seduce you with her disarming smile and eloquence - [they are] cunning and mischievous and will soon be running the neighbourhood."

BJ: Yeah, yeah. Hey, come look at what I spy through the peephole. Isn't she adorable? Don't you just want to eat her up?


LILY (grins slyly): Why, yes. Yes, I do.

Parading Around

BJ: It was nice of V to take us out to watch the Mardi Gras parade from that fancy penthouse, wasn't it? I had a fabulous time, dahling.

LILY: Oh, please. When the fireworks went off on the balcony next to ours, you were white-faced with terror.

BJ: And you were off your face because of all that pink champagne.

LILY: Please keep the noise down. I still feel a little indisposed.

BJ: V must be feeling much the same way. I tell you what, that girl can't hold her liquor. Three glasses of champers and she's anybody's.

LILY: Well, it was the car ride home that did her in. Motion sickness. Good of you to keep her hair clear of the vomit trajectory.

BJ: I felt I owed her after I regurgitated that hunk of cat grass on her yesterday. I hope my stomach acid didn't eat a hole in her ballet shoes.

LILY: She really should've had something to eat before going to the party.

BJ: Maybe we're supposed to be feeding her, not the other way around.

LILY: I can't be bothered cooking anything. Give her a few bucks next time she comes in. She can spend it at the pub on that calamari she likes so much.

BJ: Hey, Lily, did you see this comment on the blog? Mum and Dad did get married yesterday.

LILY: Oh, hooray! BJ, we're legitimate at last! How many bottles of champagne do we have left?

BJ: Uh...one.

LILY: Good grief. That means we've drunk twenty bottles since Tuesday. Hey, what's this? Mum and Dad had replica statues of us at the ceremony? I never! Just wait till I get my claws on those Doppelgängers. I'll bite their sugary heads off.

BJ: Be my guest. I just thought of something. Let's fill the empty Bollinger bottles with sparkling apple juice. I'll recork them, and you get the aluminum foil from the drawer. Mum and Dad won't know the difference.

LILY: I knew you were good for something, BJ. But you're so good with your paws. I'll leave it all to you. I don't want to ruin my manicure.

Bubble and Squeak

BJ: Don't you think Mum and Dad will notice if we swipe a bottle of Bollinger?

LILY: BJ, this wine rack is in our living room. It belongs to us. They'll be so pleased to see us when we get home that they'll have no idea half their collection is missing. But if you're that paranoid, I shall dispatch one of the substitute slaves to the bottle shop for another case.

BJ: OK. What are we celebrating, anyway? Oh, I know! It's Gay Mardi Gras time! Or, as those in the know call it, Gay Christmas. I really hope we can get out and see Olivia Newton-John's show. She's performing at 3am. Apparently she's gonna sing Xanadu! Oh, I'm so excited! I bet she'll wear her rollerskates.

LILY: I must make sure V doesn't let you out in the daytime again. All that sun must've fried your furry little brain, BJ. The reason why we're popping the cork is that I think our parents are getting married today.

BJ: You think? You're not sure?

LILY: They forgot to leave us a calendar, so I'm using my powers of deduction.

BJ: Wow!

LILY (smugly): Yes, I know. I am smart.

BJ: No, I mean, wow! They're getting married!!!! Mum's probably looking really pretty in a fancy dress. I bet her gown's the same colour as our fur. And Dad, well, I hope that black suit I rolled on last week isn't the same one he's wearing for the wedding. I wish we could have been ring bearers at the ceremony, you know. I've seen dogs do that in movies and Australia's Funniest Home Video Show.

LILY: BJ, when will you learn? We're cats. Manual labour is for humans and canines. Hurry with the cork, would you? We haven't all day. We'll toast Mum and Dad now, and be sober by the time they come home. They'll never suspect a thing.

BJ: Happy wedding day, Mum and Dad!

LILY: Mwah, mwah, mwah, Mum and Dad! BJ, we can always put the Veuve Clicquot on ice if it turns out today isn't the day...

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!