Erotic Saturday Morning Cartoon Fanfic, Part 2
Nermal Learns Her Lesson, inspired by Garfield and Friends, written by Stijl Council. I knew it was going to be a bad day. It was a Monday, first of all. Mondays always suck. They always rain, or Jon forgets my lasagna, or that drooling idiot Odie manages to slobber on my blanket so much I have to swim to get out of bed. I hate Mondays. And this one started out like it was going to be the worst of all! Yup, you guessed it. Nermal. That bitch. Oh, she's precious. Just comes wandering in my house like she's "the world's cutest kitten," batting her eyes, sleeping in my bed, eating my food, charming my human. For years I've wanted to tear her a new one. Especially considering how she never, ever ages, and I just get fatter and fatter. But today I think I hit on something that'll make sure she never comes traipsing around here ever again. I could smell the lasagna when my alarm went off. Jon, being an unemployed shitfucking loser, thought he'd do something to make his life remotely meaningful and cooked delicious lasagna for me. That smell's almost enough to get me out of bed on a Monday. Still, I decided to lie around, take a little bath -- after all, who's going to mess with my lasagna on a Monday morning? I trained that dog better than that. Well, who should have her entire head all the way in the pan? Can you guess?? That's right -- NERMAL!!! I was so angry I yowled as loud as I could, which made her jump straight backwards out of the pan. It was a sausage lasagna too -- my favorite. I could tell from the bits of pork stuck to her whiskers and jowls. "Garfield? Is that you? Hee-hee. It is I, the world's cutest kitten. I figured Jon made me breakfast because I'm so gosh-darned cute!" Ignorant slut. I patted over to her and picked her up by the scruff of her neck. "Don't you EVER mess with my lasagna again. You want me to air mail you to Abu Dhabi?" Her lower lip trembled. "I . . . I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." "That's all right. Just don't do it again." Wait where did that come from? It's not all right! This is lasagna we're talking about. LASAGNA! But looking at her, her downy fur covered in tomato sauce and bits of semolina, I couldn't stay angry. She was right about one thing. She really was cute. "Let me help clean you up there." She closed her eyes as I drew my tongue onto her cheek. I could feel her spine shiver as I tongued her whiskers, tasting the lasagna as I licked her clean. It was then I remembed I wasn't altered. No sir, I had all the equipment the good Lord saw fit to give me -- and right then it didn't matter whether she was in heat or not. I nudged her onto her back. "Don't move." Being as she was in a perpetual state of childhood, she'd never experienced heat, never experienced the yowling, longing urgency to make kittens with some tom she'd never met. I placed one paw over her mouth as I tied myself in her. She started to mewl, terrified, as I snatched her innocence from her. Luckily, Jon was in the other room jerking off to internet porn and Odie was trying to convince his tail to go out on a date. We wouldn't be interrupted. When I finished, I felt a profound sense of relief and relaxation. Nermal was bleeding slightly. At first I panicked, wondering how I'd explain, but then I remembered we were on the counter with lasagna. Lasagna with a red sauce. Jon wouldn't even notice. I nuzzled close to the panicked kitten's ears. "Will you ever mess with my lasagna again?" "Nuh...no." "What's that?" "No...I mean, no sir, Garfield sir." "That's more like it." I smacked her posterior with an open paw. "Now scram. I'm done with you." And as she waddled out, I knew we wouldn't be seeing the world's cutest kitten ever again.