The Glittering Catwalk

Finally it's opening night of the Kitty Burger, and all the cats are being shown off to the public.

The stage was set with lights. The tables were set with beautiful, allergy-free silk flowers, with suspisciously french-fry-shaped yellow petals. Placemats with little kitten motifs bore glamourous dishes and fine, sterling silverware. The runway stretched in between the room, lined with little purple lights as it jutted out from the stage. In the DJ booth was a suspiciously 3R1N-like robot, except this one wore a deep red wig and seemed to have only two tentacles. The sign in front of the DJ booth said "DJ Rent-a-Bot", and the rented machine swayed and jabbed its arms over its turntables -- without touching, as the only music that was playing was a calm ambient jazz track. The rest of the stage was empty, except for a sign above that said "We Present the Cats of Kitty Burger" in glittery silver lights.

Customers, after entering the store, passing Ray in his Rayven mascot suit and entered into the redecorated dining area (Pocki had decided last minute that the catwalk should be in the dining area instead of the cat area -- fortunately spare space from the 22nd dimension is easy to realign ). Each customer was escorted by one of the Burg-girls to the nearest table. For one night only, attendees of the catwalk could pay $10 for all they could eat in sliders and various varieties of fries, children 10 and under eat free (and if you stick out your bottom lip far enough, eleven year olds do too). Each customer sat down to an appetizer of fresh salad and curly fries.

The Burg-girls certainly were in their finest. Marlene had even seen fit to put on a red dress, though the entire thing being made from a red plaid fabric toned down the elegance factor. It seemed odd that Darlene could even move in the abundance of fabrics of her kinomo and the doodads in her hair, but she moved with the grace of a princess and the speed of an ice skater. Faline was even faster, and anyone who wanted entertainment before the catwalk officially started could watch the food on her tray slip and slide -- but never spill -- as she skated all around the room in her glittery jumpsuit, complete with bellbottom pants. Faline dodged every table, every errant customer, every dropped fork like an obstacle course skater. Irene, however, just walked. Her hair was done in an elaborate updo, embellished with plastic spiders. She still wore her regular hoodie, but this time underneath it stuck a longer, pinker dress. She blushed and sighed every time someone told her how cute she looked.

"Oh, you are too kind," she said, softly turning her face away with timidity. "Even now I waste away as the darkness of this age grows greater in power..."

"Speaking of greater in power, here comes Faline!" this Burg-girl approached, spun in a circle, and winked at the customers. "Get ready everyone, in five short minutes, our presentation will commence! Last minute sodas and sliders coming your way right now!"

Marlene and Darlene emerged from the kitchen with large variety plates of mini-burgers. It was true that most of the customers had already ordered burgers of various types, but since waitressing was going to be shutting down for the catwalk presentation, the girls offered various unique flavors for customers to try: barbeque, Carolina barbecue, brisket, bulgogi, shrimp, pork, sour cream and onion, taco, and super supreme ultimate double cheese. Faline and Irene filled up everyone's drinks before retreating back behind the partition. The light dimmed, and Pocki's warm voice sounded over the speakers set up in the corners.

"Goooood evening, everyone, and welcome to this, the opening night of the Kitty Burger!"

Like a flash, Pocki appeared on the the stage, dressed in purple-pinstripe pants and a glamorous, frilly top, complete with suspenders and a purple vest, as though Pocki was a fugitive from the 1970s. His cape, so invisible on the previous day, now sparkled its vibrant violet sheen as Pocki dramatically flipped it out. Everyone automatically applauded.

"Tonight you may, for the first time, feast your eyes on the feline pride that will be providing you comfort, entertainment, and friendship every time you visit this wonderful establishment! See the face of the beautiful, the fantastic, the extraordinary, Kitty Burger Coteriee! Starting with our lovely Burg-girls!"

With a wave of his cape, Pocki rushed back to the back of the stage. DJ Rent-a-Bot immediately put on a lo-fi hip hop beat, and began to casually spin a record. He spun for several seconds before upping the beat a little. All four of the Burg-girls came out from backstage, and just as they had done for Maxine's benefit, they introduced themselves to the crowd. At the sound of their last "Everybody sparkle!", the crowd applauded. Pocki walked up through the center of the group, and all of the girls briefly posed around him before returning to the back.

"And now, the part you've all been waiting for," Pocki exclaimed. "Our cats!"

"Kit-tee..." the DJ's vocodor voice sounded into the microphone in a tuneful tone. "Kit-tee...introduction!"

Pocki retreated back next to the DJ Booth. Spotlights lit up, highlighting the runway. A cat, long-haired, appeared and began a casual feline strut to the end of the runway. The music whirred with a sudden wuchukka chukka. Pocki, swaying casually to the rhythm, lifted his microphone up to his mouth.

"You see before you a beautiful seal point ragdoll -- Nova! Take a look at that long, fluffy fur, that elegant tail, the dark face of sheer kindness and beauty! One of our friendliest cats, Nova is sure to make your visit to the Kitty Burger comfortable and content!"

Nova ignored Pocki, ignored the music, and just in general seemed to be no more interested in her surroundings than would a cat on a casual stroll. In fact, several customers began to whisper amongst themselves that maybe all this stage and music getup was a bit too fancy for something as casual as just a cat. But then Nova reached the end of the runway, and stretched in a normal cat motion, which does look rather like a bow. The customers awwed audibly, and clapped at the cuteness. Nova walked back to the sound of the DJ Renta scratching and squeeling on the record.

"Next we have our Birman cat, a seal lynx point young gentleman with a weakness for bits of burger -- no food in the kitty area, please -- and a penchant to get it. Everyone welcome to the runway, Rick Birman!"

The aforementioned cat likewise walked with the normal strut of a cat, but he very much noticed the audience. He would go down the runway a little way, turn to the side, meow at the audience, then keep going a little more. As he reached the end of the runway, the customers noticed for the first time that there was a little microphone at the end, right at cat nose level. Rick Birman approached it and opened his little maw, for the first time loud enough for everyone to hear him.

"Mewow," he said. "Mewoooow!"

Everyone broke out into a cheer at his odd meow style. A smile somehow seemed to form on Rick Birman's face, and he paced back and forth at the end of the runway with excitement. Pocki had to clear his throat on the microphone before Rick went on his return walk.

"I'd just like to let everyone know that Rick's special talent is painting, and I hope everyone knows where their raffle tickets are! Rick's painting of neon waffles hiking the Appalachian Trail is going to one lucky winner in this room tonight!"

"Art cat..." sang DJ Renta. "Artistic endeavors..."

Rick Birman turned back one last time to meow at the audience (too far away from a mic to be heard) before ducking backstage. Another cat appeared in the shadows.

"Our next cat, well, he's kind of a handful, but he's handy and kind -- even without hands! Everyone, meet Rasputin, our blue smoke Turkish Angola!"

Per usual, Rasputin hopped up the runway. He stood there, frozen in the middle of the runway, then with a burst of energy did a random backflip. Everyone cheered. Rasputin, apparently encouraged by this, hopped onto his front legs, kicking the back ones into the air. Then he switched. Again. And again. Rasputin hopped this way to the end of the runway, then sat abruptly and swatted his front paws in the air. He leaned into the cat mic.

"Maaaaooow!"

It wasn't nearly as cute as Rick Birman's meow, and everyone laughed. With one more (distressed?) maaoow, Rasputin fled to the safety of backstage. Pocki laughed too, and took a moment to calm down before introducing the next cat.

"Next up, we have our young, but extremely talented two year old, our lovely American shorthair, give it up for Narnia, everybody!"

And everyone did applaud as a gracious black cat strutted down the runway. It really was a strut, as though somehow a cat had figured out how to runway walk. Everyone oohed and aahed over her perfect, gleaming fur, resolute green eyes, and entirely in control demeanor. She performed poses like a model too: she turned to one side, lifted her chin, turned to the other and looked back at the audience, and finally sat down with her paws together, curling her tail over her ears. For a moment it looked like she might meow into the microphone, but at the last moment she stopped and licked her shoulder in complete nonchalance. Everyone immediately stood to their feet and cheered. The cheering didn't end until near the end of Narnia's model walk to the back of the stage.

Before being announced, two cats scrambled onto the runway, jumping over one another, running, and making various play-attacks in the air. About halfway down the runway they stopped their play and walked forward with a playful swing in their tails.

"Say hello to our next two cats, two best friends fur-ever! The brown and white one is our Norwegian Forest young fellow, Oscar! His friend here is a calico Scottish fold, and just would you look at those cute folded ears! He's the best little critter ever stuck with the unfortunate label of Pickles. Let's hear it for 'em!"

"Super-super-super cat!" DJ Renta intoned into his mic, scrubbing the records for all he was worth (which was a lot, because Rent-a-Bots are expensive). "Hero-hero-hero jump!"

The two cats did in fact jump, and Pickles not only did a flip, but also landed directly on Oscar's back. To the applause of the audience, the two cats jumped once more, this time landing side by side. They did a cute little swaying motion, then each tried to meow over the other into the cat microphone.

"Now, now, boys, it's not the time to be competitive!" Pocki announced. "And yes, ladies and gentlemen, these indeed are two very competitive cats. These little athletes perform sport activities three days a week, and you'll only see it here Kitty Burger, ladies and gentlemen!"

Another pair of cats emerged from stage as Oscar and Pickles tumbled away to the back. One was a very small kitten, Siamese, and walked with trembling and nervous little steps. A larger cat with long, grey fur gently urged on the kitten with gentle touches from its nose.

"And here we have our youngest member of the Kitty Burger Cat Companions, little Nora, a seal point Siamese. She won't be able to visit customers just yet, but of course we're going to let her say hello. The beautiful silver tabby Maine Coon with her is our sweetest girl, Hannabelle! She's nurturing, she's sweet, and bound to be your best friend if you let her into your heart -- or your food."

Hannabelle and Nora reached the end of the runway, and Nora stared at the audience, her little legs a-trembling. Hannabelle licked her on the head and then approached the cat mic.

"Miew," she said.

She nudged Nora forward, and the little kitty pepped up a little bit. Summoning all her courage, Nora opened her mouth.

"Mi mi!" she squealed. "Miu mi!"

The crowd collapsed through fits of cuteness poisoning. Women fainted, men shed unmanly tears, and little children shrieked for joy at the horrible adorableness of Nora and Hannabelle.

"Why?" wailed one teenager at the foremost table as his face fell into his hands. "Just why are they so cuuuuuute?!"

Nora, frightened by all the sudden noise, cried out (and made it worse because the cry was so squee-worthy) and trembled. Hannabelle licked her twice, then carried her by the scruff of her neck backstage. This was the final stage of total cuteness, and the asthmatics in the room immediately reached for their inhalers. When the cats were finally out of sight, Pocki silently signalled to DJ Renta to play his beat for a few notes longer, so that the people who had fallen to the floor could have time to get back into their seats.

"Before we continue," Pocki came around to the other side of the DJ Booth, farther away from the runway. "I must ask everyone to please remain seated and not approach the runway. Resist immediately any urge to touch our cats. Thank you. And now, I present to you the crown jewel of this cat collection, the Lady of Fluff, her Royal Ruffleness, her Majesty Princess Trixie Puff!"

The giant cream shell Persian emerged from backstage. She glanced once at Pocki, then resolved herself for a confident strut on the catwalk. She gazed sternly at the audience as the latter gasped at the bountiful mountain of fluff that was Princess Trixie Puff. The mic was close to the ground, but that didn't stop Trixie from leaning down and giving it a good, deep, rumbling, mrrrrreeeooowww....

It was as if Pocki had never warned them at all. Many people stood, just trying to see if they could sneak up and get the slightest touch of Trixie Puff's fur. Some didn't even bother with subterfuge, and walked straight on up. Only Burg-girls with their stern stares (and hidden weapons) could keep all intruders in check. So it was that Trixie Puff managed to get back into hiding safely. Before she did, she paused once again to look at Pocki. He gestured for her to go to the back with a dignified bow. The princess complied.

"And finally," Pocki turned back to the audience. "Last, and certainly the most, is our kitty host, the leading lady of the Kitty Burger and my dearest friend, everyone please give a nice, warm welcome, to Mitzy!"

DJ Renta sang in his buzzing voice. "Mitzy...is a pretty kitty!"

Mitzy popped out from behind backstage with a real swagger to her step. She wasn't as powerful a walker as Narnia, but she had the most pizzazz, and people cheered to see her walk. She stepped right up to the mic, gave a peppy miaou, and strutted back to Pocki. She jumped onto his shoulders and wrapped around his neck like a scarf.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen!" Pocki swayed his way to the center of the stage. "This concludes the catwalk portion of tonight's events! But the evening's not over yet! Up next we'll be having our raffle drawing, and after a luxurious series of desserts, you'll be able to spend the last part of the evening giving each of our show-ready cats a good pet! Mr. Rayven, take it away!"

The enthusiastic man in the purple cat costume jumped up on the stage with a big box over his head. He danced, hopping from one foot to the other as he swung the plastic vinyl around his head. The tickets would have made an obnoxious clicking sound, if the music hadn't been too loud to cover it. Pocki set his microphone stand on the center of the stage and put a little table next to it. Rayven danced his way to the table.

"Alright, everybody, time for the first drawing! Me-ow!" Rayven plunked the box down on the table, struggling for a second to take off the lid despite his big, furry paws. "Okay! The first number is 26202..."

Maxine glanced up once again at the television screen. Pocki had so helpfully installed it on the wall just to the right and above the dish washing station. Maxine stared with mildly jealous wonder at the screen as she scrubbed a plate. As an employee, she wasn't eligible for the drawing, but it was nice to at least see what was going on. Unfortunately the TV was sort of old and she didn't want it to be too loud, so she'd missed the particularly cute meowing that was going on. She sighed deeply. Maybe if she begged Pocki long enough, he would let her snuggle a cat after hours. Or at least look at them.

"PLAIN ONE!"

"Aaaah!"

Maxine jumped, flinging suds halfway across the receiving area. From the kitchen, 3R1N grimaced at her, and two thin tentacles that looked suspiciously like stilleto switchblades wavered in the air behind her. She smacked her hands together.

"Stop gawking and get to work!" she snapped. "The kitchen is opening up again in fifteen minutes and I'm all out of plates!"

"Uh...uh, yes, ma'ambot!"

All thoughts of the TV and anything on it went out of Maxine's mind, and she scrubbed each plate with a will, taking a break only to fill the automatic dishwasher with the next load of plastic cups.