Revenge of the Kitten Queen

by Johnny Marciano

  “Then get your own lackey.”

  The fool’s expression completely changed.

  “My own lackey? For real?”

  He began to purr. It was loathsome.

  “All right, if you believe in me like that, then I’ll do it!” he said. “Oh thank you, Your Epicness. How can I ever repay you?”

  “By making those wretched kittens regret the day they were born!”

  CHAPTER 19

  On Saturday, I had a daylong basketball tournament. Before I left, I went to say goodbye to Klawde, who was down in the basement with the VQ helmet on.

  “Hey, Klawde I—”

  “It is unbearable to attend to the drooling chatter of lowly life forms,” Klawde said. “I am consumed with important imperial business.”

  I was pretty sure he wasn’t. “Come on, you’re playing Mortal Death Sport 3000, aren’t you?”

  “No, absolutely not.”

  “So you’re just totally ruling the universe right now, huh?”

  “Of course I am. Why would you doubt me?” he snapped. “Why, just earlier today, I overthrew the cruel and insulting leader of a planet and installed a puppet ruler in her place.”

  That didn’t sound so great. But I was pretty sure that Klawde was lying again. I mean, I knew the emperor didn’t have any real power. Only Klawde seemed to not get it.

  “Now, humble peon, I order you to pour a pint of heavy cream into your finest tableware and leave it at my paws,” Klawde said. “And don’t forget to walk backward and bow as you exit.”

  This was too much. Did he act this way with Barx? Back when he and Klawde were training for the Duel of the Branch, he’d said that Klawde being emperor was all part of a larger plan. But a larger plan for what?

  “So, has Barx been helping you, like, make the universe a better place and all?” I asked.

  Klawde whipped off the VQ helmet. “Never speak that mutt’s name in my presence!” he yelled. “The vile cur does not help. He hinders! He and all of those fools from the Good Animals Group and the Cosmic Council. They only want the Emperor to sign laws, cut ribbons, and solve problems! I do not solve problems, I cause them!” He slashed furiously at a pillow, and a cloud of feathers rose up into the air.

  I sighed and went to get a broom. He was certainly right about causing problems.

  CHAPTER 20

  Even the ogre was now mocking me for my lack of imperial powers. It was intolerable! My only solace was the hope that somehow my dim-witted minion had gotten rid of the Kitten Queen. But there was still no news on the Tele-Feed of her fall. Only more videos of crowds burning me in effigy and shredding my banners with their claws.

  “Why have you still not overthrown that despicable calico?” I asked my minion the moment he answered my call.

  “Well, I asked her super politely to give up the throne, but she puffed her tail and said some awfully nasty things to me,” he said. “I mean, I think they were nasty. They all just kinda sounded like meow.”

  “How hard can it possibly be to vanquish an idiotic Earth kitten?”

  “Well, it’s not like you ever beat her,” Flooffee muttered. Then he perked up. “But the good news is that I hired my own minion. He’s really fantas—”

  I hung up. Then I drank all the dairy product I could find and posted a particularly regal selfie to the imperial GlittR account. Neither activity eased my frustrations.

  Not even calling up Ffangg and the other warlords to taunt them mercilessly improved my mood.

  Well, maybe it did a little.

  The next day, I attempted to focus on the positive. I was still Emperor of the Universe, and even if it was little more than a title, it was the best title. Just as I had begun to feel better, however, Barx’s infuriating face appeared on my communicator screen. He was scratching behind his ear with his clumsy back paw.

  “Flea collar not working as well as it should, foul beast?” I asked.

  “I’d love to joke around with you, Klawde, but this is really important,” the dog said. “We have a major animalitarian crisis on our hands. The situation on Asimo V has worsened. All six suns have set, and there won’t be any light or heat for another two hundred thousand time units.”

  “And you are telling me this why?” I said, nibbling a claw.

  “Well, there are fourteen million hedgehogs who risk freezing to death.”

  “This is terrible,” I said, staring at my claws. “Just look at these tips. I really need a pawdicure.”

  “Klawde!” Barx said. “Be serious. I’ve got the aid packages and shipments of blankets ready to go, and I’m going to start transferring the most vulnerable to the Forklian Cluster as soon as all the imperial troops arrive.”

  My ears pricked up. “I thought you said the emperor didn’t have an army.”

  “Oh, these aren’t soldiers. They’re peacekeeping troops, and they don’t fight other animals—they help them! They protect and deliver universal aid shipments.” Barx scratched at his ear again. “You wouldn’t believe it, but there are actually bandits who try to steal aid supplies, like the warlords of AWESOME and, well, cats.”

  “Good times . . . ,” I said.

  “What did you say?”

  “Good timing!” I said. “We must save these poor hedgehogs.”

  “I’m so glad to hear you say that, pal!” Barx said, wagging his tail.

  “Now, am I in charge of these imperial troops?”

  “Well, you sure are,” Barx said. “I tell you, Klawde, I’m so glad to see you taking an interest in animalitarian aid! You’re going to make a great emperor after all. Why, your thoughts and prayers are going to mean so much.”

  “Ksh ksh! What’s that you say, Barx old friend?” I said. “Losing you—ksh ksh!”

  Then I hung up on him.

  I had troops! Now I didn’t have to wait for my minion to crush my calico nemesis. I would have the joy of doing it myself.

  Purr!

  CHAPTER 21

  “What even is this?” Brody asked, staring down at his lunch tray.

  “I think they said it was chipped beef,” Sarah said.

  None of us could tell. To me, it looked like something Klawde had barfed up.

  On the bright side, I now knew what I wanted to write about for the newspaper: our terrible school food. On the not-bright side, it was my lunch, too. And if I didn’t want my stomach to growl all through science, I’d have to eat the only vegetarian thing on the tray: a bag of chips.

  The article would be easy to research. I mean, the kids in the lunchroom had a lot of things to say about it, and I had a ton of questions. Like why weren’t there more options for students who don’t eat meat? What was chipped beef, anyway? And were potato chips really considered vegetables?

  It almost sounded fun—especially if I got to go out and sample all the things we should eat. Like pad thai. And bubble tea!

  At the next newspaper club, Scorpion showed up late, then flopped down in a corner and took out his phone.

  His dad cleared his throat. “Um, son?”

  “What?” Scorpion sneered.

  “Do you want to get the meeting started?” he said. “You are the editor.”

  Scorpion rolled his eyes and put his phone in his pocket. “Fine,” he said. “So what are we supposed to do again?”

  His dad explained that we were all going to be presenting our article ideas. Cedar immediately raised her hand and told everybody about how she wanted to document the horror of the school toilets. Imogen and Isla said they wanted to do a horoscope column, and I pitched my school lunch idea.

  Steve was really excited about his idea for a comic strip. “It’s about a cat who loves naps and lasagna and hates Mondays!”

  Scorpion sat up and said, “Ha! That’s awesome!”

  “But it’s taken,” I said. “You know
—Garfield?”

  Steve’s face fell. “I thought the idea sounded kinda familiar . . .”

  Scorpion’s dad patted Steve on the shoulder. “Keep thinking,” he said. “Now, for the assignments—”

  “I get to give them out ’cause I’m the boss!” Scorpion shouted.

  My mom gritted her teeth. “The proper term is ‘editor.’ ”

  Scorpion pointed at me. “Yo Rat, how about you take a dive into the toilets, ’cause that’s your assignment. Crappers in Crisis. Haw haw!”

  This was totally unfair. “What about my school lunch idea?”

  “Dude, I’m doing that one,” Scorpion said. “I can’t wait to taste test some nachos and buffalo wings.”

  “And school bathrooms is my article!” Cedar said. “No offense, Raj, but I want to be the one to report on it.”

  “Both of you nerds can do it,” Scorpion said. “What do I care?”

  We complained to Scorpion’s dad, but he shrugged and told us that the editor was in charge of assigning stories. So then I turned to Mom.

  “Well, Raj,” she said, “on big stories, it’s not uncommon to have more than one reporter. And this sounds to me like a very important article, because it highlights our school’s limited maintenance budget.”

  I couldn’t believe that my mom was siding with Scorpion. And that she thought kids would care about plumbing!

  Imogen leaned over to me. “What’s your birthday?”

  “You’re a Libra,” she said after I told her. Then she tapped something into her phone. “It says you have some unpleasant tasks ahead this week, and that someone very close to you will be extra demanding.”

  I sighed. “That sounds about right.”

  CHAPTER 22

  I couldn’t call my minion fast enough.

  “I do have an imperial army, and I will use it to crush that despicable kitten once and for all!” I said. “Absurdly, they call my troops a ‘peacekeeping force,’ which was the reason for my confusion. I will change the name, obviously. What do you think of the Imperial Strike Force of Vengeance and Mayhem?”

  “That sure is swell, Supremalissimo, but you’re not going to need those troops just yet.” Flooffee’s face filled with a look I had never seen on it before: pride. “Because my minion and I deposed the Kitten Queen! You are talking to the new Supreme Leader!”

  “Really? You beat her? With your minion?” This was astounding.

  “We sure did!”

  I admit, I was slightly disappointed to not vanquish her with my army—it is always sad not to be able to play with a new toy. Still, the ability to delegate is the mark of a great leader.

  “Well done, Flooffee,” I said. “Now, let’s get to the part that will make all of Lyttyrboks purr as one: stringing that calico and her brothers up by their tails and ripping out their whiskers!”

  “Well,” Flooffee said, twitching his ear, “there is this one teensy problem that I have to deal with first.”

  I let out a purr of recognition. “Ah, so you have discovered how difficult it is to find a satisfactory minion. The vast majority are so disappointing.”

  “Oh no, that part is great! Ttimmee is the best!” he said. “Hey, Ttimmee, come here and say hello to His Imperial Lordness!”

  The face of a cat even more absurd-looking than Flooffee filled my monitor.

  “Heffo!”

  “Why is his tongue sticking out of his mouth?”

  “Oh, it’s like that all the time,” Flooffee said. “Ttimmee does whatever I say, and always with a purr! He’s super supportive of my decisions, too.”

  “So what is the problem?” I said.

  “We did a great job of getting the kitten and her brothers out of the Skratshink Palace, but after that, wellll . . .”

  “Are you telling me that the calico is not in your custody?”

  Flooffee and his minion looked at each other. I felt the entire cosmos get stupider.

  “We, uh, kind of lost her,” Flooffee said.

  “Loff her,” Ttimmee agreed.

  For an instant I did not know whether to be confused or furious. I settled on furious. “How could you lose her?”

  “Well, it’s, uh, Ttimmee’s fault.”

  “My fauff!” Ttimmee said.

  I gritted my fangs. “Do either of you dolts have any idea where she went?”

  “Well, a lot of supreme leaders flee to the outermost moons after a coup,” Flooffee said. “Maybe she and her brothers are on one of those? Like Seventy-Three, the forest moon? Ooh, or Eighty-Two, with the Castle of Sand? I know that’s where I’d go.”

  “Me ffoo!”

  The outer moons—of course. A small squadron of cats could hide out for years in those distant lunar wildernesses. This meant that I could, in fact, use my troops. To hunt down the former Kitten Queen, and crush her once and for all!

  CHAPTER 23

  “So, uh, what’s the plan for today, Dad?” I asked as I stepped inside the garden shed.

  “We’re making kefir!”

  I brushed a spider off my sleeve. “Doesn’t that come from the grocery store?”

  Dad scoffed. “Only if you aren’t making it yourself it does.”

  He measured a small scoop of what looked like tiny bits of cauliflower and dumped them into a glass jar. He told me they were kefir grains, which were made up of microorganisms that would digest and ferment the milk. The words alone made me want to barf.

  “There you go, little guys,” he said, peering into the jar. “Get ready to work your magic!” Then he turned to me. “So, how’s newspaper club?”

  I told Dad how Scorpion stole my article idea and then assigned me to work on the gross bathroom story with Cedar. “And Mom totally agreed with him!”

  “Well, she does have to be impartial,” he said.

  “Impartial? She’s not a judge—this is an after-school club! Scorpion’s dad lets him do whatever he wants. Why doesn’t Mom let me do what I want? Which is quit.”

  But Dad wasn’t listening anymore. He was pouring milk into the jar, giving it a stir, and then standing back to admire his creation.

  “In about twenty-four hours we’re going to have some yummy probiotic goodness to drink. Pretty cool, huh? This, though,” he said, pulling down a bottle of bright red liquid, “this is ready to enjoy right now!”

  “What is it?” I asked. It looked like Kool-Aid.

  “Kvass! Here, take a swig.”

  I was about to, but then he told me that it was made from beets. “Uh, you first, Dad.”

  “Sure thing!” He took a big drink, then held the container out to me. “It’s delish!”

  I couldn’t tell if he really liked it or was just forcing a smile. His teeth were so red he looked like a really friendly vampire.

  I sniffed it. “This doesn’t smell so great.”

  “But it tastes fantastic,” Dad said.

  I took a sip.

  “Oh, yuck yuck yuck!” I said, spitting it onto the ground outside the shed. “How could you let me drink that?”

  “Okay, okay, I can tweak the recipe,” Dad said. “It’s still a little young, anyway. They say that kvass isn’t at its best till day five.”

  The only way that was going to be better in five days was if I poured it down the drain and drank a Coke instead.

  CHAPTER 24

  I could hardly wait to transmit the message to my troops about their new mission to find and destroy the calico. I expected much rejoicing. For who would want to keep peace when they could make war?

  I donned the VQ helmet and immediately saw the prime muttonhead, Barx.

  “Show me my troops,” I commanded. “And take off that ugly vest.”

  “Hey there, old pal!” Barx said. “It sure is great to have your virtual presence to kick off this important mission of emer
gency assistance and universal brotherhood!”

  “As commander, it is my duty to personally address the Imperial Strike Force of Vengeance and Mayhem!” I declared. “Uh, the Imperial Nice Force of Universal Peace and Goodness, I mean.”

  Barx wagged. “That’s the spirit, Klawde old buddy.”

  I waited. And waited. But the army did not appear.

  Barx blinked at me. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “To whom?”

  “Your troops!” the mutt said. “All ten thousand of them await your words of patience and caring.”

  “Where are they?” I said, scanning to my right and left.

  “Look down,” Barx said, panting excitedly.

  Down? I did look down. And there they were. All ten thousand . . .

  “MICE?” I roared. “My imperial troops are mice?”

  “Yep!” the cur said proudly. “They make some of the best first-aid movers in the whole universe.”

  “Where are their weapons?”

  “Oh, no weapons,” Barx said.

  “But what if their convoy gets attacked?” I said. “By—you know—full-size animals.”

  “They’ll wave the white flag of peace, of course.”

  “And when that doesn’t work?”

  “They flee! Scurry and scatter, that’s their strategy. They’re top-notch evaders. You wouldn’t believe the little spots they can hide in.” Barx wagged madly.

  “How do you expect delicious—I mean, defenseless mice to hunt down the Kitten Queen and her wretched brothers in the outer moons?”

  “What are you talking about?” Barx cocked his head to one side. “These guys are going to rescue the hedgehogs! And right now, they’re waiting for your inspirational speech. Just to warn you, though, they don’t have superlong attention spans.”

  Barx was even stupider than I ever dreamed if he thought I would waste my imperial breath on those beady-eyed nose-twitchers! This was not an army—this was an all-you-can-eat buffet! I ripped off the VQ in disgust and searched for something to destroy.