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This is a tale about a beast. This beast is known to most as "Banzai," a cruelly ironic name first coined to describe the beast's popcorn-like methods of leaping up out of hidden places and striking with relish. If only we had known then what a terror this little foundling would become, we might not have given it such an affectionate moniker.
The beast himself is quite disarming at first glance. He has every appearance of a petite, marbled brown tabby kitten, and his bright greenish-blue eyes shine at you so innocently at first. However, the moment you lower your guard, he is upon you, and no force of this earth can save you from the maiming that awaits your unfortunate person.
My tale unfolded just this evening. Banzai found me watching Mythbusters - an activity that always leaves me carefree and full of nerdish euphoria, making me a prime target for his "play." He stalked me silently from behind a stray bit of newspaper that had fallen diagonally across the back of the couch and the cushion next to me. When I scratched a stray itch on my thigh, it aroused his carnal instincts and he made his move. Letting out a squeaky mewl of ferociousness, he came boiling out from under the newspaper and attached himself to my bare arm, ripping and tearing away at my naked flesh with snarling growls and kitteny mewls of delight.
Crying aloud in dismay and terror, I immediately reacted in the only way I knew I had a chance of defeating the evil creature. I drove my so-far undamaged hand into his soft underbelly and delivered a fierce noogie to this little-known vulnerable place. Alas, the effects of his hypnosis were already upon me, and I did not use sufficient force to drive the fell beast away. Instead, my actions caused him to fly into a kitteny rage, his entire body now a flurry of claws, teeth, and deceptively soft fur. The situation looked bleak, but I was not defeated yet. I would fight until the bitter end, and this beast would not find his victory so sweet if I were to fail!
The battle raged on for days (or perhaps it was only minutes... it's hard to say, really. Time is irrelevant in epic battles, as any experienced warrior can tell you), but at long last, I emerged the victor. I owe my victory partly to luck and perserverance, but mostly to the secret anti-Banzai technique developed by my late grandfather (God rest his soul) who lost his very life perfecting it so that it may save lives. When my chance finally came, I used one of my newly-punctured hands to seize the foul creature by the scruff of his neck and lift him away from my injured person. At last safe from his deadly weapons, I laughed, taunting him openly by dangling my mangled fingers just out of reach of his outstretched limbs. He made a strange half-mew half-snort, and I knew that I had broken his spirit at last.
However, this beast is truly cunning. At the very moment I would have delivered the death blow (another move designed by my late grandfather; it involves scratching the beast below its chin until a strange purring noise signals its last gasps of evil breath), I found myself again entranced by his mystical defensive charms, and it was all I could do to fling him onto the couch and flee for my life. I sought refuge in the bathroom, but I had survived. The battle was over, but my enemy remained.
I may have to do battle with him again someday. But for the sake of my grandfather, and the honor of my family, I will be ready. -_- I will defeat the beast known as Banzai the Kitten, and they will sing praises of me in the town square for a fortnight at the least.