Cat Jesus and the Holy Lawn Dart
Free short story and this month's co-op indie author promos
If you’re looking for indie promos from other writers, go to the end of this newsletter.
This story is a mashup between Jonathon Sawyer’s Monday Mash-Up #56 and a separate story I did for Counter Arts a few weeks ago:
The Story Where His Lordship Drops a Jesus Bomb
The Adam and Eve story isn’t what you thinkmedium.com (paywall-free link)
The Monday Mashup is a writing prompt for the online magazine, The Kraken Lore, where this story first appeared a couple weeks ago.
In other words, it’s a super mashup. A mega mashup. A mashup extravaganza.
In the Counter Arts story, a flummoxed God decides he needs to send his son JC to Earth to deal with the crazies, but he’s leery of this action because JC has just finished a brief but rather rough tour on a planet inhabited by sentient bipedal cats.
This is the story of that visit to the Cat Planet.
Well, it’s part of the story. Consider this a teaser of sorts. There may be more, but probably not. The offering of salvation to a planet of cat people isn’t something you can cover in a short story. Or maybe even a full epic novel. Probably not even an epic trilogy.
I bet you never thought collaborative writing could be so damned complicated.
Let us begin.
“Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to bring salvation to the Cat People of Felinia.”
“Cats?” JC protested. “They’re the most self-centered beasts in the universe.”
God shrugged. “I roll the dice and whatever comes out, comes out. You know this.”
JC scowled tremendously. “I have to morph into a cat for this, don’t I?”
God nodded. “There are worse things.”
After saying, “Not really, Dad,” JC reluctantly accepted the mission to Felinia, which is a planet with almost no water (cats don’t like water) located in what is known to a few of you more learned primates as the JADES-GS-z14–0 galaxy.
He found himself born inside a tiny tent of impoverished cats. “Why does it always have to be poor people in hovels?” he complained bitterly to himself while mewing like an infant kitty the way he was supposed to.
His mother, Mariclipso, pushed him aside to make room for the other three in the litter as his father, Josie, approached. “My, that’s a homely one, t’isnt it?” asked Josie.
“Tis,” agreed Mariclipso, noting the lack of magnificent brown striping that adorned the golden fur of the other three. “Perhaps he is cursed.”
“Oh, screw this,” thought JC, so he implanted a magnificent set of stripes upon his person from a shower of golden light beamed from a distant star.
Mariclipso and Josie were stunned. “A gift from God himself,” exclaimed Mariclipso.
“Or Dog Satan,” grumbled Josie.
Soon after, an entourage appeared, claiming they were directed to Mariclipso and Josie’s tent by a star, probably the one JC had used to adorn himself with magnificent stripes.
“What are you selling?” asked an annoyed Mariclipso.
“We have many trinkets,” said one, a tall, wise cat wearing a pointed cap full of stars. “But we bring them as gifts for the immaculate feline kitty in your presence.”
“I have this fancy scepter,” said another, also wearing a pointed cap.
Another said, “I have upon my person the largest lawn dart on all of Felinia.” He unloaded a large burlap bag he had been dragging from his shoulder and opened it. He struggled to pull something out of it.
“I have a jar of pickles” smiled the first cat, extending his arms and holding the jar in both paws.
Mariclipso and Josie were too distracted to notice the pickles, however, because the cat with the burlap bag was grunting mightily as he struggled to pull something out of it. When he finally did, he jumped into the air about twenty feet and landed in front of them with a stupid grin.
“If I can easily loft the lawn dart into the air, this means your child is the savior,” he exclaimed. “May I anoint your small child with this frankenstench to begin the process?” the lawn dart cat asked Mariclipso.
He extracted a foul-smelling herb from a small pouch strapped to his waist.
Mariclipso shrugged her shoulders. The lawn dart cat reached toward the infant kitty and dabbed his nose with the frankenstench. This launched JC several feet into the air as he reacted to the horrific smell. His screeches are said to have moved mountains.
“What a bunch of nonsense,” scoffed Josie as he walked to the lawn dart. He tried to move it, but it wouldn’t budge.
The lawn dart cat laughed mockingly, pirouetted, then returned to the dart. “Are you prepared for the outcome?” he asked Josie, who stared incredulously at the mad cat.
“Whatever, dude, I’ve got til sunset to find me some mice for dinner, so if you’ll excuse me…”
The lawn dart cat laughed again, this time uproariously, as he reached down for the lawn dart. “Light as a feather,” he said as he easily lifted it into the air. When he threw it with similar ease, the dart sailed through the sky like a kite riding the tailwind of a missile.
“And there you have it,” said the lawn dart cat. “You’d do well to listen to the lad whenever he speaks. The weight of the world is upon you.”
Several years passed quietly as JC grew into an adult cat person. He became known in his small village as a skilled carpenter, and his appreciative parents moved into a large cabin he built.
“I must leave now, mother, for many cats have gone astray,” he said one day.
Mariclipso sobbed at this but had understood since the day the lawn dart had soared that his was a ritual that he must complete at all costs, even if it meant his demise.
He bid his parents farewell and began his long journey. To where? He did not yet know.
He spent 40 cat days in the desert without food or water (there wasn’t much water on Felinia, anyway, because cats don’t like water). Exhausted, he began to crawl on all fours like the cats of yore.
“Ah ha!” came a voice skimming through the wilderness. “If you’re really the cat god, you should be able to create food from the rocks in the soil.”
JC answered, “It is written: ‘Cat shall not live on mice alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
Then the devil dog barked loudly, and took JC to the holiest city in Felinia, to the highest point of the highest temple. “If you are Cat Jesus,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:
“ ‘He will command his angels concerning you,
and they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your paw against a stone.’ ”
Cat Jesus (that’s what we’re calling him now) answered him, “It is also written: ‘Dogs shall be banished forever to a strange, polluted planet in the far reaches of the universe, where they will be embarrassingly subservient until the end of time.’ ”
The devil dog then took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the splendor of the kingdoms of Felinia. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”
Instead, Cat Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Dog Satan! For it is written: ‘The highlight of your day shall come at the end of a leash! And you shall look forward to that moment of each day with wild abandon.’ ”
Then the devil dog left him, and angels came and attended him and presented him with copious amounts of catnip, which sent him into a seven-year hangover.
He woke to the sounds of many cats running and screeching away from a commotion of some kind. Cat Jesus, curious, walked in the opposite direction toward the clamor, where he found a tall, bearded cat person standing in a body of water trying to dunk a very reluctant cat person, who scratched, clawed, and shrieked to get away.
“What are you doing?” Cat Jesus asked the bearded cat.
“It is you!” said the bearded one. “I cannot even strap your sandal, I am so humbled to be before you.”
Cat Jesus looked down at his lower paws and noticed he wasn’t wearing any sandals. “Not a problem,” he replied. “But again, I must inquire. What are you doing? You know cats hate water.”
“Indeed, which is why this ritual is so vital to their sanctification. I am John the Cat Baptist, and I am anointing our cat people while we wait for your arrival, your Lordship.”
The cat he was holding gouged one of his eyes out and escaped, but John the Cat Baptist seemed unshaken.
Behind him, Cat Jesus heard an angry mob. In the mob, he recognized some of the cat people he had seen fleeing the scene moments ago.
“If you are truly Cat Jesus,” said one of them as they approached, “Can you not punish this heathen for dunking our heads in water? For it is said, ‘Cats hate water.’”
Hissing, catcalling, and cat shrieks filled the air. “Off with his head!” said some of them.
Cat Jesus noticed in the crowd the presence of several catfishers, which he could recognize because they were wearing long wigs in an attempt to present themselves as female cats to unsuspecting male cats.
Cat Jesus called them forth. “I shall make you fishers of cats, but of a different sort,” he proclaimed. “And you shall forgive John the Cat Baptist with this, the MannaMice of heaven.” He waved his arms and threw his paws up into the air.
At that, thousands of dead mice fell from the sky onto the shore of the small lake.
The previously angry cats scurried to fetch the thousands of mice that were suddenly strewn across the water’s edge. Many of the cats were mumbling in loud delight as they gnawed at their newly found treasures, “He is Cat Jesus!”
“The messiah?” someone exclaimed.
“It cannot be,” said another. “There is no organ music.”
“There are no organs here, dumbass,” said yet another.
Before Cat Jesus could say or do anything more, all the cat people scurried away, mouse in mouth, to their respective homes.
All that remained were the catfishers.
“We shall follow you to the ends of Felinia,” said one of them. The others nodded. John the Cat Baptist looked especially pleased as the catfishers voluntarily approached for their uncomfortable baptisms.
It is said that all of the great works of Cat Jesus could fill several books, but for one problem.
Cat people can’t write. They say it’s the paws.
Notes
There are a couple of minor Easter eggs in here, but they’re hard to find.
I love dogs and cats. You wouldn’t know it by reading this, methinks.
h/t to the Gospels.
The specific writing prompts were (point-based system):
Prompt #1:
The ritual must be completed at all costs!
Constraints: Worth 1 point each (Choose 4 or roll 4 6-sided dice):
A body of water
A jar of pickles
A wand or scepter
A dart
Sunrise/sunset
The weight of the world
Hardcore Constraint: Worth 2 points (Flip a coin or choose one):
A character defends a guilty party
A character enacts justice upon a guilty party
Literary Device (Worth 5 points):
Obviously, this week’s device must be anthropomorphism!
This month’s promos
Flights of Fancy: Free Science Fiction and Fantasy
This promotion from Indie writers ends October 5th
Dust Bowl Disappearances: A Historical Western Romance
In the village of Guymon, Evelyn's world is turned upside down when she meets the alluring Walter Davis. Amid the swirling dust and simmering tensions, their forbidden attraction ignites into a passionate affair that threatens to consume them both.
Special price for September 9th to 11th: The book will be available for only $1 during this period.
Thanks for checking out these indie writers.
The presence of promos of fellow indie writers does not imply an endorsement. As always, check out reviews, etc., or look for samples.