(Sammy, the Gat, is a continuing story.)
I hit the tarmac, and my new go-to girl, Cat, and I finally cruise into Casablancaville. ETA minus one. The Feisty Feline boots me from the catbird seat and back-alleys us to a seedy sand-spit hotel with a rock-’em-sock-’em fully-stocked saloon. Cat sidles up to a dolly standin’ guard over the bottles who walks Hello Kitty to a side door. I fig I could use a belt from one of those jugs with the uptown labels, so I belly up to the bar and digitize a Stoli. Next thing I know, I’m flat on my puss with an AK 47 nuzzlin’ my think tank. I’m guessin’ C’blancans thumbs-up Russian rat-a-tats, but not their booze.
(Click to catch up on Sammy, the Gat.)
THE GATIONARY of Sammy Speak.
AK 47: n. assault rifle developed in Russia. catbird seat: n. position of importance.
digitize: v. point finger. dolly: n. woman. Hello Kitty: n. Japanese fictional character.
Stoli: n. Stolichnaya (Russian) vodka.
(Photo by Ted Strutz. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Friday Fictioneers, May 8, 2013.)
Introducing SAMMY, THE CAT (with a capital C)
(Photo by Michael Wittich)
I am Sammy, the Cat, and I was named after that world-renowned hip hit man, Sammy, the Gat. I’m only three weeks old, but as you can see, I’m a pretty ferocious fellow, and with my mentor havin’ already seven notches on his gun butt, I have a first-class rep to match. So far, small insects are my prey, but I see bigger game in my future. Stay tuned.