The Tale of Despereuxxasljaslaj (That's how the French Pronounce shit, don't doubt)

For the past few weeks, Natalia Rahlia had been working on the floor of her bedroom. Math homework, labels for Biology, mini-essays for History – you name it, and it’s certain that the Rahlia did it on the floor of her bedroom. Having not cleaned her bedroom in a considerable, er, while, the floor of her bedroom was not the optimal place to work.

It was covered in pencil shavings because Natalia couldn’t be bothered to stand up and empty her sharpener properly.

It was covered in cat hair, a side-effect of owning a cat.

It was covered in Natalia’s own hair, because she is half cat.

And of course, there is the obvious reason why nobody should ever work on the floor – it is a not a desk and therefore ill suited for writings and such.

Often, she’d work into the wee hours of the morning, surviving on air, water, and the beautiful glowy promise on the hazy horizon that she’d appreciate her own efforts come school time, when she wouldn’t be scrambling to finish. Her spine curved until she resembled some bent old woman and her room became even more disorganized and horrible.

But then, the savior arrived.

Like an angel, she swooped down in all her auntly glory and delivered the gift of a lifetime (or a schoolyear): a beautiful desk, old and a little dusty from having been locked in a desert garage for so many years. OH, THE SHEER AWESOMENESS. Best thing: It was completely free. YESS.



The details are what sold it to Natalia Rahlia. She could marry the desk. And have its babies. And send those babies to college. And bail those babies out of jail.



Nothing could ruin Natalia Rahlia’s spirits. Not the constant deluge of homework, or the fact that she broke her big toe every day whenever she attempted to walk into her closet. NOTHING. Not even another one of her feline’s captured creatures.

AWW, HE’S SORTA CUTE.



Yes, the Cat had managed to catch something again and, like the eternal angel of salvation (SO MANY SAVING ANGELS MAN), she swooped down and, instead of grabbing the rodent, stole away with the cat, sticking her in solitary confinement until she went absolutely loony and started confessing to crimes she didn’t commit.

YOU BLOODTHIRSTY LION, YOU.

While we are on the subject of lions, it should be noted that Natalia Rahlia wept today when she saw Mufasa die. It was horrible, horrible, horrible.

And now she has a headache. The end.