Oh, I forgot to read the bit in the next block. I never get why they break up sentences like this...
They lived in a nice clean house which had flowers all around it, except where the door was. But they couldn’t be happy because they were so very lonely.
Relatable. I think.
“If we only had a cat!” sighed the very old woman. “A cat?” asked the very old man. “Yes, a sweet little fluffy cat,” said the very old woman. “I will get you a cat, my dear,” said the very old man.
[ he chuckles; it's amazing. the sun is coming out. like sure, everything is still cold and sterile and smells like death, but right now: cats. also right now: feeling sorry for a fictional old couple, maybe. ]
Damn, I wonder how he's gonna come back with a million.
[ he just had to add in his one-brain-celled commentary. very important. ]
And he set out over the hills to look for one. He climbed over the sunny hills. He trudged through the cool valleys. He walked a long, long time and at last he came to a hill which was quite covered with cats.
There's a picture here where he's just walking over these giant hilly grasslands. It's pretty. And. The next page has him on the hill with all the cats. It's like. If pixels on a screen were cats. It's not just covered, it's packed side to side. I think I'd actually hate seeing that in person, but. Well, anyway.
Cats here, cats there, Cats and kittens everywhere, Hundreds of cats, Thousands of cats, Millions and billions and trillions of cats.
It's called Millions of Cats, so there was gonna be at least two million.
[ he huffs, 70% sort of laughing and 30% a statement with the finality of "so there." ]
You gotta take a picture of that shit. That's a whole lotta fuckin' cats.
[ time to stare at the ceiling. clear his mind a little bit, as a treat. no hospital. no waiting to get a nerve block for a ruptured disc that he is treating with the gravity of open heart surgery that wouldn't even bother him if it was literally anywhere else besides the cold white death box. just a horrifying and fascinating landscape of cats. ]
There are so many kinds here. White ones. Black ones. Long-haired. Bushy. All kinds. Any kind you could think of, really. ( he's making this up, but that's how you read stories to someone. )
“Oh,” cried the old man joyfully, “Now I can choose the prettiest cat and take it home with me!” So he chose one. It was white. But just as he was about to leave, he saw another one all black and white and it seemed just as pretty as the first. So he took this one also.
That's his first mistake. You can't pick the prettiest cat out of trillions, you'd have to look at all of 'em first. And rank them. It'd take fuckin' forever.
[ still giving in-depth analysis of this story while trying to breathe and play the "pretend i'm anywhere but here" game.
(although, this does make him take a moment to wonder if winky's okay, while simultaneously remembering that winky ✨ isn't even a cat. ✨) ]
Well, that seems to be what he's realizing, no? He's look at the next cat already thinking that one is also pretty.
But then he saw a fuzzy grey kitten way over here which was every bit as pretty as the others so he took it too. And now he saw one way down in a corner which he thought too lovely to leave so he took this too.
These pictures are actually really cute. I remember these best. He's just going along and there are cats in his arms and on his shoulders.
Well, they're a pretty established couple, looks like. I don't think they'd be together if she didn't understand him in some way already.
( gee, it's almost like familiarity breeds fondness. )
I'll show you next time you're here. And we can read it together again.
And now, over there, he saw a cat which had brown and yellow stripes like a baby tiger. “I simply must take it!” cried the very old man, and he did.
So it happened that every time the very old man looked up, he saw another cat which was so pretty he could not bear to leave it, and before he knew it, he had chosen them all.
[ oh no, did this turn into a conversation that has another more secret meaning??? (not really, but maybe alex should focus on remembering the familiarity breeds fondness. make a note of it.) ]
So he did hold up and rank all trillion cats. I took it back, but I'm taking it back again — that's indecisive. [ snort, followed by ] But yeah, if his wife knew him, she was probably like "you're not coming back any time soon, I'm just gonna make some tea and chill the fuck out."
[ hm... he wishes he could have some "chill the fuck out"-flavored tea. it's probably a chamomile. ]
( maybe it tastes like chamomile. but more importantly, this is bucky's attempt at substituting for the "chill the fuck out" tea. )
Yeah, she knew what she signed up for. But hey, that's love for you.
( so is this. )
And so he went back over the sunny hills and down through the cool valleys, to show all his pretty kittens to the very old woman. It was very funny to see those hundreds and thousands and millions and billions and trillions of cats following him.
They came to a pond. “Mew, mew! We are thirsty!” cried the Hundreds of cats, Thousands of cats, Millions and billions and trillions of cats.
“Well, here is a great deal of water,” said the very old man. Each cat took a sip of water, and the pond was gone!
[ it's not chamomile (or fireball), but he's trying his best to focus on bucky and bucky's voice and the cat story instead of the cold he can feel all the way down in his bone marrow.
hey, wait, is this relationship commentary more of the conversation that's actually about another thing? (does bucky still like him even after he panicked and threw a temper tantrum like a child? (no alexander, he hates you. he hates you so much he's reading you a bedtime story to make you feel better. dumbass.)) ]
Shit, dude... the thing about cats ruining the environment is real. I bet the picture's fuckin' sick, though.
( oblivious to any of the rest of alex's inner thoughts, bucky chuckles to his response. )
Yeah, it's a little wild. They're all around like...the pit where the pond was, and it's just an empty ditch. There's so many of them. It's kind of overwhelming. I can't imagine seeing that in person. It'd be a little scary.
“Mew, mew! Now we are hungry!” said the Hundreds of cats, Thousands of cats, Millions and billions and trillions of cats.
“There is much grass on the hills,” said the very old man. Each cat ate a mouthful of grass and not a blade was left!
Aren't cats carnivores, though? Is this some Grimm fairy tales shit, are they gonna eat the old guy? This better not be some Grimm fairy tales shit.
[ when you accidentally foreshadow? while also going "i know james bucky barnes is not reading a story about a man getting eaten alive by cats to help me come down from a panic attack." which, you know, is true. ]
They're obligate carnivores. Plants have decent nutrition for them, just not enough. Most carnivores can process vegetation also though. Like cause if you eat your prey and they have that in their stomach, you still have to digest it, right? You would just get the runs suddenly over it.
( how did they veer into this direction? no one knows. this just seems to be the nerdy stuff they talk about though. )
It's not Grimm, no. It's...well, you'll see.
Pretty soon the very old woman saw them coming. “My dear!” she cried, “What are you doing? I asked for one little cat and what do I see?—
“Cats here, cats there, Cats and kittens everywhere, Hundreds of cats, Thousands of cats, Millions and billions and trillions of cats.”
...I like that she's kinda like "Sweetie...this isn't what I asked for." We're not great listeners are we? Dudes.
[ alex is determined to ruin this book with his galaxy brain thoughts and ask some more important questions, like ] If there are trillions of cats, wouldn't the ground be covered in shit? Like, they're all just wading through shit? I bet it smells straight up gnarly. I know it's a kids book, but think about it.
[ he sits back and listens. breathing is easier (as long as he doesn't think about how a field full of millions of cats' cat shit would smell — although, would it be better than a hospital? maybe it's a lateral move for him personally.) can he relax-relax? no, because every time he shifts a little it feels like an icepick being driven through his spine, but adrenaline and acquired pain tolerance had him able to half-ignore it until now. but that's life. a lifetime trading out horrible sensations and horrible feelings: the alex story 💀 ]
She's not pissed, but I don't think she's excited about it either. That's still kinda something in the bet we didn't make.
No...really. They wouldn't take a dump when they're being watched. Most animals are most vulnerable when they're popping a squat, so. If anything, they're probably holding it in like crazy and suffering from being back up.
But yeah. Like I said, she knew what she signed up for. It's like, y'know, if I make a bad pun you shouldn't be surprised. Or something like that.
( ...those things are totally equivalent. )
“But we can never feed them all,” said the very old woman, “They will eat us out of house and home.” “I never thought of that,” said the very old man, “What shall we do?”
Here it comes. The story climax.
The very old woman thought for a while and then she said, “I know! We will let the cats decide which one we should keep.”
[ once again, alex is squinting to himself while thinking of the gut biomes of millions of cats, but also wondering how his mind got here in the first place. he arrives at the reasoning of, well, these cats are traveling away from their shit land (because they have to shit at some point, james!!), so it wouldn't be in the book. obviously.
he's so busy still thinking of cat shit logistics it takes him a minute to catch up to what bucky is saying in the present, about puns. ]
You've been making puns this whole time. If this guy was bringing home millions of animals the whole time, they wouldn't be lonely in the first place. [ 🌌🧠 ]
[ he wants to call the guy a dumbass. but before he does, the plot twist drops??? the fuck?? ]
How the fuck is that supposed to work? Those cats aren't gonna have some whole fuckin'... cat... democracy...
Yeah, but like if I made a really bad joke. Like a really, really, really, really bad one, it's kind of...similar. Sorta.
( look.
shut up. he's reading. )
“Oh yes,” said the very old man, and he called to the cats, “Which one of you is the prettiest?” “I am!” “I am!” “No, I am!” “No, I am the prettiest!” “I am!” “No, I am! I am! I am!” cried hundreds and thousands and millions and billions and trillions of voices, for each cat thought itself the prettiest.
[ alex is giving bucky a Look, only to remember his judgmental looks can't be heard over the phone. r.i.p. he loves his nerdy, corny ass but no... ]
Shit dude, this is like the musical Cats meets the Hunger Games. ... Cats is like a bunch of dead cats having a dance-off to see who goes to heaven, a Hunger Games is a book where a bunch of kids fight to death in an arena, like, gladiator-style. This is about to be some Cats Hunger Games, isn't it?
( a beat where bucky considers why this is his favorite still. then: )
It's a little gruesome, I guess. In a certain way. But this is the kind of life I always understood. Dog eat dog. Or cat eat cat, in this case. Especially growing up in New York, you saw the eat eating the rich very often, in the papers, and the poor were always just collateral. And...that's just why I'm so literal, I guess. Things were just that way before. And that was how you dealt with things.
( there's a bit of a uncertain noise as he rubs the back of his neck anxiously. )
...sorry, if it's not to your taste I can stop and find something else.
What? No, I wasn't judging, dude. I wanna hear about the cat murder. That's way more interesting than the cats eating the old guy because he, I dunno, liked cats too much or some shit. [ pause, then ] Also, uh, I hate to break it to about society, but there was never a point where it wasn't that. You can want it to be better, but you know it won't be. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, if you don't eat a dog some dog'll eat you. Or whatever.
[ did the metaphor run away with him? maybe it ran away with him. ]
Anyway, that's not even— I know you're not about to fuckin' end the story right before the cat murder. That's edging, I fucking swear.
Edging? ( no, alex, don't explain that right now. )
I know it's not different now, but people are taught differently. People are more...I dunno. Blindly optimistic and hopeful about...a lot.
Anyway, I wasn't...trying to talk about this. Um. I'll continue.
And they began to quarrel.
They bit and scratched and clawed each other and made such a great noise that the very old man and the very old woman ran into the house as fast as they could. They did not like such quarreling. But after a while the noise stopped and the very old man and the very old woman peeped out of the window to see what had happened.
[ alex like: what's up, not me, i'm dead inside /dabs. but the most important thing is that they aren't going to talk about this anymore. just "cat murder." ✨ ]
Did... [ he laughs a laugh that is immediately cut short as he hisses in pain from moving too much (i.e. at all.) ] I'm just— "they did not like such quarreling." [he laughs again, but it's a carefully contained "how can i cause the least movement possible" snicker.] It's such an understatement, right? Like these cats are going feral and the couple's just like "Oh dang, that's annoying, let's go inside." And I know, I know, kids book. But still.
Hey, it's a fair response. I'd probably wanna get the hell outta dodge too, if they were starting to fight.
( while he sounds amused, there's another pause before he decides to add: ) I don't really like arguing either. It's.
...well, anyway.
They could not see a single cat!
“I think they must have eaten each other all up,” said the very old woman, “It’s too bad!” “But look!” said the very old man, and he pointed to a bunch of high grass. In it sat one little frightened kitten. They went out and picked it up. It was thin and scraggly.
“Poor little kitty,” said the very old woman. “Dear little kitty,” said the very old man, “how does it happen that you were not eaten up with all those hundreds and thousands and millions and billions and trillions of cats?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Oh, I forgot to read the bit in the next block. I never get why they break up sentences like this...
They lived in a nice clean house which had flowers all around it, except where the door was. But they couldn’t be happy because they were so very lonely.
Relatable. I think.
“If we only had a cat!” sighed the very old woman.
“A cat?” asked the very old man.
“Yes, a sweet little fluffy cat,” said the very old woman.
“I will get you a cat, my dear,” said the very old man.
See, your cats are coming.
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Damn, I wonder how he's gonna come back with a million.
[ he just had to add in his one-brain-celled commentary. very important. ]
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And he set out over the hills to look for one. He climbed over the sunny hills. He trudged through the cool valleys. He walked a long, long time and at last he came to a hill which was quite covered with cats.
There's a picture here where he's just walking over these giant hilly grasslands. It's pretty. And. The next page has him on the hill with all the cats. It's like. If pixels on a screen were cats. It's not just covered, it's packed side to side. I think I'd actually hate seeing that in person, but. Well, anyway.
Cats here, cats there,
Cats and kittens everywhere,
Hundreds of cats,
Thousands of cats,
Millions and billions and trillions of cats.
You think it'll only be a million?
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[ he huffs, 70% sort of laughing and 30% a statement with the finality of "so there." ]
You gotta take a picture of that shit. That's a whole lotta fuckin' cats.
[ time to stare at the ceiling. clear his mind a little bit, as a treat. no hospital. no waiting to get a nerve block for a ruptured disc that he is treating with the gravity of open heart surgery that wouldn't even bother him if it was literally anywhere else besides the cold white death box. just a horrifying and fascinating landscape of cats. ]
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There are so many kinds here. White ones. Black ones. Long-haired. Bushy. All kinds. Any kind you could think of, really. ( he's making this up, but that's how you read stories to someone. )
“Oh,” cried the old man joyfully, “Now I can choose the prettiest cat and take it home with me!” So he chose one. It was white.
But just as he was about to leave, he saw another one all black and white and it seemed just as pretty as the first. So he took this one also.
no subject
[ still giving in-depth analysis of this story while trying to breathe and play the "pretend i'm anywhere but here" game.
(although, this does make him take a moment to wonder if winky's okay, while simultaneously remembering that winky ✨ isn't even a cat. ✨) ]
no subject
But then he saw a fuzzy grey kitten way over here which was every bit as pretty as the others so he took it too.
And now he saw one way down in a corner which he thought too lovely to leave so he took this too.
These pictures are actually really cute. I remember these best. He's just going along and there are cats in his arms and on his shoulders.
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[ it's faux-whining, but he still wants to see the pictures that bucky's going on about. read him kid books, he is become kid 💀 ]
Money on his wife being pissed when he comes back with a trillion cats instead of one.
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( gee, it's almost like familiarity breeds fondness. )
I'll show you next time you're here. And we can read it together again.
And now, over there, he saw a cat which had brown and yellow stripes like a baby tiger.
“I simply must take it!” cried the very old man, and he did.
So it happened that every time the very old man looked up, he saw another cat which was so pretty he could not bear to leave it, and before he knew it, he had chosen them all.
no subject
So he did hold up and rank all trillion cats. I took it back, but I'm taking it back again — that's indecisive. [ snort, followed by ] But yeah, if his wife knew him, she was probably like "you're not coming back any time soon, I'm just gonna make some tea and chill the fuck out."
[ hm... he wishes he could have some "chill the fuck out"-flavored tea. it's probably a chamomile. ]
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Yeah, she knew what she signed up for. But hey, that's love for you.
( so is this. )
And so he went back over the sunny hills and down through the cool valleys, to show all his pretty kittens to the very old woman.
It was very funny to see those hundreds and thousands and millions and billions and trillions of cats following him.
They came to a pond.
“Mew, mew! We are thirsty!” cried the
Hundreds of cats,
Thousands of cats,
Millions and billions and trillions of cats.
“Well, here is a great deal of water,” said the very old man.
Each cat took a sip of water, and the pond was gone!
no subject
hey, wait, is this relationship commentary more of the conversation that's actually about another thing? (does bucky still like him even after he panicked and threw a temper tantrum like a child? (no alexander, he hates you. he hates you so much he's reading you a bedtime story to make you feel better. dumbass.)) ]
Shit, dude... the thing about cats ruining the environment is real. I bet the picture's fuckin' sick, though.
no subject
Yeah, it's a little wild. They're all around like...the pit where the pond was, and it's just an empty ditch. There's so many of them. It's kind of overwhelming. I can't imagine seeing that in person. It'd be a little scary.
“Mew, mew! Now we are hungry!” said the
Hundreds of cats,
Thousands of cats,
Millions and billions and trillions of cats.
“There is much grass on the hills,” said the very old man.
Each cat ate a mouthful of grass and not a blade was left!
...yeah, maybe more than a little scary.
no subject
[ when you accidentally foreshadow? while also going "i know james bucky barnes is not reading a story about a man getting eaten alive by cats to help me come down from a panic attack." which, you know, is true. ]
no subject
( how did they veer into this direction? no one knows. this just seems to be the nerdy stuff they talk about though. )
It's not Grimm, no. It's...well, you'll see.
Pretty soon the very old woman saw them coming.
“My dear!” she cried, “What are you doing? I asked for one little cat and what do I see?—
“Cats here, cats there,
Cats and kittens everywhere,
Hundreds of cats,
Thousands of cats,
Millions and billions and trillions of cats.”
...I like that she's kinda like "Sweetie...this isn't what I asked for." We're not great listeners are we? Dudes.
no subject
[ he sits back and listens. breathing is easier (as long as he doesn't think about how a field full of millions of cats' cat shit would smell — although, would it be better than a hospital? maybe it's a lateral move for him personally.) can he relax-relax? no, because every time he shifts a little it feels like an icepick being driven through his spine, but adrenaline and acquired pain tolerance had him able to half-ignore it until now. but that's life. a lifetime trading out horrible sensations and horrible feelings: the alex story 💀 ]
She's not pissed, but I don't think she's excited about it either. That's still kinda something in the bet we didn't make.
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But yeah. Like I said, she knew what she signed up for. It's like, y'know, if I make a bad pun you shouldn't be surprised. Or something like that.
( ...those things are totally equivalent. )
“But we can never feed them all,” said the very old woman, “They will eat us out of house and home.”
“I never thought of that,” said the very old man, “What shall we do?”
Here it comes. The story climax.
The very old woman thought for a while and then she said, “I know! We will let the cats decide which one we should keep.”
no subject
he's so busy still thinking of cat shit logistics it takes him a minute to catch up to what bucky is saying in the present, about puns. ]
You've been making puns this whole time. If this guy was bringing home millions of animals the whole time, they wouldn't be lonely in the first place. [ 🌌🧠 ]
[ he wants to call the guy a dumbass. but before he does, the plot twist drops??? the fuck?? ]
How the fuck is that supposed to work? Those cats aren't gonna have some whole fuckin'... cat... democracy...
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( look.
shut up. he's reading. )
“Oh yes,” said the very old man, and he called to the cats, “Which one of you is the prettiest?”
“I am!”
“I am!”
“No, I am!”
“No, I am the prettiest!” “I am!”
“No, I am! I am! I am!” cried hundreds and thousands and millions and billions and trillions of voices, for each cat thought itself the prettiest.
...I think you know where this is going now.
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Shit dude, this is like the musical Cats meets the Hunger Games. ... Cats is like a bunch of dead cats having a dance-off to see who goes to heaven, a Hunger Games is a book where a bunch of kids fight to death in an arena, like, gladiator-style. This is about to be some Cats Hunger Games, isn't it?
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( a beat where bucky considers why this is his favorite still. then: )
It's a little gruesome, I guess. In a certain way. But this is the kind of life I always understood. Dog eat dog. Or cat eat cat, in this case. Especially growing up in New York, you saw the eat eating the rich very often, in the papers, and the poor were always just collateral. And...that's just why I'm so literal, I guess. Things were just that way before. And that was how you dealt with things.
( there's a bit of a uncertain noise as he rubs the back of his neck anxiously. )
...sorry, if it's not to your taste I can stop and find something else.
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[ did the metaphor run away with him? maybe it ran away with him. ]
Anyway, that's not even— I know you're not about to fuckin' end the story right before the cat murder. That's edging, I fucking swear.
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I know it's not different now, but people are taught differently. People are more...I dunno. Blindly optimistic and hopeful about...a lot.
Anyway, I wasn't...trying to talk about this. Um. I'll continue.
And they began to quarrel.
They bit and scratched and clawed each other and made such a great noise that the very old man and the very old woman ran into the house as fast as they could. They did not like such quarreling.
But after a while the noise stopped and the very old man and the very old woman peeped out of the window to see what had happened.
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Did... [ he laughs a laugh that is immediately cut short as he hisses in pain from moving too much (i.e. at all.) ] I'm just— "they did not like such quarreling." [he laughs again, but it's a carefully contained "how can i cause the least movement possible" snicker.] It's such an understatement, right? Like these cats are going feral and the couple's just like "Oh dang, that's annoying, let's go inside." And I know, I know, kids book. But still.
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( while he sounds amused, there's another pause before he decides to add: ) I don't really like arguing either. It's.
...well, anyway.
They could not see a single cat!
“I think they must have eaten each other all up,” said the very old woman, “It’s too bad!”
“But look!” said the very old man, and he pointed to a bunch of high grass. In it sat one little frightened kitten. They went out and picked it up. It was thin and scraggly.
“Poor little kitty,” said the very old woman.
“Dear little kitty,” said the very old man, “how does it happen that you were not eaten up with all those hundreds and thousands and millions and billions and trillions of cats?”
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