Light Hearted – Cake or Pie or Timmy

Cake or Pie or Timmy

by

Stephen Schwegler

Kielbasa woke up, jumped off the couch, stretched, used the litter box and fell back to sleep halfway between the bathroom and the living room.

Sausage Link came barreling down the stairs, rounded the corner and found himself sliding across the carpet on his face.

“Huh?” said a confused, but no more than usual, Sausage Link.

“You tripped over me,” said Kielbasa, almost yawning the entire time.

“Why are you in the middle of the floor?”

“Why not?”

“There’s a couch, a cat bed, a pile of important papers and a lap right over there. You could use one of those.”

“Tired of the couch, bed is too small, no one is using the papers right this minute and those are humans. They smell.”

“You smell.”

“So’s your face.”

“Listen, they already put me on medication for that. I can’t help it if I have an infection.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a low blow.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, Big Foot.”

Kielbasa liked to remind Sausage Link that he had large feet all the time. This was due to the extra toe that Sausage Link had on each foot. You’d think having a wider foot would give him better balance, but then you’d be incredibly wrong.

“Jerk!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. What’s the plan for today?”

“Well,” said Sausage Link, “we could either try stealing that pie in the neighbor’s kitchen or we could help Timmy out of that well.”

“Seriously? He’s in the well again? What’s that, like eight times this month?”

“Nine, I’m afraid.”

“Nope, we’re going for the pie. He needs to learn a lesson.”

“But he’s blind.”

“Pssh…”

“But.”

“Pie.”

“But.”

“3.14159…”

“Okay. Pie it is. Didn’t have to bring math into it.”

“Just give me a minute or twenty. I need a nap.”

Three hours later, Kielbasa woke up, kicked Sausage Link in the back of the head and started their mission.

“This cake you speak of?”

“I said it was a pie.”

“I remember cake.”

“Nope. It’s definitely a pie,” asserted Sausage Link.

“Have you even seen a pie?”

“Just the one that we’re going to get now. But it just screams, ‘Pie!’ Therefore, I assume it is one.”

“Well, that’s one more than me, so I guess we’re going to eat a pie. I wish you would have told me sooner.”

Sausage Link thought about correcting him, but decided it would be better if he let it go.

They walked over to the rear of the apartment and descended into a hole in the floor that Kielbasa had covered with one of their scratching posts that they never used. Emerging from the other end they found themselves outside. Kielbasa was immediately terrified.

“Every time?” asked Sausage Link.

“Yes,” replied Kielbasa.

“How come?”

“I always forget how big it is.”

“Listen, we’ll be fine. We’ll stay close to the buildings like always, eat the pie and be back home before anyone realizes. I bet they think we’re still asleep up stairs. They aren’t the brightest humans in the world.”

“Yeah, remember when the hairy one got locked in the bathroom.”

“Right after you…”

“I know. I felt bad, but how was I supposed to know the knob would come off in his hand.”

“Maybe if we weren’t trying to open the door all of the time.”

“Possibly, but you’ve seen the maintenance staff that comes in. You think they know how to actually fix anything? Didn’t they say to run the dryer to get hot water in the upstairs shower? Something about it being next to the pipes, I think.”

“The who?”

“Forget it. So, cake?”

“Pie.”

“Right, but now I really want cake.”

“Maybe they’ll have both. We should get going; I’m starting to get hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. All you do is sleep and cry for food. They feed us 4 times a day. I can’t get any fatter!”

“So then don’t eat all of it.”

“I can’t let it go to waste!”

“True. I guess that would be rather irresponsible.”

“And I didn’t say that I didn’t want to eat it. I don’t want to make the humans feel bad.”

“Why would they feel bad?”

“I don’t know. We there yet?”

“Almost. Just a little further.”

They reached the window without being seen. Luckily it was open, it being a sunny spring day in New Jersey, so they let themselves inside.

Standing on the windowsill, Kielbasa paused and listened to something that caught his attention in the distance.

“Help!” cried the voice. “I’ve fallen in the well again.”

“What is it?” asked Sausage Link, already inside.

“Just Timmy. Poor bastard.”

“Whoa! He’s disabled.”

“And therefore should be more careful in fields that have wells. It’s not like this was the first or even fifth time. He’s blind, not—”

“Stop.”

“Right, right. On my ‘Timmy’s a moron’ tangent again. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Now get in here before someone sees you.”

Kielbasa jumped down, joining Sausage Link on the floor.

“So,” said Sausage Link, “back to the matter at hand.”

“Right… Cake!”

Sausage Link sighed.

“Cakes?”

“Pie!” shouted Sausage Link, awakening the newly acquired puppy the neighbors had recently brought home from the pound.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right again.”

Sausage Link just stared as the part Pit Bull, part Doberman, part Great Dane and part hell hound walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, man,” continued Kielbasa, “no need to give me the silent treatment. You look like one of our owners when the other one is using big words and stuff.” He waved his paw in front of Sausage’s face. “What gives?”

“Excuse me,” asked the neighbor dog, patting Kielbasa on the shoulder. “You mind explaining to me what you’re doing in my master’s house?”

Kielbasa turned around as Sausage Link fell over.

“Oh, hi!” said the one still conscious cat. He had spent the first couple months of his life around dogs so this was nothing new to him. Even the demon part didn’t faze him. “My associate and I were just out for a stroll when we noticed a delightful aroma wafting out into the common grounds just as we happen to be passing by this window.”

“Yeah.”

“And, uh, we thought, perhaps being a little forward in hindsight, that maybe we could come in and…”

“Go on.”

“Enjoy it with our new neighbor?”

Sausage Link woke up and saw Kielbasa still conversing with behemoth and passed out yet again.

“Something wrong with your friend? He keeps falling asleep.”

“Oh, him! He’s just stupi…a narcolep…low blood sugar! He’s a diabetic and needs some sugar. Our owners aren’t home and we can’t get to the treats in the house so we figured we have just as much luck outside. And then we smelt this pie and here we are.”

“Well in that case, please dig in.”

Kielbasa launched himself up onto the table and knocked the pie to the ground. He picked Sausage Link up by the back of the next and dropped the still comatose cat face first into the pastry. He then began to eat around his sleeping brother’s face. Sandy, the neighbor dog, joined in as well. Sausage Link eventually woke up when he found himself unable to breathe due to the massive amounts of pie filling stuck up his nose.

In no time at all the pie was gone, aside from the pieces still stuck to Sausage Link’s head that is. Kielbasa and Sausage Link bid their new friend a fond farewell and made their way home. On the journey Kielbasa informed his cohort of the lie he told and that he would have to pretend to be a diabetic whenever around Sandy.

“How am I supposed to do that?” asked a still bewildered Sausage.

“I don’t know. Falling down a lot seemed to work. Maybe start shaking before.”

Back inside their home the two cats decided it would be best to rest up from such a busy day before dinnertime. When the time came to be fed Kielbasa jumped on top of the counter and was immediately scalded by his evil, heartless owners. But he could see why. On the counter, in a plastic container, sat a magnificent birthday cake. He hopped down and stood next to Sausage Link and whispered in his ear.

“Dude. There’s totally a pie up there!”