Authoritis

Authoritis

Marco paced by his mirror. A new craze had just hit Marco, and he
needed ideas. Authors are famous. Authors are rich. Some are not that
famous. And some are not rich. But Marco chose to ignore the fact that
not all authors get fame and fortune straight away.
'I think I'll write a good book this week. Everyone has a good book in
them,' announced Marco. Jon, Marco's owner, knew betterthan to argue
that you can't write a book in a week if you are a cat. He had managed
to sneak the last cupcake out of the fridge, and was eating it before
Marco caught sight of it. Marco looked at the fat, ginger cat in the
mirror. 'I might have an entire library,' said Marco, gently massaging
his massive stomach. Jon spat out the cupcake. Three things made him do
this. How the hell is Marco going to write a library in a week? That
joke did not seem to be a joke to Marco. How come this cupcake is made
out of play dough? 'Marco, a - library....cupcake play dough?' was all
that came out from Jon's mouth. Marco nodded calmly, and proceeded to
put on a mouldy old jacket and to stuff a very old pipe into his mouth.
'Yeff, viff iv how I vant to look in de book jacket,' said Marco. Jon
gaped, and then snorted with laughter. Marco grimaced. 'Is this not the
fashion, Monsieur Snorty?' snapped Marco irritably.
'You look like an old grandad!' exclaimed Jon. Instead of ripping Jon's
socks to bits then and there, Marco looked horrified.
'When did I get married?' Marco said, in a shocked and offended voice.
Jon laughed harder, and fell off his chair. Marco took the opportunity
to rip Jon's clown socks into confetti. And the day ended, without
Marco writing a single book.