I poke around the inside of my mouth with a bristled tongue. There it is; the rotting wound where my fang used to live. I'll get it back.
I close my eyes, rest my bloody chin on my crossed arms, and assess our current situation. My master sits next to me, his body throbbing with cellular regeneration. He's a mess. He's in his own mess. Like I said, Ashleigh's piloting the 800 hp comet through the southwestern mountains, taking us somewhere still only she knows. That's alright, I'd let her drag me anywhere.
Xeno's in the front passenger seat hard at work. He's got a hiking lamp strapped around his mohawked head, but I can't see what he's doing with his hands. Cellophane crinkles and powder pours as he experiments. He's still trying to get rid of me, shut me out. I've got a cure for that. I look at my steel claws and flex. They glimmer under the passing freeway lights. I think Xeno caught me brandishing them out of the corner of his eye. Good. Best...be...ware...
I'm not bothered by the sexy, pyrotechnic alien sitting on my other side in the back seat, or the cage in the trunk. You know, the cage with the drunk extraterrestrial slug infested severed cop head wrapped in aluminum foil. Yeah, that one. No, none of these things really concern me that much. What really blows my tiny little mind is how I can have any of these thoughts in the first place. After all, I'm just a fat, lazy cat... Wipe that look off your face or I'll claw it off for you.
Now change my litter, I'm scratching out a book. Ooh, a laser!
Also, check this out!
https://kirkehammond.com/2017/01/24/feel-my-breadths/
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