I shall never forget the first time I met Cat Molester Jones. This was long, long before the world knew the name, before his days of fame and fortune. We were in the gentleman's lavatory of Victoria Station, oh I remember it as if it were yesterday...
'Oi, piss off!' he shouted at me in that high-pitched Welsh voice the world has come to love so dearly.
'What are you doing to that poor cat?'
'The love Agnes and I share is a special, beautiful thing. Why can't the world understand that? Why can't you leave us in peace?'
'Meow,' agreed the tabby he held clenched between his legs.
'Are you sodomising that cat?' I asked him.
'Yes.'
As the cat did not appear to mind particularly, I decided to let him off with a warning. 'Sir, I'm prepared to overlook this matter, but there's a little something you must do for me in return...' I said to him, fondling my bulging package. 'This package is full of chestnuts and sugar plums for the poor orphans at St. Swithin's. I want you to deliver it to them straightaway. Merry Christmas and God bless!'
He took hold of my package gingerly, looking for all the world as if he were afraid it would spit at him. 'Are you sure you don't have your genitals in this box?'
'Cross my heart,' I reassured him, dropping my trousers to allay his fears.
'Oh, jolly good!' He stuck out his hand. 'The name's Jones. Cat Molester Jones.'
We shook heartily. There can be quite a draft in those Underground stations. 'My name's Creamery, of Vestal Virgin Records. Pleased to meet you. What a singular name you have. How did you come by it?'
'Found it in a dumpster on Camden High Street. Ha!' He slapped his Welsh knees jollily(illilliyllyillyillillilly). 'No, I'm just having a bit of fun with you. My name is my given own. It was all my mother's idea. I was doomed from the start, really.'
'Your mother must have been a remarkable woman.'
'She'd been hoping for a girl, you see. I came as a great disappointment to her. When I was five years old I tried to remove my own genitals to make it up to her. Fortunately or unfortunately as the case may be, my parents never allowed me any object sharper than a rubber spatula, which as I soon found out has very limited powers to pierce human flesh. They kept me in a bucket in the back room until I was 28. That spatula was my only friend.'
'How trying that must have been for you.'
'We were dreadfully poor, you see. Living as we did on the wild Welsh moors, we couldn't afford things like indoor plumbing. We all used to use my bucket instead. But they were all jolly good sports about it; they never aimed for my eyes. Never more than twice a day.'
'I think you're terribly brave. Please, if it's not too painful, do go on...'
'Not at all,' he beamed. 'Agnes and I,' as he pistoned his hips the tabby let out a satisfied purr, 'found each other, as if Fate had drawn us together, and in the throes of our mad young love we eloped. And here we are.'
I tried to sniff back my tears manfully. 'Mr Jones, your story has touched me like no other. I sense in you a rare dignity and brilliance, shining forth like a great forth-shining light shining forthfully, that must be shared with the world.'
'I molest cats.'
'Mr Jones, I'm going to make you a star.'
'What's all this, then?' asked the helmeted bobby as he strode into the lavatory. It was an honest mistake; what else could he think, seeing a man sodomising a tabby cat watched by another man with no trousers grasping his massive package in a public washroom? The magistrate was very understanding, and we all had a good laugh about it when we got out of prison three years later.
The rest was history.
.
.
©2001 Luke Gutzwiller. I really mean it. Violation may result in the unwanted collapse of your state vector. I have never even been to Victoria Station, before you get any ideas.