//------------------------------// // A much more private online journal? // Story: TCB: Conversion Cat // by Alex Warlorn //------------------------------// Morons! They're all morons! Some are caught up in their paranoid fantasy of four legged alien invaders, and the other half are idiots talking about their exciting new experiences from changes in their DNA. And no one thinks about the people who have to modify existing technology to cater to people without thumbs! I correct myself, the paranoids do mention our incoming incompatibility, but only long enough to add 'proof' how we should blame the horses (and not any of the other inhabitants of the alien planet apparently) for the end of the world! Idiots! They're all idiots! Men like me are getting up at dawn, and working late, racing against the clock, bloody reinventing humanity's bloody technological marvels for bloody people who won't have bloody thumbs! ... Not what I imagined when I got my engineering degree. No my name isn't Garfield! Shut yer trap or I'll shut it for you! ... My name? ... It's... Ugh! ... I just go by 'M.P.'... Fine! My first name is Mario! No I did not have a mustache! Ugh. Idiots. So why did I become a cat man? My wife, Emeline, was already a 'cat person', so to speak, and we've been happily married for over a decade, so she knew what she was becoming and so did I. Thankfully she picked something with fingers, which thankfully means we avoided a very ugly argument over that one, thank God! We chose to be converted together. If this was some cheap soap opera, one of us would have gotten feet at the last second, and the other wouldn't find out until after, and they'd have started a new relationship with another bipedal feline! Instead, we asked to take the potion side by side or no go, and the conversion center apparently had catered to this demand before. You'd think untransformed people would know better than to pet a fellow citizen, no matter how 'adorable' we are. My wife loves it. I can take it from kids, but when it's an adult? My claws come out. Heh, it's like I have eight built-in switchblades. No I've never used them on anything living. I eat with a fork and knife. I never took martial arts, so I don't think my claws are registered as lethal weapons. The laws are still being written. Why do I only wear a work apron and the sandals with the backs cut off? It's simpler, and faster. And with all this fur, you're going to overheat wearing a shirt in a temperate climate. Washing all this red fur is a headache though, meh, whining isn't going to fix it, and no way in Hell am I becoming a freaky shaved cat! Excuse me, Abyssinian. Emeline wears nothing now but her new built-in fur coat and jewelry! Not sure that's how modesty standards work with the natural born Abyssinian and not the New-Kittens (UGH! Who thought that name up outta be shot!). Not that I'm complaining, and neither are the new decency laws. She was hot before and she's hot now! At least this insanity hasn't taken her from me! That's one black cat I don't mind crossing my path now. Sorry, even Emeline is sick to death of that joke. I don't think I could take the stress if she wasn't here for me. Me and my coworkers meanwhile are working around the clock: computers, Ipads, cars, handguns, fire hose nozzles, all need modifying for the idiots who want hooves instead of hands as the world comes to an end! Uh, no offense to Olsen, he chose unicorn, he said the telekinesis would be useful for us. Jack became a griffin. No he isn't spelling it 'Gack' now, and he's as much a pacifist as he was before. And he and Olsen are still friends. So chew on that all those 'it's my instincts' excuses out there! And Zed.. go ahead, guess... Zebra? Nope! Diamond Dog! And no, he didn't become stupid or lose his grammar! Roy, that ex-hippie he became a dragon! That SOB was convincing more people to become Earth Horses just so the cap on dragon New Whelps would rise (since the more new Earth Horsies, the more new gems to feed new dragons). Oh and he legally changed his name to Red. Still have to work with him. ... Poor Gary. He was one of the poor souls who signed up to become a minotaur. The truth is, if Emeline hadn't insisted we wait for the Cat People Potion, I'd have signed up too. She saved me. Some are insisting on figuring out a way to 'fix' the minotaur potion. More power to them, but time isn't on their side. And it doesn't like me much either. It's the reason nobody is thinking of moving to Mars! That's what you gets for all those budget cuts on NASA. And all this is nothing compared to the trouble of... okay, maybe I do enjoy the challenge of recreating stuff with 'cloud' tech. Thank the Pegasi for sharing, never mind those who think a cat shouldn't meddle with a bird building their nest, geeze. Some things never change. And don't get me started about my time on the team working on getting stuff to work underwater for the seahorses and merhorses. What? Did you think we were the only guys on this project? This is a freakin' world wide effort with hard work from both worlds! ... But we aren't famous like the conversion centers. At least that means there are no conspiracy theories about horses stealing nukes. Not that they need them when their leader controls their world's biggest nuke already. Emeline meanwhile is suggesting we have kittens, not that I object to what you do to get kittens, but hopefully she'll calm down after the novelty of living out her fetish burns out. At least she was willing to hold off until my work was finished. No, what you've heard about cats reproducing and the pain involved does not apply to Abyssinian, it's actually mentioned in the pamphlet. So yeah, between the lunatics with sniper rifles calling themselves heroes, and the delusional hippies, there are people like me trying to condense thousands of years of progress into less than 1% of that! You're welcome!