I perched on the edge of the windowsill, ears twitching, tail flicking in exact rhythm to the human chaos below. Tonight, the stage was set. The stars outside were dim compared to the brilliance of what was about to unfold: Neko Neko's Doctor Extravaganza.
The inspiration? Last night. The fiery, spicy fiasco. Andrew, panicked, running like a caffeinated omega. Tina, tiny alpha, adorable, suffering in adorable chaos. And me? I, master of observation, had witnessed every moment and decided: this needed dramatization. History would remember it. Neko Neko would not fail.
I leapt down onto the floor and rummaged through my miniature prop box—aka the secret stash behind the sofa. Bandages? Check. Tiny scarf for Tina's imaginary injury? Check. My sock puppet of Andrew? Check. Dramatic flair? Always.
The curtain rises. Scene one: Neko Neko the Doctor, a figure of authority, chaos management, and undeniable fluff.
