There are many a cat, you’re right about that but only one Mustachio. A humble home sat on the corner of 22nd street. Gerald didn’t like much but he payed his taxes and he never killed who he burgled from. He thought thievery was an art and to kill was something distasteful and rather looked unsatisfactory. He was urged to participate once but he had his share of diamonds and told the lady at the bank that she shouldn’t ask him to do something that went beyond his job description. He hated customer service in his line of work.

His house was simple but with one clause. He held up the cat-nip toy mouse towards the bookshelf. Mustachio leapt for it pulling out a book in the process. The correct book. Gerald had a thing for anticipated movements and as the book fell the case slithered up to the second floor revealing a doorway. Inside were diamonds of all colour and size and a gold plated cat tree with a cardboard box next to it. You can guess which Mustachio preferred, he had no respect for Gerald’s profession.

Gerald sat on a gold throne taken from…he forgets which king…and looked out at his piles of treasure. Mustachio caught a moth and looked at a treasure of his own. Both sat in silence. Life was perfect and Gerald thought, that it could be somewhat improved so he played Rihanna’s “Diamonds” and tapped his heavy diamond-cut slipper, now it was perfect.


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