Lois Letchford reads Chapter 2 of Anne Fine's The Killer Cat Runs Away, where a cat breaks a TV while chasing a bumblebee, blames the humans around it, and launches into a defensive rant after being called a parasite. The cat lists actual parasites like tapeworms and fleas to prove it isn't one, then threatens petty revenge.
Chapters
Hello, I'm Lois Letchford, author of the book Reversed: A Memoir and literacy problem solver, reading from the book The Killer Cat Runs Away, written by Anne Fine. Chapter 2: Parasite. Okay, so cover me with jam and put me in a box. I broke their new television. It was an accident. I didn't mean to tip the screen over like that. I was after a bumblebee, and if that stupid television hadn't been in the way, I would have got it too. No one likes being stung by bees, and they should be grateful to me. And whose fault was it? that the new slim-wide high-definition screen wasn't fixed on its stand more safely in the first place. Yes, that's right. It was Ellie's dad's fault, not mine. And you only had to watch, oh, that'll probably be all right, fixing the screen so loosely onto the base to know that it was almost bound to fall off. Even without someone like me crashing into it hard. And whose fault was it that I didn't manage to get over the screen in my amazing leap? That's right, it was Ellie's mother's fault. She is the one who feeds me. If she has got it wrong and let me get a smidgen Over my ideal jumping weight. Who is to blame? Clearly not me. And you should have heard Ellie's dad when he came in and saw the damage. Talk about wild! This screen is ruined! Ruined! Claw marks all over, and both the top corners chipped. Look what that great, fat, stupid, tiresome, idiotic, unpleasant, vicious, dangerous parasite has done now! Excuse me? Parasite? Now that's not nice. In case you don't already know, parasites are all those nasty things like nits and tapeworms and fleas and ticks That do nothing except sponge off other people to stay alive. I am not like that. I let myself be stroked. I let myself be fed. I let myself be cuddled. Only by Ellie, and only sometimes. But you take my point. I am not a parasite. How dare he! I won't put up with rudeness like that. I tell you, next time he looks in his chest of drawers, he's going to find hairs over everything. On all his socks and on his pants and vests. Don't think I can't lick quite enough hairs off me to make his underwear disgusting. I can pay him back.
