MKMM Preface

 Mr. Kitten Murder Mystery Preface

The fluffy black cat stared at the computer screen for a long time. Then he began to type.
A parrot, a piano, a fish and dead lawyer in a clown suit at the bottom of the stairs--how did it add up to murder? This is the story behind the story that transfixed the nation, the Reality Murders, which gained their sobriquet not because of existential angst, but because--
 Twitch jumped onto the desk, pushed his nose against the screen, and read very slowly. "You writing sounds a little uptight," he said. "What's a sobriquet?"

Kitten stared at the back of Twitch's head. "It means a nickname and is derived from the French word sot, meaning 'foolish,' and the Italian word bricco, meaning an--"


"--ass," Mr. Kitten finished.

"Whatever." Twitch stood on his hind legs and stretched, scraping his claws against the top of the monitor. "So what do angst and existential mean?"

Kitten took a deep breath. "The Danish philosopher Kierkegaard is considered the father of modern existential--"


Kitten spoke in a tight voice. "If you're so interesting, why don't you write it, and I'll just block your view of the screen and ask stupid questions?"


The cats traded places.
Hey, I'm Twitch! Okay, the most exciting thing happened. There was this guy, and he like fell down the, whoa, what does this button do? Comic sans? Hey, look at this, Kitten. TrebuchetCourier. Are you reading this Mr. Kitten? You should use courier and do it all noir like the Maltese Falcon. Okay, I'm gonna open Internet Explorer and go to now. Ha, ha. I love that site. Are you reading this? Ouch, hey, stop it. Hey, HEY, HEY!!!

Two hours later, the cats stared at the computer side by side.

"I'm sorry, I bit you," Mr. Kitten finally said.


"I assume you're sorry you tore my ear."


"Although, I must say, if you hadn't bled on the human's shoe, we wouldn't have had to go to the vet."

Twitch laughed. "If you hadn't cried like a baby, she wouldn't have come running."

"I was trying to get assistance for your injuries"

"Is that also why you peed in the cat carrier?"


"Okay, I'm sorry we fought," Mr. Kitten said. "It's just that my art is important to me. I'm a writer. I want this book to..." Mr. Kitten didn't finish the thought, but Twitch knew what he meant.

"I understand."
Ever since Twitch's picture appeared in the New York Times bestselling book, How to Take Over the Wurld, Mr. Kitten had turned his considerable intellect toward getting on the bestseller list himself. Twitch’s book was a collection of funny cat pictures with captions, taken from the famous website  A book about the murders at Gibbous Manor represented Mr. Kitten’s big opportunity, but he was having a hard time getting started. Twitch understood Kitten's desire to earn fame on his own. And, although Kitten was a pampered housecat, he had had his start on the mean streets of East San Jose, and he had a streak of cruelty it was wise to steer clear of. This was definitely not the time for Twitch to mention how handsome he had looked on icanhascheezburger, posed next to a squirrel, lounging in the garden window, framed by a blooming crepe myrtle tree with the autumn sun shining through his black fur. It would not be wise for Twitch to remind Kitten of his triumph. And it certainly wouldn't make sense to suggest to Kitten that he use Twitch's picture for the cover of his book.

He suggested it anyway.

Three hours later, in separate side by side cages at the overnight emergency vet hospital, Twitch and Mr. Kitten decided to let Chris Hugh write the book.

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