The beautician came over a few days ago. As you are aware, Louis Catorze has ruined around 753 of her appointments (this one was the worst), but this doesn’t appear to have put her off from returning. And, before you ask me why I don’t shut him out of the room when the beautician comes, I DO. She’s the one who lets him in because she likes the screaming.
SHE LIKES THE SCREAMING. I’ll just give you a moment to absorb that fact.
This visit was no exception. The beautician was in the middle of telling me about one of her arsey colleagues who is rude to clients, when she stopped and said, “Did you hear that?”
Me: “What?”
Catorze, from somewhere in the distance: “Mwaaaahhhh!”
Me: “Oh no.”
Beautician, calling out: “Hello, Lewis!”
Catorze: “Mwah!”
Beautician: “How are you, baby?”
Catorze: “Mwah!”
[Beautician goes to the door to let him in.]
Me: “Nooo, what are you doing?”
Catorze, thundering into the room: “MWAHHHHHHH!”
And that was that; any faint thought that I may have had about a peaceful appointment, faded like frost on a sunny morning.
However, the ear-bleeding racket was relatively short-lived because, ten minutes or so into the appointment, we heard the distinctive sound of clip-clopping hooves outside.
It’s not often that we have horses in our area, unless people have anticipated trouble and the riot police are on duty. And somehow, despite being thicker than a concrete milkshake, Catorze knew that this wasn’t your typical neighbourhood sound, because he looked highly alarmed and actually stopped screaming.
After a few motionless and silent seconds, the little sod jumped off the bed. I thought he was going underneath it to hide but, in fact, he pitter-pattered downstairs to … do what, exactly? Bid the horses a friendly bonjour? Or scream at them to gerroff his property? We will never know what was going through his tiny mind.
I told Cat Daddy about the horse incident when he arrived home just after my appointment. “Oh yes,” he said. “I saw them. There was a funeral in the church around the corner, and they had a horse-drawn hearse.”
Oh. Mon. Dieu. Screaming at FUNERAL HORSES is probably the only stupid thing Catorze hasn’t yet done. Thank God he didn’t escape out at The Front when the beautician arrived.
Meanwhile – although I don’t like saying “meanwhile” in this context, because it suggests that we are WAITING for Catorze to scream at funeral horses – the AI Bot has been kind enough to fill in the gaps for us:
Cat Daddy: “Maybe Louis thought it was the Horsemen of the Apocalypse coming for him?”
Since Catorze controls the Horsemen, I highly doubt that.
For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com
louiscatorze.com 
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