Previously, on DeviantArt: Tasked by the Goddess of Facebook with retrieving the Maltese Meme, our heroine, twilightgrrl69, fought her way valiantly across the turbulent waters of the Gulf of Youtube and the scorching sands of Myspace. But just as she had acquired one of the three ancient login keys needed to unlock the Email Server of Doom, she was captured by the undead minions of the terrible Basement Cat! None who were dragged into the bowels of this legendary LOLcat’s underground lair were ever heard from again. Can our heroine escape his vile clutches?
“I’ll never tell you the location of the Maltese Meme!” she spat, struggling against her bonds in vain. “I’ll die first!” The LOLcat leaned over her, his breath laced with salmon and the tormented souls of small children.
“We can haz ways of makings you talk,” he declared. “Minions! Goez down to teh CostCo and gets me a 54 inch Plasma Screen Television.” He turned back to the girl with an evil smile etched across his furry visage. “Ve shalls sees how bwave you iz when u r staring down teh barrelz of GOATSE!”
twilightgrrl69 shuddered, but regained her composure quickly.
“Do your worst!” she shouted in defiance. “Not even the full force of Encyclopedia Dramatica can make me divulge my secret!”
“Ve shall sees…”
Her limbs became numb and cold. Her vision began to blur at the edges, the sights drained of their color. She knew the truth serum was starting to take affect.
“Queschun number one, mah dear–” Basement Cat began.
“–told you… I’ll never…” she whispered.
“Oh,” he replied, “Am not askin’ where de Maltese Meme iz. All ah wants to knows is… when youse falls in loves wit sumwon, whutz one thingz youse wants themz to haz? Pretty eyez, a sweet smilez, or a gud hart?”
Its a trap! her subconscious screamed, but with drugs coursing through her already overtaxed system, she could not resist the power of the LOLcat’s seductive voice.
“Uhhhh,” she began to respond, groggily, “a sweet… smile?”
“An you considerz yurself: flirty and funny, mellowz, or relly sweetz?”
“…flirty and funny,” she gurgled.
“Finully,” the cat continued, “willz youse forwards thiz quiz to tha rest uv yur facebook frienz?”
“NEVER!!!” she bellowed, ending in an agonized cough.
“Nao I shall tellz youse wich Jonas Brutha u iz,” Basement Cat announced. “Wud u liek that?”
“No! Noooooooo!” she cried. “Mercy… I beg of you… mercy!”
“Mersy? Feh!” the cat replied in disgust. “Basement Cat noes nuthin’ uv mersy! You iz… KEVIN JONAS!”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” she screamed, her eyes beginning to bleed from the sheer shame and degradation of it all.
Sweat rolled down twilightgrrl69′s forehead in rivers. She couldn’t tell if it had been hours, days, or even weeks since the horde of feline marauders had ambushed her outside the ruins of America Online. Her resolve still held, but the fear was steadily rising in her. She hadn’t slept, eaten, showered, or checked her Livejournal friend page – it was only a matter of time before she snapped and told the cute little bastards everything.
“Wouldz youse care fer sum cake, mah dear?” Basement Cat whispered in silken tones. “It relly iz quite delishus.”
“The cake is a lie,” she croaked, fighting hard to keep the scent of sour cream frosting and rich chocolate out of her thoughts.
“R U shure, mah dear?” he crooned, his face only a few inches from her’s. “Iz almost az good az cheezburger.”
“I wouldn’t know,” she mocked, “like all women on the Internet, I’m vegan.” Basement Cat stood on her chest and dug his claws into her flesh malevolently. The pain brought a twisted smile to her face. Another LOLcat in the room cleared his throat.
“Yez?” Basement Cat replied in annoyance. “Whut iz it?”
“Master,” the other cat said, “tortcher – yur doin’ it wrong.”
“Well zen whut wud u sujest, Minion?”
The minion licked the back of his paw for a moment, thinking.
“Res… ress…” it stammered, “resistunce… like thiz requirez… TWO GIRLZ… ONE CUP!”
Waves of horror suddenly ran up and down twilightgrrl69′s body. Her stomach lurched. Images of vomitting muppets and appalled former childstars spun around her head like a level 80 Retribution spec’d Paladin running Alterac Valley on a PVP server at 3AM. (Don’t lie – YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THAT LOOKS LIKE!) She hadn’t dreamed her captors would do something so sinister in any of her most fevered nightmares.
“Monorail Cat,” Basement Cat commanded, “get mez copie uv 2 Girlz 1 Cupz.”
“Sory, sirz,” a squeaky voice replied, “sisdum crashd. We muzt reboots!”
“Damm youse, Windoze!” Basement Cat howled, “Bill Gatez iz historize gratest monsder!”
Windows? She thought. They must be running Microsoft Inquisition 2007! She knew in an instant what she had to do.
“Basement Cat,” she moaned, “yur doin’ it wrong.”
The LOLcat turned to hover over her face again.
“Whutz this?” he asked, confused.
“Your lazy minions,” she responded, adding an extra smear of misery for effect, “they didn’t deprive me of an attachment. Its in my pocket.” The cat stuck his head in her pants pocket, and returned with a file named ‘free_tuna_from_nigeria.exe’.
“Oooooo… free tunaz!” he drooled. “Howz do I getz teh free tunaz!”
“Why don’t you just double click on it and find out?” she smiled. The cat did exactly that. Suddenly, twilightgrrl69′s bonds sprang open. The cat recoiled in horror, the executable dropping from his jaws. Their eyes locked together, a overwhelming look of triumph emanating from hers.
“Fail,” she said flatly.
The LOLcats sat on a cold tile floor, all of them bound up in electrical tape. Somewhere in the distance, water was running. Twilightgrrl69 stood over them, her arms folded under her ample, internet-sized breasts, a self-satisfied smile on her face.
“Hao iz thiz possibul?” bellowed Basement Cat.
“All your base are belong to me,” she replied with a chuckle.
“Whut r u goin’ to does wif us?” Monorail Cat asked in terror.
“Well, kittehs,” she grinned, “its BAF TIME!”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
NEXT WEEK, ON DEVIANTART: twilightgrrl69 has escaped from the minions of Basement Cat, but she is still no closer to recovering the Maltese Meme, and time is running out! Tune in next week as she braves the treacherous comment threats of Slashdot in search of the mysterious Cory Doctorrow! Will she survive? And can a mere dip in the bathtub truly hold back the unholy hordes of Basement Cat?
Daniel Latta
