(C) Daily Kos This story was originally published by Daily Kos and is unaltered. . . . . . . . . . . Caturday Pootie Diary: The Cask of Amonticatnip [1] ['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.'] Date: 2023-10-07 "It’s so hot,” I complained. “Too hot,” Freddie agreed. “It’s October. It shouldn’t be this hot,” I said, fanning myself with my hand. “It should be cold when it’s Obtover,” Freddie agreed. I snorted. “October is the month,” I explained. “It’s one of the ways humans track time.” Freddie shook his head. “Humans put too much weight on time.” “That’s true,” I said. “But it is too hot. That’s still true.” “We should just go somewhere where it’s colder,” he said, perking up with this insight. I looked over at the book of Poe stories on the shelf. “Like an underground crypt?” I wondered. “A vault where rare wine is stored?” A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦 Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul. Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community. Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people. Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly. There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please remember that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw. “That’s a cold place?” “Cold and damp. You’d have to be really careful not to get trapped down there.” He shivered a little. “Do you want to hear a story about two men who go into a crypt in search of rare sherry?” “Is that like catnip?” I nodded. “It’s exactly like catnip.” “So it starts in Italy during the carnival season. That means everyone is out in the streets celebrating and our narrator is dressed in fancy clothes and wearing a mask.” “I don’t like costumes much,” Freddie sniffed. “I know. But humans like to dress up sometimes. Anyway, this man, Montresor, explains to us that another man, named Fortunato, has gravely insulted him. Insulted him so badly that revenge is his only option.” “What did he do?” “Montresor never explains. But whatever it was, it was enough for him to justify Fortunato’s murder.” Freddie gasped. “So Montresor approaches Fortunato and strikes up a conversation with him. He mentions that he has a cask of a very rare sherry, something he knows will pique the other man’s interest. He casually asks if Fortunato would like to taste this wine, so he can tell him if it really is Amontillado.” “That’s the catnip?” “Yes. It’s very good catnip. Fortunato takes the bait and agrees to follow Montresor down into his family vault.” “That’s where it’s cold and damp,” Freddie confirmed. “And probably moldy too,” I said for extra drama. “Gross!” Freddie cried. “Now Montresor has been planning his revenge for a while and has thought out every detail. He made sure to give the servants the night off to enjoy the carnival celebration so no one was around to see him lure Fortunato to his doom.” “Doom is bad,” Freddie said. “Very,” I agreed. “They went down into the vault where Montresor told Fortunato he had stored the catnip.” “I like catnip,” Freddie told me, tucking his paws under his body. “Well, you should make sure you don’t like it so much you can be doomed by it!” “Oooh!” Freddie shivered. “Keep in mind that Fortunato had already had a lot of catnip, so he was very drunk at this point. As they walked through the vault, he kept up the kind of conversation someone might have with a person they did not like, but didn’t want to be openly mean to. He did manage to insult Montresor several times, insinuating that he was not a Mason like he claimed.” Freddie lifted his head in question. “It’s a secret society,” I explained. “The insinuation was that Fortunato was a member, and Montresor was not.” “I don’t belong to all the cat secret societies, but I don’t get mad about it,” Freddie said. “Cats have secret societies?” I asked, eyebrows lifting. “...no.” “The narrator does a much better job than me describing the vaults they are walking though,” I admitted. “He creates a very dark atmosphere. And he reveals to both us and his prey that the vaults are also a crypt, containing the remains of his family members who died over the years.” “And that’s where he keeps his catnip?” Freddie squeaked. “Um, no, not really. This is the trap.” “Oh, that’s good.” He thought about it. “I guess it’s not good,” he said, finally. “It’s not good for Fortunato,” I said, nodding. “They finally reach the part of the vault that Montresor has prepared. There’s a recess in the wall opening into a very small chamber. It is there that Montresor tells Fortunato he has stored the cask. “An excited and still very drunk Fortunato walks into the chamber, expecting to find a cask of catnip, but there isn’t anything there. It’s then that he realizes that Montresor has chained his foot to the floor!” Freddie gasped. “What happens then?” Freddie asked, his eyes wide. “Then Montresor begins to slowly brick the recessed chamber off.” I looked at him and saw mild confusion. “He builds a wall,” I said, pointing at the low wall in the backyard, “and seals Fortunato in.” “With no catnip?” “Right.” “But he promised him catnip,” Freddie pointed out. “He did! But the catnip was a lie to bait the trap!” “That’s the worst part!” I laughed, petting him between his ears. “I think being buried alive is worse than expecting catnip and not getting it. Fortunato’s last words before he goes silent are: ‘For the love of god, Montresor!’ He says nothing more as Montresor lays the final brick and seals him in forever.” We both went silent for a few minutes, taking in the story. “I think I’d prefer to stay in the heat to going into a cold vault.” “Me too,” I said. Happy Caturday, Peeps! I hope you enjoyed my very bad retelling of a Edgar Allan Poe masterpiece. Freddie sure did. [END] --- [1] Url: https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2023/10/7/2197930/-Caturday-Pootie-Diary-The-Cask-of-Amonticatnip?pm_campaign=front_page&pm_source=trending&pm_medium=web Published and (C) by Daily Kos Content appears here under this condition or license: Site content may be used for any purpose without permission unless otherwise specified. via Magical.Fish Gopher News Feeds: gopher://magical.fish/1/feeds/news/dailykos/