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“Hi there,” I squeaked. “Great to meet you, really. I love cats. I’m definitely a cat person. I’m even one of the few who actually loved that terrible movie they made out of the musical. So catchy, those songs, right?”
“Weese wondering just who you are,” the first cat asked. “Talkin’ bats don’t happen along Assjacket every day.”
“I—I’m Sarah,” I told him. “Sarah Dearly. Or…well, de Bennicoeur, really. I mean, I haven’t officially filed the paperwork to change my driver’s license and passport, etcetera, and I’ve been wondering if I should even take my husband’s last name. It’s really hard to spell and pronounce, for one thing. And, I mean, should I keep my maiden name as a sign of independence? That I’m not defined by my marriage or so willing to give up my birth name? I don’t know. It’s an interesting subject, really. And Dearly isn’t that common of a name, so maybe I should continue to hold the torch.”
I tended to babble when faced with cute but predatory creatures that were ten times my size.
“Sure. Whaddeva you say. Nice ta meet’cha,” the calico said. “I’m Jango Fett. Dis here,” he nodded at the white cat, “is Boba Fett. And dat,” a nod at the gray and white feline, “is Fat Bastard.”
“Super,” I managed, eyeing their curious upside-down faces. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”
“Whatcha doin’ in dat tree, Sarah?” asked Fat Bastard.
“Oh, you know,” I began. “Just…hanging around?”
They stared at me for a long moment before they started to cackle with laugher.
“Oh, dat’s funny. Hangin’ around! Dat’s real funny!” Boba Fett slapped his front paw against the ground. “We gotta comedienne over here.”
“You ain’t from around here, are ya?” Jango Fett said after he caught his breath.
“No, just visiting. Listen, I’m—I’m not really a bat.”
“Coulda fooled me!” Fat Bastard laughed again.
Glad someone could find some humor in my current life or death situation.
“What are ya, den? A familiar? A Shifter?” Jango asked.
I grimaced. “Neither. I’m human, actually. Well, a vampire, actually. My husband met with the Baba Yaga earlier today. He’s probably finished by now, and—I need to find him. Like, desperately.”
Jango nodded. “Youse a vamp, huh? I guess dat makes sense. Vamp bat wit little vamp fangs.”
“A warlock turned me into this so I wouldn’t be able to stop his evil plans,” I explained. “He wants to take over my husband’s body.”
“Hey, dat’s like dat movie!” Boba exclaimed. “Dat movie with dem aliens takin’ over da bodies. Amiright?”
“No,” I said. “Not Invasion of the Body Snatchers. This is a warlock who wants to steal the body of a master vampire he apparently hates.”
“Da Baba Yaga is meetin’ wit a master vamp?” Fat Bastard said.
“She is,” I said.
“Huh. Whaddya know?”
I cleared my little throat. “Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you put any plans of barbecuing me on hold. I need to find Thierry, and there’s not much time left. It might already be too late.” The thought was too much to bear, so I’d decided to continue clinging to my optimism much like I clung to this branch.
“Why aren’t you lookin’ for him?” Fat Bastard asked me.
“Well, I’m currently dealing with this bat body,” I explained.
“You gots wings. Why doncha fly?”
I extended the wings and flapped a couple of times. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get the manual.”
“Manual, shmanual. You gotta believe in yoself. If youse gots wings, youse can fly.”
“Turkeys have wings,” I pointed out. “And they can’t fly.”
