To go with the red hot lolcatz trend, I would design a poster with a pic of the Reaper Cat at a bedside with the caption: "I can haz ur soul?"

brilliant, todd. just f****** brilliant!

http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b287/native_75/misc%20props/funny%20cats/Angelsee.jpg

Oscar does see Dead People! Another brilliant link. Thanks!

So Oscar could be photographed? Hmmm..

Hissy Headline: Flatliner Feline Licks The Purrfect Murder. Victims may die due from paralyzing (anaphylactic)shock induced from cat's saliva-to-skin contact OR inhalation of undetectable deadlyy dander. Maybe one of the last visions the dying have is of the cat licking his chops, arching his back which morphs into an actual arched grim reaper blade for a few seconds. The cat's face morphs into a beastly, prehistoric form. He could be linked to Egyptian origins(sphynx cat or foreign lilac oriental shorthair) and accompany an Egyptian dr. making rounds. The cat's never suspected because he appears to be such a harmless, kitten. The dr. purrscribes the cat for untraceable mercy killing/assisted patient suicide. The ultimate would probably be seeing the ca's cadaver being used (in his post 9 or million lives) on an operating table being examined for scientific research by vet students. Ironically, they discover the creature was never born with a heart and no sooner than the student announces it, he drops dead. The "Egyptian" dr. is who appears when summoned to help the unrevivable(sp?)student. Performs brief examination & pulls sheet over the student's body. The doc discreetly body bags the cat and nonchalantly puts it under his arm while the other students are panicked over their colleague's sudden death. The doc turns back to the table, partially pulls the sheet back to take one last look at the dead student's face. Says, "Pity" while almost petting the body bag under his other arm. Doc accidentally knocks a scalpel onto the floor. The camera pans close in and down as he picks it up. Briefly it morphs into a mini reaper blade. He rises to lay it on the table,but you only see his shoes,pants and "the flatliner feline" reappear in a new form slinking through his legs. It ends with doc shoes being followed by cat padding out of the room, around the corner. Darkness..sound of shoes and purring cat. Sound of door slam. Silence.All's black. *I've heard that dog saliva has healing properties. Maybe this cat's saliva works just the opposite. (*I start teaching again in two weeks...so I won't be a whacko blogger.) Or maybe a great priest could show up to save the day as well as some souls by...baptizing the cat who has to learn to swim in Holywater. Best to AMCMFB!

nice work, AX! very purrceptive. I may purrloin your work and repurrpose it in my own screenplay, The Grim Reaper In Purrgatory. OK, I'll stop now. Have a good weekend.

Thanks for catastrophic fun! Actually purrfur to think of the cat as a heavenly guardian angel offering comfort to the dying. But you got us going...wonder about a comment post by "Insipid Cat" or anyone else---

Oscar inspired me to jot down this bit of a storyline...Detective St. Ives trudged up the 6 wide steps to the front doors of the Providence Retirement Home. At the fourth step he could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and at the sixth St. Ives' cheeks were flush and his breath tore in and out in a harsh raspy wheeze. Pushing through the main entrance he entered the dimly lit tiled corridor lined with orange and green vinyl chairs. The detective plopped down into the closest chair and gripped his chest. His heartrate was slowing down and he felt in his pocket for the prescription bottle, unscrewing the top and placed two of the small white pills under his tongue. St. Ives closed his eyes and when he opened them he was startled at the small gray and white cat staring back at him. "He likes you." came a voice to his right, it was Detective Franklin. "Glad you're here, St. Ives, we've got him just down the hall. That is, if you think you can make it?" "Very funny," St. Ives grumbled and followed the other detective into the dining room of the nursing home. Everything appeared completely normal, except for the three uniformed officers standing at attention around a small balding man in hospital scrubs. The man was slumped over in a metal folding chair and the detective noticed the silver bracelet keeping him there. "That's him", Franklin motioned toward the man. "Jaspar Berkley, orderly..working here for 5 years, claims the cat, Oscar, is somekind of "angel of death", says Oscar would tell him who to" put out of their misery". "Sounds like a case of mercy killing." Yeah, he's a real whackjob, that one."Franklin ended his report and flipped his notebook shut. "What about the cat?" St. Ives asked. "Ask him yourself, he's been sitting at your feet since you got here."Franklin laughed. St. Ives looked down, and there at the toe of his wingtips sat the patchwork cat staring up at him with flat green eyes. The detective felt the skin on the back of his neck goosepimple and his chest tightened. Looking across the room he realized that Jaspar Berkley was also now looking at him, with those same flat green eyes.

David, when & where's your book signing? (Breath tore in & out one of my fav. lines.)Great dialogue!;)

thanks for the story, david. you definitely have writing talent, and, just as importantly, a fine dramatic arc. i'm glad you chose to write something for this post.

Glad you liked it, book signing? No, I don't get out of the vault that often!