Mr. Blik stood valiantly above his dark brown, bear skin suitcase, stuffing it with piles of paperwork and documents of all sizes. He took a short glance at his electric clock. It read: 6:45, September 11th, 2001. It would take he and his brothers Gordon and Waffle at least two to four hours to reach their destination in New York. By then, they would already be extremely late. The cats had a meeting on the top floor of the World Trade Center north tower regarding rising tax prices.
"Gordon, Waffle! Are you ready yet?" Blik shouted over his shoulder. Waiting for an answer, he stuffed more paperwork junk into his suitcase. "Almost, Blik! Patience, brother!" Gordon responded. He scuttled into Blik's room, bearing a fanny pack and a gray backpack on his shoulders. "I can't wait to see New York!"
"This isn't gonna be a vacation! We have more important matters to care for than touring some modern day trash can!" Mr. Blik latched his case shut and carelessly tossed it to his awaiting butler, Hovis. Nearly having it smack him in the face, he stumbled down the hallway toward the car garage. Blik and Gordon listened as tumbling footsteps came their way. "Waffle! Careful where you-," Gordon never finished his sentence as his third brother, Waffle, pounded over Gordon and out Blik's window. He landed gracefully in the cat's truck, Gear.
Hurrying down to meet him, the two other cats ran as fast as they could, sliding down the railing of their curling staircase. "Alright, boys. Prepare for a bumpy ride. We've got a meeting to catch!" Mr. Blik put the petal to the floorboards, zooming along the interstate to New York at what seemed a thousand miles an hour. Gordon chuckled as he watched the other cars fall behind, slow as slugs. Then, looking upward, he noticed an airliner in the sky making a dangerously sharp turn. "Hey, Waffle," he whispered, "Do planes usually make turns like that?"
"Not that I've seen," answered Waffle. Gordon decided to keep his eyes on the plane. It seemed a little too odd. A feeling of despair filled his stomach. Something was not right.About an hour had passed since the brothers had left their house. Gear was running a little low on gasoline, and the meeting was going to start in fifteen minutes. "I KNEW we should've left at 5:00, but no, Gordo kept saying 'Not so early, not so early!'" Gordon flashed a sharp scowl at Blik. He hated early mornings. He also hated the fact that he had lost track of the plane he saw when they had driven through an underpass. He sighed, then smiled as Manhattan Island came into view. They were going to make it after all.
"Yes! We made it!" shouted Blik. "Splee!" shouted Waffle. The Twin Towers were in plain sight. The brothers stared in awe. It was more magnificent than they had imagined. Gordon suddenly alerted his attention to the aircraft flying towards them. It was the same one that he had seen. But it was low… too low.
"Aye, lads?" Gordon watched it carefully. "That plane is way too low." He shook Blik on the shoulder. Then he noticed that he was watching it, too. They all were. Waffle gulped.
The aircraft hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center.