The Internet Gods were not smiling upon her. Kitty frowned and clicked on seven more versions of Portishead's "Roads"; fully expecting them to be all insolent and refuse to download like good little pirated songs. Soulseek had become total shit lately, and Ares was so unreliable, which left...sigh...Kazaa. Kitty loathed Kazaa.

Stupid Kazaa.

Made no sense why Kurt wouldn't just give in and let her remove the Demon Windows from his laptop and install Linux. Ubuntu was friendly (free) and Gnome was a perfectly easy Desktop interface, and Nicotine came bundled with the whole thing. The file-sharing application, not the badness that made up just one of the many, many evils of smoking...though just as addictive.

Someone was just a little too addicted to the SIMS.

Unwrapping a Razzleberry Blue Blow Pop and tucking it into her cheek, she dragged her hand through her long, brown-streaked with-violet bangs--Seven shots of Goldschalgger plus one Deep Purple Streaking Kit plus idle hands truly were the Devil's Playground, but it looked okay and she'd done much MUCH stupider things while pickling her liver in the ol' aqua vitae-- and stared at the screen balefully, attempting to force the download using the power of her will.

To pass the time while her Mighty Will was at work dabbling in her favourite flavor of Copyright Violation, Kitty checked out the latest StrongBad Email. Rolling the lollipop around her mouth with her tongue to click it against her teeth, she happily snickered through the latest Strongbadian Goodness, "...take one-half shaved The Cheat..." she parroted, giggling and scrolling to find her favourite email, Trogdor, and-

BAMF!

A shadow fell across her ominously...foreboding...with accompanying hellfire.

Kitty turned--downloads and The Cheat forgotten--to face the bill waving Teutonic Wrath of Nightcrawler, Hollywood Video bill clutched in his fist, yellow eyes blazing with Righteous Fury and a big fat "Hello, Ass-Handers Delivery Service...delivery for you." expression of Doom on face.

Uuuuuuh-ooooooh.

"KITTY!" Kurt screamed and lunged.

Not even a Katzchen.

She was so dead.

Twenty minutes later, Kitty stood shamefaced and silent next to an image-induced Kurt in line at Hollywood Video for her Act of Video Rental Contrition.

So, she'd kinda forgotten that she'd used Kurt's Hollywood Video card for all those games. That she also kinda forgot to return.

Seven months ago. The ride to town had been educational, Kitty didn't know Kurt knew that many languages to shout profanity in, she counted at least twelve, or could turn that many colours of violet-faced rage. It was awe-inspiring, really. Perhaps not as awe inspiring as a four-hundred dollar bill at Hollywood Video, but when she'd try to explain, Kurt just started to sputter incoherently...and wheeze...and mutter something about a pig farm.

She never should have watched Snatch.

So Kitty opted to shut up and accept her fate. Her ear still ached from the Dragging to the Car Adventure. She rubbed it petulantly and cast a side-long glance at Kurt. "I'm sorry." She said for the thirty-fifth time, gah, it was becoming mantra. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and suppressed a melodramatic sigh. She'd been doing so well, even letting Kurt hang on to her credit cards so she wouldn't spend so much money. He was kind of her accountant, which was cool, except for that always holding her accountable thing and--

Distraction! Mike and Ike Buttered Popcorn flavoured candy. Oooh! Maybe if she was good then Kurt would let her buy-- She caught Kurt's expression. Candy was not in her cards, she could tell.

Aw, nuts.

Kitty took a breath and looked as contrite as possible, making sure Kurt could see the Pure Innocent Look of Absolute Remorse that graced her features. She steeled herself as the clerk held up the partially gnawed on with fanged-teeth card with a raised eyebrow.

"You." the clerk said.

"Yes." Kitty nodded, morosely. "Me."

"Four-hundred fifty-two dollars and twenty-two cents." the clerk's voice held a slight tone of awe.

"Forgive me--" Kitty peered at the guy's name tag, "--Mitch, for I have sinned."

Mitch blinked as Kitty continued…occasionally casting woeful glances back at Kurt during her Monologue of Sorrowful Confession. "Oh Mitch, I am heartily sorry for having offended Hollywood Video and I detest all my Video Rental sins, because I dread the loss of my membership privileges and the pains of my accountant drowning me in the toilet..."

"You have an accountant?" Mitch asked.

"Kinda. He's over there." Kitty said sorrowfully, pointing back at the stony faced guy lurking with Financial Tyranny in the background.

"...but most of all because they offend thee, oh dedicated Hollywood Video clerk," Kitty continued, "..who are good and deserving of my respect. I firmly resolved, with the help of my accountant's grace, to confess my sins of DVD renting irresponsibility and to do penance and to amend my life. I apologize unreservedly."

Mitch gaped for a moment.

"Uh, sure." He said finally, granting Absolution and a coupon for free microwave popcorn.

"Amen." Kitty mumbled as Mitch handed her back her debit card...which was quickly snatched by Kurt who appeared at Kitty's side. Forty minutes later, Kitty sat quietly on Kurt's couch, watching Emeril Lagasse kick it up a notch on the Food Network and NOT pouting. She was reflecting. Not pouting.

At all.

Stupid Kazaa.