Chessur the Cheshire Cat, like all cats, enjoyed playing with his food. Before appeasing his ever present appetite there was nothing Chessur found more delightful than to toy with his soon-to be snack.
To many of the non-feline variety, both in Underland and Aboveland, this practice seemed cruel and unnecessary. How rude and uncivilized to torture a poor, helpless little being! Wasn't eating it enough?
To Chessur, and all cats a like they saw it as a thrilling little game. Completely innocent (though this didn't stop their eyes from shining with deviancy when they knew they had won).
If anyone were to ever ask Chessur he was certain he could explain the rules and workings of the sport fairly easy. After all he had been a expert at it since kittenhood.
First the game would commence with the spotting of a playmate. Chasing normally follows, some playmates put up a better run than others. Assuming he captured the creature (he always did) a few bats from his humongous paws would serve to amuse him momentarily and severely disorientated the unlucky creature.
Occasionally idle conversation would be struck as the cat held the creature securely by the tail, wing or another appendage. For whatever reason the creatures never seemed to make good conversation with him and this never failed to disappoint him so.
Lastly Chessur would bid the small being fairfarren and claim his well deserved prize for winning the game.
Normally this is how the game went but the odd feline was rather notorious for changing the rules as he saw fit.
Regardless of how the game was conducted the outcome was always the same. Chessur would end up with a full belly.
Chessur truly did love this game.
One creature Chessur desperately wanted to play with was Mallymkun, the tea loving dormouse. She was so enchanting with her white fur, Chessur was sure he'd never seen a mouse with white fur other than her! The only thing stopping him from engaging in 'friendly' play the tiny dormouse was the fact she was rarely apart from Tarrant or Thackery and was even more seldom seen without her trusted needle that she used like a sword.
Floating just above the oddly colored trees of Tulgey Wood Chessur couldn't believe his luck! Here Mallymkun was without Hatter or Hare and seemed to be lacking her tiny sword.
The cat smiled, as he always did, and began to drift downward.
He appeared suddenly on the worn trail, a haughty look in his eyes as he purposely blocked the little mouse's way.
"Hello Mally," he shorted her rather long and cumbersome name to a single, sweet purr that seemed to exude friendliness.
Being a smart little thing Mallymkun was not enchanted or disarmed. "What do you want cat?" venom laced her tiny voice as she addressed the offending species.
"So hostile," Chessure tssked before holding out a single paw. Mallymkun examined his gray paw hesitantly.
"Come now," he spoke, "let us end this silly little tiff and be friends!" he said in what some would mistake as sincerity.
She sniffed his extended paw and for a moment considered his words. Then of course she remember Tarrant's distrust of the creature known as Chessur. If her dear Tarrant disliked this feline then certainly she, a rodent, would have even more reason to do so.
Eyes narrowed as she reached for the needle on her belt. She would poke him right in his abnormally large eye! When tiny paws didn't find the sought for object her beady eyes shone with fear as she gawked up at the much larger cat who was once again grinning.
This time he didn't seem very friendly as he took care to show off all of his sharp, pointy teeth.
Clapping, "Oh seems you've forgotten something!" he teased. Bad form, he knew, but still he remembered vividly the last time Mally pricked him with that blasted thing.
He then placed his paws over his eyes.
"I find it much more fun to give the opponent the head start," he explained while trying to stop his tail quivering from excitement. It was was if he could already taste the dormouse. "I'll count to tarmaek," he added before he began to count in Underland's bizarre numeral system.
Since Chess's eyes were firmly closed and shielded by his gigantic gray paws adorned with electric blue stripes he didn't see Mallymkun's fear change into anger. He didn't see her stance change from fearful to defiant. He didn't see her change from being a normal little mouse cornered by a cat to the ever spunky Mallymkun starring down an adversary.
When he was nearly done counting his acute ears finally heard the sound of tiny paws scurrying away, however, when he heard them running back towards him he became a bit confused and frowned.
"Bad Kitty!" a squeaky voice yelled just before Chessur felt a might blow to the top of his noggin.
With startled eyes he spied the dormouse in front of him whirling a rather large stick.
Before he could say or do anything about the peculiar situation several more swift and surprisingly effective blows landed upon him, each followed by a scolding of "Bad kitty!" "Awful kitty!" and "Naughty kitty!"
One blow in particular landed on his sensitive nose and sent the cat yowling in pain.
Without a second thought Chess evaporated only to appear several feet above Mally safe from her furious whacks.
With vigor she continued to swing the stick that she ought not had the strength to carry around wildly, as if daring the cat to try something. Chessur merely held his poor, throbbing nose as he eyed the mouse with annoyance.
Clearing his throat, "You, Mallymkun are no fun to play with," he said with as much dignity and indifference as he could muster before completely vanishing from Tulgey Wood and leaving the smug little rodent behind with her wooden sword.
Like any cat, Underlandian or Abovelandian, Chessur liked to play with is food.
Like any cat, Underlandian or Abovelandian, Chessur didn't much care for when his food won.
Inspired by my darling kitties who are quite simply put, awful, awful hunters.