PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE.
I've had this idea in my head for a very, very long time and no one else seem to come forward with it. Huh. So I decided to do it myself. This is a series of one-shots and small chapters surrounding my idea that will not be said just yet, though it is hinted right here in the first chapter.
Please note this: I made its so that the events in 'Garfield and Friends' happened before 'The Garfield Show' so they are all merged. I picture Garfield with his old voice here, and Nermal...in the 'Garfield Show' he looks and sounds alot older than he does in 'Garfield and Friends' so in this story the CGI Show is set a few years after the cartoon series.
Also, I posted a link to a video I edited on You-tube where the idea was first brought to life. Note, the video is a little different in story from the fic. The link is in my profile. Check it out after reading this chapter.
Not just a 'What if Mood'
The orange tabby cat groaned lethargically to himself, half-lidded eyes scanning his surroundings. After a day dealing with a certain little kitten who was too cute for his own good, the elder cat was feeling an impeding headache on the horizon. It didn't help that his mind, ironically being more awake than John when he was worried about those dumb comics of his, was more alert than his plumb, furry body was.
Garfield was, in perspective, in an odd mood that morning. His face set in its usual, comfortable frown and deadpan expression; his pudgy form nestled in his blanket as he sat in his bed, he knew that these were one of his moods that was bordering 'what if'
He'd had a similar thought a while ago, when he'd been sitting on a table in the kitchen (per usual, my friend) thinking to himself: I'm in a what-if mood today. What if he'd married Arlene. They'd have a fancy wedding. Have some kittens...
Then they'd climb all over him...
"Scratch that. I'd make a lousy father..." Especially considering Nermal, he annoying, too-cute-for-his-own-good annoyance that he was. Garfield still had a sore heat after dealing with that kitten. But that was besides the point.
But it wasn't what If I did something sort of mood. It was a 'what if I hadn't' kinda mood...
Reluctantly the cat stretched out, flexed his claws and dragged himself out of bed. Maybe some food would clear it up. Nermal wasn't even here anymore, so it wasn't like he needed to dwell on this particular subject...
Drat. Now he'd done it. Started the thought chain, and thus starting it until it ended. Garfield, now standing upright and moving through the living-room, face-palmed and let off a large sigh. Way to go, Garfield...
Guess there was nothing for it.
Usually when he had this familiar, routine ponder it would phase itself into a story. Garfield never knew why exactly. Maybe he was trying to explain himself. Or practicing doing so when the time came.
"I need to stop saying 'if' in this scenario. It isn't gonna happen." Garfield said in his usual deadpan, drawling voice, waving a finger to no one in particular as he strode lethargically towards the kitchen. He grumbled incoherently to himself as he moved over to the fridge.
Odie, who had been chasing his tail prior to the cat's arrival, turned and panted excitedly upon seeing the orange tabby enter the room. He was just about to pounce on said cat when he noticed something...odd.
Garfield was leaning against the fridge, his back pressed against the cool door with his arms folded and one leg tucked over the other. A deeper frown was formed on his usually bored-lloking face, lidded eyes burning a hole through the ground at which he was glaring. The dog grumbled questioning, tilting his head.
Now Odie was a dog with intelligence very below average, so what was wrong with this picture did not strike him immediately. It took a while of squinting and very hard musing for it to finally click.
Garfield was standing by the fridge and he wasn't getting any food out from it.
"Barargh?" Odie stated loudly, head cocked to the side in bemusement. Garfield gave a sigh that was more like a groan, though paid no more heed to the confused canine currently watching.
Odie whined hopelessly to himself, being the compassionate doormat Garfield knew him for being, and the canine began to wonder if the little kitten whom Garfield despised had been the cause of his foul, no-food-can-solve-this mood. He grumbled worriedly, trying to get his attention though his spirits lifted a little. Yes, Nermal was probably the cause of this. Maybe he'd interrupted Garfield's nap (something the kitten always loved doing) and had left the older tabby in a rotten state of mind.
Garfield, tired of Odie's insipid and irritating whining, lifted his head and shrugged at the dog. "I just lost my appetite, as incredible as it sounds. Now go away and let me ponder."
Odie paid no attention to that order. Garfield, remarkably, did not seem to care. He left the dog to try and figure out what was going on while his thoughts began moving again.
Guess he'd better take it from the top.
Garfield guessed it started years ago, way before Nermal was born. Heck, before he'd met Odie (what a peaceful and annoying-free time that had been) and way before he'd met Arlene. Garfield had been much younger then and (something he would usually deny) a little more active than he was now. Maybe it was because he liked pouncing up on things to get food when John was a little more skilled in discipline. Anyway.
Garfield had always been teased for being a rather 'plain' looking cat; That is, whenever John went to visit his snobbish cousin who coincidentally ran a beauty pet show. Garfield hated being dragged along, but for some reason he guessed John would feel more comfortable with a pet like all the other people there.
Ironic that the posh, snobbish people who entered their posh, snobbish pets were the kind that had real fur coats...and leather handbags...
There he went again, getting off of subject. Anyway, it all started one time he'd been dragged to that place to watch with John from the sidelines (of course he hadn't been entered) as the pampered pets waltzed by, taking extra time to snigger at the plump tabby as they went. Pfft. What a pampered bunch of losers...
One of them, he would always remember, had given him an exceptionally and almost (note that almost people) impressive sneer as they went by.
It had been a tabby cat like himself, but their resemblance stopped there. Utterly. This cat was taller than him, a little, and was very thin and slender with a curling, thick tail that looked like a feathered duster. He'd snickered at that thought. The show cat's fur was grey and sported black, simple stripes and wasn't the brightest colour he'd ever seen. And another difference was that the cat was a 'she' and was, despite the arrogant sneer, very beautiful.
Even Garfield had to stare at that, and found himself doing so for a short moment before sneering right back. Her black nose twitched, another noticeable feature. Since when was black buttons for noses a fashion, any-how?
After the show, which the grey tabby had won like someone who'd used glue in an egg and spoon race it was that easy for her, John had gone backstage to congratulate his self-important cousin with enthusiasm. Turned out it was a friend of hers who owned the arrogant show cat who'd given him the sneer.
Speak of the devil in grey.
Standing nearby with a paw placed on her hips and studying him with a less than impressed looked had been none other than the grey tabby in question. Garfield sighed to himself, his deadpan expression never wavering. Here it comes...
"Your not much to look at, are you?"
Garfield shrugged, having heard an insult like that before but non the less irritated. Allowing a sarcastic note into his lethargic tone, he replied in a drawl.
"Hello to you too."
She scowled at him, though a smirk appeared just after. She sauntered over like she owned the place, something he noted with growling dislike. What a-
"So...you're the boss's, cousin's cat?" She inquired whilst examining her nails. Garfield gave a small 'humph' sort of sound, folding his arms.
"Figure that out by yourself? Swell."
She glared at him again. Garfield had snickered to himself smugly at that reaction.
"I'll have you know I'm a prize winner of this establishment." She had stated indignantly. Garfield rolled his greenish eyes darkly.
"Yeah, yeah. And pasta is the prize winner of the Italian restaurant establishment. Guess which interest me more."
She growled at him, fists clenched. Garfield smirked in reply.
The stood staring at each other for a moment. Then, she dropped her furious stature and looked to the side as if the barb hadn't had any effect whatsoever.
"Your pretty sharp witted for a tubby guy." She allowed a sly grin to spread, "I thought tubby guys were supposed to be jolly."
Garfield scowled at that. "Jolly's for people like John."
They both glanced at said moron nearby, who had just tripped and slammed( in a very jolly manner) into the celebration buffet that had been awarded to the Grey Cat's owner. Garfield rose a brow to himself.
"See what I mean, Hotcakes?"
The grey cat, who had been sniggering quietly at the poor human's expense, jerked her head towards him with a scowl. "Excuse me?"
Garfield glanced at her with a bored expression.
She rolled her eyes and decided to take her leave, turning around and storming away much to the orange cat's amusement.
Then, she stopped and his smile faded. Great, what now?
"I'm Norma, by the way."
Garfield shrugged to himself in indifference. Norma, huh? Sounded too normal for his liking...
Suddenly to noticed that she had strode back to him in annoyance, paws on her hips. She scowled at him, black nose twitching. Garfield rose a brow.
"Aren't you going to tell me your name, then?"
"Garfield." He replied after a while. He'd honestly been pondering on whether or not to say 'none of your business...'
To his surprise, she grinned and prodded him on the forehead. "That's very...original. I like guys who are more original. See ya, Tubby.."
She sauntered off, but not without batting her eyelashes mockingly. Garfield blinked to himself. Well that had been a weird turn of events...
"Later, Hotcakes. Guess your name's not too boring either."
He'd probably never see her again, he'd thought back then. How wrong he was to think that instead of thinking that he should never come back to the place rather than wondering whether John got to keep more of the buffet he'd just destroyed...
A happy, high and jubilant young voice called from just outside the kitchen. Garfield, his thoughts interrupted, found himself groaned darkly. Aw, no...
The grey kitten hurried over to him from the living room on all fours, smiling brightly upon spotting him. Skidding to a halt in front of him, Nermal the kitten stood on his hind legs and waved his arms excitedly.
"Garfield, Garfield!" He babbled as be bounced constantly on the stop, looking as if he was attempting to mimick a chicken. Garfield sighed, frowned creasing more as he looked down at the kitten with open (but ignored) dislike.
"What is it, Nermal?" He mumbled. Nermal, finally getting a response, went on to say:
"Garfield, Guess what?!" He stopped bouncing and clasped his hands before him, blinking up at him with his beaming, adorably cute face. Garfield could feel his patience levels bending dangerously, fists clenched.
"What is it, Nermal?" He asked. Where was that cardboard box he'd seen earlier...
"I went outside, an', an' there was a bird and it said I was CUTE!" The kitten hugged himself with joy, proceeded to resume his bouncing. "Isn't that neat?"
"Very neat." Garfield remarked bluntly as he reached for the unsuspecting kitten. With an abrupt whisk, Nermal found himself bundled under Garfield's arm and being carried off through the kitchen by the scolwing elder, Odie watching very slow a shake of the head.
Nermal blinked in alarm as he realized what had just happened. He began trying to pry Garfield's arm away as he asked in a surprised, bewildered voice:
"G-Garfield...are you going to mail me to Abu Dhabi again?!"
Anger filled his words at the end of the sentence despite the alarm adorning his grey furred face. Garfield turned his head and smirked at him meanly. That was the only response needed. Nermal resumed his squirming, but it did no good as the not at all phased Garfield strode out of the kitchen with him in toe. He couldn't help but muse to himself:
Kid learns fast...
Garfield ignored the thoughts stirring in the back of his mind as the grey kitten protested, something he ignored.
Don't look at me like that, Mind, He told his thoughts irritably, I need to do something to get back to what I was thinking about...its not like it hurts the little tyke anyway...
He needed to ponder a little more before dealing with this kitten more effectively. Stuffing him in a box for a while should suffice...
Please leave a review. No one reviews my stuff anymore...other chapters will be up soon if anyone actually reads this.