I'm sure you'll all be sad to hear that your favorite writer (that is, of course, me) is a bit under-the-weather this week. That's right, your poor Stu has caught a wee bug, but fret not dear reader; it is not the typhoid nor is it the consumption. 'Tis but a touch of the flu.
What have I been doing while sick, you ask? Oh, I've been working on my latest novel, A Cat For All Places. My freshest story follows a young feline as he prances about the great cities of the world, encountering adventure, peril, and, of course, love. How does our fair cat travel about our planet? Why with his master! The owner in this tale is a stage performer, a graceful male dancer named Sven. Sven encounters difficulties as well, for the well-read Swede's show is based on the fable of the Phoenix, which forces our cat's master to wear a suit of feathers. The common men mock him calling him foul names and throwing things at him, but our little kitten, whom I've named Francis, comes to his defense.
When I mentioned this story to the staff of Pork Pony, most of them ignored it, writing it off as useless pretense. Mike Wargo, however, actually listened as I explained it to him. I was stunned for he started to give me intelligent feedback. Then, out of the blue, the twit burst into laughter and called me a "big, flaming poof." Needless to say, this only extended my illness and hampered my Stuance lessons (which, I believe, had been helping this vile web site's staff). Bah, I care not as long as they give me cash and freedom.