The Titanic Trio
In the black hole just outside Harmony Grove lives the world's oldest caped crusader, Cat Lady. She is closing in on one hundred. But that does not mean she has lost any of her super powers. As a matter of fact she is learning new ways to defend those in need.
This summer she even learned how to fly.
"Who are you?"
"She doesn't know how to fly. She just climbs into my laundry basket and expects me to carry her up the stairs so that she can make a grand entrance into the living room."
While some super heroes hang up their boots and capes following a long and successful career, this gal is no quitter. She keeps on dishing it out. It never occurs to Cat Lady that now in her senior years would be the time to rest. No. For her there is still work to be done.
"What in the hell are you talking about?"
"Again, who are you?"
"I am Millie Noe. Cat Lady's mother."
"Why are you on the set?"
"I flew her here."
"Well perhaps since you know everything you would like to tell this story."
That is how it came about that Millie Noe took over the show. We here at the studio are not responsible for any false statements she may or may not make.
There are two other super heroes living in the black hole with me and my sweet Sven.
There is Bark Man, the wonder dog and of course Tuxedo Boy, the teenage punk of a cat.
One day along came Grandma. I mean Cat Lady.
It is true that she was homeless at the time and without a 401 K plan, social security or Medicare benefits. Apparently she never paid her dues back when the sun was shining and she was making all that hay.
Here she is in my car, sitting in a crate, screaming bloody murder when she realized that we did not take the correct exit. And we were not heading to that fancy home with the white pillars, for retired super heroes only, but instead we were driving down a long and bumpy driveway that crosses over a pond that fortunately was not all scummy at the time, as it was only April.
We stopped in front of a cedar sided house with two masked faces, pressed against the window.
Finally she was quiet.
"This is it," said my sweet Sven. "Welcome to paradise."
That is when we realized that this old lady was either very rude or extremely deaf.
Turns out, she is a little bit of both.
Bark Man was insane as usual, running in circles with his head thrown back, belting out, "WARNING! WARNING!"
Tuxedo Boy was cool, calm and collected, just sharpening his claws on the door trim as we walked through.
Introductions went horribly.
I took Cat Lady downstairs to her temporary home until we could work things out between everybody.
That was a year and a half ago.
"Excuse me, Millie."
"This is The Titanic Trio. It is a show about super heroes."
"I am getting there."
Once Cat Lady was all settled in. After she had the place remodeled and ordered herself a heated bed and got her staff on track with her preferred schedule, things seemed to be shaping up. My ass as well, being her entire staff, driver and pilot.
I have to say, this little old thing with all her pearls and shoes and purses is amazing.
Imagine being one hundred years old and making it through a day.
Then try imagining being one hundred years old and completely deaf and making it through a day.
Now try to imagine being one hundred years old and completely deaf with someone who would like nothing more than you dead. And that someone lives on the other side of a hollow core basement door. And your life is dependent on one little stinking sign that hangs in the kitchen window when you are up for your daily visits. This sign is taped up and taken down by an older couple who don't even know what day it is half the time. And making it through a day.
If that sign is mistakenly taken down while Cat Lady is still upstairs. And then Tuxedo Boy is accidentally let in, like a week ago, for instance.
Shit could hit the fan.
And it did.
My sweet Sven and I had been asleep for about an hour when we were awakened by the shrillest of all shrill screams. This was followed by language that I do not believe Cat Lady learned in church. We sprang out of bed and ran up the stairs to our abandoned master bedroom, only to find her playing dead in the middle of a mess she made herself and Tuxedo Boy staring at her in shocked disgust.
He he was snatched away from the crime scene and received a lecture about bullying little old ladies, while I carried Cat Lady down to her fancy apartment and cleaned her and everything else, up.
That woman knew how to work her system,
She knows how to work the system.
And how to milk it.
"I want half and half," she snapped the next morning during her free ride up into the sunshine for another glorious day of being one hundred years old and completely deaf with a target on her forehead.
She glanced over at the kitchen window to make sure the sign was hanging there.
Then she looked back at me.
If looks could kill.
I would not be here telling this story.
"Grandma, how many times do I have to say I am sorry? I thought you were in your apartment."
For more stories in this crime fighting series, click above on Titanic Trio.