Day 322: Peemeekadoo Fun with Lasers

Beedoopel snoozed inside the wall between the family’s den and kitchen, a large gap in the insulation giving him a cozy retreat.

“Beedoopel, Beedoopel, wakey-wakey.”

Beedoopel’s brother, Stingpeesel, landed on him. Beedoopel opened his eyes and dazzling red light in his left shocked him out of his slumber. He waved his hands, kicked his feet, and turned his head away from it.

“Stopit, stopit, hurts, hurts,” he squealed.

The red light went away. Beedoopel looked back at his brother, barely able to see through the bright spot that lingered. His brother’s mouth made an ‘o’ as he sat on the outlet’s electrical box and peered in. He held a tube in his hands. Stingpeesel was small for a peemeekadoo, and Beedoopel always told him he looked like a tiny Gollum, which was almost true, but Stingpeesel was longer and skinnier of body. The comparison delighted Stingpeesel, so Beedoopel stuck with it.

“I control hissy cat. Come and see. Come and see.” Stingpeesel grinned.

“Where’s the family?”

“Gone. Gone. Movie night.”

Beedoopel crept out of his insulation pocket. “Show me.”

They climbed down the wall to the hole leading into the den and slipped through. Stingpeesel crept across the floor, pointing his tube ahead. They crossed the hall and peered into the kitchen. The cat sprawled out on the bench seat under the table.

“Better to go up,” whispered Stingpeesel.

They climbed along the back of the refrigerator to get to the countertop by the sink, several dirty dishes and cups strewn about. Stingpeesel stepped to the edge and clicked the back of the tube. A red dot appeared on the floor.

“Look, look,” said Stingpeesel. He moved the tube in circles and the dot moved the same way.

“Ooooh.” Beedoopel dropped to hands and knees and peered over.

“Wake hissy cat. Wake hissy cat.”

“Nooo. Bad plan. Bad plan.”

“T’sokay, t’sokay. I have it.”

Beedoopel scowled, but swatted the base of a plastic cup, knocking it onto the floor. The bouncing and clunking woke the cat, who looked sanguinely at the cup rolling in an arc across the floor.

Stingpeesel pointed the tube toward the cup, the dot following then stopping by it. The cat stood on all fours and leaped off the bench toward the dot. Before it reached it, Stingpeesel moved the dot around the room, the cat chasing it every which way, running, sliding, and pouncing.

“Me, me, me!” said Beedoopel. He took the tube and sent the dot along the base of the cupboards and under the table, then out and into the dining room. The cat chased it relentlessly.

“Good plan, yes?”

“Good plan.”

They took turns playing with the cat, sending him to every nook and cranny within sight.

“Hungry,” said Stingpeesel. “Keep hissy away.”

He showed Beedoopel by zipping the dot around the dining room and staying out of the kitchen. Beedoopel kept the dot moving while Stingpeesel slid down the refrigerator door’s handle and pulled it open, bracing his foot on the edge.

“Pickles, pickles,” said Beedoopel.


The dot appeared on the refrigerator door as it swung out in the way.

“Watchit,” said Beedoopel. He ran across the front of the sink. The cat padded in and looked straight at him. Beedoopel squawked and repointed the tube to place the dot directly in front of the cat. It pounced and Beedoopel ran him around, back out into the dining room.

Stingpeesel hopped down from the shelf to the floor carrying three pickles, a slice of bologna, and a Brussel sprout. He closed the door and the dot disappeared.

Beedoopel shook the tube, but no dot came from it.

“Stingpee, Stingpee. No dot. No dot!”

Stingpeesel looked up, and Beedoopel demonstrated.

“Click the back. Click the back.”

Beedoopel pounded his hand on the clicker, but nothing happened. The cat wandered back in the room, and crouched low when it saw Stingpeesel.

“Run, Stingpee, run!”

Stingpee ran toward the hall, still holding the food and the cat ran after him. Beedoopel knocked another cup off the counter toward the cat, which startled it before it turned the corner, giving Stingpee a few more seconds. He knocked another one even farther and the cat hissed.

“Hurry, hurry! Drop the food and hurry!”

Stingpeesel sped out of sight into the hall. Beedoopel jumped on top of the refrigerator, and the cat followed him with his eyes. Beedoopel peered around the corner, and a pickle lay on the floor by the den door. Stingpeesel was gone. Should be safe.

The cat came to the base of the fridge and looked up at him.

“Bad hissy cat. Bad.”

The cat walked to the other side of the refrigerator and sprang onto the counter, knocking over some plastic cups.

Beedoopel shrieked and dropped down the back of the fridge where it was too narrow for the cat to get in. The cat jumped to the top of the fridge and peeked over the back, looking down on Beedoopel where he clung to wiry grid of some sort. The cat extended its paw down, but he was out of reach.

They stayed there staring at each other for an hour before the family came home. The cat left its perch and the girl let him outside. Once they were all out of the kitchen, Beedoopel climbed down and raced to the den, found the hole behind the shelf and crawled into his wall space. He found Stingpeesel in the insulation hollow, half way through the bologna slice.

“Bad plan,” said Beedoopel. He flopped himself down and closed his eyes for a nap.

He awoke to the sound of Stingpeesel clambering back up the wall. His head popped up over the opening.

“Whattaya doing? Whattaya doing?” asked Beedoopel.

Stingpeesel grinned big. He flipped two cylinders into the hollow, a nub on one end and flat on the other.



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