She poured milk into the bowl with the name 'Saffron' on it.

The cat came from under the closet, stretched, yawned.

“What the f...ck is this??” The cat stared at the milk, then at the girl. “You really think I'm gonna drink this?”

“It's milk”, the girl said. “It's good for you.”

“Bull...shit!” The cat sat down. “Cats don't want milk. Cats want cats' drinks, like...” It looked at the table, its eyes narrowing to thin vertical slits. “What's in that nice bottle over there?”

“You think I'm gonna feed you vodka?” The girl shook her head. “You're gonna die!”

“Come on! Cats don't die because of a stiff drink! We aren't little girls who can't take it - like a certain person I know...”

“Shut up!” She wriggled her toes trying to get into her heels.

“...who got sick after a few glasses...”

“SHUT UP!!”

“...all over the carpet...”

“I'm not gonna tell you again!” She got up and smoothed her dress which was so tight that it didn't need smoothing.

“...and over the bathroom floor...”

“Shelley's got a nervous stomach! She can't help it.” She put on her glasses. She didn't like to put them on because she thought that she looked stupid and pathetic and... ugly - but she wanted to check her lipstick, so...

“Nerves my ass!” The cat walked to the bowl and eyed the milk. “What she left on the carpet had more alcohol in it than Uncle Silas' 'Moonshine Special' and tasted like a certain Russian produce I know.”

“You... tasted it?” She dropped the lipstick.

“Like I said...”

“But... that's disgusting!!” She took off her glasses.

“Nothing wrong with a good portion of curiosity. You know we cats are...”

“You're a... pig!”

“Sorry, wrong number. Pigs are those big pink sausages on four legs which go 'Oink' 'Oink' and wanna be eaten.”

“Just... leave me alone. I've to hurry.”

The cat looked at the clock and watched it count off the seconds. It could do that for hours.

“You'll be late”, the cat said. “Again.”

“I'll make it! No problem.”

“No you won't”, the cat said. “No chance.”

“And why shouldn't I...”

“Because of what's in front of the door”, the cat said and vanished under the sofa.

***

The door bell was of the ding-dong type. The girl hated it but just couldn't get around to installing something more... well, cool and more appropriate for a single girl who had a good and exciting life and a career and... As it went 'Ding DONG' she wanted to rip it from the wall.

Instead she walked to the front door and opened it.

As usual Shelley hid behind heavy make up and the blonde of her blonde hair hit the eyes of the unprepared observer like a fist and made the girl blink.

“Kiss, kiss...” Shelley walked into the apartment. She looked left and right. “You haven't found a parcel in your mail?”

“What parcel?”

“A small one, tiny”, she held up two fingers to show how tiny.

The girl frowned. “What are you talking about??”

Shelley shrugged “Nothing... You ready? We better hurry...”

“Hang on a second. I'm almost...” The girl tried to reach the zipper but as usual couldn't get it and her dress, as usual, stayed open at the neck, just a little, as if inviting a kiss.

As usual the cat thought it was invisible because when it couldn't see the others the others couldn't see it as well. And, as usual, it couldn't keep its mouth shut and its voice came from under the sofa like from a grave: “We're doomed: Sick-All-Over-The-Carpet Shelley!”

“Shut your trap!” the girl hissed. “That's embarrassing!”

“She can't hear me. Only you can.”

“Bad enough. Shelley's my closest friend! Leave her alone!”

“She's not your closest friend. She's your ONLY friend...” the voice from under the sofa said.

“Heeeey!” Shelley bent down, as far as her dress allowed, trying to look under the sofa. “Pussy! Where's my sweetheart?? Come to me, pussy.”

The cat stayed where it was. It was no longer invisible and it took no risks. “She smells like a chemical waste dump”, it said.

The girl rolled her eyes. “That's Givenchy!”

“Exactly what I said: an attack with outlawed weapons!” The cat's eyes gleamed. “I'm tempted to retaliate!”

Shelley gave up to bend down. She didn't want her dress to burst open. “Pussieee... Pussy, pussy! Yeah! That's right, come to Shelley.” She was delighted because the cat appeared at the far end, slowly, carefully.

The girl narrowed her eyes. Suddenly she knew what this was about. “You're not gonna pee on her! You're not gonna...” She stopped. “Shelley... don't...”

Shelley didn't listen. “He just loves me.” She decided against bending down again and crouched instead, balancing on her heels. “You're my only guy, right? Can't live without your Shelley, right?”

The cat slowly moved along the wall, its eyes on Shelley. “Flexible response”, it said and walked towards Shelley. “Hit back where it hurts most.” It jumped on Shelley's lap. “You think I'm finished? Hah!”

The girl's blood froze. “You're NOT... YOU HEAR ME??? Oh my gawd!!”

***

“I'm so sorry. really...” The girl was on her knees on the bathroom floor. She tried to clean Shelley's dress in the bathtub, furious because she had to wear her glasses. Shelley, on the toilet seat, was busy checking her mail on the smartphone, her legs crossed, her G-string the only piece of clothing she wore.

“Awwww...”, Shelley looked up for a second to admire herself in the mirror and adjusted a not-so-perfect strand of hair. “He just loves it so much when I tickle his tummy. It's the excitement, no harm done...”

The cat peeped through the mesh of the cat carrier. “Hee, hee, hee – that supposed to be her underpants? I can see her... you know what! Hee, hee, hee...”

The girl got up, walked to the box and turned it to the wall. “You can rot in there!” she hissed.

“Hee, hee, hee...” The cat rolled on her back. “That was worth it!”

Shelley held up her smartphone. “Look what I found!”

“A dating site?”

Shelley's eyes widened. “Woah! Look at that! Guys!! And here are more! And here! And …

“That's the guy/guy section.” The girl pointed at the display.

“That's what I said...” Shelley scrolled like mad. “Guys, guys, guys, and guys...

“No...” The girl shook her head. “Just... guy/guy – like in 'guy wants guy'”

“Oh my gawd!” Shelley put the phone away as if it was hot. “Oh my... You mean...?”

“Right.” The girl picked up the phone. “And here's... the girl/girl section.”

Shelley was hypnotized. “Look at that! They're so...”

“So...? What?”

Shelley didn't move. “So... normal.”

The Girl laughed. “What did you expect?”

Shelley grabbed the phone. “Let me... Where the hell's the 'straight girl wants to hit off' section? Ooookaaay, let's see. Heere we are.”

The Girl went back to the bathtub and went on working on Shelley's dress. “I thought you're going for Steven...”

Shelley shrugged. “He's off to wherever, with this brunette chick. You know he's so... shallow. Only interested in the outside and...”

“You're jealous because he didn't take you...”

“Noooo...” Shelley shook her head. “Those boring trips, nothing but five star hotels, and pools, and restaurants, and clubs, and...” She shrugged. “Anyway – it's over. He's history.”

***

The ding-dong doorbell apparently wanted to push its luck. It went off, again, and again.

The girl opened the door, Shelley's dress dangling from her fist as if she wanted to swat whoever was pushing the button.

“What???”

The guy from next door made a step back. His glasses were bigger than the girl's, he needed a haircut and the ensemble of T-shirt and jeans he wore was so uncool that even the ding-dong doorbell appeared hip in comparison.

The guy cleared his throat. “Your dress is... kinda wet, Sandra.”

The girl folded her arms. “What do you want, McIntyre? I'm in a hurry.”

McIntyre held up a parcel. It was torn, open. In the other hand he held what had been in it: a tanga string, so tiny that the girl had to look twice.

“Sorry...” The guys voice failed. “I mean it was damaged and...” He cleared his throat again.

The girl narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about??”

“You weren't at home so... the UPS guy left it with me and...”

The girl's cheeks began to burn. “What the fuck... I never...”

McIntyre swallowed hard. “It's kinda... cute. It's really hot, I mean... I wouldn't have thought that you wear that kinda... underwear.”

“Keep your voice down!” the girl stepped forward and checked the corridor. They were alone. She blushed even deeper. “I didn't buy that piece of... you hear me?? It's a mistake!!”

McIntyre blushed, too. “Hey! And what am I supposed to do with this... panty.” He looked left and right.

“If it's so hot: why don't YOU wear it??” the girl hissed. She saw McIntyre go pale and stare at something that was behind her. She turned.

Shelley, in G-string and heels, reached out and snatched the tiny thing from McIntyre's fingers. “It's not underwear – it's a bathing suit! And it cost me a fortune!”

The girl was stunned. “You mean YOU bought this...er...?

“...bathing suit.”

“...this thing for the trip with Steven??? You really wanted to wear this in... public, at the pool? I'd be ashamed to just order it!!”

“That's why I used your name and address.”

“What??” The girl tried to get her mind around what she had just heard. “You mean...” She grabbed the parcel and looked at the sticker. “YOU DID!!”

McIntyre still stared at Shelley and something formed in his mind which he had to tell her.

“Michelle... you're... naked...”

Shelley grabbed the doorknob and shut the door into McIntyres face. Then she walked back to the living room. “You done with my dress? I think we'll be terribly late. So you better hurry.”

The girl followed her. “How could you...???” She handed the dress to Shelley. “Now he thinks that's my type of underwear!! That slutty piece of string? And tells all his nerdy friends that I...”

Shelley wriggled into her dress. “Who cares? Let's get going!”

The girl went back to the front door and opened it. “I'm sorry, McIntyre. Thanks for taking care of my mail.”

McIntyre held his nose where the door had hit him. “U're welcomb.”

The girl came closer. “And now listen carefully: if you tell anybody that I wear... you know... I'm gonna let myself into your apartment when you're asleep and snip off your balls.”

“Okay”, McIntyre muttered.

“Okay what?” The girl was now so close that McIntyre's glasses began to fog. “Okay that I'm gonna snip off...?”

McIntyre moved backwards, away from her. “No, no...”

The girl smiled. “Do me a favor, McIntyre. Get a haircut.”

“Uh, oh... okay, Sandra.”

She raised two fingers as if they were a pair of scissors: snip, snip.

“Er... okay, Sandra.” McIntyre walked to his door, backwards.

***

Shelley was in front of the big bedroom mirror. She held the string across her hips, posing.

The girl rolled her eyes. She walked back to bathroom and opened the cat carrier. “I can't believe it!! I just can't...” she muttered.

The cat came out and rubbed against her legs. “Come on”, it whispered. “Let's kill her! The world will be a better place!”

“What??”

“You only need to put a plastic sheet in the bathing tub so the acid wont eat through it and through the floor – and bingo: she's gone!”

“Acid??? Gone??? What the hell...” The girl stared at the cat. “You watched TV! When I was at work you watched this stupid... I told you NOT to...”

“Hey!” the cat's tail twitched with excitement. “ It's really instructive. You learn a lot of things - like how to dispose of a body and so on...”

The girl sat down on the edge of the bathing tub. “This is...” She didn't find a word for what she was doing here. She could as well go on talking. “And how do you want to... whack her? You also thought of that?”

“Sure. Just feed her your Penne Arrabiata – that'll do it.”

“My Penne?? My Penne - it's perfectly alright!”

“I nearly died when I ate it...”

“...because you you ate all I cooked! And that was meant for three!!”

Shelley looked into the bathroom. “You coming?”