Frank; the time travelling cat

He's a cat. He time travels. Questions?

Frank was curled up on the sofa. He'd been there for a good three hours. By his reckoning, Wendy and Philip were not due home for at least another half hour; so he had no intention of moving. 

Precisely thirty one minutes and right seconds later he was woken up by the sound of young Adam running down the entrance hall. Time to move. 

He trotted upstairs and as luck would have it, the airing cupboard was open. Frank decided to settle on the big purple towel on one of the lower shelves. One: it was comfortable. Two: it would annoy Philip beyond measure. Win win, he thought. 

It was dinner time when Frank rose from his slumber. He could smell the human food being prepared in the kitchen. It smelt like fish. 

Frank sat in the doorway. Wendy was just plating up as he caught her eye. 

"It's cod," she said. 

"And?" Frank replied. 

Wendy rolled her eyes. She started to lay the table. 

"I think I'll eat out tonight," he said. 

"Fine." She replied. 

All of a sudden, a rather fruity selection of expletives sailed down the stairs from the airing cupboard. 

"Why Frank? Why?" Shouted Philip from upstairs. 

Frank was too busy laughing to answer. He was now lead on his side with a grin on his face wider than the Thames. 

Wendy looked at him, shaking her head, but at the same time trying hard to hold back laughter. "That's not funny Frank. "

"Yes it is. You know it is. Even Adam with his limited intellect knows it is. 

"Oi," snarled Wendy, throwing a tea towel at Jack. 

Jack turned and left the kitchen, laughing hard as he did. 

Atop the landing, Philip was rigorously shaking the purple towel that Jack had covered in hair. Jack sat at the bottom of the stairs and watched. Another choice word was aimed at him. 

It was then that Philip grabbed a hold of a towel that he was standing on. This subsequently sent him forward in the direction of the stairs. 

He quickly reached for the bannister to steady himself. It was no use. 

He did manage to stop himself falling forward down the stairs, but this only made him look like a hurdler going down a hill. 

He crumpled to a heap at the bottom of the stairs. 

Jack, by this point was again on his side, in fits of laughter. He covered his face with his right paw. His belly shook with convulsive laughter. 

"I've had a great idea," Jack announced. 

With that, fighting laughter, he made his way to the cat flap. 

The End

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