Chapter Two: The Hairball Resurrection

Lint the Great awoke wet, twisted, and matted into a sickly amalgam of hair and Friskies. In fact, something under his linty left armpit made him this that, perhaps, Rob Eggfondle's cat should probably eat more fiber.

Lint the Great lay for hours, drying on the bed pillow where Eggfondle's cat had deposited him. He lay for a nearly inexorable time, made worse by the courtroom dramas blaring from the kitchen. At long last, in the fading afternoon light and just before Judge Joe Brown called a tall Southern gentleman "a pawcks awn soh-sah-ty" whatever that was, Lint the Great, with great effort and great determination, caught a Zephyr of Freedom -- obviously delivered by the Excellent Gods of The Most Excellent World of Kenmore Dryers and Cling Free Sheets (a planet in the Tumble Dry Universe, just past Alpha Centauri), and prized himself from the hairball, wafting to emancipation upon the floor below.

"Now," thought Lint the Great, "Now to grow some Legs."

Coming Soon: Chapter Three: Riding the Woolite Wind to Victory

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