It can't end if it never started in the first place.

Well at this point I had well and truely been slapped upside the brain-box by the cold and unpleasant hand that we like to call reality. There was no telling how long the sting would last but it was indeed and still is a bitter one. On all sides of the matter I had simply lost out, and there wasn't much to take from it even in some kind of life lesson learned. The few basic facts to be remembered from it were not in any way positive and if anything they were simply confirmation of the fact that Catman and I had never really belonged on this planet. Of course only the very tip of our plans had become known by our enemies but it was surely just a matter of time before the rest of the jigsaw got hoovered up too, and it was indeed not going to be the same fun times it had been.

The timing had been brutal, seeing as we'd only just even got over the last load of shit we'd had thrown our way. But no matter, that's life. For a while after the incident I'd left Catman to himself in the corner, I knew he'd been raped by those pigs and there were the polystyrene balls on the floor to prove it. It seemed obvious to me that he'd want some alone time to come to terms with it. When I thought that the time had finally come to check on him, and possibly even head off on a journey to lighten our dangerously low mood, I noticed a distinct lack of vibe from his corner. Admittedly things had been left atop him, some clothes and a cardboard box, which he wore like some kind of helmet, and a little bit of glass from the candle that had been on top of the TV (I accidentally smashed that and had forgotten about it). As I got closer to him and removed these items, I realised that the problem was a lot more serious than I first thought.

He was completely unresponsive to any kind of light or sound, not even a prod in the eye roused him. I lifted his arm but it fell limply back to his side as I released it. It saddened me greatly, but I knew of course what had happened here. It didn't look like there'd be any more Catman times, at least in this era. I sat down on my bed and decided to call one of my real friends, and then remembered that the flourescent devils had taken my phones. I sighed and looked at Catman's lifeless frame. What had become of this once great figure, this shining light that had guided the children through so many hardships? Well clearly the answers were useless now anyway, it was too late. Those bastards, I thought, and then said to myself, those bastards.

The saddest part for me though, was that he never even really died, he just couldn't be bothered anymore.

the Catman never dies - he just hibernates

i shall always lurve you.

now... can i have the rights to sell catman as a series of books that will stretch over a 3 year period, the first with a measely contract with a big publisher to get him out there.

ill then tear up  the contract demand renegotiations and refuse to cooperate without being brought a gallon of chocolate milk everyday for the next year as well as a personal person to fan a large palm leaf with, while on an arctic vacation.

when my demands are met ill sell the next book but will aim it as a childs morality book, diverting from the otherwise adult aimed origins.  it will rapture their minds and start catman comicons across the globe.

when the series is so saturarted that the world can take no more, ill release the completed unabriged series that i "accidently" left out of the originals.

ill then continue to anthologize his life into an unabridged series and start a church based on him, this should bring in a lot of profit, get a website devoted to him, and pretend as if it was my idea.

so, i can do that right?