reached up to the nightcap he always wore to bed and fidgeted with the material. "It was all Hambone's doin', sir! I was sleeping like a babe when the scurvy swabee whapped a paw across me mouth! Sat on me chest and stared me straight in the eyes, he did. Swear he hypnotized me! Next thing I knew, we was coming down here and ravaging the rations."
Tyber raised his brow and stared down at Hambone.
The pirate cat had the nerve to grin up at him. The fact that the cat was missing several teeth added to the charming picture.
"Blooey, I know Hambone and you do this every night."
"You do, Captain?"
"Aye, I do."
Blooey scratched his chin. "Takes some of the fun out of it, doesn't it, Hambone?"
The cat didn't answer. He was busily wiping the crumbs off of his face and licking clean the evidence. Like most cats, he was going to try to disavow any knowledge of the deed once all trace of it was gone. Strange how cats thought they could do this even when they were caught red… pawed.
Stranger still was the fact that it usually worked.
It was difficult to refute a kitty who looked smugly up at you as if to say, "Prove it." Tyber always marveled at the feline sense of selective relativity. For a cat, the past was just so much fantasy—especially if it involved some wrong doing.
Mark's head poked around Tyber. "A snacker!" There was a wealth of disgust in the observation.
"Sorry, pal." Tyber nodded at him over his shoulder. "The double reading combined with the refrigerator was a dead giveaway—you'll forgive me the pun. Better luck next time."
"Geesh." Mark stormed back into the library.
Zanita shook her finger at the two culprits, but her eyes were dancing with mirth.
When they got back to the library, Hubble did not even glance up from his book. "False alarm, by chance?"
"Blooey and Hambone out for a
midnight
snack."
"Hmf." Hubble went on with his reading, a treatise on the life cycle of the gnat.
Zanita thought it was particularly appropriate reading material for this man.
"He's not even polite enough to pretend he's interested in what we're doing," she sputtered to Tyber in an aside.
Tyber glanced over at the psi-cog. "Mmmm."
"It's as if a little cloud hangs over his head, waiting to rain on everyone he comes in contact with. What is it with him, anyway?"
"I don't know, baby. Maybe he's just one of those straight-by-the-book academic types." He shuddered theatrically.
"Really, Tyber. You're much too serious, you know that?" His only response was a sexy wink.
An entire shelf of cooking videos crashed to the floor.
Zanita jumped. "My god, what caused that?"
Tyber began walking over to the fallen videos to investigate, but Calendula yelled out a warning. "Watch out, Tyber! Behind you!" Tyber turned and veered just in time to see a kitchen spatula whiz by his head.
"Poltergeist activity! Mark, are you recording?"
"Yes! The readings are off the scale!"
"I don't believe this!" Zanita watched dumbfounded as several objects hurtled through the air. Tyber yanked her out of the path of a flying nutmeg grater.
"Did you notice—it's all kitchen equipment?" As if to verify her words, a whisk whipped by her nose.
"Yes, I did notice that." Tyber put his hand on top of her head, protectively holding it down as a shelf of books crashed to the floor. "Maybe this ghost of yours is a disgruntled chef who was unjustly stripped of his Michelin stars."
"That's not funny."
"My cookbooks!" Todd moaned.
He started to pick them up but thought better of it when Mark yelled out, "Forget it, Todd! Wait until it stops—you might get hurt!"
Through it all, Hubble sat in the corner cool as a cucumber, reading his paperback.
Zanita raised her head. "Why is he just sitting there?"
Tyber murmured, "Better question might be: why aren't any of the flying gadgets going near him?" He ducked on top of her to avoid a lemon zester.
"Because he doesn't believe in it?" Zanita mumbled facetiously against Tyber's shoulder. "I don't believe
Tyber raised his brow and stared down at Hambone.
The pirate cat had the nerve to grin up at him. The fact that the cat was missing several teeth added to the charming picture.
"Blooey, I know Hambone and you do this every night."
"You do, Captain?"
"Aye, I do."
Blooey scratched his chin. "Takes some of the fun out of it, doesn't it, Hambone?"
The cat didn't answer. He was busily wiping the crumbs off of his face and licking clean the evidence. Like most cats, he was going to try to disavow any knowledge of the deed once all trace of it was gone. Strange how cats thought they could do this even when they were caught red… pawed.
Stranger still was the fact that it usually worked.
It was difficult to refute a kitty who looked smugly up at you as if to say, "Prove it." Tyber always marveled at the feline sense of selective relativity. For a cat, the past was just so much fantasy—especially if it involved some wrong doing.
Mark's head poked around Tyber. "A snacker!" There was a wealth of disgust in the observation.
"Sorry, pal." Tyber nodded at him over his shoulder. "The double reading combined with the refrigerator was a dead giveaway—you'll forgive me the pun. Better luck next time."
"Geesh." Mark stormed back into the library.
Zanita shook her finger at the two culprits, but her eyes were dancing with mirth.
When they got back to the library, Hubble did not even glance up from his book. "False alarm, by chance?"
"Blooey and Hambone out for a
midnight
snack."
"Hmf." Hubble went on with his reading, a treatise on the life cycle of the gnat.
Zanita thought it was particularly appropriate reading material for this man.
"He's not even polite enough to pretend he's interested in what we're doing," she sputtered to Tyber in an aside.
Tyber glanced over at the psi-cog. "Mmmm."
"It's as if a little cloud hangs over his head, waiting to rain on everyone he comes in contact with. What is it with him, anyway?"
"I don't know, baby. Maybe he's just one of those straight-by-the-book academic types." He shuddered theatrically.
"Really, Tyber. You're much too serious, you know that?" His only response was a sexy wink.
An entire shelf of cooking videos crashed to the floor.
Zanita jumped. "My god, what caused that?"
Tyber began walking over to the fallen videos to investigate, but Calendula yelled out a warning. "Watch out, Tyber! Behind you!" Tyber turned and veered just in time to see a kitchen spatula whiz by his head.
"Poltergeist activity! Mark, are you recording?"
"Yes! The readings are off the scale!"
"I don't believe this!" Zanita watched dumbfounded as several objects hurtled through the air. Tyber yanked her out of the path of a flying nutmeg grater.
"Did you notice—it's all kitchen equipment?" As if to verify her words, a whisk whipped by her nose.
"Yes, I did notice that." Tyber put his hand on top of her head, protectively holding it down as a shelf of books crashed to the floor. "Maybe this ghost of yours is a disgruntled chef who was unjustly stripped of his Michelin stars."
"That's not funny."
"My cookbooks!" Todd moaned.
He started to pick them up but thought better of it when Mark yelled out, "Forget it, Todd! Wait until it stops—you might get hurt!"
Through it all, Hubble sat in the corner cool as a cucumber, reading his paperback.
Zanita raised her head. "Why is he just sitting there?"
Tyber murmured, "Better question might be: why aren't any of the flying gadgets going near him?" He ducked on top of her to avoid a lemon zester.
"Because he doesn't believe in it?" Zanita mumbled facetiously against Tyber's shoulder. "I don't believe
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