Welcome back to the Katz Motel. I'm Katz.

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

bakingfriends:

Pinkamena bit her lip nervously. What was he going to do? What kind of mess had she gotten herself into? But if he kicked her out, her only choices were to leave her fate to whatever trouble was out there, or go back to the trouble she knew at home.

"…Fine."

"Excellent." Katz began pacing in wide circles around Pinkamena. "Now, I assume you have no skills or talents that are of any interest to me whatsoever. So I suppose I’ll have to use you as a sort of all-purpose maid. Make the beds, clean the rooms, maybe work in the kitchen, that sort of thing. just leave my basement alone. Oh, and don’t bother dusting. That ship has sailed."

"Ugh… And what do I do about… this?” she asked and held the rat by its tail.

"Ech…" He snatched the rodent from her hand and held it with it’s claws by it’s neck. "I’ll take care of this. You go back to sleep. And do not wake me again.”

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

He let out an annoyed groan, “I don’t care about the rodent you neon nimrod, why, oh why was i woken up at god knows when in the morning by your howling!?” He punctuated his sentence by pounding the ceiling with his fist, causing dust to shower the girl below.”

She dropped the rodent to wipe the dust off her face and replied, “I had to get him to be quiet somehow!” And then it occurred to her: “You’re not gonna kick me out, are you?”

"Eugh…" Katz rubbed his temples before scuttling off a few yards and finding a sufficiently wide but still impossibly narrow gap in the boards that made up the ceiling. He squeezed an arm through, then another, then, in some extra-euclidian nightmare of a maneuver, his head. At that point he simply let his weight work for him and pour him through the gap. He landed in front of her, on his feet with his arms crossed, and smugly satisfied. "I’ll tell you what. I’ll overlook this little interruption on one condition: you work for me for the remainder of your stay."

Pinkamena bit her lip nervously. What was he going to do? What kind of mess had she gotten herself into? But if he kicked her out, her only choices were to leave her fate to whatever trouble was out there, or go back to the trouble she knew at home.

"…Fine."

"Excellent." Katz began pacing in wide circles around Pinkamena. "Now, I assume you have no skills or talents that are of any interest to me whatsoever. So I suppose I’ll have to use you as a sort of all-purpose maid. Make the beds, clean the rooms, maybe work in the kitchen, that sort of thing. just leave my basement alone. Oh, and don’t bother dusting. That ship has sailed."

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

He let out an annoyed groan, “I don’t care about the rodent you neon nimrod, why, oh why was i woken up at god knows when in the morning by your howling!?” He punctuated his sentence by pounding the ceiling with his fist, causing dust to shower the girl below.”

She dropped the rodent to wipe the dust off her face and replied, “I had to get him to be quiet somehow!” And then it occurred to her: “You’re not gonna kick me out, are you?”

"Eugh…" Katz rubbed his temples before scuttling off a few yards and finding a sufficiently wide but still impossibly narrow gap in the boards that made up the ceiling. He squeezed an arm through, then another, then, in some extra-euclidian nightmare of a maneuver, his head. At that point he simply let his weight work for him and pour him through the gap. He landed in front of her, on his feet with his arms crossed, and smugly satisfied. "I’ll tell you what. I’ll overlook this little interruption on one condition: you work for me for the remainder of your stay."

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

"Eugh…" Katz was roused from his sleep by that relentless banging on his ceiling. No doubt that pink idiot had woken up and ran through the halls for no reason other than to spite him. Typical of the kind of ingrate that so often blew through his motel. With another groaning sigh, Katz dragged himself through the cobwebs and dust along the grey dirt floor until he found the slightly depressed floor that squeaked loudly with every subtle movement. He crawled toward the false wall and stood, is ribcage compressed between the false wall and the real one, and peered through a tiny gap in the boards. "What do you think you’re doing?” he said in an angry stage whisper.

Pinkamena stood there, frozen and speechless and afraid with the rat still in her hands; Gummy, meanwhile, took a more active approach and waddled behind her. “I— Um, I—” The poor girl barely think, let alone speak. She fiddled with the vermin between her fingers and wasn’t sure what to do with it now. She just stood there stupefied and trembling.

Katz let out a soft growl. He decided he would get his revenge on this loudmouth little techinicolor tart for while he had the chance and scrambled up the inside wall until he reached the dropped ceiling, and squeezed himself through the narrow boards. “Answer me!” He demanded from directly above her.

She flinched and lifted the bloody rat above her head so he could see. “But it wasn’t my fault!” she cried, “He wouldn’t stop talking, and then he bit me, and I just—lost it!”

He let out an annoyed groan, “I don’t care about the rodent you neon nimrod, why, oh why was i woken up at god knows when in the morning by your howling!?” He punctuated his sentence by pounding the ceiling with his fist, causing dust to shower the girl below.”

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

"Eugh…" Katz was roused from his sleep by that relentless banging on his ceiling. No doubt that pink idiot had woken up and ran through the halls for no reason other than to spite him. Typical of the kind of ingrate that so often blew through his motel. With another groaning sigh, Katz dragged himself through the cobwebs and dust along the grey dirt floor until he found the slightly depressed floor that squeaked loudly with every subtle movement. He crawled toward the false wall and stood, is ribcage compressed between the false wall and the real one, and peered through a tiny gap in the boards. "What do you think you’re doing?” he said in an angry stage whisper.

Pinkamena stood there, frozen and speechless and afraid with the rat still in her hands; Gummy, meanwhile, took a more active approach and waddled behind her. “I— Um, I—” The poor girl barely think, let alone speak. She fiddled with the vermin between her fingers and wasn’t sure what to do with it now. She just stood there stupefied and trembling.

Katz let out a soft growl. He decided he would get his revenge on this loudmouth little techinicolor tart for while he had the chance and scrambled up the inside wall until he reached the dropped ceiling, and squeezed himself through the narrow boards. “Answer me!” He demanded from directly above her.

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

Katz, meanwhile, watched his new guest disappear down the hall, and sighed. Of course she couldn’t pick a room in view. In hindsight, buying all of the locks to fit the same key wasn’t the time saver it appeared to be. He made his way down the hall, pressing his ear against every door until he heard the sounds of her breathing and that strange… gurgling noise of that reptile. 124 was the number in chipped paint on the door frame. He made note of it, then went back to his usual post in the crawlspace beneath the trapdoor behind his desk.

It was past midnight when Pinkamena felt something tickling her nose and woke her up. When she opened her eyes, the rat sniffing her sat up straight and said politely, “You really ought to leave, you know.” “What makes you say that?” she yawned, thinking she was still dreaming. The rat frowned and bit her nose to jostle her to life. “Ow! Why you—”

"Sorry," he said, "but I needed to make sure you were listening."

Rubbing her nose, she replied, “I am now. Why should I leave?”

"Creepy stuff happens in Nowhere." The rat looked around nervously with wide eyes and twitchy whiskers. "You should go back where you came from."

"Maybe I don’t want to go back," she replied, getting mad now at such a nosy rat, ruining her sleep and getting involved in things he shouldn’t. Pinkamena rolled over and pulled the covers over her and pretended to go back to sleep.

The rat frowned, impatient and indignant. He was only trying to help; he knew how things worked around here. He scurried close and bit her hard on the ear. “Go, home!" he barked and immediately regretted his decision when the now enraged pink-haired stranger jumped to her feet and tried to grab him. He ran off the bed and, somehow, under the door and into the hall. She followed suit and swung the door open with a mug in hand (provided on the dresser across the room and sitting next to a small coffee machine) and chased the pesky rodent through the dark and sketchy motel.

"I’m only trying to help!" he squeaked, having carelessly run himself into a corner. "Just go home!"

"I can’t go home!" she hissed; whatever this stupid rodent was trying to warn her about, it couldn’t be worse than the family and gloomy farm life she left behind. Absolutely nothing could be worse than that, she thought. Still the rat kept protesting and pleading with his paws over his head and eyes shut tight with fear. "Shut up!" she screamed and flung the mug at him. It hit him square in the head and knocked him against the wall. It shattered and a high-pitched squeal was cut short when he died almost instantly; it didn’t take long for the blood staining his gray floor to trickle down into a puddle and stain the floor.

An ordinary rat was lying dead on the ground next to a broken and bloody-stained mug and now Pinkamena didn’t know what to do about it. “Oh God, I killed it,” she whispered. “I killed it, I killed a poor innocent rat.” She started to cry. She didn’t mean to kill it! But he wouldn’t stop talking, it—it was his fault! Now she would have to leave for sure, and with no place else to go but home… Maybe she could hide it! Gingerly, carefully, she picked it up and stood there dumbstruck. She looked around half-blinded by tears for some solution but found Gummy by her feet with his head tilted.

"Go away," she pleaded in a hushed and shaky whisper. "Mommy’s trying to think. Oh God, oh God, what do I do…"

"Eugh…" Katz was roused from his sleep by that relentless banging on his ceiling. No doubt that pink idiot had woken up and ran through the halls for no reason other than to spite him. Typical of the kind of ingrate that so often blew through his motel. With another groaning sigh, Katz dragged himself through the cobwebs and dust along the grey dirt floor until he found the slightly depressed floor that squeaked loudly with every subtle movement. He crawled toward the false wall and stood, is ribcage compressed between the false wall and the real one, and peered through a tiny gap in the boards. "What do you think you’re doing?” he said in an angry stage whisper.

bakingfriends:

thekatzmotel:

bakingfriends:

"There’s a city? I’ve been walking around forever and haven’t seen anything!" she replied. She glanced at the ledger and added, "Which room is mine?"

"It’s a fair bit away in… that direction." He pointed to his left without looking up, "As for your room, eh…" He took a key from the hooks on the wall and dropped it in front of her, still without looking up, "Pick one."

Pinkamena didn’t think he was actually busy with anything, but didn’t care to say something about it. So far this “Katz” person—cat—wasn’t the friendliest, and so wanted to interact with him as little as possible during her stay. She took the key and dragged her things down the hall until she picked a room at random, unlocked the door, closed it behind her, and fell on the bed lying on her stomach.

Katz, meanwhile, watched his new guest disappear down the hall, and sighed. Of course she couldn’t pick a room in view. In hindsight, buying all of the locks to fit the same key wasn’t the time saver it appeared to be. He made his way down the hall, pressing his ear against every door until he heard the sounds of her breathing and that strange… gurgling noise of that reptile. 124 was the number in chipped paint on the door frame. He made note of it, then went back to his usual post in the crawlspace beneath the trapdoor behind his desk.

bakingfriends:

"There’s a city? I’ve been walking around forever and haven’t seen anything!" she replied. She glanced at the ledger and added, "Which room is mine?"

"It’s a fair bit away in… that direction." He pointed to his left without looking up, "As for your room, eh…" He took a key from the hooks on the wall and dropped it in front of her, still without looking up, "Pick one."

drunkenlemur asked:

"Well shit...you're back."

"Back? I never left. Well, I went to tend to the resort for a bit but i never really left."

bakingfriends:

"Hmm… Do you put chocolates on pillows?" she asked. "Oh! Also—" Pinkamena lifted her leg and showed him the alligator gnawing on her ankle "—are pets allowed? He’s well-behaved and has no teeth."

He regarded the reptile with the same blank, deadpan stare that he fixed on Pinkamena.  ”… I suppose,” he nodded to the sign on the wall, “as long as it’s not some kind of mutant dog. Around here I wouldn’t be surprised. As for the chocolate, I’m afraid this is not the forefront of my candy-making venture. You’ll have to go into the city for that.”