bat’leth – Pain In The Bud

USS FOWL PLAY, NCC-2014A — Captain Buddy emerged from the turbolift, batting at the wrinkles in his uniform with his paws in a fruitless attempt to look more presentable.

“Not that it matters with these nap-interrupting brutes,” he sighed. “On screen!”

The helm officer tapped a sequence into his console and an image of a scowling Klingon materialized on the ship’s view screen, replacing the view of space and the sleek Klingon Warbird that had decloaked in front of the USS Fowl Play.

“Gruthnok vupar! This is the warship Dra’akkthar of the mighty Klingon empire!” the face on the view screen snarled. “Power down your pitiful excuse for a ship and prepare to be boarded!”

Captain Buddy smiled.

“Good to see you too, Captain Hrakhuul,” he said. “How are the wife and the kids?”

Hrakhuul snorted derisively.

“Only a fool jests during the hour of his doom!” the Klingon spat. “Have you no honor?”

Captain Buddy scratched his chin fur, pretending to consider the question.

“None,” he said, “but I do have a bone to pick with you. You woke me up during nap time. Again. Not cool, Hrakhuul. Not cool.”

Captain Buddy, commanding officer of the Federation starship USS Fowl Play, Galaxy class registration NCC-2014A

Hrakhuul growled.

“Your species is insolent, lazy and takes ten naps a day!”

“Why, thank you, Captain Hrakhuul! And may I say, you’re looking particularly savage today.”

“This is your last warning, Federation cat! Power down your shields and weapons or be destroyed!”

Captain Buddy yawned.

“I think I’ll have my crew serve me turkey sandwiches instead. Yeah. Turkey over obliteration, no brainer.”

This enraged the Klingon. “Prepare to taste your own blood at the tip of my ancestral bat’leth, feline fool!”

Buddy collapsed into his captain’s chair and kicked his feet up.

“Can we just skip this and get to the part where I outsmart you and go back to my nap?”

Hrakhuul cackled maniacally.

“So your fate is sealed, then. You shall fall before the might of the Klingon Emp…”

Captain Buddy cut him off.

“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you. This is a..an, uh…” He turned to Lieutenant Pawson, the tactical officer, whispering: “What kind of ship is this again?”

“A Galaxy class, sir. Same as the flagship.”

“A Galactic class starship!” Buddy said confidently, projecting the calm of a seasoned captain. “And we have, like, uh…”

“Sixteen phaser banks and two photon torpedo launchers, sir,” Pawson whispered helpfully.

“Lasers! Like 27 of them! And torp…er, missiles and stuff! Very powerful missiles. They make yuge explosions!”

Behind him, operations Lt. Commander Cleo hid her face in her paws.

Schemeowtics for the USS Fowl Play, Captain Buddy’s awesome starship.

“Enough of your meaningless babble,” Captain Hrakhuul barked. “Prepare to die!”

Captain Buddy’s eyes went wide with shock.

“Oh no! We have a warp core breach! Abandon all decks and get to your escape pods!”

Captain Hrakhuul snarled, fear in his eyes.

“What?!?” If you think I will fall for this again, you tribble with a tail…”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Hrakkie,” he said. “You’re in the blast radius.”

Captain Buddy made a cut-off motion to the helmsman and the screen returned to its default view of a placid star field.

The bridge crew erupted into applause.

“The Klingon ship is backing up, full reverse thrusters, sir!”

Buddy cleared his throat.

“Fire a few of those proton missile things to create an explosion, then hit the gas, warp nine!”

The Captain yawned into the back of his paw as he walked toward the turbolift.

“I am returning to my nap,” he told his crew before the lift doors closed, “and anyone who interrupts me will be thrown out of an airlock!”

This dude thinks he’s speaking to a cat in her native tongue, but what he’s doing is the equivalent of running up to a bunch of Klingons and shouting “I shall impale you on the edge of my bat’leth!” while mistaking it for a friendly greeting.

It looks like someone hired this guy to rescue the kitty, who like so many of her kind are prone to do, climbed up too high and then decided she didn’t like her odds on the way down. I don’t think his intention was to scare the hell out of her, but that’s exactly what he’s done:

When you manage to speak cat pic.twitter.com/5HrS7X8Nbw

— SillyCats (@catshouldnt) October 19, 2023

That’s not “Hi, kitty, I’m here to rescue you! Be calm, we’ll get you down in no time!”

It’s “I’m here, I speak your language, and I have bad intentions!”

If you listen with headphones or turn the volume up, you can hear the poor cat crying in distress, the kind of cry that felines make when they’re seriously freaked out and worried for their safety. No wonder kitty backed up. Her fur is raised and her posture aligns with her vocalizations and the rest of her body language.

Like most things posted to ~~Twitter~~ X, this is utterly lacking in context and we don’t know what happened next. I wouldn’t be surprised if the rescue attempt went horribly wrong. I hope not, but man, that’s not how you rescue a cat.

The video was posted by the account “place where cat shouldn’t be,” or @catshouldnt, and a common theme in the images and videos on that feed is cats in distress. They’re mistaken for “cute” situations by viewers, the majority of whom aren’t familiar with feline behavior.

Like, for instance, this photo. The tuxedo kitten is undeniably cute and he doesn’t look distressed…yet. But getting out is going to be a lot more difficult than getting in, and when people are willing to do just about anything for clicks, attention and the associated dopamine hit, cats often end up with the short end of the stick.