"Order, order." Mister Muffins gazed slowly at the others around the gazebo, all comfortably resting in their identical, pink-and-blue-striped patio chairs. "Welcome to the sixty-seventh lunar gathering of the Nettle Place Society. The first item on our agenda—"
"What a bother," said Comtesse Mittens, barely stifling a yawn. "I was in the middle of sunbathing, you know."
"Comtesse, you know well this meeting is scheduled at the same time every moon—"
(1/4)
(2/4)
A lazy ruckus of yowls erupted around the circle.
"Schedule? What's that?"
"What do you take us for, humans?"
"You've ruined a perfectly good hunting day. The pigeons were ripe for the picking at Calbot Square!"
"Where are the treats?"
"Order!" yelled Mister Muffins. "ORDER! The sooner we get through our agenda, the sooner you can get back to your _clearly_ more important occupations. The first item on our agenda—"
"Motion to take a nap," said Meatball.
"That is not on—"
(3/4)
"No, Meatball," said the Comtesse. "Like this: Chairman Mister, I move that we amend the agenda to insert a catnap as our first item. Meatball, you may say, 'I second the motion.'"
"O—okay," she said. "I second the motion."
Mister Muffins sighed. "Very well. All in favour?"
A sleepy ruckus of _aye_s bubbled around the circle.
"Fine. The first item on our agenda is a... catnap. Comtesse, Meatball, what—"
(4/4)
"I move," the Comtesse said, laying her head down on her paws, "that we vote on taking an immediate nap."
"Seconded," said Sushi, so slurred he might well have been sleep-talking.
"All in favour?" said Mister Muffins. Birds twittering in the distance. "And all against?" Meatball snorted, her rump twitching before settling back into her chair.
He sighed again, crossing his paws in front of him. "Fine, you lot. I'll take the snoring as ayes."
"Shut up and go to sleep, Muffins."
Laurabunny