Sky Cat and the World of Tomorrow!

by Rampage Productions and the Untamed Shrew

Generally speaking, I try to avoid precognition if at all possible.  For starters, it tends to be frowned upon in most tribal gaming establishments, and perhaps more importantly, I worry that the line between ESP and a dramatic reenactment of Scanners is fuzzy at best.  Be that as it may, today I am going to show you a picture.  Then, I am going to tell you what you’re thinking.  In the event this exercise ends with your head making like a three days dead raccoon on hot asphalt, you have my sincerest apologies.*

*And if you’ve never experienced a three days dead raccoon on hot asphalt, please imagine a cross between a giant, fuzzy water balloon and a biological weapon with a proximity trigger.  It’s a unique Midwestern phenomenon best experienced upwind, outside the blast radius, and in the company of someone you don’t really like armed with a stick and a tendency to poke first and ask questions later.

But enough about dead raccoons.  Onto dead cats.  Maestro!  The picture.

To get the full effect, you need to be humming Ride of the Valkyries right now.

Now, as promised, this is what you’re thinking, although I am going to make like a Wall Street trader and hedge my bets – choose the line of reasoning that best fits you.

Option 1, the Dog Person: The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Library of Alexandria, the Colossus of Rhodes – all these things, indeed, the entire sum of the human experience up to this moment has been for naught.  This… This wonderful thing is the apex to which our kind has aspired for so long. At long last, we look into the face of God.

Option 2, the Cat Person: Death is too good for him.

Cat people I’ve interviewed say the machine from the latter tale, while inadequate to the scope of the crime, would be a start.

I used to have an option 3 to the effect of, “That’s some mighty impressive PhotoShoppin’, Lou.”  But upon realizing the picture really isn’t PhotoShopped – that it is indeed a recently departed cat augmented with the ability to produce a half dozen pounds of lift – one will inevitably have to direct their thoughts as I have defined.  (And if you don’t believe me, click here for your vaunted proof.)

From here, it would seem there are only two places to go: either argue for the flaying of the individual bold enough to commend his cat to aviation or contact the Vatican for an informational packet on starting the process of canonization.  While personally I probably fall into the latter category, I’d like to offer a third option.  Specifically, I would like to propose we take this opportunity to reevaluate our Air Force because, right now, the Netherlands has one more flying feline than we do.  All we have are these stupid Predator drones.

Sky Cat downs another drone in contested Netherlands airspace. It isn’t looking good for the Americans.

While we’re at it, the cat-a-copter could also be used to put a friendlier face on domestic surveillance.

Is that a terrorist? Nope, it’s Chuck Testa.

Now I see why cat pictures are so popular on the web.  They’re an amazing substitute for actual content.  I depart with what I would like to assure everyone is an entirely hypothetical inquiry.  Presently, I have two adult guinea pigs in my care.  How large of a propeller do I need?


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