The cat was slumped back in the corner of a wooden bench with armrests on the promenade with Angie and Lennie. They were discussing the pantomime that they wanted to do on Boxing day.
Two little girls come wandering by, “Ooh look! It’s the cat. He’s just sitting there.”
“Hello girls! Who are you?”
“I’m Solange and that’s Claire.”
The two little girls rushed up to him and threw their arms in the air, “Whay! Hay!”
They did this four times and asked for an autograph.
Were they upset? They certainly were. The cat spoke:
“I don’t give autographs.” He held up his forelegs. “Look at my paws. How am I going to hold a pen. No way.” The girls remained unhappy. “Would you like paw prints?”
Oh yes, they would. Angie pulled an ink pad out of her handbag and the cat banged out two paw prints and, before they knew it, two black noses.
It was Lennie’s turn to speak, “Hello girls! I’m Lennie, the director for Dick Whittington and His Cat. I liked your ‘Whay! Hay!’ performance, I filmed it and it’s now on the net. We’re auditioning soon for local people and I want you two at the theatre at the end of the pier at noon on Saturday with a two-minute dance or song or both. It’s your chance.”
The two girls threw their arms in the air, “Whay! Hay!”