Sugar Plum Jellybean

Dear Fluffystuff,

The most wonderful time of the year indeed, Fluffystuff! It is time to begin planning my annual performance of Christmastime’s greatest entertainment: The Nutcracker. Ballet companies the world over plan their piddly renditions in their rinky-dink theaters, but none compare to the grandeur of Jellybean’s Nutcracker. Were both Tchaikovsky and Balanchine alive to witness my great production, they would find themselves agape and in awe!

Now I do encounter some logistical casting difficulties at this stage. Since I am undoubtedly the star, I prefer to perform the roles of both Sugar Plum Fairy as well as the Mouse-Murdering, Handsome-Soldier Hero (I don’t recall his actual name.) However, my beautiful girlfriend Cordelia has informed me that from now on, she is the Sugar Plum Fairy. A gentleman recognizes when he must concede defeat!

Sneakers will obviously be Mother Ginger and his gigantic herd of a family will obviously play her children. I told him that he must wear his costume and he must not eat or nibble on his bonnet or tassels. Scampers wants to play Clara, and his audition was so-so, so I said “fine.” I suspect he believes he will actually receive all the toys under the tree for himself – tee-hee!

Do you think you might be able to attend our one and only magnificent performance, Fluffystuff? We’re scheduled for next Friday evening around 2am, once everyone’s awake and feeling lively. It would mean so much to me, and I’m only charging $4,999 per ticket! I know you’ve met Mei Mei and Mr. Too O’Tall, and they’ve promised to come. Oh, and Cocobean will also be attending, and you know how she’s always such a spectacle. She said she is bringing a raccoon as her date!

Fondly,

Jellybean

Turkeydumples

Hi Fluffystuff!

Jellybean can’t write this week because he’s busy making decorations for our Thanksgiving dinner. I haven’t seen him around lately, and now that I think about it, I ought to check underneath the mountain of pumpkin garlands he was last seen assembling. He’s pretty tiny, and sometimes he gets so excited about his projects that he becomes buried in them. Jellybean wants us all to dress up like our favorite Thanksgiving foods, so I’m a Tuna Pie. Braesnut is a Green Bean. Do you like my costume? I like it but it makes me hungry, and it’s also a little snug. Well, it’s about time for my nap, so talk to you later Fluffystuff!

Love, Sneakers

Breakfast Quest

Dear Fluffystuff,

I was pondering the state of my existence this week, and I’ve come to a profound conclusion: I do believe that my quality of life leaves much to be desired. In fact, I believe I am being grossly mistreated. I shall explain.

As you know, my dining schedule is completely determined by the Moron who feeds me. Upon my word, this entire universe cannot possibly contain any other such person so unqualified to fill the role of Jellybean’s personal maitre d’ as this particular Moron. She has not once studied the art and science of tending to a Jellybean. Rather, she spends all of her time reading silly books and cavorting with the Hoober Monster, occasionally shoving him into my personal bedchambers! What she gets out of that relationship, I can’t imagine.

On Tuesday, after playing with my jingly balls for an hour or two, I thought I’d peek into one of those books she’s always reading. You will gasp when you hear what I discovered. Not only is the book ridiculous in every aspect (the subjects are magical creatures called Herbits) but get this – these Herbits are fed something called “Second Breakfast” every day. If the Moron knows about Second Breakfast, then why isn’t she feeding it to me?

I had no choice but to take my fate, nay – my destiny – into my own hands. I skimmed a couple paragraphs and discovered that the Herbits occasionally found this Second Breakfast in the woods. I gathered my brothers, we donned our adventuring costumes, and off to KittyBottom Forest we went.

Well, Fluffystuff, we traipsed through the forest and hunted and searched, and all we found were a few horrified lizards and beetles. But I must look at the bright side – don’t I look handsome in my cape with my picnic basket? In typical fashion, Scampers and Sneakers refused to wear their costumes, and Sneakers stuffed himself into a tree hole and couldn’t get out. I think he is still there. Scampers invited Cocobean along, and she painted her nails and fiddled with her makeup the entire time. Cocobean invited Otto and Toto, and who knows what they were up to! At least old Braesnut, my obsequious friend, attempted to help, although I’m not sure he knows how to read a map.

Fondly,

Jellybean

The Mystery of the Missing Cans

Dear Fluffystuff,

As a little treat to myself, this week I’m taking a break from pondering the task of maybe beginning to think about starting to read King Lear. Instead, I’m revisiting one of my favorite series of mysteries. Unparalleled in complexity, unrivaled in suspense, unprecedented in cunning, I present the great, the only, Nancy Drew!

My dear friend Mei Mei also adores mysteries, as she is something of a respected detective herself. I gave her a call Monday morning to see if she’d like to read The Clue of the Velvet Mask with me. Nothing thrills me quite like the prospect of an impromptu book club! I suspect the other readers benefit more from hearing my gleanings than I do theirs, but I do enjoy performing good deeds, so I never charge for the education.

Come Wednesday, Mei Mei gave us a call all in a fuss! I wish I had been the one to answer the phone, but Sneakers grabbed it (he is always tying up the telephone, both literally and figuratively.) Mei Mei told me that the devilish thievery she’d been reading about in our mystery novel had occurred in her own home. And then her tale gave me a fright: you see, in our novel, the thieves stole uninteresting items like jewels; but the things going missing at Mei Mei’s house were the most valuable things of all: cans of Fancy Feast!

My naturally compassionate nature compelled me to speed over to to Mei Mei’s house to help solve the mystery. I found both Mei Mei and her brother, Mr. Too O’Tall, completely distraught, although Mei Mei had already begun unravelling the case. She calculated that approximately one potato sack’s worth of cans had been stolen, and Too is certain that a curious scuffling in the pantry had awakened him from his nap. I assured them that with my help, we will arrest the thief.

Other than this great mystery, my week has been ho hum. My brothers are still complete idiots. Braesnut and Scampers have been quite smug all week, sneaking around and giggling like silly nitwits. What else, what else… oh! the Two Morons must have bought us new food. They’ve been scooping out all sorts of exotic flavors, some quite delicious (Slurpy Turkey & Gibbles, s’il vous plaît?) But if this is a ploy to trick me into letting them pet my tummy, they are wasting their time!

Fondly,

Jellybean

Sneakercise

Dear Fluffystuff,

Oh Fluffystuff, what a busy kitty I am! I have no photographs of myself to send because I am toiling in a whirlwind of King Lear preparations. Therefore I present my snapshot for the week: Sneakers attempting exercise (see how proud he looks with his meager weights?) Any other week I would force my brothers to attend my Kitty Wiggles class, and Fluffystuff, you would adore my Kitty Wiggles class. Not only does it provide lethargic lazies with a chance to dance their way to kitty fitness, but they can also witness me, their instructor, dancing and wiggling on stage! Did you know that I am classically trained in ballet, and that I spent my kitten years studying at the Opera National de Paris? Chassé, jeté, plié, oui oui!

Sneakers was recently fired from his position as set designer for King Lear; in a scene that was tragic and embarrassing to witness, we found him nibbling the tulle costumes and shredding the papier maché backdrops. He’s spending his new free time lifting weights (inedible ones, I hope.) I see his newest kitten siblings are helping him: Brisket and Buttons, Peanut and Pumpakin, Herbles and Ham Hock. I am delighted to see him wearing those dreadful striped shorts! I keep assuring him that they are so flattering on his figure!

Fondly,

Jellybean