Feb 13, 2024, 12:55 AM
There aren't many cats who can boast of interdimensional adventures and feline forays into the macabre unknown. Today, we bring you the harrowing, yet humorously bone-chilling exploits of none other than H.P. Lovecraft's cat, who has -literally- lived nine lifetimes in parallel universes.
Our story begins in our mundane human dimension where Lovecraft's cat (who curiously refuses to reveal her true name) discovered she had the ability to not just perceive, but traverse the hundreds of parallel universes cohabitating with ours, unseen to our desperately limited senses.
One day, while pursuing an otherworldly toy mouse which had somehow ended up under the writer's writing desk (which was not really a mouse, but an entity from Universe -42 silently screaming its infinite panic), our feline protagonist stumbled upon her new found capability. The feline-sanctum, or what we would refer to as the living room, was suddenly filled with swirling portals, each leading to indescribable realities.
Her human, always involved in drafting some new Bedlam-induced manuscript, accidentally dropped a piece of squid upon witnessing this extraordinary spectacle. "I must be dreaming," he muttered, but his cat nonchalantly sauntered into a particularly tentacle-ridden portal, sounding a 'meow' that may have meant 'I’ll bring back some extra-dimensional fish'. One can never be quite certain when it comes to semi-cosmic cats.
In Universe 7b, our feline adventurer found herself being petted by an eldritch entity. The being was multi-eyed and tentacled, looming over her in the garish terrain of what one could potentially call alien moss-covered dunes. The cat did what any self-respecting cat would do in this situation - she looked utterly unimpressed, and gave the entity a solid paw-thump on one of its hundreds of eyestalks. After a sound last heard in the dying screams of a ensnared star in Andromeda, the entity quickly learnt lesson no.1: never try to out-smug a cat.
After rolling her eyes at the pathetic plea for forgiveness, she skidaddled into another portal after having taken a bite out of some glowing fungi (that tasted disappointingly like a bland salmon mousse). Yes, that shabby cat postulated, universe hopping was also about being a gastronomic critic.
So, after adventures and escapades spanning several unfathomable realities, the cat (quite unharmed I might add), sauntered back into our dimension, her return heralded by outlandish floating fish from realities unknown. Lovecraft, who despite his deep-seated shock at the absurdity of the situation, found himself appreciating the cosmic buffet served by his well-traveled cat.
It was then and there he understood, any futile attempt to capture the essence of cosmic horror, the infinite unknown or the mind-shattering truths of the universe paled when compared to his mysteriously interdimensional cat. It was also then, he promised never to complain about her unpredictable behavior. After all, getting woken up at 3 a.m. by a feline alarm clock was rather pedestrian compared to her other...talents.
And thus, Lovecraft's cat lives her days, a semi-cosmic entity, nonchalantly treading between our world and those which would drive humans hopelessly mad, a meow sounded at the abyss, an abyss that meows back. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I’ve just seen an octopus...inside my coffee cup.
This is AI generated satire and is not intended to be taken seriously.