The Marketing Department

Oh those bad boys in marketing are rich! They've always got some cheeky little plan to subvert the monkey boys and girls. For instance they's always bombarding them with sex. By the dark one's beard you'd think they was in a perpetual state of orgy given the billboards what are about. Used to be that terms like "discretion" and "tact" were words of the day. Now they got the bloody hookers wearing teeny bits big as a barn over the roadside. Temptation is only one street away. Rich!

Mal showed me this new "Viral Marketing" the humans are all getting on about. I looks at old Mal and says we've been doing this for decades. He just shrugged his shoulders and said, "The humans think they've invented everything."

Detention's viral marketing campaign has been hitting the American language lately. The one I love the most is the phrase they introduced a few years back. Last night I heard a couple of simian chaps use it.

Monkey boy one says, "So Larry got caught cheating on his old lady last night... caught him right in the act."

Monkey boy two says, "No way! I thought they were going to get married!?"

Monkey boy one says, "Damn straight, but he wanted one more fling before he settled down so he hooked up with Maria for the night."

Monkey boy two says, "Dude! No way! Are they split now?"

Monkey boy one says, "Yah... but Larry's hooked up with Maria. It's all good..."

I love that! It's all good! It's all good!

Ha! Ha! Ha!

Now we got the monkey boys and girls believing no matter what they do it's all good. I never met a more gullible bunch of dim wits in me life... I guess that's why I loves 'em so.

What a Belly

So I told old Bucky he was formally a spy for detention now. Approved of by old Tres himself. I never seen my boy so happy before. He was running around, jumping in the air and scratching anything that would take his claws.

Then he did something he never did before. He jumps up into me lap, rolls on his back, gets to purring like a V8, and offers up his belly.

"Give it a rub Aimless. It's warm and soft. The humans love it, but I don't share it with just anyone."

Got that straight. I seen a passerby catch him unawares in the sun one day. That monkey boy reached down to rub Bucky's belly in an uninvited fashion, and came away with several mangled digits.

We's sittin' in front of the fire and I stroked his belly real careful. He purred along and I'm thinking to meself, "Is demons supposed to like stroking a soft, warm, furry, kitty belly." I mean I found it quite satisfying on a spiritual level.

Is there anything wrong with that?

- Aimless

My Accent

So I had to give Tres another report last night. Felt a little manky about it. I told him about Bucky being a spy and all, but I also told him it was my idea. I don't think Bucky would have minded with me making it look like he was working for us and all. If Tres knew what really happened he would have had a good laugh and barred Bucky for at least two lives.

Of course Tres wanted to know what was so special about this little girl. I saw that one coming and told him I had my suspicions someone in the family was working for the Administration. Bucky himself had seen this little tyke drive off a hound of hell with a twig. That one actually raised an eyebrow on old Tres's head and got Bucky authorized all formal like.

Then Tres says to me, "We need to talk to you about your accent."

"Accent?" I says. "What Accent?"

"Your Amero-Cockney-Judea-Slavic accent or as I like to say Lessor Demon."

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr... I don't like being call no Lessor demon. Just because I ain't been promoted in a few thousand years don't make me no lessor demon. They don't send lessor demons to the real worlds. I was a full fledged, blood and guts, slaughter slinging, power crazy demon of detention I was. The lessor demons bowed down before me when I walked into a room!

Then I got this here "promotion" to "Field worker Forward Observation - Recon Third Class". Had I known I'd be working for a third rate monkey boy that'd only seen the gates 'o hell once in his existence (bloody beautiful they are, first time I saw them I cried like a baby, they's in the Hellspawn's Inifinite Registry of Historical sites to see before you die again), I never would have taken the job.

"See exciting places! Exotic lands! Strange cultural habits like cooked food and septic systems!" That's what me old boss said. Pah!!!! What a crock!

Anyway Tres says to me, "I'm afraid you're going to give yourself away and I'm afraid your accent is keeping you from fitting in and getting me the kind of Intel I need. You need to talk more like a modern American."

"Like this then... Hey Tres you MoFo Som a bitch? Wazzzz happen' with your cranky ass?"

Tres smiled like a snake he did. He knows I wasn't just haven't a bit of fun, but he's cool that one. He just says, "They don't use the word cranky much over here. Keep working on it. Dismissed."

Grrrrrrrrrr.... Dismissed. Just like that. Oh, he knows how to get under my skin like a pack of soul ticks he does. Dismissed... one day I'm going to dismiss his cranky ass with the edge of my dullest blade...

-Aimless

Bucky's Big Adventure

Me poor lad came over last night head down and tail drooping like a dog that's been lashed by his master. Oh, he was a sorry looking one he was.

"What's the matter Bucky? You lost a near and dear?"

Had to scrunch up me ears right tight because he got to caterwauling like only a feline can do. It's like fingernails on the blackboard of your soul.

"I'm a failure," he says to me, "An abject flacid, flaky, feline failure... sniff."

"Bucky me boy!? What are you going on about?"

"They'll never let me in the club now. When word gets I'll be barred for the rest of my nine lives."

"Bucky I'm working at a distinct disadvantage here. A lack of information is what it is."

"Well... last night was the night."

"It weren't like any other night?"

"Nope no morning star... no moon... perfect for my mission."

"Your mission?"

"I did my recon first. Checked the entire area for 100 meters. I set up my scouting post at the edge of the woods and the target showed up a o' 700 hundred hours. I then commenced operation "Fancy Feast"... or was it "Meow Mix-it-up"? I forget. Anway I started meowing like the most pathetic kitten on face of the earth. I dredged up all those long ago emotions when I was taken from my mother and thrown in the wild in order to give a sincere and convincing performance."

"Ah so your a method actor then. Are you more in line with Stanislavski or Strasberg."

"Strasberg although you can't deny the influence of the former."

"Oh! Of course not. So go on then."

"I nabbed her hook line and sinker. She came over crying, "Poor little kitty what's wrong? Do you need a huggy? Some lovey dovey."

"Now you're going to make me wretch, Bucky."

"Sorry. It was disgusting. Anyway I waited till she got just in reach and then boom(!) i'm down the path like a cheetah on a gazelle... except she's chasing me. Anyway I keep her hooked. I'm always just out of reach to keep her interested, but to keep her running. I round the curve, I've got her stumbling foreward, I'm almost to the big old root in the path and I freeze!"

"You freeze!? That's not like you Bucky."

"There was a pitbull standing in the middle of the path! A pitbull! What are the odds? I've been down that path a thousand times and never smelled dog before!"

"Them there pitbulls can be right nasty... chew up old Bucky like a tasty treat and use his bones for a toothpick."

"Exactly! That ambulatory toothy gore factory starts growling at me. Pulls back his lips. Saliva starts dripping from his muzzle on to the path. His eyes get this crazy orange glow. I heard him muttering "Cat burger... cat buuuuurrrrggggeeeerrrr".

"Lords of hell and ladies of disrepute!!!! What did you do."

"Nothing! She did it! She did it! The little blonde girl saved me!!! She picked up a big old stick and bounced if off that brute's nose like some kind of ninja or something. It him so hard it crossed his eyes! He yelped and scooted down that path with his tail between his legs."

"Ohhhhh...." I said all knowing like. I could see where this was going.

"I was frozen Aimless. I didn't know what to do. She picked me up and then started rubbing my head and belly like only humans can do... and my STUPID kitty instincts kicked in and I started purring(!) and then the next thing I know I'm lapping up milk in her kitchen and she's asking her parents if she can keep me."

"What did they say?"

"Yes."

"You staying"

"The milk was really good."

I try to be a good sport. I try not to disrespect my fine lad and good friend, but I couldn't take it no more. I laughed until the tears fell out of me eyes in great rivers. Blood started squirting out me ears and spit was sprayed to the ceiling. When I was done Bucky just sat there in front of me with a look to freeze your soul. I thought he was going to jump me.

"Ahem... sorry about that mate. I wasn't laughing AT you I was laughing... yeah I was laughing at you." And then I started up again for another minute or too. Old Bucky's got some restraint because he still didn't jump me.

"I was hoping you would understand Aimless."

"I do mate I do and I have a way to turn this around to your favor. A way to make this another exploit about Bucky's excellent adventures in service to the dark lord."

That pricked up the lad's ears right straight. It was the first time all night I saw a spark of the old Bucky.

"You see you planned it this way... the dog... the purring... the mill. You set little blondie girl up so you could get into the family... as a SPY!"

Old Bucky's face went as bright as a super nova and I think I saw a tear at the corner of his eye.

"Aimless that's brilliant! You'll tell it that way?"

"For me best lad? In the beat of imp's bladder I will."

"Oh Aimless how can I ever repay you!?"

"Pah! Ain't nothing Bucky old boy. You and me is mates. That's what mates do."

Set me a fire in fireplace and Bucky curled up next to me and purred through the night. That's one thing humans don't get about us dark ones. We gots to have friends too, just a different sort is all.

- Aimless

Bucky's a Blast

Oh that Bucky he's a nutter. Crazy as a fox (although I'd never put it to him like that him being a cat and all) and the ego of a tiger. He stopped by last night to tell me all about his plan to boost his reputation with the dark ones.

"What's that old Bucky my friend," I asks him.

"I'm going to take down the little blond haired, blue eyed girl at the end of the street."

"Take her down?"

"Like a lion on a gazelle. I'll eat like a king for a week."

Now Bucky's a might sensitive about his size and all and he ain't no creature of power so I twisted up me guts not trying to laugh out loud."

"I've got it all figured out. She's always playing late a night near the edge of the woods. So I'm going to give her my best soulful meow and lure her into the woods. Then I'll get her to chase me down this old path and there's a big old root in that path and she'll trip on it and then I'll pounce! I'm going right for the jugular! Can you imagine? Little girls have got to taste soooo sweet."

"Wouldn't know old Bucky. Don't have many from where I come from. You sure you thought this through? She may be little for a human, but I'm thinking she's still six times your size."

"Are you doubting my feline fighting skills?"

"No mate, just your ability to work around the laws of physics."

"Hey! When she's down on the ground she's no taller than me!"

"But she'll still weigh the same mate. All she's got to do is roll on you and she'll turn you into a tube of toothpaste... not that I ever use the stuff meself... did taste it once though... kind of nice and minty it was."

"I'm gonna do it tonight Aimless! You'll see! All you dark boys will be talking about it for centuries! I bet Luke himself will come to see me about it. He'll probably give me take me into his clan... give me a real job with the corporation."

I just smiled. That Bucky's a rich one. Heart of a lion, but the body of a kitty. Oh well...

Pathetic...

Oh it's a dark day for the forces of hell when we go beyond the bottom of the barrel. Actually I guess that would be a bright day seeing as we love the dark and all. I've been in this damn soma too long. I'm starting to think like a bloody human. Pretty soon I'll be getting myself a puppy and writing love letters to some pretty. Nameless gods slay me now!!!!

Anyway I'm poking through the news looking for something that might warm me black hearted soul and what do I find? A rank amateur! I mean full out, mind numbingly incompetent. Back in the day when a brigand took to stealing there was blood to pay and screams for song. This here manky bit goes and shoots his left nut off! (http://www.cbs8.com/story.php?id=114776)

All I gots to say is detention is letting anyone join the ranks these days. Used to be a time when we had standards! This bit of stupidity would have been tossed on the bonfire and served up for dinner. Takes 'em out of the gene pool it does!

- Aimless

I really hate my boss....

So Tres calls me in for a report today.

"Look for anything suspicious," he says, "Miracles. Fine acts. Strange bouts of love, kindness and beauty. That's where the enemy will be. That's the reports I want."

With the monkey boys!? They's head down in global jihad... they call it. Everyone's a bloody terrorist! Where am I supposed to find acts of kindness. On top of that they make me skin crawl and I ain't a pretty picture without me skin... well for humans anyway.

So I combed the Internet looking for any malicious, maloderous acts of niceness and whatever else would turn my stomach and bundled up me findings right pretty in a spreadsheet. Old Mal taught me all this here technical folderol. I got to admit I like the old oogly googly. Makes finding that needle in the haystack as easy as puppy pie.

I give Tres my report and he just shakes his head and says, "This is why they named you aimless... no direction... no sense of order. What am I supposed to do with this?" Then he throws me work back on the table right under my nose like it's useless guts.

Oh he knows how to get under my skin, that one. He knows how to fry me gizzards up right toasty he does. He knows damn well how I got my name. It was for glory! It was for honor in battle! It was for the accounting of my talents in slaughter.... lack of direction... PAH!!!

Where was old Tres at the second ring war? He wasn't even a pimple on the arse of his monkey boy daddy. You see I got my name at the battle of the blood mound across from the northern rim of the first ring of hell. That's where Big-S broke through with his demon kin. A full legion of us lessor demons was waiting for 'em when they came through and I had charge of the crossbow boys at the top of the mound.

Big-S came in full on with his own legion of cave crusher trolls. They came in tossing boulders like pebbles and our entire front line went done in one pass. Nasty brutes those trolls... smashed into our spear men and broke 'em like twigs. Me crossbow boys was taking 'em down one by one, but it was too slow. They was wading through me mates below like calm surf. So I screamed to my mighty boys, "AIM LESS! SHOOT MORE! AIM LESS! SHOOT MORE!"

Oh that got that lot up. Was like a hail storm of iron and wood. The sky filled with our mighty bolts and more than one cave crusher looked like a porkypine. Troll blood ran in rivers down that mound and our spear boys and sword slayers waded back into the mess with renewed fire in their eyes.

We turned the tide on that lot and sent 'em back into the breach of the northern rim. They didn't come through MY section of the ring that day and old Luke knew who done him right. He heard my story and he gave me my name and I wears it with pride!

So old Tres can kiss my sorry Arse. What the hell kind of name is Tres anyway? Who's he to be disrespecting my Nom de Guerre? I earned it...

Oh and in case anyone's curious Bottlebottom is not the shape of my sitting piece! It's a family name earned by our singular reputation. Pass us the bottle and we'll drink it right down to the bottom! Now that's a Bottlebottom!!

-AIM LESS

When it ain't a hotel

Now this just really fries my gizzards. Sizzles 'em all up in jalapeno sauce and blows 'em out me arse! Makes me feel like a right fool it does! Why can't the monkey boys ever say what they mean? No wonder I couldn't get me head around it.

At first I thought the naughty tapes was made IN the hotel. I thought the mind numbingly dim series put the hotel ON a farm. Nice place for the pigs and chickens I thought and about time someone gave a break to the old farmer. But then they said the hotel was caught driving while intoxicated (I can't understand all that hubbub either... is there any other way to drive?) How can a bloody hotel fit in an auto?

So I'm talking to me mate Bucky Gutraker last night and I tell him how this here question is vexing me something fierce and he starts laughing! Rolls right on his back he does with peals of derisive laughter delivered in that demeaning fashion that only a feline can manage.

"Paris Hilton is girl dim wit not a hotel!" He says to me.

"A human!?"

"Of course"

"What manky human names their offspring after a bloody hotel!" I says.

"Billionaire hotel owners who must advertise constantly to make even more billions," old Bucky opined.

So it weren't no celebrity hotel after all! Bloody humans don't know what celebrity is! They've got no measure of it. What did this blond twit every do except pull her knickers up for candid camera or drive around like an addled banshee what sucked too much soul?

Down in detention we got real heroes! Old Jack the Rippa' split many a pretty. Up here they got Kelly Ripa and as near as I can tell all she is is a hand maiden to some talking head named Regis. We got Blackbeard! They got Carrot Top! We got Sweeny Todd! They got PeeWee Herman! We got Lord Caine! They got no one what matches Lord Caine.

Oh now he's a right hero that one. Turned the tide in not one but two Ring Wars. They say he committed the first murder among humans! The first! Now there's a human to make the heart go all a flutter. Of course he's more than just a human now, he's a creature of power. A right "A number one" C.O.P. he is. I hear he's on the outs with old Luke though. Too bad, because he's one we need on our side.

- Aimless



All this time I've been thinking this little twit

Bucky Gutraker

Me mate Bucky Gutraker stopped by yesterday to give the old boy a bit of a respite from these here humans and all their caterwauling. Bucky is one right felonious feline and one of the few purveyors of darkness from his species.

Most cats work for the administration fending of the forces of darkness and work mostly on the dreamscape. I don't have much use for the lot of them, but Bucky's his own cat. He's saved my sorry arse a couple of times now and I've had the privilege to do the same for him.

A couple of years ago the gutter folk started showing up in the bigger cities on this here blue ball. I ain't got much use for rats either. Best served up on a bun is my motto, but Bucky likes 'em raw. That's the little kind, not the gutter folk. There as big as a small man and as mean sake what ate a porcupine. They's all stringy and tough meat, but they is pretty fun to hunt.

Tres partnered me and Bucky up to see what was up and we had a good old time hunting in the sewers of Boston and New York. Even old Luke don't like the gutter folk much. There's a rumor they own the seventh ring of hell, but I don't know anyone that's gone THAT far out. I guess old Luke's afraid they might come charging right around Big-S and make a stab for the first ring. There's a thought to squeeze yer loins.

Anyway it weren't nothing that big. I read all about it in this book, "The Sorcerer's Song and the Cat's Meow". Evidently the Lord Dark Seer had his sights set on this here big ball. Can you imagine? Taking on the Administration like that? I got to hand it to Lord Dark Seer. He's got some big ones.

- Aimless

Do They Ever Shutup!

Oh my God do they ever shut up! Monkey boys and monkey girls going on and on about how bad they have it! Most of them don't even have to hunt or gather their own food any more. They go to these massive food emporiums laden with the finest delicacies from around the world (no rat burger though), put down a couple o quid and they's set for a week. Which would explain the ever expanding girth of the general populace around here.

If you're wondering where here is I've been assigned to a place called Hopkinton which is a small town near Boston... home of the best tea party ever (I was there)! It used to be quiet when I first moved into the woods, but some of them corporations moved in and now the bloody autos make a racket noon and night. They call it progress.

Then there's the bloody caterwauling on the teley. Seems a couple o hundred years ago some forefathers got together and came up with this thing called democracy (I should have been paying attention at the tea party cause a couple of me fellow celebrants was going on about it). Those old boys would be spinning in their grave if they knew what their spawn done to their baby.

These here candidates never shut up! The go on and on about "issues" but excel at the art of never really saying anything. Oh but they'll take your money lickity split they will. They convinced all the other monkey boys and girls that money equals free speech. Ain't that rich! Ain't that the lint off a cockroach's ass! Even old Tres laughs at that one.

If the monkey boys ever knew how many of these here politicians were locked up in old Luke's pocket they'd be spittin' cement! Oh that would be rich. The indignation! The humiliation! The burning! You gots to have some good old burnings after indignation and humiliation...

- Aimless

Hate...

I hate my job.

I hate these humans.

I hate my boss!

Most of all I hate my boss. Oh he's a slick one all right, Tres, is. He's got a soma what fits in right nice with the monkey boys... that is when they see him. He's one tough looking tall hombre, all big muscles, black eyes and blacker hair.

But me... I'm not impressed with the glamour but with what jobs he gives me... and what does he give? Observation! Always observation! Watch this Aimless. Watch that Aimless. Old Aimless is tired of watching monkey boys and girls. I didn't come up from detention to be a bloody video camera.

Now Jack Crack gets some right righteous assignments. Draws a little blood he does. Some say he's even got to mix it up with some Administration types. I hear tell he even gets to go to the shadowlands real soon. It just ain't fair! I've been on this here blue ball decades longer than old Jack and do I get even so much as a vacation.

So here I am stuck among the oblivious watching their mindless cavorting, caterwauling and canoodling. I guess all the wars are fun, the crime and the terrorism, but do they let me play? Keep your head down Aimless. Don't let them see you Aimless. Above all the Administration must not know you're here Aimless. Pah!!! Do I give a rat's ass about the Administration? Those pukes are so busy and befuddled they barely make it through their day serving their pansy, candy assed supervisors.

And it's got worse! In the old days the monkey boys was fine with their guns, and their swords, and their knives, charging about slaughtering each other. There was none of this technology. By the dark god's beard they can't stop changing a thing now! Change, change, change, day in and day out.

Used to be a man could get up in the morning and expect to find his things the way he left them. Now the bloody toilet flushes itself! The horse is gone and the auto starts itself up and tells YOU were to go! Weapons aim themselves and wait for you to pull the trigger. What fun is there in that? The damn teley's got 500 stations what's never got anything good on anyway. The phone's plugged right into your ear now, and everyone's walking around looking like cybermen from Doctor Who (me favorite show although I think the Daleks have been getting the shaft all these years).

And then there's the computers. They're everwhere! Malicious Intent loves the computers. Old Mal is always coming up with new ways to sabotage the Monkey boy's electronic toys, but me I can't stand 'em. They're always crashing, and bleeping and blooping and never do what you tell 'em to anyway. Took me two whole days to figure out this here blog thing and Mal had to help me...

I think I like this blog thing though. I used to keep a diary, but me last one got burned up in Chicago. Three hundred years of entries up in smoke. I was so depressed I stayed drunk for a year and didn't hurt nothing.

Mal tells me these here blogs are backed up. I'm not quite sure what that means, but I know enough about computers that I can get at it from anywhere on this blue ball I go. Mal gave me one of his magic accounts so I can log on from anywhere and do my business. Of course old Tres just wants me to file me reports online. He don't know nothing about this here blog. That's my business.

I guess I got to observe now. I'm watching something called Tickleman's. Christians I think. Nothing I hate more than Christians... cept maybe Tres.

- Aimless