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As we heard in Astropup and the Good Cat, Astropup has joined up with a cat on the Planet of the Pirates. They hope that a certain man with a laser gun can help rescue the Parrot from the clutches of the cat pirates.

Story by Bertie.

Read by Richard.

Proofread by Jana Elizabeth.

The man with a laser gun lived two floors above the duck with one wing. I stood outside his door and woofed three times.

"Quiet, let me sleep," came a gruff voice from within.

The Good Cat meowed. I realized how much my talking friend the Parrot used to do for me.

"Oh is there no peace for my poor head?" said the human. The door opened a crack, and then a little more. He was pointing a laser gun. "I'm Marlow, who are you?" he asked.

"GRRUFF!" I said.

"Confounded animal-speak. Hang on, I'll call a translator. Come in and make yourself comfortable. There's some straw by the table.. and excuse me for saying so, but if you want to do a mess, use the litter-tray that's provided."

"Mee-ow!" said The Good Cat with a wave of his well-washed paw. We were getting the impression that Marlow wasn't a born animal-lover. He was a big man, perhaps a bit fat for a gun-slinger, and he had to stoop beneath the low ceiling. His face looked as if it had been around the Universe a bit, and it wasn't made for smiling. I guessed that he had to get used to living a little bit like an animal. One of the few pieces of furniture was a large cot filled with straw.

"Hi monkey-face," he growled into his phone. "Can you get down here and do some translation? Thanks. See ya." Then he turned to us and said more kindly: "I forgot my manners. I'll fix a bowl of water." He went over to the sink and filled one.

The monkey soon knocked on the door. "Hey buddy!" said Marlow, and they slapped hands. "Can you find out what these two guys are yapping on about?"

The monkey spoke to us and we explained. Marlow stroked his laser gun and looked thoughtful. When he had heard the translation he said:

"Look I don't mean any disrespect. You two look like an unusual but ok couple. But it's like this. I don't work with cats."

"Oh I completely understand," I said. "But this cat is different. He's The Good Cat."

"The Good Cat hey," said Marlow. "That's nice to hear, but let me tell you a story, and you'll understand where I'm coming from. Back on Earth, I was a bit of a cat-lover, myself. I lived on my own, and I bought a kitten. He was a cute little fellow, even if he did like to chase birds. He grew up into a fine animal, but like all cats, he was a bit of a loner. I think that was part of the attraction. He just held himself back a little. He would ration his company somewhat, dropping in on me when it was dinner or sleep time. You never quite  knew what he was thinking. But as a pet, he suited me just fine. Then I went into space.  I was part of a big mission on board the flag-ship HMS Hesperus."

"Hesperus," I said. "The one that got wrecked."

"Sure. The very same one you were sent to salvage. But you were wrong about it being attacked by space sharks. I was there. I know what really happened. We picked up a distress signal. Boy that was exciting. We were making contact with an alien life form. We had all gone into space to do just that. The alien craft drew up right along side us. I was the one who was sent out on a space walk to make contact. A door hatch opened in the roof, I looked inside, and there - to my incredible surprise - was a cute little ball of fluff. In short, he was a cat, not unlike my own back home. I lifted him out, and took him in my arms back to our ship. We kept him in quarantine for three months. When the medics were sure he had no alien cat flu or what-have-you, he had full roam of the ship. The scientists were dumb-founded. You go to the other side of the Universe, make contact with ET, and find he's a cat just like the moggy you left back on the sofa at home. But we almost forgot about the strangest fact of all - that somehow he knew how to fly a spacecraft. That was our downfall. He was an agent sent by the cat people. He was the cat-within, and he opened up our cargo doors for a group of cat commandos. They were terrifying creatures, that could walk on two legs and had hands that could fire laser guns. You see this weapon. It's feline technology. I took it off one of the cat people in the fight that followed. We weren't ready for a fight. Most of our crew were either killed or captured. I got away inside a shuttle craft. I spent six months inside wormholes, until I met a ship of monkeys who directed me to this planet. Of course once I landed here, I hooked up with the crew of our sister ship, Vesperus. I can't say I liked what they were doing, making off with the ship's diamond, going missing, double-dealing every species in the Universe, and living the life of inter-galactic super-criminals. I made my views known, and soon I had a whole bunch of enemies. It was no longer safe for me to live with the other humans. That's how I ended up in this hole, as a gun slinger for hire. But I don't work for the bad guys. I'm on the side of good."

"Wonderful," I woofed. "help us, we're good."

"Sorry boys. But after what happened on board the Hesperus, I can't work with a cat. Period. I know a pack of stray dogs who might help you. You can find them a couple of alleyways from here. They live on the wild side, but their hearts are in the right places."

The Good Cat did not disguise his feelings. He turned his nose up at the human and said: "Well if that's the way it is, we'll be on our way."

"Honestly," I said before we went through the door: "My friend is The Good Cat."

"I hope he is," said Marlow, "but I won't risk my life to find out."

Out on the dark alleyway, I heard a clock chime. I couldn't count the bongs, because I'm not very good at counting, but there was a lot of them. It was getting late, and at midnight I was supposed to meet the cat pirates and hand over the diamond, or else. Only I didn't have the diamond. Oh Oh Oh!... I was going to panic.

"No need to pant like that," said The Good Cat. "We can still ask the stray dogs to help us. Maybe you should go and speak to them first. I'll wait here."

"Good idea," I said. "I'll see you here later." I found the pack of strays sniffing around some dustbins. Unfortunately one of them was the dog who had growled at me before. He recognised me and said: "Where's your best friend, cat lover?"

"Listen," I said. "I have more reason to hate cats than most. My true best friend, is a parrot, and he's been kidnapped by cat people. The cat you are referring to is The Good Cat, and he's helping me. I've come ask you lot to help me too. At the end, there will be a big reward. All the dog biscuits you can eat."

"Tell that to the puppies," yapped a terrier with white eyebrows. "The story of The Good Cat is just a fairy tale."

"He's helping me fight the cat people," I said. "And anyone who likes adventure and dog biscuits, should follow me now, because I've got plenty of both... of course if you have better things to do... like going to a fine restaurant or watching TV.... "    Clearly this pack of scalawag strays had nothing better to do than sniff dustbins, and so my call to action was hard to resist.    We joined up with The Good Cat, and when they saw how he ran along side us, just like he was a pack dog, he won them over.  We headed for the tree where I was supposed to meet the cat pirates and swap a diamond for my friend. My friends hid in a ditch, ready to ambush the pirates.

"I don't suppose they will turn up," whispered the cat. "I'm sure they are working with the Bank of Pirates. They know already that you couldn't get the diamond today."

And of course, The Good Cat was right. They didn't show. That meant that plan B went into action. We headed for the sea, and ran along the moonlit beach to pirate camp. We picked up a trio of beach dogs along the way, and now we were 12 in number, plus one cat. The ocean roared. The fresh salt air filled our lungs. Oh, we were going to give those cats a grrrrrreat surprise.

Now we could smell their fishy mangy fur of cat on the sea breeze. We bounded over the dunes, and found the cat encampment more or less exactly where the duck had described it. It was a dark spot, but we could see the glint of green eyes, and moonlight danced on the silver metal of their parked spaceship. In the centre of the camp they had set up a big tent.  Outside there was a little fire. They were of course cat people, which is the most evil form of cat, but they spoke more or less the same language as the four footed variety. This was where The Good Cat could help us. He could be our spy. He would go ahead, talk to the guards, and find out where they were keeping the Parrot prisoner.

"And if he is still alive," added The Good Cat.

"Oh I do so hope he is," I said, thinking of my little green friend.

We were careful to wait up wind, where the cat pirates could not smell us. I peered over the dunes and saw The Good Cat talking to the guards. Then he ran away in a different direction to confuse them, and circled back behind us. We smelt cat and somebody growled.

"Hussh," I said. "It's only our friend."

"Yes, it's me," said The Good Cat. "Your friend is there alright. They are keeping him in the big tent. That's good news. If he was locked in the spaceship, it would be hard to get him."

Are they torturing him? I asked, with a tremble in my voice.

"Yes, they are playing him cat music." Oh poor dear Parrot, how could he stand it? There wasn't a moment to lose. We began to crawl on our bellies across the dunes. We were in luck, as the guards appeared to be in the middle of a cat fight. They were quarrelling over a mouse that one of them had caught. They didn't even see us coming as a doberman pincher flew through the air and bowled two cats over in one go. It was a short charge to the tent. A speedy whippet was in the lead, and I was not far behind. We skidded in through the opening and I saw the Parrot tied to a perch.

"Get OUT It's a trap!" he cried. But his voice was lost amid the dreadful sound of feline orchestral music. In any case, it was too late to call the mission off now. The rest of the pack was not far behind me and set straight to work chasing the guards around the edge of the tent - but the cats slipped through a secret slit in the canvas, and moments later there was a creaking sound and CRASSH!! The tent came tumbling down on top of us. We were enveloped in its ropes and folds. We were all prisoners of the cat pirates.

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