Knight the Spookcat

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KNIGHT

once upon a time, science was called science because it was testable.
the knight slipped and lost his weapon on a marble road,
but that which he sought was found in the end, that immeasurable peace
and so his experiment was rendered obsolete by that haze.

this name cost me a paltry two thousand four hundred cc. take that, egg!

imagine with me, stringing this cat from a cot mobile and hanging it above a rabid dog
for the pure sake of curiosity. schrodinger has nothing on me for this is hypothetical and we
will never quite observe this phenomenon before i'm put away for animal endangerment.

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WHO

it’s up to you to decide, in all honesty.

if you look this way, you’ll find the bare necessities strung across a worn investigation board.
in the limelight is the white collar, the peripatetic, the arguably well-dressed
and relatively well-off citizen, that person who is the focal point of your investigations.

a quick sweep with your observant gaze will tell you that you have nothing to fear from
someone fond of bakery goods and scavenger hunts. on the other hand, you are of the
belief that an individual with a low blood pressure poses a great danger to society.

cast your gaze down. papers, everywhere. in fact, it’s so incredibly difficult to tell where
the paper ends and the floor begins, it’s impossible to cross the room without collateral damage.

while none of the pages have been left blank, only a fraction has legible handwriting.
another fraction of that fraction is fiction spanning a great number of media. you recognise an
even smaller fraction to be original works and take special care to tread especially on those papers.

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