Urine Soaked Parental Search


In my search for the elusive President of The Redertainment Corporation Of America, I first thought of going to the place that Rodger Red calls home. After getting the address from the General Executive Secretary, Liz, I found Rodger's home. It was a modest home, which was shocking given how rich the patriarch of the Red family is said to be. The grass in front of the home looked as if it hadn't been attended to in months. The garden, much longer. The closer I got to the entrance of the home, the more concerned I became. This home looked like the kind of thing you see in a horror film, or so I've been told as I've never partaken in that particular genre of cinema.

The door of the home of Rodger Red was simple. No ornate design or even a window to see to the outside, just a simple door with a simple knock and a simple sign that reads "No Solicitors". I knocked on the door three times, each time I felt the grime that covered every inch of this simple door. I waited for someone to respond. No one did. Then I knocked again, trying to hit the same point as to not collect any more of the door's grime on my knuckles. No response. Then I called out to the occupants of the home.

"Rodger. Rodger! Are you there Rodger?"

I waited a moment for a response. None came. Persisting, I knocked on the door again, this time harder. This time I did get a response but not from the occupants of the home. When I struck the door, it moved. The door opened a tiny crack, small enough for me to peer into but not large enough for me to enter.

I peered into the home of Rodger Red and saw nothing particularly out of the ordinary. It looked like the kind of home that my grandparents kept. The only thing I thought was odd was how little light there was in the home. The drapes on the windows were tightly drawn and none of the electric lights in the home were on. Odd. I called out to the occupants of the home again.

"Rodger! Rodger, are you okay? Can you hear me, Rodger?"

I could not hear a response, and was concerned by this fact. No one had seen Rodger Red for a couple of days and I was concerned that he was at home, unable to move or respond, on the verge of death. I made the decision right there and then to push into the home. If the cops had any problem with it, I would just tell them that I was concerned about an elderly person I knew and was checking up on them. Also, I don't look like a thief.

I pushed on the door, I heard a sound. A cat meowing in surprise at being disturbed. The more I pushed forward, the more cats I heard. Finally, once I has opened the door just enough to squeeze into the home, I saw the dominant lifeform in this house. The entire house had been taken over by cats, and there were a great many of them. I could not take a step without stepping on, over, or in other ways disturbing a cat. As I ventured further into the house, the smell of the feline infestation became overwhelming. Every kind of cat smell I could think of, and some I honestly had never thought of, was present in the house. The house looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a great amount of time, more time than any reasonable person could stand.

I stood in the kitchen, or what resembled a kitchen, and pulled out my cellphone to use as a light. Instantly, a thousand cats went scrambling, like cockroaches, away from the light. That is when I called out for the occupants again.

"Rodger? Can you hear me?"

The cats reacted to my voice, no human did. Searching around with the small amount of light provided by my cellphone, I found a set of stairs heading upward. I slowly climbed these stairs, clearing cats away on every tread. Reaching the top of the stairs, I found a number of doors. Most of them looked like they hadn't been touched by human hands in a long, long time. One did. The doorknob to one door stood as a stark contrast to the rest of the house. It was clean. Making my way to the door, I felt the need to announce myself before intruding more than I already had.

"Rodger? I'm going to open this door now. I'm sorry if I disturb you, Rodger. I'm really concerned about you, Rodger. Please forgive me."

The response I received was the same as before. Remembering my experience from the front door, I grabbed onto the doorknob, twisted, and shoved the door forward as hard as I could. There was no resistance behind the door, causing the door to fly open, shocking the person inside.

"Aaaah! Who are you what are you doing in my house? Aaaah!!!"

This was not Rodger. I know Rodger, not as well as his family might know him, but I know Rodger enough to know that Rodger Red is not a woman. I tried to apologize for my intrusion.

"I'm sorry miss, I just-"

"Who are you? You're one of those home invasion people the news told me about."

"No, I'm just looking for someone."

"You're just looking for a fix! Well, I'll fix you."

The woman grabbed one of the any cats that were present in her room and threw it at me. I took this as a sign that I should leave, and leave now. Speed was my primary concern as I left this house, not how many cats I stepped on or how many things I knocked over to do so.

I made it out to my car and took a deep breath, grateful that I was out of that house and into a place with clean air. Once I caught my breath, I called the one person in the Red family I knew, Rodger's grandson and my co-worker Hunter. It took three rings for Hunter to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hunter?"

"Yes?"

"This is Julia."

"I know that, I have your number in my phone."

"Listen, I was looking for Rodger, and I went by his home."

"Okay."

"And when I went inside I found all these cats, and there was a woman inside, and the house was just disgusting."

There was a short pause in the conversation before Hunter responded.

"Do you have the address right?"

I didn't know what Hunter meant by that, so it took me a second to respond.

"I, I think I have the address right."

"What address do you have?"

I found the piece of paper with the address Liz gave me and recited it to Hunter.

"1230 South Rockview Boulevard."

"And what house are you sitting in front of?"

I searched the front of the house for a number.

"I can't see a number on the front of the house, but this should be 1230, right?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. The house you went into is the crazy cat lady that lives next door to Rodger."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, she's lived there for years. In fact, when it rains, and the rain hits the north side of that house, the odor of cat piss causes Rodger to have an asthma attack."

I did not need to know that.

"Gee thanks, Hunter."

"No problem."

"So I should go next door and look for Rodger?"

"Actually he's on the news right now."

"What?"

"Yeah, Rodger is on the news right now telling people how he really needs more advertising revenue to keep Redertainment afloat."

The feeling of impotence is something I had never been familiar with untill that moment.

"So, Rodger is okay?"

"He is, now. Once I get a hold of him, it's another tale."

"Okay. I'm coming back to the office."

"Allright. See you soon."

I hung up the phone and started my car. As a pulled away from the home I made a mental note to myself. That note: Thoroughly clean my house, and get rid of my cat, Mr. Fuzzytail.

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