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Cat
A Little Game about Little Heroes
C r e d i t s
Ta b l e o f C o n t e n t s
“I Know I’m Dreaming”
4
Advanced Rules
17
Introduction
8
Increasing Your Traits
17
What You Need
8
Legendary Traits
17
Making a Cat Character
8
Experienced Cats
17
Step 1: The Traits
8
GM Advice
17
Step 2: Names
9
Step #1: Writing Stories
17
Writing/Layout/Design
John Wick
Step 3: Reputation
9
Step #2: Telling Stories
18
Step 4: Lives
10
Step #3: Running the Game
20
Taking Risks
10
Storytelling in
the Kingdom of Dreams
22
The Quality of Dreams
22
The Dreamer
22
Symbols and Absurdity
22
Exaggeration
24
Time
24
Jumping, Flying and Other Amazing
Acts of Physical Impossibility
24
Nightmares
Easy
10
Wicked Editrix
Annie Rush
Moderate
10
Hard
10
Testing Fate
10
Advantage Dice
11
Special Thanks
to Jared Sorensen
For helping me throw out the (litter) box.
Scars
11
Healing
12
Fighting
12
Fighting Other Cats
12
24
13
Fighting Non-Cats
Dreaming Rules
24
13
Dodging
Cat Adventures
25
Extra Special Thanks
to Cobb Still
Who protects little heroes.
13
Death
A New Secret Name
25
13
Reputation
Rescuing the King of the Cats
26
13
Using Reputation
Good Dogs and Bad Cats
26
13
Losing Reputation
Cross-Genre
Cat
27
13
Getting a New Reputation
Natural Enemies
28
14
Lives
A Note on Traits
28
http://www.wicked-dead.com/cat
Style
14
Dogs
28
14
Magic
Rats
29
Magic Points
14
Mean People
30
15
The Bauble Curse
Boggins
30
15
Cat
uses the
Advantage System
.
http://www.wicked-dead.com/advantage
Getting Wet
The Green-Eyed Monster
31
15
No Tail
The Man under the Bed
31
15
Using Magic
Ghosts
32
16
Fall on All Fours (Variable)
Heavies
32
16
Hide in Plain Sight (Variable)
The Shoulda Brothers
33
16
Sneak (Variable)
Fictional Facts & Factual Folklores
34
16
Doorslip (Good)
Last Words
42
Cat: A Little Game about Little Heroes
is © and ™ 2004 by John Wick. All rights reserved by
the Author, published here under permission. Any mention of trademark or copyrighted
material is not a challenge to those marks. The stories, characters and situations in this book
are entirely fictional. Except boggins. Those are real.
Go give your cat a hug.
The Dinner Dance (Good)
16
Dream Bite (Good)
16
The Chase Your Tail Whammy
16
Fighting Frenzy (Good)
16
Storytelling
17
I K n o w I ’ m
“ . . . d r e a m i n g ”
“Our house,” my cat says. “Let’s go inside.”
He opens the door and we go on in.
* * *
D r e a m i n g . . .
I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,
he tells
me.
You aren’t in charge. Sure, I know you like
to
think
you are, and with your guns and
lights and cars, you can kill just about
anything you want. But killing a thing with a
gun or a car isn’t the same as killing it with
your claws, and that’s where you all fall short.
When it comes to fierce fighting, your kind are
about as helpless as kittens.
“Hey, how did you…” I realize I don’t know
whether to ask him how he read my mind or
how he opened the door.
“Never mind that,” he says. “Take a look
around.”
I know I’m dreaming. See, mummies usually
don’t do their Wednesday wash at my
laundromat.
“You’re right,” says my cat, sitting beside me
as I pile microwave dinners into the dryer.
“You’re dreaming.”
“Anywhere. I just want to get away from
those mummies. They give me the creeps.”
I look up and see my couch, my TV, my desk,
my dining room table and… things. Black,
inky things with eyes and pincers and
mandibles and tentacles and mouths and teeth.
So many mouths, so many teeth. They’re
made of teeth. Little, sharp teeth that bleed
when the things smile.
That’s why, every thousand years, we win the
contest, and why, every thousand years, you
all come in dead last. Your champion shows
up all half-witted and naked, no more ready
for battle than a white blister ready to be
popped. You’ve got no teeth and you’ve got no
claws, and you just don’t remember how to
fight. It’s a shame, really. You know why?
Because the less you know about protecting
yourselves, the more we have to know about
protecting you. That’s our job. Well, one of
them, at least.
** *
My cat and me, we walked through a city full
of zombies. Not the flesh-eating, drooling,
rotting kind of zombies, but the “Where the
heck am I?” kind of zombies.
“What are all those...” (I don’t know what to
call them) “... crawling all over the place?”
“How do you know?” I ask him, fumbling for
quarters.
“Because I’m dreaming, too.” He licks his
chin and watches the dinners cooking in the
dryer.
I ask, “Where did all these zombies come
from?”
“That one over there,” he points at the one
crawling all over my favorite chair. “That
one’s a Lazy.” Then, he points at the phone. It
looks like a blood-bloated tick. “That one’s a
Fear. You made it real fat the last time you sat
in front of the phone, trying to call the girl
you met in class.”
I nod. “I think I’m getting the idea. But what
are they?”
“They’re you. Well, most of you. You know
when you can’t remember your dreams?” He
shrugs at the zombies. “That’s you.”
The dryer buzzes and I pull out the tin plates
filled with food. “So, why are you here?”
He starts snacking on the Southern fried
chicken. “It’s the only place you and I can
really talk.”
* * *
We get to the top of the stairs, and the door
opens up on a sky full of stars. “Come on,” he
says, and jumps on one of the stars. I give it a
shot, only make it halfway. I nearly fall all the
way through the sky to the water below – all
full of sharks and telephone booths – when he
catches me with his teeth.
I’m only briefly aware that my cat just
shrugged, almost get around to asking how he
shrugged when a beautiful brunette walks by
and my head turns all the way around my
neck.
“We talk?”
“The fewer names you give them the better,”
my cat tells me, licking his paw, washing out
his ear. “My grandpa called them ‘Boggins.’
It’s a pretty harmless name. I’ve heard them
called a lot worse.”
“Well, I talk all the time. Problem is, you
don’t know how to listen.” He chews more
chicken and I start with the cherry desert.
“And you usually don’t remember when we’re
done. Sometimes, things stick in that little
brain of yours. The important things, at least.”
“So you have something to tell me?”
“That’s your problem,” my cat tells me. “You
men can’t keep focused. It’s why your dreams
are filled with all this nonsense.”
“You’re better at this than most,” he says
through the grip he’s got on me, “but not by
much.”
He pulls me back up to the star. “Hold on to
my tail, but don’t tug.” I do what he says. He
keeps talking.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice as far away as my
cat’s voice. “Whatever you say.”
I watch them oozing all over the furniture for
another moment or so, then I ask him
something. “These things are dangerous?”
“Oh yeah. Mostly because you can’t see
them.”
“Ugh,” he says. “This isn’t going to work.
You’re just not concentrating.”
“Yup. A few things. But we don’t have a lot of
time. It took me all night to find you, and it’s
creeping up on dawn right quick.”
I shake my head. “No, no. I’m back. I’m
back.”
* * *
“If they’re so dangerous,” I ask, “why are they
all over there?”
“Good. Let’s get to work.”
For as long as anyone can remember,
he says,
there’s been the Contest. Every thousand
years, we all meet here in Dream and fight it
out for the right to rule the world. Last time, it
was us who won. The King of the Cats, he
I nod, and put the dinner back in the dryer.
“Where are we off to?”
I look up and see us standing outside my
house.
My cat smiles. “Because I’m over here.” He
jumps up the stairs. “Come on. I’ve got more
to show you.”
4
5
C a t
“ . . . d r e a m i n g ”
beat out the Bitch Queen for the rights, and
her kind ain’t given us no quarter since.
They’re a jealous breed, them dogs, and they
don’t like being in second place.
call up your doctor and he gives you pills and
you think you feel better.
another mile or so. When you hit the Jewel
Pool, let me know. I want to stop for a drink.
Another thing you should know about
Boggins. They’re contagious. Got them a
system of dropping off eggs with a touch, and
it’s bad. You gotta keep yourself clean of the
eggs, or they hatch and dig right in. Damn
hard to get out, too. I know you won’t
remember much of this when you go back to
the Wake, but if you remember one thing,
remember this: them that smell bad, they’ve
got the Boggin eggs all in ‘em and around
‘em. I know your nose is about as good as
your teeth, but even the dullest man can smell
a Boggin. You’ve just got to concentrate and
not ignore the warning signs.
Heh. That’s kind of funny. For all your lack of
skill in other areas, there’s one thing you men
are damn good at: ignoring things. You never
see anything you don’t want to see.
There’s a bit of sun on the horizon as we step
back into the house. The Boggins scatter under
the furniture when they see him, but he
doesn’t seem to notice.
It’s the Boggins that do that to you. Drinking
up your dreams. Soon, they get in there with
you. I see it all the time. Some man walking
around with his chin on his chest, walking like
he’s got no tomorrow, and he’s got Boggins
hanging on him like leeches, sucking and
sucking. I hate the sound of it. Yeah, I can
hear it. I hear it all the time. There’s Boggins
everywhere you look. Everywhere but where
there’s one of us, that is. There ain’t no
Boggins where there’s one of us, because we
kill ‘em, and we kill ‘em dead.
Now, us ruling the world is all well and good,
but there’s a catch. The one who wins has to
look out for the one who comes in last. We
won, you lost. You lost big time. You trim off
your claws, you dull down your teeth and you
don’t pay attention to anything that’s
important.
“You came all this way through Dream to tell
me about all this?”
“That was a secondary goal,” he tells me. “I
tell you about the Boggins every night.
Sometimes you remember, as best as a man
can, that is. Most of the time you don’t.”
“So,” I ask, giving my squirming couch the
evil eye. “What did you want to tell me?”
He looks up at me with his big green eyes.
“Not so much ‘tell’ you, as ‘ask’ you. See, I
need a favor.”
I looked over at the things staying far away
from me and my little friend, and I nod.
“What is it?”
That’s the difference between us and you. We
know Dream is the “real” world, and this, the
flesh and stuff, that’s nothing. We may be
small there, but in here, we got it all over you.
* * *
* * *
“If you’re doing such a good job, why are
there so many Boggins in my house?”
“When did you get all mean?” I ask him.
“You should have seen it before I got there,”
he tells me. The crystal ship lands on the
Moon and he starts chewing.
“Sorry. I get caught up in the bragging.” We’re
not in the sea of stars anymore, but we are on
a boat. The crew is all made of candy and
we’re sailing over soda pop.
Some Boggins you got to kill with teeth and
claws, but others are less tough and a whole
lot more stupid, and you can use tricks.
Sometimes they sneak into the house in
disguise. That’s the worst. Them we call
“changelings.” Most of the time, you can
smell a changeling right out, but other times,
they use Boggin tricks to sneak by you. Worst
kind is the ones posing as kids. Had to kill one
in the crib, once. That lost me my man. Nearly
lost me a life. His woman was one mean
woman, so covered in Boggins, you couldn’t
even see her face. Just her eyes, shining in
that bright light. I’ll never forget that.
* * *
“Something you can do that I can’t. And, after
seeing the Boggins, I hope it isn’t too much to
ask…”
“What?” he says, looking at me looking at
him. “You didn’t think we came all the way
up here because it’s made of rock and dust,
did you?”
“Don’t drink the water,” he tells me. Then, he
tells me more.
“Anything you want.”
He smiles and gives me a wink. “Glad you
said it that way.” Then, he walks away and
stops in front of that big tan litter box.
* * *
So, anyway, you all came in dead last. That
means you need protection. No, not from the
dogs. You need protection from the Boggins.
Yeah. Boggins. Monsters. Bogeymen. Those
things.
I know, you never seen them. You can’t. We
can. That’s where the protection comes in.
I pick up a hunk of it and give it a taste. Now,
I know why he wanted to come up here. I
chew and listen, and he does his best not to
talk with his mouth full.
* * *
There’s lots of kinds of Boggins, and if you’re
good, you know all kinds of different ways to
take care of ‘em. You know the saying,
“There’s more than one way to butcher a
Boggin.” But it’s dangerous work. Too many
Boggins, and even the best of us winds up
losing lives to ditch the bunch.
Boggins are bad. I mean real bad. They hook
into your soul with those barbs of theirs and
they hang on. They sink their teeth into you,
and they drink, and they drink. Worst part is,
you can’t see it. You can feel it, but you men
come up with fancy explanations for some
pretty simple stuff, all because you don’t want
to look at the truth. You wake up one morning
and you feel about as tall as a turnip and you
“Is that why you were in the adoption
agency?”
He nods. “Let’s not talk about that, okay?” We
catch a moonbeam back down to the street.
“See, I make sure you don’t have to worry
about the Boggins. I’ll take care of them. As
soon as we don’t have a Boggin problem
anymore, and I go somewhere else, and help
somebody who needs me.”
Yeah, I said lives. We won the contest, we get
nine of ‘em. Dogs say they get seven ‘cause
they came in second, but who believes what a
dog says? Now, go west – that’s right – for
6
7
C a t C h a r a c t e r s
1 : C a t C h a r a c t e r s
known for. Write “Best” in the Rank space
next to the Trait. Notice that under your Best
Trait is a space “Bonus.” Write 5 in that space.
Second, pick three other Traits that you like
more than the rest. These are your cat’s
S
TRONG
T
RAITS
. These Traits aren’t as good as
his Best Trait, but they’re better than average.
Write “Strong” in the Rank space next to these
Traits. Again, with each there is a space for
“Bonus.” Write 4 in this space for all your
S
TRONG
Traits.
Once you finish assigning your Traits, it’s
time to give your cat his names. As T.S. Eliot
suggested in his
Old Possum's Book of
Practical Cats
, cats have many names.
Cat
is a game for telling stories about cats
protecting people from Things they can’t see,
both in the real world and in the Kingdom of
Dreams.
M a k i n g a C a t C h a r a c t e r
Step 1: The Traits
A cat’s Traits represent his physical and
magical prowess. Each Trait is important to a
cat in specific ways. Your cat has a total of six
Traits. Let’s take a look at them and see how
they help your cat.
A cat’s
CLAWS
are important for fighting and
climbing.
Your cat has three names. His first name, or
given name, is the name men know him by.
His second name, or cat name, is the name
other cats, mostly trusted friends, know him
by. Finally, a cat has a secret name, one that
no-one knows, not even trusted friends. To
know a cat’s full name is a powerful secret,
one that opens up many forbidden magics. If a
Boggin ever discovered a cat’s secret name –
well, let’s just leave that thought alone.
Finally, all the other Traits on your Catsheet
are G
OOD
. These Traits are no better or worse
than any other cat’s Good Traits. Write
“Good” in the Rank space next to those Traits
and 3 under “Bonus” for all your G
OOD
Traits.
For example, look at the Catsheet on the next
page. This is Roland, my cat character.
Claws = Strong (4)
Coat = Best (5)
Face = Good (3)
Fangs = Good (3)
Legs = Strong (4)
Tail = Strong (4)
Roland’s B
EST
T
RAIT
is his C
OAT
, which helps
in his attempts to persuade other cats and
keeps him warm at night. His three S
TRONG
T
RAITS
are his C
LAWS
(for fighting and
climbing), his L
EGS
(for jumping, running and
balance) and his T
AIL
(useful for Magic, which
we’ll talk about in a minute).
As I do this, I write “5” for my Best Trait
(Coat), “4” for my three Strong Traits (Claws,
Legs and Tail) and “3” for the remaining two
Good Traits (Face and Fangs).
Step 2: Names
One for a secret, one for a riddle, name puss
twice and befuddle the devil.
Storytelling games are the oldest kind of
games in the world (despite what fans of
Go
think). People have been telling stories since
they first wondered what the stars were and
what made those scary sounds in the dark of
night.
Cat
is a game in the tradition of those
stories, where players explain just why cats
always jump at things that aren’t there, refuse
affection one moment, then rub up against
your hand the next, and otherwise act in
completely irrational ways. The easiest answer
to these questions is: cats see things we can’t.
A cat’s
COAT
shows off his colors and
protects him from claws and teeth and helps
him persuade others.
A cat’s
FACE
is his sensory center. It contains
his eyes, nose, ears, tongue and whiskers, all
of which help him sense the world.
W h a t Y o u N e e d
In order to play Cat, you need some pencils,
photocopies of the Catsheet, and a copy of this
book. One copy will do the trick, but the
Author encourages you to purchase as many
copies as you like, including copies you don’t
need, to share with friends.
A cat’s
FANGS
are important for fighting and
carrying things around.
A cat’s
LEGS
are used for jumping, balance
and other quick movements.
Step 3: Reputation
While Mr. Eliot knew about names, he failed
to learn from his feline friends that each cat
also has a number of titles, also known as
Reputations. A Reputation is something a cat
is known for, a particular skill, knack, or
quirk. If you’re good at catching rats, you
might have the Reputation “Rat-catcher.” If
you’re good at hiding, you may have the
Reputation “the Unseen.”
Like Traits, a cat’s Reputations have Bonuses.
Beginning cats (like yours) start with 7 points
of Reputations (and no beginning Reputation
should be higher than 3).
A cat’s
TAIL
is important for using Magic.
Before you play the game, you must first have
a cat character. Photocopy the Catsheet at the
end of this book for each player in the game.
Next, look at the sheet. You’ll see a list of
physical descriptions: Face, Tail, Legs, Claws,
etc. These are called “Traits,” and they
describe your cat’s abilities. Now, proceed
step-by-step below.
Picking Traits
Now you know what the Traits do, it is time to
figure out which Trait is his B
EST
T
RAIT
and
which of his Traits are his three S
TRONG
T
RAITS
. The remaining Traits you don’t make
his Best and Strong Traits are G
OOD
.
First, take a look at the Traits, and think about
which one is the most important to you. This
is your B
EST
T
RAIT
. This is your cat’s shining,
defining Trait, used for the actions he is
– Folk Saying
8
9
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Cat
A Little Game about Little Heroes
C r e d i t s
Ta b l e o f C o n t e n t s
“I Know I’m Dreaming”
4
Advanced Rules
17
Introduction
8
Increasing Your Traits
17
What You Need
8
Legendary Traits
17
Making a Cat Character
8
Experienced Cats
17
Step 1: The Traits
8
GM Advice
17
Step 2: Names
9
Step #1: Writing Stories
17
Writing/Layout/Design
John Wick
Step 3: Reputation
9
Step #2: Telling Stories
18
Step 4: Lives
10
Step #3: Running the Game
20
Taking Risks
10
Storytelling in
the Kingdom of Dreams
22
The Quality of Dreams
22
The Dreamer
22
Symbols and Absurdity
22
Exaggeration
24
Time
24
Jumping, Flying and Other Amazing
Acts of Physical Impossibility
24
Nightmares
Easy
10
Wicked Editrix
Annie Rush
Moderate
10
Hard
10
Testing Fate
10
Advantage Dice
11
Special Thanks
to Jared Sorensen
For helping me throw out the (litter) box.
Scars
11
Healing
12
Fighting
12
Fighting Other Cats
12
24
13
Fighting Non-Cats
Dreaming Rules
24
13
Dodging
Cat Adventures
25
Extra Special Thanks
to Cobb Still
Who protects little heroes.
13
Death
A New Secret Name
25
13
Reputation
Rescuing the King of the Cats
26
13
Using Reputation
Good Dogs and Bad Cats
26
13
Losing Reputation
Cross-Genre
Cat
27
13
Getting a New Reputation
Natural Enemies
28
14
Lives
A Note on Traits
28
http://www.wicked-dead.com/cat
Style
14
Dogs
28
14
Magic
Rats
29
Magic Points
14
Mean People
30
15
The Bauble Curse
Boggins
30
15
Cat
uses the
Advantage System
.
http://www.wicked-dead.com/advantage
Getting Wet
The Green-Eyed Monster
31
15
No Tail
The Man under the Bed
31
15
Using Magic
Ghosts
32
16
Fall on All Fours (Variable)
Heavies
32
16
Hide in Plain Sight (Variable)
The Shoulda Brothers
33
16
Sneak (Variable)
Fictional Facts & Factual Folklores
34
16
Doorslip (Good)
Last Words
42
Cat: A Little Game about Little Heroes
is © and ™ 2004 by John Wick. All rights reserved by
the Author, published here under permission. Any mention of trademark or copyrighted
material is not a challenge to those marks. The stories, characters and situations in this book
are entirely fictional. Except boggins. Those are real.
Go give your cat a hug.
The Dinner Dance (Good)
16
Dream Bite (Good)
16
The Chase Your Tail Whammy
16
Fighting Frenzy (Good)
16
Storytelling
17
I K n o w I ’ m
“ . . . d r e a m i n g ”
“Our house,” my cat says. “Let’s go inside.”
He opens the door and we go on in.
* * *
D r e a m i n g . . .
I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,
he tells
me.
You aren’t in charge. Sure, I know you like
to
think
you are, and with your guns and
lights and cars, you can kill just about
anything you want. But killing a thing with a
gun or a car isn’t the same as killing it with
your claws, and that’s where you all fall short.
When it comes to fierce fighting, your kind are
about as helpless as kittens.
“Hey, how did you…” I realize I don’t know
whether to ask him how he read my mind or
how he opened the door.
“Never mind that,” he says. “Take a look
around.”
I know I’m dreaming. See, mummies usually
don’t do their Wednesday wash at my
laundromat.
“You’re right,” says my cat, sitting beside me
as I pile microwave dinners into the dryer.
“You’re dreaming.”
“Anywhere. I just want to get away from
those mummies. They give me the creeps.”
I look up and see my couch, my TV, my desk,
my dining room table and… things. Black,
inky things with eyes and pincers and
mandibles and tentacles and mouths and teeth.
So many mouths, so many teeth. They’re
made of teeth. Little, sharp teeth that bleed
when the things smile.
That’s why, every thousand years, we win the
contest, and why, every thousand years, you
all come in dead last. Your champion shows
up all half-witted and naked, no more ready
for battle than a white blister ready to be
popped. You’ve got no teeth and you’ve got no
claws, and you just don’t remember how to
fight. It’s a shame, really. You know why?
Because the less you know about protecting
yourselves, the more we have to know about
protecting you. That’s our job. Well, one of
them, at least.
** *
My cat and me, we walked through a city full
of zombies. Not the flesh-eating, drooling,
rotting kind of zombies, but the “Where the
heck am I?” kind of zombies.
“What are all those...” (I don’t know what to
call them) “... crawling all over the place?”
“How do you know?” I ask him, fumbling for
quarters.
“Because I’m dreaming, too.” He licks his
chin and watches the dinners cooking in the
dryer.
I ask, “Where did all these zombies come
from?”
“That one over there,” he points at the one
crawling all over my favorite chair. “That
one’s a Lazy.” Then, he points at the phone. It
looks like a blood-bloated tick. “That one’s a
Fear. You made it real fat the last time you sat
in front of the phone, trying to call the girl
you met in class.”
I nod. “I think I’m getting the idea. But what
are they?”
“They’re you. Well, most of you. You know
when you can’t remember your dreams?” He
shrugs at the zombies. “That’s you.”
The dryer buzzes and I pull out the tin plates
filled with food. “So, why are you here?”
He starts snacking on the Southern fried
chicken. “It’s the only place you and I can
really talk.”
* * *
We get to the top of the stairs, and the door
opens up on a sky full of stars. “Come on,” he
says, and jumps on one of the stars. I give it a
shot, only make it halfway. I nearly fall all the
way through the sky to the water below – all
full of sharks and telephone booths – when he
catches me with his teeth.
I’m only briefly aware that my cat just
shrugged, almost get around to asking how he
shrugged when a beautiful brunette walks by
and my head turns all the way around my
neck.
“We talk?”
“The fewer names you give them the better,”
my cat tells me, licking his paw, washing out
his ear. “My grandpa called them ‘Boggins.’
It’s a pretty harmless name. I’ve heard them
called a lot worse.”
“Well, I talk all the time. Problem is, you
don’t know how to listen.” He chews more
chicken and I start with the cherry desert.
“And you usually don’t remember when we’re
done. Sometimes, things stick in that little
brain of yours. The important things, at least.”
“So you have something to tell me?”
“That’s your problem,” my cat tells me. “You
men can’t keep focused. It’s why your dreams
are filled with all this nonsense.”
“You’re better at this than most,” he says
through the grip he’s got on me, “but not by
much.”
He pulls me back up to the star. “Hold on to
my tail, but don’t tug.” I do what he says. He
keeps talking.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice as far away as my
cat’s voice. “Whatever you say.”
I watch them oozing all over the furniture for
another moment or so, then I ask him
something. “These things are dangerous?”
“Oh yeah. Mostly because you can’t see
them.”
“Ugh,” he says. “This isn’t going to work.
You’re just not concentrating.”
“Yup. A few things. But we don’t have a lot of
time. It took me all night to find you, and it’s
creeping up on dawn right quick.”
I shake my head. “No, no. I’m back. I’m
back.”
* * *
“If they’re so dangerous,” I ask, “why are they
all over there?”
“Good. Let’s get to work.”
For as long as anyone can remember,
he says,
there’s been the Contest. Every thousand
years, we all meet here in Dream and fight it
out for the right to rule the world. Last time, it
was us who won. The King of the Cats, he
I nod, and put the dinner back in the dryer.
“Where are we off to?”
I look up and see us standing outside my
house.
My cat smiles. “Because I’m over here.” He
jumps up the stairs. “Come on. I’ve got more
to show you.”
4
5
C a t
“ . . . d r e a m i n g ”
beat out the Bitch Queen for the rights, and
her kind ain’t given us no quarter since.
They’re a jealous breed, them dogs, and they
don’t like being in second place.
call up your doctor and he gives you pills and
you think you feel better.
another mile or so. When you hit the Jewel
Pool, let me know. I want to stop for a drink.
Another thing you should know about
Boggins. They’re contagious. Got them a
system of dropping off eggs with a touch, and
it’s bad. You gotta keep yourself clean of the
eggs, or they hatch and dig right in. Damn
hard to get out, too. I know you won’t
remember much of this when you go back to
the Wake, but if you remember one thing,
remember this: them that smell bad, they’ve
got the Boggin eggs all in ‘em and around
‘em. I know your nose is about as good as
your teeth, but even the dullest man can smell
a Boggin. You’ve just got to concentrate and
not ignore the warning signs.
Heh. That’s kind of funny. For all your lack of
skill in other areas, there’s one thing you men
are damn good at: ignoring things. You never
see anything you don’t want to see.
There’s a bit of sun on the horizon as we step
back into the house. The Boggins scatter under
the furniture when they see him, but he
doesn’t seem to notice.
It’s the Boggins that do that to you. Drinking
up your dreams. Soon, they get in there with
you. I see it all the time. Some man walking
around with his chin on his chest, walking like
he’s got no tomorrow, and he’s got Boggins
hanging on him like leeches, sucking and
sucking. I hate the sound of it. Yeah, I can
hear it. I hear it all the time. There’s Boggins
everywhere you look. Everywhere but where
there’s one of us, that is. There ain’t no
Boggins where there’s one of us, because we
kill ‘em, and we kill ‘em dead.
Now, us ruling the world is all well and good,
but there’s a catch. The one who wins has to
look out for the one who comes in last. We
won, you lost. You lost big time. You trim off
your claws, you dull down your teeth and you
don’t pay attention to anything that’s
important.
“You came all this way through Dream to tell
me about all this?”
“That was a secondary goal,” he tells me. “I
tell you about the Boggins every night.
Sometimes you remember, as best as a man
can, that is. Most of the time you don’t.”
“So,” I ask, giving my squirming couch the
evil eye. “What did you want to tell me?”
He looks up at me with his big green eyes.
“Not so much ‘tell’ you, as ‘ask’ you. See, I
need a favor.”
I looked over at the things staying far away
from me and my little friend, and I nod.
“What is it?”
That’s the difference between us and you. We
know Dream is the “real” world, and this, the
flesh and stuff, that’s nothing. We may be
small there, but in here, we got it all over you.
* * *
* * *
“If you’re doing such a good job, why are
there so many Boggins in my house?”
“When did you get all mean?” I ask him.
“You should have seen it before I got there,”
he tells me. The crystal ship lands on the
Moon and he starts chewing.
“Sorry. I get caught up in the bragging.” We’re
not in the sea of stars anymore, but we are on
a boat. The crew is all made of candy and
we’re sailing over soda pop.
Some Boggins you got to kill with teeth and
claws, but others are less tough and a whole
lot more stupid, and you can use tricks.
Sometimes they sneak into the house in
disguise. That’s the worst. Them we call
“changelings.” Most of the time, you can
smell a changeling right out, but other times,
they use Boggin tricks to sneak by you. Worst
kind is the ones posing as kids. Had to kill one
in the crib, once. That lost me my man. Nearly
lost me a life. His woman was one mean
woman, so covered in Boggins, you couldn’t
even see her face. Just her eyes, shining in
that bright light. I’ll never forget that.
* * *
“Something you can do that I can’t. And, after
seeing the Boggins, I hope it isn’t too much to
ask…”
“What?” he says, looking at me looking at
him. “You didn’t think we came all the way
up here because it’s made of rock and dust,
did you?”
“Don’t drink the water,” he tells me. Then, he
tells me more.
“Anything you want.”
He smiles and gives me a wink. “Glad you
said it that way.” Then, he walks away and
stops in front of that big tan litter box.
* * *
So, anyway, you all came in dead last. That
means you need protection. No, not from the
dogs. You need protection from the Boggins.
Yeah. Boggins. Monsters. Bogeymen. Those
things.
I know, you never seen them. You can’t. We
can. That’s where the protection comes in.
I pick up a hunk of it and give it a taste. Now,
I know why he wanted to come up here. I
chew and listen, and he does his best not to
talk with his mouth full.
* * *
There’s lots of kinds of Boggins, and if you’re
good, you know all kinds of different ways to
take care of ‘em. You know the saying,
“There’s more than one way to butcher a
Boggin.” But it’s dangerous work. Too many
Boggins, and even the best of us winds up
losing lives to ditch the bunch.
Boggins are bad. I mean real bad. They hook
into your soul with those barbs of theirs and
they hang on. They sink their teeth into you,
and they drink, and they drink. Worst part is,
you can’t see it. You can feel it, but you men
come up with fancy explanations for some
pretty simple stuff, all because you don’t want
to look at the truth. You wake up one morning
and you feel about as tall as a turnip and you
“Is that why you were in the adoption
agency?”
He nods. “Let’s not talk about that, okay?” We
catch a moonbeam back down to the street.
“See, I make sure you don’t have to worry
about the Boggins. I’ll take care of them. As
soon as we don’t have a Boggin problem
anymore, and I go somewhere else, and help
somebody who needs me.”
Yeah, I said lives. We won the contest, we get
nine of ‘em. Dogs say they get seven ‘cause
they came in second, but who believes what a
dog says? Now, go west – that’s right – for
6
7
C a t C h a r a c t e r s
1 : C a t C h a r a c t e r s
known for. Write “Best” in the Rank space
next to the Trait. Notice that under your Best
Trait is a space “Bonus.” Write 5 in that space.
Second, pick three other Traits that you like
more than the rest. These are your cat’s
S
TRONG
T
RAITS
. These Traits aren’t as good as
his Best Trait, but they’re better than average.
Write “Strong” in the Rank space next to these
Traits. Again, with each there is a space for
“Bonus.” Write 4 in this space for all your
S
TRONG
Traits.
Once you finish assigning your Traits, it’s
time to give your cat his names. As T.S. Eliot
suggested in his
Old Possum's Book of
Practical Cats
, cats have many names.
Cat
is a game for telling stories about cats
protecting people from Things they can’t see,
both in the real world and in the Kingdom of
Dreams.
M a k i n g a C a t C h a r a c t e r
Step 1: The Traits
A cat’s Traits represent his physical and
magical prowess. Each Trait is important to a
cat in specific ways. Your cat has a total of six
Traits. Let’s take a look at them and see how
they help your cat.
A cat’s
CLAWS
are important for fighting and
climbing.
Your cat has three names. His first name, or
given name, is the name men know him by.
His second name, or cat name, is the name
other cats, mostly trusted friends, know him
by. Finally, a cat has a secret name, one that
no-one knows, not even trusted friends. To
know a cat’s full name is a powerful secret,
one that opens up many forbidden magics. If a
Boggin ever discovered a cat’s secret name –
well, let’s just leave that thought alone.
Finally, all the other Traits on your Catsheet
are G
OOD
. These Traits are no better or worse
than any other cat’s Good Traits. Write
“Good” in the Rank space next to those Traits
and 3 under “Bonus” for all your G
OOD
Traits.
For example, look at the Catsheet on the next
page. This is Roland, my cat character.
Claws = Strong (4)
Coat = Best (5)
Face = Good (3)
Fangs = Good (3)
Legs = Strong (4)
Tail = Strong (4)
Roland’s B
EST
T
RAIT
is his C
OAT
, which helps
in his attempts to persuade other cats and
keeps him warm at night. His three S
TRONG
T
RAITS
are his C
LAWS
(for fighting and
climbing), his L
EGS
(for jumping, running and
balance) and his T
AIL
(useful for Magic, which
we’ll talk about in a minute).
As I do this, I write “5” for my Best Trait
(Coat), “4” for my three Strong Traits (Claws,
Legs and Tail) and “3” for the remaining two
Good Traits (Face and Fangs).
Step 2: Names
One for a secret, one for a riddle, name puss
twice and befuddle the devil.
Storytelling games are the oldest kind of
games in the world (despite what fans of
Go
think). People have been telling stories since
they first wondered what the stars were and
what made those scary sounds in the dark of
night.
Cat
is a game in the tradition of those
stories, where players explain just why cats
always jump at things that aren’t there, refuse
affection one moment, then rub up against
your hand the next, and otherwise act in
completely irrational ways. The easiest answer
to these questions is: cats see things we can’t.
A cat’s
COAT
shows off his colors and
protects him from claws and teeth and helps
him persuade others.
A cat’s
FACE
is his sensory center. It contains
his eyes, nose, ears, tongue and whiskers, all
of which help him sense the world.
W h a t Y o u N e e d
In order to play Cat, you need some pencils,
photocopies of the Catsheet, and a copy of this
book. One copy will do the trick, but the
Author encourages you to purchase as many
copies as you like, including copies you don’t
need, to share with friends.
A cat’s
FANGS
are important for fighting and
carrying things around.
A cat’s
LEGS
are used for jumping, balance
and other quick movements.
Step 3: Reputation
While Mr. Eliot knew about names, he failed
to learn from his feline friends that each cat
also has a number of titles, also known as
Reputations. A Reputation is something a cat
is known for, a particular skill, knack, or
quirk. If you’re good at catching rats, you
might have the Reputation “Rat-catcher.” If
you’re good at hiding, you may have the
Reputation “the Unseen.”
Like Traits, a cat’s Reputations have Bonuses.
Beginning cats (like yours) start with 7 points
of Reputations (and no beginning Reputation
should be higher than 3).
A cat’s
TAIL
is important for using Magic.
Before you play the game, you must first have
a cat character. Photocopy the Catsheet at the
end of this book for each player in the game.
Next, look at the sheet. You’ll see a list of
physical descriptions: Face, Tail, Legs, Claws,
etc. These are called “Traits,” and they
describe your cat’s abilities. Now, proceed
step-by-step below.
Picking Traits
Now you know what the Traits do, it is time to
figure out which Trait is his B
EST
T
RAIT
and
which of his Traits are his three S
TRONG
T
RAITS
. The remaining Traits you don’t make
his Best and Strong Traits are G
OOD
.
First, take a look at the Traits, and think about
which one is the most important to you. This
is your B
EST
T
RAIT
. This is your cat’s shining,
defining Trait, used for the actions he is
– Folk Saying
8
9
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