Hairy Cats

By Rich Cole

Feline fever swept across the nation like a wildfire. Everyone wanted to see the Hairy Cats live. Everyone bought their albums. And for the four members of the all-girl punk band, life was a dream. They were more successful than they could have ever imagined. But unfortunately, nobody could have predicted the terrifying events of their very first European tour.
Valerie has been putting up with her band-mates ever since their first full-length album dropped and the other girls got a taste of fame and fortune. Now, she'll have to work together with them to unravel the shady dealings of their manager, Richard Geaxinue. And they need to hurry, because they're on a tight deadline. One that could end their hot new career for good.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223229490

Book preview

Chapter 1

Introduction to the Cats

Maria dove into the corner of the stage, narrowly avoiding the slashing machete blade of her attacker. She felt the wind from the razor edge caress her face, the deadly weapon mere inches from cutting into her nose. She rolled away like a fighter jet in a dogfight, then lithely rose to her feet. The masked assailant took one lumbering step towards her, his machete raised high in the air. In the same instant, Maria leaped at him with the force of a jungle puma, her leg raised high. She sailed through the damp air as though she had wings. Her flawless kung fu kick found its target, landing squarely on the jaw of the would-be murderer. His hockey mask cracked under the strain, and he was knocked off of his feet. The monster’s oversized body slammed into the hardwood of the stage with a resounding thump, the impact rattling the foundations of the stage. Of course, no one heard the sound of his body hitting the ground. At the exact moment he landed, there was a deafening crash of cymbals accompanied by a wall of electric guitar chords.

The crowd screamed as Maria shoved her fist in the air triumphantly, her microphone raised high. They loved it! This was the best performance many of the assembled patrons had ever seen, and as Maria launched into the final chorus of their show-stopping grand finale, there wasn’t a single audience member who didn’t sing along.

Hairy Cats was quickly rising to the top of the charts. Their punk rock power chords combined with theatrical on-stage performances was becoming a hit. The band had previously been four nobodies practicing in one of the member’s studio apartments, but had quickly begun their climb to fame after reportedly blowing their last dollar on one such performance. After that, their ticket sales began to skyrocket. Now here they were, playing their very first sold out show in London, and it was clearly a huge success. The audience was roaring.

The band finished up their set and took a bow, along with the masked murderer and the other cast members that had acted as a part of the show that evening. The crowd whistled and screamed and applauded, 3,000 people on their feet at once, as the team exited the stage. Some filed towards the bathroom to wash fake blood or vomit off of their costumes, while most of them went towards the dressing rooms.

Another venue rocked, Maria said smugly as she sat down in a makeup chair that had her name printed on it in flowing gold cursive. Those Brits were practically salivating over us.

Give it a rest, Maria, said Valerie. In contrast to Maria’s long legs and curly blond hair, Valerie was short and petite. She stood at 5’2 and no greater, her midnight hair cascading over her small shoulders like a waterfall of shadow. Nobody’s salivating over us. They come to see the show and hear the music.

Honestly, Val, if you think that every man out there isn’t leering at us while we strut around on stage every night, then maybe you should take a look at how many posters we sell versus how many albums.

Maria had an innate knack for infuriating Val. Waves of rage radiated off of Valerie’s body, her anger almost visible in the phosphorescent lights from the makeup mirrors. She opened her mouth wide, no doubt to launch into a string of obscenities that would embarrass a sailor, but was cut short by one of the other girls.

Now, now, let’s not fight ladies, Candace cooed, her gaze barely leaving the mirror in front of her. We’ve just had our best show yet. We should be celebrating! Let’s build each other up, not tear each other down!

Candace was the dictionary definition of a hypocrite. She acted like she was higher and mightier than the other girls, often treating them like she was their leader. Or maybe their mother, for that matter. When it came to somebody messing with her, however, she became more vicious than any of the others. Unlike Maria, Candace’s blond hair came out of a bottle, her brown roots showing through the part that traversed the center of her head, right underneath where she imagined her halo hovered.

Give it a rest, Candace, Maria and Valerie said in unison. They were well accustomed to Candace’s self-righteousness.

Candace responded with an offended gasp of faux surprise. Not two seconds later she was already admiring her reflection in the mirror again. Her hair had to be in a constant state of euphoric fluffiness, lest the entire world explode in a fiery display of horrid grandeur.

Before any of the three girls could snap at each other again, the door to the dressing rooms burst open without so much as a courteous knock. Their manager strode into the room, his face alight with a crooked grin.

Girls, what a performance tonight! You really had everyone in the audience drooling over you!

Maria shot Valerie a pointed look, which was returned with just as much venom.

As a matter of fact, I found myself salivating when Candace and Maria started punching each other in the boobs!

Richard Geauxinue (pronounced goes-in-you) was not a classy man. He was balding, overweight, and constantly eating. There were always leftover food particles somewhere on his saggy face, and his beady eyes looked increasingly smaller as the fat on his face grew. He was known in the music industry for being sleazy, and no one knew that better than the four members of his prominent female show group. They had grown used to daily objectification by him, but that didn’t stop them from exacting their revenge through passive aggressive comments or the occasional piss in his bed sheets. Still, he never missed an opportunity to barge into their dressing rooms after every show. It was always under the pretext of congratulating them on a job well done, another great show in the record books. Of course, the actual reason was a not-so-hidden hope that he might catch one of the girls naked. This had never happened, but Dick was a very hopeful sex addict.

Dick chuckled at the memory of the two girls’ onstage antics. Then he released a long sigh that was somehow just as sleazy as his admission of lust, and said, Anyways, it was a great show. Get cleaned up and get some rest. We leave for Sweden first thing in the morning!

Then he paused, and surveyed the whole room and its occupants. Wait a minute, where’s Nichole?

She must be taking a shit, Candace said, a smug grin on her blush-covered face. Just follow the smell of rat poop and you’ll catch up to her eventually.

Valerie’s rage finally boiled over. Speaking of poop, I’ve been wondering Candace. How do you take a shit? Do you take the stick out of your ass first or do you just push it out around the stick?

As the girls finally regressed into furious yelling, all pretense of subtle insults abandoned, Richard laughed out loud. He left the room whistling, his easy stride carrying him off towards a waiting Uber driver who would take him to his hotel. He wasn’t particularly worried about the girls actually hurting each other. They may hate each other’s guts, but they knew that their faces were the moneymakers. They wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their onstage presence. Besides, he had more important matters to attend to.

The Plaza Hotel, driver, he said as he climbed into the back of a 1997 Buick LeSabre. The rickety old car sputtered and coughed, before finally finding the strength to pull away from the curb and out into the night.

Richard continued to fantasize about seeing all four girls naked as he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of his accountant. The not-so-esteemed manager rarely thought about anything other than women or sex, but one of the few things he did think of almost as often was money. In Richard’s mind, they were practically the same thing. If you had lots of money, you often had lots of women. Women loved money, so naturally they practically fell over themselves trying to catch a man who had wealth, and they would do just about anything to keep that kind of man happy and satisfied. This of course appealed greatly to Richard, so even when he thought about getting rich, it was still inextricably linked to his various fantasies of being surrounded by nude women.

However, recently he had discovered something that he had never before considered. He had found that while, yes, of course if you had lots of money you could have lots of women, but actually, the reverse was also true. If a person had sexy women, then he could certainly obtain lots of money. That had been fresh on his mind when he had decided to stop representing male rock groups, in favor of female punk bands instead. That was several years ago, and he had since earned a reputation for managing girl groups. With Maria, Candace, Valerie and Nichole, however, he had finally made it to the big leagues. These girls started out as nobodies, but in the past year, they had risen to new heights of fame. When no one else had seen their potential, Richard had, and now they were getting ready to play multiple shows in Europe. Multiple! He was beside himself. Hairy Cats was a goldmine, and he was certainly willing to get down and dirty in those caves.

Hey Dick. How was the show?

Just fine, Marvin, thanks, Richard answered. He knew he had probably woken the accountant, as it was the middle of the night. Time was money, however, and few understood that better than an accountant. Marvin was often woken by Richard, but he never complained. There were more pressing matters to attend to than a full night’s sleep.

So, how are we looking?

Never one for pleasantries, are you Richard? Marvin asked.

Not when we’re in the middle of an important project, the manager responded irritably. Now, are you going to answer my question?

We’re doing just fine, Marvin grumbled. Everything is in place. We are ready to commence with the operation.

Excellent, Richard replied gleefully. The girls and I are on the next flight to Sweden tomorrow morning. We’ll meet you there, and you and I will settle our last account before moving forward with the project.

Great, Marvin said. Is there anything else you need from me?

Not at the moment, no. The satisfaction in Richard’s voice almost made Marvin puke. He knew the disgusting man loved power, so calling him in the middle of the night was an assertion of dominance. It was intended to make sure that Marvin knew who was in charge, and he didn’t appreciate it at all. Still, he hadn’t ever complained, because in fact, he did know who was in charge. And he was content to cede that control until they completed their project. After that, he didn’t plan to be anyone’s accountant ever again.

Then I’ll be off back to bed. Have a goodnight, Richard.

You too, Marvin. Get some good sleep. We’ve got a big weekend ahead of us.

With that, Richard hung up the phone and slouched further down in the backseat of the car. A deep exhalation escaped his sticky mouth. Everything was in place and ready to go. Soon he would be a very rich man. And then he would have all the girls that he could ever want.

Oh, damn! What is that sleazy manager up to? Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good to me! Those girls better watch their asses, because that fat pervert is coming after those cheeks! Now, you may be asking yourself, who the flippity flap is this dude? My name is DJ JJ and this is your easy afternoon listening on 267.2 AM, WASD radio!