A Chance of Slice of Life in Muncie

Chapter 1: Adventure Calendar

The old boxy TV still sat on its dusty wooden cabinet, a soft jingle of bells came from the mistletoe that lined the screen's edges marked the beginning of an internal product advertisement, that set off the end of the broadcast.

"Oh, that seems we're almost out of time, so before you go, I want to remind you of what you and your pet need for this Christmas" the mostly bald man walked from his chair revealing more of his burgundy suit. It was mixed in color, the lapels white with several small green wreaths upon it. his button up shirt being patterned with red white and green diagonal lines, the cuffs of his trousers and blazer having candy canes on them.

"The thing you need for your cat this Christmas, more than a firm cardboard box or a scratching post though I'm sure they'd delight in Christmas joy-" he chuckled as he brought up a box "is Kibbly Kat, Christmas Delight. The ultimate festive treat for your feline friend." Said Happy Chapman through the soft crackling television speaker, frazzling lightly as it held this short moment longer than intended...

"Isn't that right Mr. Persnikitty" an assistant, a young woman dressed as an elf with blonde hair, the exact spitting image of the love interest in the movie Elf brought the cat to Happy's arms and he cradled it.

"Well that's all we have time for and remember, be Happy." The two waved to the screen as it transitioned away the boughs of holly that danced on the edges still softly jingling and clattering golden sparks too disappeared. Before without a second moment an explosion made Garfield jump in his olive chair as the screen eluded to the next showing of Die Hard, it's title engulfed in flames and the length of the 'i' turned into the shadowy visage of a skyscraper.

"Join Mr John McClane, a police officer on his way home for Christmas to deal with his fracturing family ties, comes to find that his family is in danger not from his own brooding distance but from Hans Gruber the ultimate intelligent terrorist and his attack of the Nakatomi Tower he must survive the relentless Christmas operation of Gruber's soldiers and save his family. And be sure to live on and not... Die Hard!" The advertisement bombastic in its presentation, the voice of it's panning frames and small flourishes of action full of fervor, to impassion the viewer to its dramatic licence. Garfield though was unphased.

"I hate Monday programming." The tabby orange cat spoke to himself aloud as he pounced off the chair, the chair lightly rocked with the strike of his feet during his jump away from the next painful Christmas programme. Garfield had about as much to do with Christmas as Die Hard. The only thing he would stand is Happy Chapman's awkward forced grin as he met with Santa Claus in this year's Christmas skit.

"Jon." Yowled Garfield as he pattered about the wooden floor.

"Where is my lasagna calendar when I need it, I've been spooked by these strange programs." Garfield bemoaned as he came into Jon's messy bedroom, which had no Jon. He went to the living room again just to check he hadn't skulked to Garfield/Jon's chair, he had not. He went to the dining room to see his calendar sitting high atop the many levels of cabinet, but no Jon to retrieve it. Garfield looked down on himself and then to the calendar and then to the window, then to the floor and the other planks stacked with photos and food items.

"Risk, reward, seems equal." He spoke as he scampered up a chair barring his claws to the far most back leg to scale it. He then jumped to the table with its square red and white cloth. And looked to the kitchen bench side and its sloppy marble before taking a step back and with a yelp jumped catching it well.

"And some say I'm just a fat cat." He complimented is agility as he looked above to the rows of cabinet door and wooden shelves, that he sighed in awe of them. He walked along the counter trying to find an ideal spot and looked to the window again. It's small cantilever of frame, being a possible landing zone for Garfield. But it would be tight. He snorted as his whiskers furrowed and he began to run on the counter its sloppiness making each faster speed perilous before he began to glide through the air.