Story 20: Reza Shadey meets Felix the Fox
One crisp autumn evening, from the shadows of the neighbouring garden, a pair of amber eyes watched Mrs Higgins's patio with great interest. They belonged to Felix, a fox whose cunning was as sharp as his teeth. He wasn't watching the birds or the butterflies. He was studying the local cats: a sensible white one, a sleepy orange one, a bouncy stripy one, and their magnificent, puffed-up leader, Reza Shadey.
"Perfect", Felix thought, a sly grin spreading across his face. "A ready-made team of chaos agents. And their leader looks just arrogant enough to fall for anything." With a graceful leap, he landed silently on the lawn.
"Greetings, Your Majesty!" Felix purred, bowing so low his nose almost touched his paws. "I am but a humble admirer who has travelled far, drawn by tales of your legendary intellect."
Reza, who had been contemplating the strategic importance of his own tail, puffed out his chest. "Finally, some proper recognition", he thought. "Welcome to my kingdom. State your business."
Felix's eyes twinkled. "I have discovered a feast of unimaginable splendour in the old orchard! Chicken, salmon, even cream pastries! But alas, it is guarded by a grumpy old owl who only sleeps at the stroke of midnight. It is a task that requires not just bravery, but a mastermind of unparalleled genius to lead the operation."
Reza's whiskers twitched. Pastries! Glory! A chance to prove his superiority! "Say no more!" he declared. "I shall lead this expedition. The feast will be mine... I mean, ours." He conveniently decided that after the heist, he would claim ninety percent of the loot as a "leadership fee". The rest could fight over the crumbs.
He immediately summoned his team. "Penelope, my dear, your sharp eyes are essential. You shall be our lookout! Perch in the highest branch and watch for the slightest twitch of an owl feather." Penelope sighed. It sounded important, but also a bit draughty.
"Ginger Tom!" Reza continued. "You are in charge of reconnaissance. Your mission is to secure the perimeter and report back on any... unattended biscuits you may find. A vital role!" Tom nodded, already scanning the ground for potential snacks.
"Tiger!" he finished. "You shall be our Director of Diversions! Should the owl awaken, you must create a subtle, yet captivating, distraction. Perhaps chase your tail with dramatic flair?" Tiger bounced, thrilled. "A super-secret spy mission!"
Reza turned to Felix with a smug smirk. "And you, my foxy friend, will have the honour of assisting me, the mastermind, in the final retrieval of the goods." Felix just nodded, his grin hidden in the shadows.
At the stroke of midnight, the heist began. Penelope found a surprisingly comfortable branch and promptly fell into a light, lookout-themed nap. Ginger Tom's reconnaissance mission led him to a discarded bag of crisps, which required his immediate and full attention. "Crunch, crunch!"
Tiger, poised for his diversion, clutched a shiny bottle top, vibrating with suppressed energy. Reza and Felix crept towards the feast, which was laid out temptingly on a picnic blanket. Just as Reza was about to make his move, Felix let out a tiny, theatrical gasp and gave a nearby pile of dry leaves a gentle nudge with his paw. "CRUNCH!"
The owl's eyes snapped open, two yellow lamps in the darkness. "WHOOOO GOES THERE?" it hooted angrily.
Chaos! Penelope jolted awake and nearly fell out of the tree. Tom dropped his crisps and dived headfirst into a muddy puddle. "Splat!" Tiger, remembering his duty, began chasing his tail so furiously he spun into a wheelbarrow. "Clang!" The owl swooped down, and Reza let out a terrified "YOWL!", scrambling up the nearest apple tree, his magnificent fur puffed up like a startled dandelion.
While the cats flailed and screeched, creating the perfect noisy distraction, Felix slipped silently around the other side of the tree. With swift, expert paws, he gathered the chicken, the salmon, and all the cream pastries, vanishing into the night like a russet ghost.
When Reza finally dared to peek down, the garden was quiet. The owl was gone, his friends were covered in mud and confusion, and the feast had vanished. At the base of the tree, a single, gnawed fishbone lay next to a message scratched neatly into the bark: "Thank you for the distraction. The pastries were divine. - F."
Reza slunk down the tree, his fur drooping, his ego in tatters. "Outsmarted? Me? By a... a common vulpine trickster?!"
Back in their own garden, Penelope couldn't help but giggle. "Oh, Rezzi. It seems you've been thoroughly outfoxed!" Ginger Tom, still muddy, purred contentedly. "At least I found some crisps." Tiger, ever optimistic, offered Reza a slightly squashed biscuit he'd found in his fur. "Munch!"
Reza nibbled it grumpily, muttering, "It was a tactical miscalculation... the owl was more alert than anticipated." But his green eyes twinkled with a new, grudging respect. And already, his magnificent mind was whirring, plotting a rematch.
From the shadows beyond the fence, a soft chuckle echoed on the autumn wind.
Night night. Sleep tight.