I was a bit surprised to find not many fictions about Pepe le pew, or Pucca, which I both adore very much (sigh).

On another note, the locations and references used in this book are real, and I've tried my best to pinpoint cities in Germany where this takes place. I also referenced clothes for the next chapter, Chinese style, though I know that the cartoon "Pucca" is actually from Korea. Sue me.

Rated T for, brief language (not much since I find swearheads distasteful), some drug usage (In the cartoon, Pepe actually smoked, so don't scoff at me), and some violence (knowing all too well that since there are ninjas in the plot, blood is uninvenitable). Other than that, none. And a little sorry for all perve writers out there. I cannot bring myself to bring any sexuality into my literature since it seems to make me sick and it's quite redundant. Though, there will be intimate moments. It probably could be rated K+, but I don't really care. I prefer to play it safe, you know?

Oh yeah, one more thing, illustrations shall be on my profile.

Enjoy.

---

'Oh please...'

A cat sat in a old wash bucket, filled to the brim with now freezing cold water. Clasped in her paws that had been pruned by how much time she had squatted in "Shampooing Félin", was a stiff scrub brush. As she dipped it into the suds, she scrubbed herself with such incredible vigorence and ferocity, one could marvel how her fur wasn't rubbed clean off.

She bit her lip nervously, once in a while she'd look up and peer around her shoulder, her bright yellow eyes wide and frightened. She was anxious, the poor little thing, she rightly deserved some mercy. She wasn't ready for love, or so in her opinion. The little black and white cat was a very fine gal indeed, and probably could have one the heart of any boy cat if she wanted. Though, she hardly thought of that now, she rather wished she looked ugly, ugly enough to repel even the most love crazy goon in the world.

Stepping from the bucket, dripping all over the concrete floor, she shook herself free of the lather. Trembling, she examined herself carefully, fingering through the suds in her fur. It was a few moments before she let out a tortured meow. The white stripe that had been splattered upon her back had stubbornly remained in plain sight. It had not faded nor worn in any way, and Penelope had tried every possible trick in the book to remove it. Even painting over it with black paint proved to be even more disastrous than just leaving it the way it was...

Wet and shivering, the cat skittered over to some blankets and buried herself in them.

'I'm not coming out until early morning.' she convinced silently herself as she wrapped herself up tight like a cocoon in that blue blanket. She made a great effort that not even a bit of her fluffy tail remained in sight.

'Oh Penelope, your getting much too old for this sort of thing...' she thought as she pulled the blanket over her head, so only perhaps the yellows of her eyes could just be seen as they peered nervously from the darkness. And, perhaps the tip of her nose and whiskers, which twitched nervously from time to time. They'd grown much sensitive, very sensitive as time went by. Most of it was to do of that, that appalling, sublime fragrance that chased her over mountains and deserts and oceans. It seemed to clear out her sinuses, inflame her delicate nasal so it picked up even the scent of a moth, so when it fluttered by she could tell each flower it had visited.

She had traveled here, rather, smuggled herself here, in this place, an old abandoned textile mill called Baumwollspinnerei Eilermark. No one would look for her there! She had thought triumphantly, and for once, she was quite right. The old factory had been closed around 1982, and in that time, nature had wrecked havoc on it's structure. With vines and weeds sealing shut most passage ways, the windows nailed closed and an erie silence enveloping the place. Penelope didn't care a lick.

She was Glanerbrug, just across the border into Germany. She knew this because she had traveled the Glanerbrug railroad tracks to get there. Not by train, oh much to risky, besides, the plantation had taken over the railroad. She ran, she ran and ran and ran until she thought that her lungs might shatter and pierce her heart and kill her. Though that didn't happen (though it certainly would have if she had kept at it) she found her salvation by squeezing under the rusted chain link fence and fleeing into the Van Heek Brothers sanctum.

Ignoring the closed doors, she had managed to squeeze herself in and hide herself in the darkest corner she could find in the huge place. There she stayed, only sneaking about when hunger brought her to catch mice that also made their home there. She'd lost much weight, and began to look more like an alley cat rather than the once pampered pet that had been long forgotten.

And there she shivered, in her blue blanket she had shamelessly snatched from a child's crib and shampoo she'd helplessly yoinked from some tourist's suitcase. She hardly remembered how she managed to get them, only that she had them now, but all in vain. Penelope scowled at the empty shampoo bottle, and then kicked it bitterly. It couldn't wash off that blasted white stripe, and so she was still not safe, no, not safe at all.

She wasn't just paranoid anymore, she was obsessed. Obsessed with hiding herself forever. She was just like the terror who chased her, who was, no doubt, obsessed with finding her, no matter WHERE she might be.

---

Garu didn't know where he was let alone where he should go. Well, he did know where he /should/ go, but undoubtedly wouldn't. The infirmary.

As the dark ninja proceeded down the railroad tracks in small, painful steps, he clutched at his bleeding wounds that showed through his torn shirt. Deep wounds, wounds that would seem hopeless to heal. Though, he wasn't going to be dragged into a hospital, even if he did knew where one was. He would not be made a fool of, not in front of everyone back in the village. Humiliation of his utter defeat was more than any type of embarrassment he could possibly take.

He failed, against Tobe. After all of those years fighting, Garu had finally been flung down. He would never rise again, never. His honor wouldn't allow that to happen. No, he just really needed to be by himself now, to accept his utter defeat.

His raven black hair was cut loose from the pigtails he usually bore on either side of his head. It hung lankly at a moderate length now, rugged and jagged where the blade of Tobe's sword had cut it loose. How humiliating it felt to wear it down like some yearlings mane and not up out of his face. Garu sighed heavily, it wasn't the least of his problems.

Forcing himself to look up ahead, he caught the forbidding shape of building looming over the trees and shrubbery that grew wild in his wake. He eyed it lazily, not daring to slow his rhythm of walk in fear it would bring him pain to change tempo in the way he moved.

A chain link fence slowly materialized before him as he approached, vines and thorns twisting themselves around the metal. He paused to regard it for a moment, then with a painful wince, he shunk down and slinked under it. He could've been mistaken as a stray dog, wandering aimlessly for a place to lay his tired head and rest his sore paws.

It was hard to think of that terrible laugh, so malicious and cruel, as he had felt the cold blade slash through his skin. He felt like a rag doll, being thrashed so violently by Tobe's swords and flying kicks. Garu had slacked, Tobe had practiced, this was the ultimate result. How could he have been so foolish hearted? What had happened that caused him to fail so miserably against his old foe? He couldn't figure it out...

"Your girlfriend isn't here to save you now." Tobe had growled low in his ear as Garu struggled to bring himself up from the muddy ground.

Making his way through the shrubbery, the ninja sighed wearily, staggering over plants and and overgrown weeds and grass as the ancient looking building drew ever closer. He regarded it quietly as he passed through it up close, his eyes flitting up the tall chimney and silo near an inlet between to buildings of the place. All overgrown, he didn't care, he could be alone with his thoughts.

Finding a small opening near the back, dragged himself inside. He didn't seem to care about the old crumbling walls, where paint peeled off in large flakes. The owner had once thought dark blue would be nice, the next person found white with army green much more cheerful. Garu stumbled over random objects as he tread through a red powdery substance that coated the ground. He was very suspicious it was a layer of rust.

Finding himself a corner, he sat down, bringing his knees up and embracing them. He allowed him mind to grow blank as he rested there, ignoring the pain that pulsed through him, he closed his eyes. He wished he had his erhu, the instrument he had an extraordinary gift to play.

A sudden chill raced up and down his spine. It was too cold for his taste, how the hell did he get here anywise? He knew he was somewhere in Germany, but no where did he have a clue in what part. He had lost himself in the epic fight that had occurred before his defeat, by now, a few nights ago. He and his rival ninja fought beneath the stars as their flurry of insults and attacks caused them to travel throughout the country. They ultimately took a tourguide throughout Asia and Europe, a rushed one at that. It had been one of the most furious epic battles Garu had gone through yet...

"Le-mew?"

His insides lurched as the ninja caught the faint noise of something else in the room. He wasn't alone! He was too tired to even flinch, but he dared to open one eye lazily and peer into the dimness.

There, staring back at him, a pair of bright yellow eyes on the other side of the room. He blinked, twice at that, knowing all too well that those eyes where feline. He knew because his own beloved black cat, Mio, came painfully to mind. As he stared, waiting for his own eyes to adjust to the dark, he saw that it was indeed a cat, but wrapped in a child's blanket.

What on earth...?

The cat glared at him with a timed fear and ravenous temper that he had never seen before in his life. Those wide eyes stared at him with such vivid and tension, as if awaiting him to pounce on her and terrorize her to pieces. A jolt of sympathy suddenly coursed through him... even though he was not in much better state himself, perhaps worse.

He clicked his tongue quietly, not moving from his spot (he didn't want to anyway, he was much too exhausted). She eyed him suspiciously, though she didn't take a step near him. Through and through, he came to see her face as she tilted her head sideways at him, she was black and white.

A warbled meow rose from the cat once again, she seemed to lean forward and sniff him timidly. He watched her, knowing all too well that he probably smelled like a slaughterhouse. He had blood on almost every inch of his skin, with sweat coat that had dried and gone sticky. He himself could smell the metallic stench rolling off of him, and since cats have sensitive noses, well...

Though, Garu was pleased to see that she didn't run off. She seemed to remind him so much of Mio, who he realized he missed terribly at the moment and would do just about anything to hold him and keep him warm in his lap. Or perched on his head, which was his ultimate favorite chair. The cat in front of him kept eyeing him, but she seemed to be calmer, knowing now that he was no threat. Garu couldn't help but ask himself what sort of feline acted so unsure of herself? Yet, he dismissed the thought shortly after.

He watched her for a moment more, then felt his eyes grow heavy, and soon the world around him faded to sleep.