Author's Note: This is my attempt at First-person. It is also my explanation for the Misto/Quaxo deal and my reason for why Misto doesn't sing his own song. I still prefer him being just plain old Misto. Please imagine them as Jellicles, but they have school. They don't wear clothing.

And, please don't think I'm insensitive towards people who stutter, one of my good friends stutters pretty badly, and my sister (one of them) has a speech impediment.

A Two For One Deal

The Fourth fanfic my Mistoffelees fan-kit!

Is first-person! WOOT

~~~Mistoffelees~~~

I hurt. So bad. He wouldn't go away!

"Momma!" I mewled, crying as the voice came back, "Help!" Momma rushed over to me, her face looked so sad, just like mine probably did.

"What's the matter, Mistoffelees?" She picked me up, soothing me with her words, "What's wrong with my baby?"

"He won't go away!" I mewed, "Make him stop it!" Momma looked around nervously. I sucked on her paw quietly, ignoring my head hurting.

"Make who stop what?"

"There's a kitty in my head! He says he wants to talk to you!" I let go of her paw. She looked nervous again. That scared me a lot.

"Was it daddy?" Momma brushed my headfur. I smiled; that made the hurting go away. But it came back and I cried out.

"No. It wasn't daddy. He says you're his momma, too!" I buried my face in her fur, and I got it all wet because of my tears, "But you're only my momma, right?"

"Yes, sweetie. Why does he want to talk to me?"

"He wants a name!" I forced out. The kitty in my head wouldn't go, even though I told Momma what he wanted. He made my head hurt, I didn't like him one little bit.

"He wants a name?" She looked even more scared now.

"Momma, just give him a name!" I shouted suddenly in my tiny kitten-voice. He was pounding on my skull. Momma set me gently on my mat of shredded cloth scraps.

"What sort of name does he want?" Momma asked gently, leaning down on one knee.

"He says for me to show you him first." I looked at her through my tear-filled eyes. She nodded slowly.

Momma says I have to show you to her. I whimpered to the voice Momma couldn't hear.

Told you so! It mewed in a voice similar to mine. I flinched; that voice was loud! Suddenly, I felt funny, Momma gasped. I looked at my paws. One was turning white! My tail-tip had gone white, and so had my legs! My vision got blurry, and I couldn't really see Momma anymore.

And that's how I met Quaxo.

~~~Quaxo~~~

I could see better when Mistoffelees let me out. It made me happy to be able to talk.

"Mistoffelees?" Momma said, "What's been done to you?"

"Nothing!" I mewed indignantly, "My name's not Misto-fleas! I don't have a name yet." I climbed out of the bed-nest and rolled onto the floor. Momma laughed and scooped me up, but she still looked sad.

"What do you want your name to be?"

"I want you to tell me!" I squeaked. Momma gave me a funny look, like she could see inside of me.

"How about... Quaxo?" She said, after sitting there for forever.

"I like it!" I purred, testing how my voice worked.

"You're certainly nothing like your... brother." She said quietly.

"Who's that?" I looked around, but no other kitten was there.

"Mistoffelees."

"Oh. Misto-fleas is my brother?" I was happier that I might have a playmate, but I didn't ever really like Mistoffelees. At all.

"Yes. Now go to sleep." I nodded quietly as she put me back down onto the mat. Just before I closed my eyes, I swear I saw Momma crying.

~~~12Years Later (That makes them 16)~~~

~~~Mistoffelees~~~

I opened my eyes. For once, I actually woke up in my side of the den. Quaxo had dozed off at a party, which left me in charge of getting our drunken body home safely. I've asked him to quit partying on school nights, but he ignores me. Every time. I've asked him to at least quit drinking the alcohol they somehow find at the parties. But still, he won't listen to me, the broken record.

If I haven't mentioned it already, I have a horrible stutter. I developed it almost immediately after I regained control over myself after Quaxo made his first appearance. My mother (No, I don't call her Momma anymore) took me to see Jellylorum, who said that I had been traumatized and would probably lose the stutter in a few weeks, along with my alter-ego. I refuse to call him my brother.

It's been twelve years. Quaxo's still here, and I still stutter. But, look on the bright side, Quaxo was three sheets to the wind last night – I would know, I felt the immediate aftereffects – so he probably won't be up for quite a while.

I quit staring at the roof of the den and got up, looking around our room. Half of it is mine, filled with books and notes, and the other half is Quaxo's. On his side of the room, every inch of the den is plastered with pictures of his girlfriend, Jemima. It's obsessive, how much he thinks about her. I walked to the entrance to the rest of my family's den.

"M-m-mom?" I called out, grimacing at the way the words broke up in my mouth, "Are y-y-you up yet-t-t?"

"Yes, dear." She replied, walking out of her area of the den, "How did you sleep?"

"Fine." I kept my responses short, hating the sound of stuttering. I walked over to my bag of schoolwork and slung it over my shoulder.

"You need to eat something." She scolded, "It helps kittens concentrate in class." She held a dead mouse out to me.

"I'll b-b-b-be f-f-fine, Mom." I meowed, but grabbed the mouse anyway. I was about to head out of the den, when she grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

"Just make sure you get here – as yourself – so I can give Quaxo the talking-to he needs."

"Sure." I agreed, then walked outside, squinting in the sunlight. I nodded at Tumblebrutus as he walked by, and got a small smile in return.

I headed to my best friends' house. They're twins, with psychic powers, and they have a rather... odd way of talking. It's not as bad as my stuttering, but it creeps people out.

I was about to knock on their door, when it swung open. Tantomile – the queen twin – looked outside and smiled when she saw me.

"You're -"

"- Early." Coricopat finished, stepping out from behind his sister.

"And t-t-t-t-that's a bad t-t-t-thing?" I asked. T's are the hardest for me to get out, and then S's.

"No, it's -"

" - Absolutely fine with-"

" - Us."

"Good. T-t-then, let-t-t-t's get g-going." I said. They walked to school with me every day. No other cat really liked to hang out with us. Quaxo's got a lot of friends, but they're wary of him, too. They think he'll suddenly turn into me. That has happened, and vice-versa, at least six times, now.

The school's pretty close to Coricopat and Tantomile's den, so it's not really a long walk. That's for the best, I suppose, then there's less of a chance that we'll get stared at.

"We found some stuff-" Coricopat meowed, brandishing a think pack of papers underneath my nose.

" - On your condition, and why you have it." Tantomile finished, going through the papers in her brother's paw, "Here." She thrust a paper underneath my nose, "We copied this from a book that we found in the library."

Magicians and Twins

Magicians are extremely powerful beings. Oftentimes, they cannot control their powers. Which is why all magicians born have a twin that the powers are shared with. If they don't, they may be consumed by the power. There is another option, however. They may develop an alter-ego of sorts.

Alter-egos in Magicians

When a magician develops an alternate personality, the original personality loses some traits, and gains others. The alternate personality may take a different form, while sharing the same body, or look exactly like the other magician. They are considered to be two different entities who happen to share the same body. It can have devastating effects on a magician who has grown up without the alternate personality, then suddenly develops it. But, it is very rare for this to happen.

"That's what we think-" Coricopat pointed to the part about alternate personalities.

"-Happened to you." The twins started walking again. I ran to catch up with them,

"T-t-t-they forgot-t-t-t to ment-t-t-ion how ann-n-noying alter-egos c-c-can be." I muttered, thinking of all the times Quaxo had gotten into trouble, then forced me to come out and save our tail. He never learned.

"Tantomile's not exactly my first choice to hang out with." Coricopat snickered, then dodged Tantomile's paw.

"And you're not perfect, either!" She retorted. I stepped in between them without a word. I kept them from hitting each other, but they still glared over my head. I'm the shortest tom in the entire Junkyard. Well, Quaxo's my height, too, but he makes up for it by being a comedian.

"C-c-come on g-guys, let-t-t-t's just get-t-t to class-s-s." I dragged them to the classroom, "You d-don't-t want t-t-to be l-l-late, right?"

"Fine." They muttered in unison.

They walked the last few steps to the only classroom we have, and opened the door. I followed them in, ignoring the usual snickers and whispers as I walked to my seat at the front of the class. I had to sit there so that Jennyanydots – our teacher – can make sure that Quaxo stays in line.

The Gumbie Cat pulled a piece of paper out of a hole in the wall that she used as her storage area and started checking off names.

"Alonzo?"

"I died."

"Very funny. Cassandra?"

"Present."

"Coricopat, Tantomile?"

"We're here."

"Bombalurina?"

"Here."

"Rum Tum Tugger?"

"He's skipping."

"Wonderful. Tumblebrutus?"

"I'm here, but Pouncival's sick."

"Okay. Exotica?"

"Right here."

"Plato?"

"He's sick, too."

"Victoria?"

"I'm here."

"Jemima?"

"Present."

"Electra, Etcetera?"

"I'm here, but Etcetera's skipping with Tugger."

"Mungojerrie, Rumpleteaser?"

"We're 'ere, Miss."

"Mistoffelees? Or is it Quaxo today?"

"I'm M-M-Mistoffelees t-t-t-t-t-today, m-ma'am" I stuttered as quickly as I could.

"Good, your brother is a horrible distraction to the class."

"I k-k-know, ma'am." The were snickers and whispers of "teacher's pet!" and "Suck up!" I ignored them as best I could.

~~~Almost the end of the school day~~~

Most of my day passed in a blur. The math test, the science pop-quiz, the extra homework in geography, I didn't really pay any attention to it.

I was standing, my back to the classroom, getting my books packed back up, when a cat pushed me into a wall.

"Get-t-t-t off!" I yowled, then I shut my mouth when I noticed that a queen had run into me by accident.

"I'm sorry, Quaxo." Victoria meowed, stooping down to grab my books.

"I-t-t-t's Mis-s-st-t-t-offelees." I replied, a hint of annoyance worsening my stutter.

"Oh! I'm so embarrassed." She stuck my books back into my arms, and I almost dropped them again. Bast, she was beautiful.

"T-that-t's okay."

"Um, would you mind helping me study? Quaxo said it was all right." She brushed a stray strand of fur back behind her ear.

"Sure." For once, I didn't mind my alter-ego telling people what I would and wouldn't do.

Author's note: Tell me if I suck at first-person.