The True Tail of The Terror of the Thames (Reader Friendly Version)

Note: all changes are in bold print; it's just to make it easier to read. Although, I have to say the story's not nearly as interesting with out Growltiger's pirate accent.

As the winter snow melted, to be replaced by fresh green grasses and patches of flowers, life in the Jellicle Junkyard carried on normally. The elder cats complained about everything, the younger cats were always getting into mischief, and the kittens got in everycats way.

One lazy afternoon, when the sun was high in the sky, all the Jellicles laid around the Junkyard warming their fur. Even Munkustrap took a break from his extremely busy schedule to nap with the others.

Just when the Jellicles thought it was going to be one of 'those' days, something unexpected happened. A scraggly old cat hobbled though the Junkyard entrance and into the main clearing. A few Jellicles twitched their whiskers and flicked their ears in interest. Munkustrap rolled over, instantly alert, and pushed himself to his paws.

As the self-proclaimed Jellicle Protector neared the unexpected visitor, he was most surprised by what he saw. At first he thought the tom walked with a limp; the idea was quickly shot down as Munku realized the reason for the stranger's unusual gait. The old tom was missing his back right leg!

His ears were in tatters, he was blind in one eye, and his muzzle was lined with scars that crisscrossed so regularly you could not tell where one stopped and the other one began. His fur was so dirty that Munkustrap could not tell what color it was supposed to be, and his smell was so unbearable that it made Munku's eyes water. His coat had obviously felt the scratch of a tongue in many moons; it was full of fleas. And probably ticks and mites as well, eesh. Munku cringed away.

"Scared of an old washed up has-been, are you?" he meowed gruffly, in a voice rough and scratchy with age and disuse.

Munkustrap puffed himself up and gave the old tom a look of disdain.

"Welcome to the Jellicle Junkyard." He meowed with forced politeness, "How can we help you?"

The old tom laughed roughly, the kind of laugh that ends with a wracking cough, and gave Munku a wistful look.

"A place to sleep a while would be nice." He meowed finally.

Munkustrap eyes the old tom curiously and then nodded, "I'll find you a spare nest."

While Munku and Skimbleshanks sorted out clean bedding for a nest, Jenny and Jelly went to inspect the new arrival.

"This really won't do at all." Jelly fretted.

"Wha'?" The old tom meowed.

"You're filthy!" Jenny exclaimed, "When's the last time you've had a good wash."

"Neh, I dunno." The tom turned pointedly away.

The tom complained loudly as Jenny and Jelly washed him over with plenty of water followed by intense licking; All the kittens giggled as they watched.

When Jenny and Jelly were done, the tom flopped tiredly onto his newly made nest. Munkustrap could now see that the old tom's fur was violently striped with a dull black and a deep sun-burnt orange; a dash of yellow here, and a splotch of white there.

Munkustrap had strategically placed the old toms nest in full view of his own, lest the stranger should cause mischief. As, Munku laid down to sleep, he kept one eye trained on the old cat.

Tumblebrutus, a clumsy brown and white kitten, padded over to the old tom and laid a rat at his paws. The old tom flicked his ears in thanks and devoured his dinner in one crunch of his still-powerful jaws. Tumble bowed respectively before scampering off to eat his own dinner, tripping over his own paws on the way there, per usual.

Over the next few days the strange old cat did little more than eat and sleep. Most cats warily steered clear of him, though the kittens were curious.

Etcetera and Plato dared each other to sneak up and touch the old cat before swiftly running away, but the behavior ceased immediately at a stern word from their father, Skimbleshanks.

Victoria, Munkustrap's daughter, was the most social of all the cats even though she was merely a kitten. One could often find her sniffing around the old cats nest and even asking him questions.

One particular afternoon, Vicky padded over to his den with a fresh mouse; she laid it down, and began poking her nose around the outside of his nest. To the old tom's surprise she wasn't the least bit startled when he all of a sudden meowed, "What do you want, love?"

Vicky smiled at him brightly and giggled at his strange accent. The old tom narrowed his eyes slightly and gave her a curious look; he obviously wasn't used to being laughed at.

"All the other kittens call you Mr. Grumpy." She informed him, "But I don't think that that's a proper name at all. I'm Vicky by the way, Victoria really, what's your name?"

"I don't have a name." he replied gruffly.

"Sure you do; Everycat has a name." Vicky meowed.

By this time her twin brother, Quaxo, had noticed the two of them talking and padded over to join them.

"When you live on the streets, you've no need of a name." the old tom answered wearily; kittens and their questions stressed him out.

"You're not living on the streets now." Quaxo pointed out.

"No, I suppose not."

Upon seeing Vicky and Quaxo chatting with Mr. Grumpy, the other kittens dashed over to join them.

Across the clearing, Jenny and Jelly noticed the kittens ganging up on the poor old cat while he was trying to have a rest. And since he was looking crowded and rather harassed they decided to intercede.

However, when the reached the group they found a surprise. All of the kittens were sitting quietly and listening to the old tom attentively; Jenny and Jelly sat near the back of the group.

"Am I right in supposing that you've all heard the tale of Growltiger?" the old tom meowed. All of the kits nodded vigorously; even Tumble, who hardly ever sat still or listened properly.

"Growltiger was a Bravo catwho traveled on a barge." Vicky meowed.

"Lived on a barge, yes." The old tom meowed, "In fact he was the roughest cat that ever roamed at large."

"From Gravesend up to Oxford he pursued his evil aims," Jemima recited, "Rejoicing in his title of…of…"

" 'The Terror of the Thames.' " the old tom supplied.

"His manners and appearance did not calculate to please." Jelly meowed, turning up her nose.

"His coat was torn and seedy, he was baggy at the knees." Jenny added.

"One ear was somewhat missing, no need to tell you why, And he scowled upon a hostile world from one forbidding eye." Coricopat meowed, rather creepily; no cat had noticed him or his sister Tantomile join the group, but there they were at the back of the ever-growing group.

After that, more Jellicles began to join the group: Skimbleshanks, Bustopher Jones, Alonzo, Mungojerrie, Rumpelteazer, The Rum Tum Tugger, Cassandra, Exotica, Bombalurina, Demeter, and Munkustrap all joined the ring around the old tom. In fact, the only cat not present was the Jellicle leader and prophet, Old Deuteronomy.

"The cottagers of Rotherhithe knew something of his fame," Skimbleshanks recalled, "At Hammersmith and Putney people shuddered at his name."

"They would fortify the hen-house," Electra sang.

"Lock up the silly goose." Her friend Etcetera added, "When the rumor ran along the shore;"

"GROWLTIGER'S ON THE LOOSE!" all the kittens yowled together.

"Woe to the weak canary, that fluttered from its cage." Alonzo meowed.

"Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that faced Growltiger's rage." Admetus chorused.

"Woe to the bristly Bandicoot, that lurks on foreign ships," Mungojerrie meowed.

"And woe to any Cat with whom Growltiger came to grips!" Pouncival exclaimed.

"But most to Cats of foreign race his hatred had been vowed." Quaxo meowed, "To Cats of foreign name and race no quarter was allowed."

"The Persian and the Siamese regarded him with fear—" Cassandra meowed.

"Because it was a Siamese had mauled his missing ear." Cassandra's daughter, Exotica, finished.

"Now on a peaceful summer night, all nature seemed at play," The Rum Tum Tugger sang, rather sexily, "The tender moon was shining bright, the barge at Molesey lay."

"All in the balmy moonlight it lay rocking on the tide—" Etcetera began, while swooning over Tugger's sexiness.

"And Growltiger was disposed to show his sentimental side." Her mother, Jelly, finished.

"His bucko mate, Grumbuskin, long since had disappeared," Pouncival sang, "For to the Bell at Hampton he had gone to wet his beard."

"And his bosun, Tumblebrutus, he too had stol'n away!" Tumble interrupted; it was his favorite part of the story because he was named after the captain's bosun.

Pounce knocked his friend, Tumble out of the way and finished with, "In the yard behind the Lion he was prowling for his prey."

The two tom kits tousled and rolled away from the group, knocking a few cats over as they went.

"In the forepeak of the vessel, Growltiger sate alone" the old tom meowed, drawing the groups focus back to the story.

"Concentrating his attention on the Lady Griddlebone," Victoria meowed; she swooned at the romance of the story as it finally arrived.

"And his raffish crew lay sleeping in their barrels and their bunks—" Plato mewed.

"As the Siamese came creeping in their sampans and their junks." Exotica meowed.

"Growltiger had no eye or ear for aught but Griddlebone." Vicky sang.

"And the Lady seemed enraptured by his manly baritone." Jemima caroled.

"Disposed to relaxation, and awaiting no surprise—" Cassandra began.

"But the moonlight shone reflected from a thousand bright blue eyes." Exotica finished, much to her mothers annoyance.

"And closer still and closer the sampans circled round," Admetus meowed.

"And yet from all the enemy there was not heard a sound." Pounce added.

"For the foe was armed with toasting forks and cruel carving knives." Tumble grinned.

"And the lovers sang their last duet, in danger of their lives—" Vicky, Jemima, Etcetera, and Electra sag together.

"Then Gilbert gave the signal to his fierce Mongolian horde; in a frightful burst of fireworks those Chinks they swarmed aboard." The old tom meowed; he said Gilbert's name like a curse.

"Abandoning their sampans, and their pullaways and junks," Munkustrap cut in, obviously disapproving of the old toms vulgar words, "They battened down the hatches on the crew within their bunks."

"Then Griddlebone she gave a screech, for she was badly skeered," Jelly meowed, "I am sorry to admit it, but she quickly disappeared."

"She probably escaped with ease, I'm sure she was not drowned—" her mate Skimbleshanks meowed.

"But a serried ring of flashing steel Growltiger did surround." They finished together.

"The ruthless foe pressed forward, in stubborn rank on rank." Tumble mewed.

"Growltiger to his vast surprise was forced to walk the plank." The old tom mewed in an offhand sort of voice.

"He who a hundred victims had driven to that drop," Pounce started.

"A hundred and seven, actually." The old tom corrected.

"At the end of all his crimes was forced to go ker-flip, ker-flop" Tumble finished.

"Oh there was joy in Wapping when the news flew through the land," Skimble reminisced, "At Maidenhead and Henley there was dancing on the strand."

"Rats were roasted whole at Brentford, and at Victoria Dock." Bustopher Jones remembered fondly.

"And a day of celebration was commanded in Bangkok." Cassandra informed them.

"And what happened after?" the old tom meowed.

"Nothing." Munkustrap meowed, "That was Growltiger's last stand."

"Aye, lad. But are you sure?" the old tom meowed.

Munkustrap was taken aback for a moment.

"You know more of the story?" Vicky asked excitedly.

"Ah, yes, love." The old tom meowed, "Would you like to here it?"

"Oh, yes!" all the kittens agreed; even the older cats stuck around to listen.

"Now, Growltiger weren't any fool. He clung to the side of his ship for three days and three nights. half of his claws were ripped right out of his paws. On the morning of the forth day, Growltiger's strength run dry and he was forced to release his grip of the vessel." The old tom began, "As a result he was washed right out to sea. There in the deep blue, further then any other cat has ever been, he met a vicious beast with four sets off pointy sharp teeth."

The kittens gasped in shock, the older cats in disbelief.

"And the brute took off with one of my… his legs." The old tom continued, ignoring the interruptions, "A few days later, Growltiger washed up upon the shore. He was looked after by a nice old she-cat, and not long after, began to search for his lost crew. He found ole' Grumbuskin not far from the Bell at Hampton. And Grumbuskin nearly got away, but Growltiger was faster, even in his old age."

"Did Growltiger get him good?" Tumble asked, bunching his legs in anticipation.

The old tom purred deep in his throat, "Yes indeed, young tom."

"Did you kill him?" Pounce asked, fearfully.

"No, I…" the old tom started, tensing. Then he flashed a mischievous grin, admitting to his own sinister past.

The surrounding Jellicles bristled in alarm and Jenny and Jelly attempted to shoo the kittens away from the old tom. Vicky protested as her father, Munkustrap snatched her up and away.

Growltiger chuckled at their surprise and laid his head down on his paws.