Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-4893169-20190829215235

It was Jacquelyn's turn to hold the Full Moon Tea Ritual. With careful attention, she prepared the buffet-style table with clean tableware and  matching tea service. She properly baked a tidy assortment of English-style biscuits (cookies), small cakes, and scones, and made the savory finger-sandwiches, even cutting off the crusts for the fussier guests. And the water was on the porcelain enamel stove waiting for her to turn on the heat once the guests arrived. As she puttered around, meticulously checking off her list of formal arrangements, Jacquelyn worried about whether anyone would notice that she was using bovine milk rather than licorne cream and if Phoebe would still be angry about what happened last time (when Jacquelyn’s little aspie brother randomly mailed out the party notices and invited half of the neighborhood), and were the sandwiches elegant enough to make up for using just plain three-tiered cake stands, or would they gossip about her store-bought brand afterwards like they'd gossip about Murielle's... and then she noticed the cat in the garden again. The cat had been skulking about the place for a while. Jacquelyn considered shooing it away. It was a mangey looking thing-- matted black and beige fur clinging to its wiry, whippet like frame. It looked diseased, flea-infested, zombish even. On any other day, Jacquelyn wouldn't even have bothered. Would even have thrown some table scraps to it. But tonight was the Full Moon Tea, and she didn't want to put the group into yet  another awkward situation. Sighing, she stepped outside with the broom. Then she halted, because the cat was ambling towards her, smiling very broadly like the Cheshire one in the story. "Do you often keep your guests waiting for quite so long?" Its voice grated like a rusty gate hinge. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed quickly,  I'm so terribly sorry, but there's clearly been a miscommunication. Due to the venue size, we're keeping the guest list quite small. This means we just do not have room to fit everybody on the list. I'm so terribly sorry that we can't extend an invitation, and even more sorry about this miscommunication. I hope you can understand."

“Oh, well, no matter,” the cat carelessly replied. “I’m quite sure your tea room’s big enough to accommodate up to three hundred guests very comfortably.”

"Wait, what?" stammered Jacquelyn. “But I only invited eight.” Then she stared incredulously over the lawn, mouth falling agape as  the whole place swarmed with a feline throng. They approached the opened doorway, hundreds of them, perching upon statuary and garden benches, emerging from the topiary and mossy undergrowth. The air soon filled with a shrill trilling and meowing.

Her  left eye began to twitch uncontrollably as the furry hungry crowd soon engulfed her, swallowing her whole. 