Flashes of Inspiration

How the Tables can Turn

"You won’t get away with this, Belize!" Andrea shouted after the Siamese. Her shirt was soaked in beer. She looked at Jeff, shaking her head. "Did you train her to knock people's beer out of their hands?"

Jeff was slowly getting his laughter under control. "She... She never... She's never liked you, Ann! Remember your purse?"

Memory of said purse did not improved Andrea's indignation. She easily recalled how her eighty dollar purse had been transformed from chic to shredded one night my Little Miss Belize.

"Well I don't think I like her either," Andrea said, setting her beer down and getting up to get a towel. Jericho watched her go by, his silly pink tongue hanging out.

"You know I know the number for the animal shelter, don't you?" Andrea asked as she heard Jeff start laughing again. She walked back into the small living room smiling, seeing the humor herself, now that she wasn't soaked in Coors.

Jeff slowly got himself under control again. "She doesn't like anybody but me, Ann, that's the funny part. She scratched Dom's leg the other night for absolutely no reason!"

"That's not okay, Jeff."

Just then, Belize gracefully jumped up on an end table and stared at Andrea with feline malevolence. Ann stared back. Suddenly, Jericho barked at the cat. Belize was so startled that she fell of the end table with no grace whatsoever, looking around self-consciously before slinking off in defeat.

It was Ann's turn to laugh as she walked over to Jericho, thinking how much better a dog was than a cat. She called into the kitchen where Belize and slunk.

"I told you you wouldn't get away with it!"

Jericho barked and smiled his big sloppy smile, rolling on his back, offering Ann to some much-needed therapeutic belly.

NOTES: ▶︎

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "You won't get away with this"