Sacco The Cat
I think my cat is following me,
I can smell him everywhere I go.
The pungent seraphim of his cat like being hangs in the air all around me.
I think that cat is watching me, watching me and waiting. Waiting for what I'm not sure,
But I know he's out there somewhere, watching me.
I can smell him I know he's there.
You know the cat's been purvey
to some pretty delicate conversations, he's heard things.
A cat with that kind of knowledge could do a lot of damage to an organization such as mine.
I think he's been talking to the cops. I think he's gonna flip, turn stoolie. He's a rat. A cheese eater.
And cheese ain't no good for a cat no matter how you slice it.
Now me and Sacco go way back,
that's the cats name, you know the ones that been following me. I remember
the first time I met Sacco.
I was sitting at a bar anchored in place by the memory of a horse that ran like he had four concrete shoes and nothing to prove.
Sammy, that's the bar tender, filled my glass for the fourth time and said "Why the long face Tommy?" "Long face" I questioned " Perhaps it's just my receding hair line" Sammy never cracked a smile.
But out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a blond bombshell that moved like a pair of loaded dice.
She sauntered over to the bar stool next to mine and induced her plunging neck line directly into my point of view.
I lit her cigarette and faked a smile. She smoked the cigarette even though she knew the smile was fake.
Then she said I looked like a guy who just lost half a grand on a two to five shot.
I said "Baby you must be with the psychic friends network". She said "No", but she had once tried out for the Star Land Vocal Band , but now she spent most of her time with Sacco the Cat.
Sacco was small potatoes in them days not much more than a kitten. Only thing he ever done was place second in a win a date with the Ritz Brothers contest. But we was gonna change all that. We scratched and clawed our way to the top and let me tell you it wasn't easy. Sacco had been declawed, but he was plenty tuff for a house cat.
But then things began to unravel between me and Sacco. I remember the night we knocked over the biggest pet store in the city. Sacco accused me off shorting him on the cat toys. It was nonsense I told 'em. After all what was I gonna do with a plastic ball with a bell in it. But Sacco wouldn't listen to reason. "I'll get you ", he said. "I'll get even with you" That wasn't the Sacco I knew, that was the cat nip talking. You see, he had developed a pretty bad habit by then. He was a cat with a monkey on his back and that ain't something you see everyday.
But he was outa control and I
had to act. I had to make it look like an accident or better yet a trip
to the vet. I knew a broken down old veterinarian on the wrong side of
the tracks who would do anything for a buck.
So he got the needle ready and my job was to get Sacco there. But Sacco had a lot of horse sense for a cat and he blew town before I could put the plan into action.
And now he's out there, somewhere.
Watching me. Watching me and waiting. Waiting for revenge. And I know he's
there, I can smell him everywhere I go.