THE MASSES HAVE SPOKEN. (So Has The Linden Dollar.)
A Report From Your Embedded Field Correspondent, Who Is Beginning To Wonder If She Needs Hazard Pay
The votes have been counted. The kiosk has been interrogated. The democratic process, as it pertains to feral cats and their romantic entanglements, has concluded. And the Grid has rendered its verdict with the kind of enthusiasm one usually reserves for a free buffet at a Relay event.
The final tally?
❖ YES: L$10,700
❖ NO: L$150
Now. Before we move on, we must pause and address that L$150 in the NO column, because I am a journalist of considerable integrity, and I cannot in good conscience let this slide past without comment.
Of that L$150, I was informed that L$50 came from none other than Luna herself, while she was testing the donation kiosk immediately after setup to confirm it was functioning properly. She voted NO on her own wedding. To check if the machine worked. I do not know whether to be impressed by her commitment to quality assurance or mildly concerned about what this says about the institution of catrimony.
That leaves L$100 in NO votes unaccounted for. A mystery. A scandal. A conspiracy. Possibly all three. I have launched an internal investigation and expect results sometime between never and whenever I finish this paragraph. Moving on.
THE MOUNTAIN HAS BEEN CLIMBED. THE WISENHEIMERS HAVE BEEN CONSULTED. THE DOWRY HAS BEEN PRESENTED. THE GROUCHO GLASSES HAVE BEEN WORN.
While the votes were still being tallied and the Grid was vibrating with the kind of anticipatory energy that only two feral cats and a questionable kiosk can generate, JoCat quietly disappeared on what he described as an epic mountain climbing expedition to seek enlightenment from the Great Wisenheimers. Presumably this was necessary. Presumably he could not simply ask someone over bingo. I do not make the rules of catrimony. I only report on them.
He returned. He was, by all accounts, enlightened. He was also, by all accounts, armed with a very large bag and a copy of a 1987 book about the art of negotiation, which he had skimmed on the flight home. Reader, I cannot stress enough how much I respect the audacity.
Upon his return, JoCat sought a private rendezvous with none other than Rafe Odinson himself, Guardian of Luna, Keeper of the Shield Wall, and owner of what is apparently a very formidable set of manly, Old Spice scented Viking sensibilities. The meeting took place under suitably dramatic circumstances, away from the bingo crowd at The River, on a wide open plain, as two of consequence tend to conduct their business.
JoCat asked for Luna’s paw in holy catrimony. He then produced the dowry.
The dowry, which Rafe has confirmed and I feel compelled to document for posterity, contained: the cowbell from Luna’s now legendary SyndiCATS Ghost performance (iconic), a bouquet of roses (presumably for Naomi, which is frankly a very smart political move), a Viking horn (respect the research), a muscle man doll (no further comment), a microphone brush (of course), a L$1,000 gift card to LDC (absolutely excellent), and a pair of Groucho Marx nose glasses.
The Groucho glasses went on immediately. Both of them. No discussion needed. Two enormous novelty noses, and one very important conversation about a chimera cat who steals blankets and dignity in equal measure.
Rafe, for his part, dispensed with the premeditated rifle and threats he had apparently planned in advance, which I think speaks well of everyone involved, and particularly of JoCat’s dowry curation skills.
“Do you accept,” Rafe asked, “that she will steal your spot, your blanket, and your dignity?”
“SHE DOES THAT ALREADY,” said JoCat.
And that, dear readers, was apparently the correct answer. Memory like a cat. He never forgets. (What were we talking about? Oh yes.)
Rafe, satisfied, taught JoCat the sacred Sugar SKOLS Shield Wall handshake. He then dubbed him Sir JoeCat of Clan Odinson.
Then, because JoCat had skimmed that book on the flight home and apparently retained just enough of it to be dangerous, he drove a hard bargain for one final concession.
Rafe will be providing the chairs and tables at the wedding venue.
I want to be very clear that JoCat did not have to arm wrestle Rafe for this honor. He said so himself. I believe him. Mostly. I was not there for the negotiation and I have only his word, which he offers with the solemn confidence of a cat who once navigated international incidents and has the title to prove it. Rafe may or may not recollect the conversation having gone exactly like this. You are welcome to ask him. I recommend bringing snacks and an exit strategy.
THE DATE IS SET. THE CALENDAR IS OFFICIAL. THE CATS ARE COMMITTED.
The event, now officially listed on the ACS calendar, is called A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE.
✨ Sunday, April 26, 2026
👉 2 pm to 5 pm SLT
https://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Kangean/114/59/3203
April, as I have noted in previous dispatches and will note again because I feel it deserves all the emphasis, is International Cat Month. Of course it is. Of course two feral cats with a flair for the theatrical and a history of causing scenes at charity events would schedule their wedding during International Cat Month. I would have expected nothing less. I would have been disappointed by anything more sensible.
The Grid has voted. The Wisenheimers have been consulted. The Groucho glasses have been worn. The Shield Wall has extended its bricks in welcome. The chairs and the tables have been negotiated, without injury to anyone’s manly Viking pride.
Sir JoeCat of Clan Odinson and LuCat of the Hope Floaters will walk on the wild side on April 26th, and I will be there, notepad attached, chronicling every moment of it for you, because someone has to.
I never forget.
What were we talking about?
Oh yes.
The wedding.
See you there.
*With all the love in a vomit bucket, your Embedded Field Correspondent*
.: (¯`’•.¸♥`*•.¸(`*•.¸♥¸.•*´)¸.•*´♥¸.•’´¯) :.
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