Story 152: Reza Shadey and the Sausage Roll Dispute
Okay, snuggle down tight, little ones.
Let me tell you a tale about the time our magnificently fluffy Persian cat, Reza Shadey, discovered a treasure so delicious it nearly broke his business partnership... nearly.
It was a crisp Saturday afternoon in Catford. Mrs Higgins's nephew had been visiting, and in his rush to catch a football in the garden, he dropped something quite miraculous onto the patio.
It was a massive, premium, golden-baked sausage roll.
Reza Shadey, who was in the middle of a "perimeter security nap", smelled it instantly. His emerald eyes snapped open. He rose with purpose and slunk over, his fluffy tail twitching with the thrill of acquisition.
But he was not alone.
Ginger Tom, the sturdy orange cat with a permanently rumbling tummy, approached from the shed.
"Blimey", Tom muttered, licking his chops. "That's a proper bit of grub, that is. Finders keepers, eh, Reza?"
Reza puffed out his chest until he resembled a brown-and-black cloud of corporate authority.
"Correction, Tom", he purred smoothly. "This is a high-value snack item. As Chief Executive of this garden, I am officially claiming it for Reza Shadey Industries. However, as my logistics manager, I shall grant you a generous five percent reward portion."
Ginger Tom squinted. "Five percent? You're havin' a bubble, mate. We spotted it at the same time. Fifty-fifty. Fair dos."
"Fifty-fifty?" Reza scoffed, his whiskers quivering with outrage. "Tom, you lack vision! My superior intellect needs more snack power to keep my genius running. I am the brains of this operation. You merely provide... occasional heavy lifting."
"I'll give you heavy liftin' right now if you don't share that sausage roll", Tom grumbled, stepping closer.
The two cats stood nose to nose — a tense standoff over the flaky prize.
"Ahem."
The smooth, silky voice drifted from the shadows by the fence.
Out stepped Felix the Fox. His russet coat gleamed, and his amber eyes shone with quiet, predatory intelligence. He wore a very sharp, very polite smile.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen", Felix drawled. "A dispute over capital? How terribly inefficient. Perhaps you require the services of an independent third-party referee?"
Reza's ears perked up. "Referee?" he said. "You mean... a consultant?"
"Precisely", Felix nodded, padding gracefully onto the patio. "I specialise in fair sharing. Allow me to divide the asset so that neither party feels short-changed. We wouldn't want a hostile merger, would we?"
Ginger Tom frowned. "I dunno, Reza. Foxes are proper sneaky."
Reza waved a dismissive paw. "Nonsense, Tom! This is standard corporate procedure. We are outsourcing our conflict resolution. Proceed, Felix. But do bear in mind that my executive status warrants a slightly larger portion."
Felix chuckled softly. "Of course. Let us ensure the division is perfectly balanced."
With a swift snap of his jaws, Felix broke the sausage roll into two pieces. He placed them carefully on the paving stones and tilted his head, inspecting them with exaggerated concern.
"Oh dear", Felix sighed. "This piece on the left is clearly larger.
He paused.
"And as they say... possession is nine-tenths of the law."
Crunch, flake, swallow.
Felix took a hearty bite from the larger piece.
"Oi!" Ginger Tom yelped. "Wot are you doin'?"
"Market adjustment", Felix replied smoothly, licking his lips. "But now... oh dear. The right piece is larger. The scales of justice are still unbalanced."
Crunch, flake, swallow.
Reza's eyes widened in horror. "Stop! The asset is depreciating! You are liquidating our profits!"
"I am merely balancing the books, Mr Shadey", Felix smiled, teeth flashing. "Ah... left side again. My apologies."
Crunch.
"And now the right."
Crunch.
Reza and Tom …watched, paralysed, as the fox's "auditing process" continued at alarming speed. Reza tried to compose a cease-and-desist order, but his corporate vocabulary failed him in the face of vanishing pastry.
"Hang on a minute", Tom growled, stepping forward. "There ain't gonna be nothin' left!"
Felix snapped up the final crumbs in one swift motion. He swallowed, neatly wiped his whiskers, and gave a deep, theatrical bow.
"There we are", he announced cheerfully. "Perfectly equal. You both have exactly zero. The dispute is resolved. My consultancy fee was, conveniently, the full value of the asset. A pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen."
With a flick of his bushy tail, Felix vanished over the fence, leaving behind only a faint smell of pastry... and complete silence.
Ginger Tom stared at the empty patio. Then he looked at Reza.
"Well", Tom sighed, "that was a right disaster, weren't it, boss?"
Reza Shadey stood very still.
His internal rationalisation engine roared into life.
He could not look foolish. A CEO never looks foolish.
He drew himself up, smoothed a slightly ruffled patch of fur, and lifted his chin to a regal angle.
"Disaster?" Reza scoffed, his voice dripping with forced confidence. "Tom, your lack of strategic insight is staggering. That was not a disaster. That was a highly successful executive decision."
Ginger Tom blinked. "We lost our lunch, Reza."
"We strategically got rid of it!" Reza insisted, pacing briskly. "Sausage rolls are laden with unnecessary carbohydrates. I realised mid-negotiation that such a heavy asset would hinder our operational agility. I deliberately outsourced the liability to the fox. We are now leaner, faster, and ideally positioned for healthier acquisitions."
Tom let out a long, rumbling sigh and turned towards the shed.
"Right you are, Reza. I'm gonna execute a deliberate nap to forget how starvin' I am."
Reza watched him go.
Then he glanced down and spotted a single, tiny flake of pastry Felix had missed.
Quick as a flash, he licked it up — just to be safe.
"A flawless executive decision", Reza murmured to himself, though his tummy gave a small, traitorous rumble. "I remain undisputed master of the board."
A very important message from Mrs Higgins:
If you find dropped food on the floor or out in the garden, leave it right there! It might be dirty or covered in germs, and it's best left for the foxes and the birds.
Night night. Sleep tight.