Story 186: Reza Shadey and the Great Academic Yowl Scandal
Okay, snuggle down tight, little ones. Let me tell you a tale about a very cheeky and magnificently fluffy Persian cat who tried to become a very important professor... but forgot that the best ideas are the ones you actually think of yourself.
Reza Shadey lived in Catford. To ordinary humans, his garden was just a lovely patch of South London greenery. But to Reza, it was a strategic theatre of operations.
Every flowerbed was a potential marketplace. Every garden fence was a networking opportunity. Every nap was a research breakthrough.
And Reza privately considered himself a major player in global disruption. In fact, he sometimes wondered why the world's most successful entrepreneurs had not yet asked him for business advice.
One warm August afternoon, Reza sat proudly on the patio table. He was wearing a discarded plastic flowerpot on his head like a very fancy academic cap.
"Gather round, my associates!" he announced, using his best wannabe-entrepreneur-speak.
Penelope padded over gracefully, already sensing that Reza's latest announcement would require diplomatic intervention.
Ginger Tom ambled behind her, mostly because Reza's disasters were usually entertaining and occasionally came with snacks.
Finally, Tiger — a high-energy kitten known as the "Furry Missile" — bounced across the garden like a small stripy rocket, radiating pure 2026 vibes.
Reza puffed out his chest.
"I have just published a groundbreaking academic thesis."
He paused dramatically.
"It is titled: The Strategic Execution of the 3AM Yowl and its Correlation to Biscuit Acquisition."
Tiger gasped.
"That sounds high-key amazing! Maximum chaos vibes!"
"It is a masterpiece", Reza declared.
He nodded proudly.
"I have single-pawedly invented the perfect midnight yowl."
Ginger Tom scratched his ear.
"Hang on. Isn't that just yesterday's muddy newspaper with 'REZA' scribbled all over it in crayon?"
"That", Reza sniffed haughtily, "is my rustic publishing method."
Suddenly, a smooth, expensive-sounding meow floated down from the top of the fence.
It was Shah Fluffybutt.
Shah was a genuine mirror rival whose ventures — and luxury cushions — were objectively more successful than Reza's.
He hopped down gracefully, landing perfectly on his famously successful cushion.
"Fascinating thesis, Shadey", Shah purred calmly. "Especially since it is entirely copied from my own blog. You even left my paw-print signature at the bottom."
Penelope's whiskers twitched.
A strict moral audit had begun.
"Oh, Rezzi. Did you copy Shah's work?"
Reza's extreme intellectual vanity flared up.
A normal cat might have apologised.
But Reza was Reza, and admitting defeat was not part of his strategic worldview.
"I did not copy!" Reza declared, waving a paw. "It was a strategic pivot of intellectual property! History requires strategic updates!"
Shah slowly blinked.
"You stole it. I want you to admit it."
Reza narrowed his emerald eyes.
If he could not defend his work, he would overcomplicate the problem.
He looked across the lawn, where the Dog — the Bureaucrat of the Mundane — was sniffing a dandelion.
"!" Reza yowled dramatically. "I demand a full security investigation!"
waddled over, looking confused.
He saw only a cat on a lawn.
"Woof? Investigate what? Has someone buried a bone?"
"No!" Reza pointed a shaking paw at Shah Fluffybutt. "I demand you investigate him! He is asking me unauthorised journalistic questions! Questioning a visionary is a severe breach of garden security!"
Tiger's eyes went huge.
"Ooooh! Scandal! This is getting spicy!"
Penelope sighed softly.
"Rezzi, you can't have the authorities investigate someone just because they caught you copying their work. That is completely ridiculous."
"Watch me!" Reza huffed.
", sniff him for insubordination!"
gave Shah a polite sniff.
"He just smells like expensive shampoo", reported happily.
Before Reza could demand a second sniff, the back door opened.
Out stepped Mrs Higgins, the Ambassador of Normality.
Her arrival had a strange effect on the garden. The grand academic drama suddenly looked rather more like what it actually was: a cat, a muddy newspaper, and a very confused dog.
She was listening to the news on her radio and shaking her head.
"Honestly", Mrs Higgins tutted to herself. "Another professor in trouble over plagiarism... and everyone arguing about who should be investigated instead of what actually happened. What a silly old world."
She looked down at the lawn and smiled.
"And what are you silly sausages doing?"
Then she noticed the muddy newspaper covered in Reza's enthusiastic crayon scribbles.
"Oh, Reza, you naughty cat. Have you been digging in the recycling again? And dragging mud near Shah's lovely cushion?"
For a moment, Reza froze.
His grand illusion had popped.
"I was conducting peer-reviewed research!" Reza meowed indignantly.
Mrs Higgins simply chuckled and scooped him into her arms.
"Come inside, you little copycat. No more pretending to be a professor for you today."
As he was carried away, Reza looked over Mrs Higgins's shoulder at his friends.
True to form, he refused to admit fault.
"This is not a retreat!" he called out to Shah and Penelope. "It is an executive sabbatical to protest unfair media scrutiny! My strategic worldview remains entirely intact!"
Ginger Tom laughed so hard he nearly choked on his biscuit.
"Blimey... he's unbelievable."
"That's our Rezzi", Penelope sighed fondly.
A very important message from Mrs Higgins: It is wonderful to be proud of your ideas, but it is never okay to take someone else's hard work and pretend it is yours. Do your own clever thinking, and if you need help, just ask!
Night night. Sleep tight.