Gotta feel sorry for Stanley, Captain, and Mark. We had a little incident after dinner where Stanley followed close on Mark's heels as Mark was walking in the vicinity of the sink, getting ready to make some Crystal Light.
Mark had no idea that Stanley was even there, and when he took a step backward, he tread on Stanley's poor wee paw.
Predictably, the response was "MRRRREAAHH!!!"
Mark nearly went through the ceiling. Stanley retreated to the dining room, hackles raised and tail fluffed up like a Halloween cat. Captain heard the commotion and came running in from the living room to see what happened. He saw Stanley and his bottle-brush tail, and sniffed his brother all over, fluffing HIS tail up in response. Captain didn't even know what was wrong, but if Stanley's fur was all standing on end, then it must be scary. So then we had TWO Stripey Critters wandering around the dining room with raised fur and supersized tails.
Poor kitties. Poor Mark.
Fortunately, when I checked Stanley's paws, I found no evidence of injury. Now the Stripey Boys are curled up next to me on the sofa. Mark's logged in upstairs. So peace has returned to the household.
(Now that the crisis has well and truly passed... um, is it OK if I laugh now?)