I don’t know what generation my current cats are, and there used to be four often, and I called them the ‘Fantastic Four’. ‘Mr. Fantastic’ is the smartest cat among them. I called another the ‘Thing’ because he’s the ugliest (maybe because he’s the oldest). The youngest cat is the ‘Human Torch’ for being a hotshot. And the only female in the group is ‘Invisible Woman’ (being the only female).
Mr. Fantastic, being the smartest, left the group one day, since he knew he will have an irrelevant life if he stays in our yard. He envisioned himself doing better than eating table scraps (probably to make a starship like his namesake). I don’t know if he is gone for good (dead? Or captured by Dr. Doom?). In the past, he was also absent for a very long period, but eventually he returned. But he has yet to return from this current absence of his (rumor is he’s alive in an alternate universe).
The Thing is the ugliest and oldest. He is even older than my own sister. What he does each day is sleep, run from the neighborhood cat bully, annoy my mother, and only says, “It’s clobberin’ time!” when it is time to eat.
Hotshot Human Torch is all talk (or meow). Before fights, he mews threateningly like he will tear his enemy into pieces, but sooner the fight commences, he goes “Flame on!” and flee.
Invisible Woman disappears quickly when approached. No different. Nuff’ said.
Well, these are my cats – the Fantastic Four cats. Like most household cats, mine are conceited, selfish dumb, and lazy. But I like cats anyway than the “loyal, smart, heroic, energetic, noble” dogs (sheeesh). Cats remind me - in some ways - of humans.