April, sweet April, T.S. Eliot had you all wrong.
You’re not the cruellest month.
You’re not trying to show us fear in a handful of dust.
You just have more questions than answers. But you also have more tulips than Tiny Tim, so we’ll resist the urge to flick your questions aside with our tails.
We’ll just answer you with fields of feline flowers:
Banished to Ringworm: NOOOOOO ONE.
Friendlified Beyond All Imagining: The T-Cats. How do you go from Saddam Hussein to Shirley Temple, from Hannibal Lecter to Hello Kitty? Only Tesseract, Tex, Torus, Tagalog and Tensor know.
Promoted to the Lounge: Sugar, Puzzle
Promoted/Demoted/Moved About Like Sofas On Sliders Elsewhere: Everyone. Every. One. Seriously: ev-e-ry-one from Darcy to Danielle, Coal to Karina, Angelo to Angela. Ergo, I’ll skip the usual Promoted portion of this Epilogue, as it would be easier to say who hasn’t moved. Stay tuned for dancing details on all those moves.
So come on out of the waste land, kittens. The long winter is over; the season for singing has come.