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The sun slowly came up where Jon Arbuckle’s house stood. Garfield, spread along the windowsill like an orange throw blanket, stared lazily at the neighborhood outside. In Garfield’s opinion, mornings were like an enemy invading his yard.
“Another day,” Garfield muttered, “another opportunity to do absolutely nothing.”
That was when he saw it.
A shadow slid across his yard, too plump to be Odie, and too deliberate to be a passing squirrel. This shadow belonged to a cat. but not the friendly, neighborly type. Garfield’s ears twitched. It was Fat Cat. He was the notorious crime boss from the city, known for running shady business dealings. Rumor had it, he was responsible for the recent chain of local tuna shipments being stolen.
Fat Cat snooped around with a smug grin, then raced over to Jon’s shed, looking for anything valuable to nab.
Garfield narrowed his eyes. “Great. Trouble before breakfast. I should’ve just stayed asleep.”
Meanwhile, deep in the forest behind Garfield’s neighborhood, a different cat stirred around. He was a massive purple one with the temperament of a sleepy river. Big the Cat had just finished a morning of fishing when he noticed a group of strange goons wandering nearby. They were heading towards town with a strong scent of tuna emitting from all of them. Big had a knack for sensing when something was amiss, though he usually confused it with hunger.
“Froggy…” Big mumbled, looking down at his frog friend. “Something’s… wrong. I think we need to go into town.”
Froggy croaked intentionally, as if he sensed trouble nearby as well.
Later that day, Garfield decided to follow Fat Cat’s trail to the alley behind George’s Fish Market. Through a crack in the door, he could hear the crook’s scratchy voice.
“Tonight, we hit the dock!” Fat Cat said to his group of alley cat henchmen.
“Perhaps the biggest shipment of the world's finest tuna ever to reach this place. Enough to allow us to be the kings of the coast!”
Garfield’s stomach growled hard. World's finest tuna was perhaps the only phrase that could motivate him as much as all-you-can-eat lasagna.
But then Fat Cat added something that made Garfield’s whiskers stiffen.
“And we’ll frame that purple oaf who hangs out by the river all the time. What’s his name… Big the Cat? The cops will think he did it, and we’ll be in the clear!”
Garfield thought two things immediately. First, he didn't care for Fat Cat’s smugness while planning to frame an innocent cat. Secondly, if anyone was going to get their paws on that tuna, it was going to be Garfield.
Back in the woods, Big the Cat trudged along the trail toward town, Froggy hopping beside him. They stopped at the sound of rustling in the bushes. Out came a very determined orange cat.
“I’m Garfield,” the cat said without hesitation. “You Big?”
“Uh… yeah,” Big replied slowly. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“Not really,” Garfield said, “but we’ve got a common problem. A certain well-fed jerk named Fat Cat is planning to steal a huge shipment of tuna tonight and pin the blame on you.”
Big gasped. “That’s… mean.”
“Mean and also pretty wasteful,” Garfield agreed. “So here’s the deal: we're gonna stop him, get the tuna, and you help carry it because you’re pretty enormous.”
Big tilted his head towards his green pal. “Will Froggy get some?”
“Sure, why not,” Garfield shrugged.
Big smiled warmly. “Okay, friend. Let’s stop him.”
Garfield wasn’t typically one for teamwork, but Big’s laid-back nature was oddly comforting. That night, the two found a bench near the pier and hashed out a plan.
“Fat Cat’s going to hit the dock at midnight,” Garfield said. “We’ll be waiting. You block the back exit, I’ll sneak around the front.”
“Then what?” Big asked.
“Then we grab the tuna,” Garfield said with a mischievous grin. “And maybe drop a few… surprises in his getaway route.”
“What kind of surprises?”
Garfield smirked. “Let’s just say Fat Cat’s going to regret not skipping breakfast.”
The fog was thick, surrounding the dock in a white blur. Big crouched, or at least attempted to crouch, behind a stack of crates near the rear exit. Garfield, surprisingly nimble for his size, stealthed across the shadows to the front.
Right on cue, a fancy black vehicle pulled up, and Fat Cat exited with all of his cronies.
“All right, boys,” Fat Cat purred. “Load it up!”
Garfield waited until the first crate of tuna was on the move. Then he tipped over a conveniently placed barrel of grease. Fat Cat’s cronies yowled as they slipped, crashing into each other like bowling pins.
“Now, Big!” Garfield hissed.
Big charged forward with surprising speed for someone with such a large build. He managed to scoop up several crates of tuna like they were pillows. Froggy hopped along, following closely and croaking rapidly.
Fat Cat spun around, fur standing up. “What the?! Stop them!”
But Garfield was already in full mischief mode. He leapt onto the black vehicle’s hood, scratching deep grooves into the paint. “Hope you’ve got insurance!” he taunted.
Big, getting a tad tired while still clutching the tuna, lumbered toward safety. But Fat Cat lunged for him.
Garfield intercepted with a flying tackle that was brave, but rash. The two cats rolled across the dock in a blur of fur and claws.
“You think you can out-fat-cat me?” Fat Cat snarled.
“I am the fat cat,” Garfield shot back. “You’re just an imposter in an overpriced suit.”
With a final shove, Garfield sent Fat Cat tumbling into a tower of fish crates. They immediately toppled over and buried him in an avalanche of smelly fish. All of his cronies scattered into the night.
Alerted by the noise, the harbor police arrived. Garfield and Big were nowhere to be found. The officers found Fat Cat struggling under a pile of fish, mumbling angrily about tuna and frogs.
Sitting by the river in the woods, Garfield, Big, and even Froggy feasted on their fishy bounty.
“You know,” Garfield said between mouthfuls, “you’re pretty cool for a big guy who fishes all day.”
Big chuckled. “And you’re not bad for a small guy who talks a lot.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a while. Then Big looked up at the stars. “Think we’ll ever see Fat Cat again?”
“Oh, probably,” Garfield said with a grin. “But I don’t think I'll be the one to regularly stop his villainous plans. But if the time comes, I’ll be ready. I wouldn't mind teaming up with you again sometime too.”
Big smiled, Froggy croaked, and Garfield reached for another can of tuna. For two fat cats from quite different environments, an unexpected but awesome friendship had begun.