Panic in Fatsville

Fidget has discovered a new source of adventure and intrigue:  the bedroom dresser.  Due to an unfortunate misalignment incident, one of the drawers does not close flush with the one below it, allowing it to jut out about an inch.  Fidget, ever the attentive optimist, has discovered this flaw and took complete advantage of it this afternoon.  He succeeded in opening the drawer and wedging himself in the back of it, invading the clothing that was in its rightful place.  Upon depositing a large amount of fluff onto the clean clothes, he noticed a cave.  This cave was created by the absence of the drawers in housing of the dresser.  Huckleberry Fat could not contain his excitement at such a hallowed place and immediately took up residence, making closing the drawers impossible, lest his pudge be compressed.  However, Huckleberry Fat soon became bored with his impenetrable fortress, realizing that it's maybe not so much fun having a castle in which one can have no visitors.  In seeking an exit, the thought that he could have left the same way he came apparently did not occur to him.  Panic quickly followed.  As Huckleberry Finn might have panicked when his candle blew out in the cave, so Huckleberry Fat had a fit trying to escape from his Cave of Doom.  Huck Fat tried to squeeze himself through the only opening he could find:  the 3-inch gap between the floor and the dresser frame.  Clawing the carpet frantically, he attempted to ease himself under the wood paneling like a cork out of a champagne bottle...with no success.  Despondent and alone, Huck Fat fell to his last resort: crying like a baby.  A crowd gathered around the trapped feline, consisting of a confused Buck, a concerned Moose and an indifferent Henry.  I, being the ever-caring mother, said something along the lines of, "Get out of there, stupid!"  I then stuck my hand through the giant opening above his oblivious stripey head, guiding him from his place in Limbo.  He was appreciative, and allowed me to hold him for a whole 1.6 seconds before bouncing off of my sternum and running to tackle a jingly ball.  It's the thought that counts.