Living life on easy street wasn't as much of a drag as it sounded. For one Thomas O'Malley, having a family to take care of gave this slick (former) alley cat more of a reason to enjoy his newfound life of luxury, if his relationship with the sapphire-eyed, white-furred beauty Duchess wasn't enough already.

While kids weren't necessarily his forte, he took to the role of stepfather like a cat to a mouse, gladly watching after the trio of wild little rascals like they were his own - he didn't think he had it in him to be a father figure, but he was proven wrong from the moment he laid his well-travelled eyes on them… as bizarre as it was to have them listen in while he shamelessly flirted with their mother.

That said, having a place to lay back and kick his paws up didn't stop O'Malley from sauntering along the grounds of the Madame's swanky mansion on this fine Parisian afternoon, humming/scatting his signature tune to himself. Maybe he could get Scat Cat and the fellas together to bust out a few tunes with the family, since he knew Berlioz had one heck of a taste for the ivories, with Toulouse not far behind. Even Marie was starting to build some pipes too, much like her mother; he'd make a songbird outta her yet.

His ears perked up at the clatter of a trashcan being bumped into, and couldn't help but wonder who was messing around over there, whether it was one of the many strays the mansion had taken in, or one of his kids wandering around again - not that he could be too annoyed, considering he'd been doing much the same most of his life.

Figuring it was worth a shot, he padded over to take a peek, only to find… a cowering, nervous (and pretty hungry-looking) stray cat. A wry, knowing chuckle rumbled in Thomas's throat, tail swaying casually.

"Well, hey there, stranger. Looking for a bite to eat, are 'ya? Yeah, I know that feeling all too well." he remarked in that low, smooth drawl of his. "The name's J. Thomas O'Malley - but you can just call me O'Malley. C'mon, I'll show you where the good stuff's at."