"Huh? Pusss?" Shark says,

"I wonder what that crazy cats been up to all these years"

The cat Puss in Boots needed no introduction.

But in case you forgot, he was a legend who went by many names: Diablo Gato. The Furry Lover. El Chupacabra. Friskie Two-Times. The Ginger Hitman. And of course, Puss.

Such an accomplished cat needed well-deserved praise.

But even more than praise, he needed a party! Puss was preparing for the Fiesta del Puss in a cliffside mansion in Del Mar.

"And like any party of his, it would be great.

In case you're wondering, "How did Puss get a cliffside mansion in Del Mar?" do not fret--all will be revealed soon! Just put your trust in Puss.

Puss stood outside the ballroom, preparing himself for the party. Though already equipped with his cavalier hat and trusty sword, he needed to practice all his moves to bedazzle the socks-and boots -off of everyone.

"T'cha tcha oo, cha," Puss said, mimicking a fencing lunge. His paws moved swiftly and accurately.

"Oh yeah, I'm good," Puss reminded himself happily.

He was ready for the fiesta! Puss waltzed into the banquet hall to meet his guests.

He shimmied through the throngs of attendees, admiring all the partygoers as they danced to the live band.

"Welcome to my fiesta!" Puss said.

The partygoers, all decked out in strange and fine rags, held up their merriment to the sky.

"Make yourselves at home," continued Puss.

"Eat." He picked up a kabob from the food spread and waved it around, pretending it was a sword. The crowd went wild.

"And drink!" Puss leapt and flipped onto nearby barrels. With one clean swipe of his sword, he uncorked three barrels of leche and watched as the drink cascaded downward.

The partygoers cheered. They filled their glasses to the brim with leche and sang Puss's praises as he made his way through the crowd.

And we do mean through the crowd. Puss traipsed over.

a few outstretched palms, a hook, a hoof, and a child's face.

"Papa! He stepped on my face!" the child cried.

"And we will never wash it again!" the child's father called back, making sure Puss knew their loyalty to him remained unwavering.

Puss made his way onto a high balcony railing.

The crowd couldn't stop clapping and looking upon him with wonder.

A spotlight found Puss, and he took this opportunity to throw handfuls of gold into the audience below.

"People of Cordova!" cried Puss.
"It's Del Mar!" one partygoer interjected.

"People of Del Mar! Accept this golden gift from ...Puss in Boots!" Puss cheered, while chucking the gold out into his sea of adoring fans.

"Play a song!" one fan requested.

Puss smiled, feigning modesty. "No, no, no. I couldn't."

"Sing for us!" another partygoer chimed.

Even the cows mooed in agreement. Moooooo.

That translates to, "Sing for us, Puss," in Moo.

"I couldn't possibly ..." Puss trailed off.

Of course, this was his plan all along. He raised a paw.

Magically, his guitar flew right into it.
Puss began strumming the guitar.

He played some gnarly flamenco solos, stomping in rhythm as the house band joined in.

It was a fiesta for the record books!

"Who is your favorite fearless hero?" Puss sang. "Who is brave and ready for trouble?"

The crowd joined in.
"You are. You are!" they cheered.

Puss threw balls of yarn into the crowd like beach balls.

"Who is so unbelievably humble?"
"You are.

You are!" the crowd continued.

Puss was riding the party wave. He stage-dived into the crowd, through the partygoers, and up to the barrels of leche.

"Who is the cat who rolls the dice?" Puss called. "And gambles with his life?"
"You are!" the crowd sung.

"Who's never been touched by a blade?" Puss added as an after-thought.

"You are! You are!"
"Who is your favorite fearless hero?" he called out, this time dancing with a chicken.

Puss continued playing guitar and the crowd continued cheering. He swung around the banquet hall on curtains.

Until....CREEEEAK! The mansion door opened. Two high-heeled boots, very stuffy, in Puss's opinion, for boots.

entered with luggage. The band stopped playing and Puss stopped singing.

It was the governor! He was a pompous bureaucrat in a powdered wig, just now returning from vacation.

And in case you were wondering how Puss bought a mansion . .. he hadn't.

(See? The answer, as promised!)

The mansion belonged to the governor. And the governor didn't know about Fiesta del Puss.
The governor dropped his suitcases in disbelief.

"My clothes!" he gasped angrily, as it became clear the peasants had raided his wardrobe and were parading around in his finest threads.
"My wig!" the governor cried. It was sitting atop the head of an Andalusian horse.

"My portrait!" the governor bellowed. His lordly portrait had been painted over so that it now had the head of Puss in Boots.

And the governor, now understanding who was at the helm of such a heist, locked eyes with Puss, who was suspended above on one of the governor's curtains.

"The outlaw, Puss in Boots!" he wailed.
Puss descended slowly.

With a smirk, he turned to the governor on the rail of the balcony, still holding his guitar.

"Welcome! Mi casa es su casa," Puss called.

The governor was furious. "No, su casa es MI casa!" he said.

"Arrest these filthy peasants and bring me the head of Puss in Boots!"

The governor stood in the banquet hall in just his undies. Naturally, the crowd laughed and pointed at him.

"Skin that cat!" the governor cried out in fury.
But Puss had a plan. He struck a match and revealed that his final move.

Fireworks!

"Governor," Puss said. "Lighten up."

He touched the match to a fuse. FLASH!

Meanwhile, outside, the sky above the governor's mansion exploded with fireworks.

They were louder than thunder and more beautiful than anything the people of Del Mar had ever seen.

The sound boomed and ricocheted off the mountaintops ...

Which awakened a mountain giant in the outskirts of Del Mar and made him stir.

(Of course, Puss doesn't know that yet. So don't tell him.)

The mountain giant had antlers and one glowing, searchlight eye.

An eyepatch covered the other eye. The mountain giant looked at the governor's mansion and headed toward it.

Back at the mansion, the governor's guards were back.

They dog-piled Puss on the floor. All the crowd could see was a heap of tangled limbs and armor. After a moment, one guard stuck his hand out from the top of the pile, seemingly victorious.

Alas, there was a rustle at a nearby table. It was Puss!

He was standing and drinking some leche, no less.

"Silly guards. Dog piles don't work on cats," Puss said.

But his excitement was short lived when . .. a pair of mountain giant hands ripped off the roof!