Jezuz Kriste! Look what my Over-Lordz brought into the home!
And they’re calling him Venkmann? The cat-twerp’s not even potty-trained and the caretakers are talking about letting him stay. Can you believe it? He’s got ear-mites (which are almost dripping off of him) and they gave him a “feline leukemia” test which came back NEGATIVE… which probably means he’s mentally challenged or something (i.e. stupid!) I mean, he just sits there and purrs! Just Purrs! That’s all… and poops… and eats… and purrs… and poops some more. C’mon man!
Me? I gots skills. I roll around on the floor when the caretakers get home and beg for attention in the finest feline way! Stretch, pet, roll, pet tummy, roll, pet other side, roll, and bite finger! That’s the way it’s done, dude! Ask me. I’ll tell you how it’s done.
For now, I’m just gonna stare and growl in a completely unambiguous way at this Venkmann-cat. The caretakers won’t know, but the black fur-ball will know. He’ll know I’m boss, cuz’ I could TOTALLY take him. That’s right. That’s what I’m talkin’ about.
Oooh. I just heard thunder… must be another storm… I could totally grab one of those light-branches that shoot downward from the sky. Bring one of those home and I’ll TOTALLY own this house. Meh… I’m gonna gather my strength and just… Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.