As I sat eating my lunch yesterday, I kept hearing an ominous growling and general ruckus coming from the kitchen. I knew one of the little shitheads were up to no good, but I was hungry, so I stayed put and consumed like a good little Chungus.
The growling intensified and became a wail.
I set aside my lunch and went out to see what was going on. In a fit of frenzied hunger, Oscar had taken to killing and eating a cardboard box that we’d left on the kitchen table the night before. He was in full murder mode: eyes slitted, ears back, and growling angrily as he bit into and violently tore off chunks of cardboard from the box. Half of them were spit out with an outraged feline epithet that I’m quite certain was racist. The other half ended up in his surly little gullet, because I’m not stupid enough to mess with a cat when they’re in full on murder mode.
I snapped a pic so that the coroner would know what happened when they found my body, then went back to finish my lunch.
Stanley already had.
Desperate times may breed desperate measures, and the early bird might get the worm… but the sneaky demon cat with a stupid brother gets the chicken.