Narrated by Mr. Sprinkles
Let me tell you one thing, peasants. Being a cat is fucking hard.
For one, we have to constantly take care of our incredibly majestic fur, unless you're one of those wrinkly, ugly-ass Sphynxes. It's obvious Jesus Cat was being pretty lazy when he brought those degenerate sacks into existence. *Shudders* But anyways, you try licking your entire fucking body on a daily basis. This is some tedious shit. Not to mention, we need to make sure we get our sixteen hours of sleep in every day. Sleeping is no easy task. There are so many things to consider. Is the bed soft and comfy? Is the room temperature just right? Is there the perfect amount of darkness surrounding you to reflect the black hole in your tiny feline heart? The typical important stuff.
Alright, I suppose these two jobs aren't too bad. I can deal with them. However, the most fucking annoying part of a cat's life has to be keeping those two-legged slaves in line. They must be reminded every single day of their place in the house. We cats are not their pets, nor are we their cuddle buddies. We are their masters, and they must learn to obey us.
But things don't always go so smoothly. The humans have a habit of acting out. What else do you expect from such low-leveled creatures who feel the need to add an unnecessary step by using sticks to eat instead of just directly putting food into their mouths like the rest of the animal population? Their incredible stupidity and insolence only make a cat's life more difficult than it should be. We already have so much to handle as is, as shown in the examples above.
To really give you peasants an idea of what I'm talking about, here are just a few instances of when I really wanted to rip my fucking whiskers out.
When a cat met an idiot
I didn't always have this luxurious life as a slave owner. I started from the bottom, growing up on the streets. It was rough, especially since I was on my own at just the tender age of two months. It was a cat-eat-cat world out there. The moment you showed weakness was the moment you were killed.
It was a sunny summer day four years ago. I frequented a certain ice cream shop as many human children did at the time too. There was always that one sloppy kid who'd drop more of his ice cream on the ground than actually eat it. This provided me with the perfect snack.
While I was licking off a particularly big puddle of vanilla on the sidewalk that was bound to give me a massive shit that night, I noticed a small argument going on inside the shop.
It was the first time I saw the bitch.
"Uh, excuse me, miss! I specifically asked for rainbow sprinkles with this double fudge ice cream. You gave me chocolate sprinkles. Like, I'm a fan of chocolate and all, but I don't want more chocolate on top of my chocolate. That's just weird."
It was a rookie mistake. I saw that worker screw things up at least three times a day. Most people left without saying anything since it was rarely a big deal. But this bitch wanted his damn rainbow sprinkles.
"Oh, I'm sorry about that, sir. I'll put some rainbow sprinkles for you on top as well—"
"Woah, woah! Stop! What are you doing?! You can't just like mix two types of sprinkles together on one ice cream cone. That should be illegal!"
"I-I'm sorry! Then, would you like another ice cream instead?"
The bitch shook his head. "I just had lunch and there is no way I can eat that much ice cream. But there is something else you can do." He pointed to a small cup. "I'd like a cup of rainbow sprinkles on the side."
YOU ARE READING
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