“you…i’ve seen you before.”
“yes, you have. i’m a fucking feline who can’t drink.”
“oh. you―i—i could’ve sworn i saw your death announced on the news though?”
“you did. i told you before, i’m a fucking feline. nine lives.”
“oh… how many do you have left?”
“eight.”
“cool. mind if i buy you something to eat?”
“i’d love that, actually.”