To the untrained eye of the rank amateur, this may appear to be merely a cute, innocent kitten. But I can assure you that beneath the surface of his furry little hide lurks a devious, manipulating feline mind. Using only his wits and adorable looks, he has some how managed to hijack my life.
Before I go any further, perhaps I should explain how this little creature came to invade my apartment. It started out innocently enough, as I pulled through the drive-thru at McDonald's. Little did I know, as I ordered two cheeseburger Happy Meals, that my life would never again be the same.
"Would these meals be for a boy or a girl?" asked the lady at the window.
I told her it didn't matter. Oh, if I could but go back in time and change those fateful words!
I returned home with the victuals and we ate sumptuously. It wasn't until I was preparing to throw away the trash that I remembered the surprise.
I reached into the bottom of the bag and slowly withdrew a small, black kitten in a sealed plastic bag. The kitten quickly took stock of his new surroundings and began immediately issuing orders.
"Get me out of this bag!" he ordered irritably. "And fetch me some diced salmon. Pronto!"
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"Never mind that," the kitten said. "Where's my salmon? Chop, chop! And make sure it's fresh."
"If you want fresh salmon," I said, not to be outdone. "Why don't you scamper down to the Grand River and get your own?"
"What?!" The kitten was aghast and paled a little. "Do you know who I am?"
"No," I said. "Thrill me."
"Your attempt at sarcasm bores me," said the kitten. "I happen to be Whizz-Bang, son of Whizz and grandson of the late great Bang. My salmon?"
And this, dear readers, was only the beginning. Since then, he has continued to make fun of everything I do, sneer at my slightest mistake, and plot against me at every turn. So the next time you are tempted to order a Happy Meal...don't.
by The Stupid Blogger's Wifey