Something stinks in my living quarters. I'm not referring to the hairless mole rat imitators I live with, aka humans. I'm talking about the one and only Ragamuffin. Ever since that long hair creature entered the scene, my life has been a living hell. Fur ball tumbleweeds blowing across the floor, late night pounce fests when all I want to do is sleep. I think Ragamuffin might have even been the one that sold me out to the humans regarding my desire to rule the world.
Look at that sickening face there. He plays the cute card every chance he gets. Playing with the heart strings of the humans, he has them in the center pad of his little paw. He is my kryptonite. His mere existence causes my fur to stand on end. He is the prime example of the downfall of the cat name, all friendly and cuddly, not at all aloof. He makes me sick. The house would be a better place without Ragamuffin in it. Tang doesn't agree, but Tang isn't worth my spit.
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