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It looked as if it was dragged through the mud at about 60 miles per hour
for a day and a half. It was a walking, breathing germ, infesting our apartment
and our lives. It's head kept twitching while it eyed us, mewing incessantly,
pleading for us to put it out of it's misery.
Trevor raised the stick again.
And I stopped him, because, dammit, the germ was CUTE.
Not cute like a bunny rabbit, not cute like a drooling baby or a drunk girlfriend...
but cute like a ugly stuffed animal that your grandparents had given to
you when you were 5, and you loved it until it was a grey bag of stuffing
that was falling apart. It was chewed on by you, moths in the shed it had
been in, and generally not in very good shape. But still, you look upon
it fondly, at first because you loved it, but now because it needs assistance.
"MEEEEEIIIIIIIUUUUUUUWWWWW!!!!!"
"oh, JESUS! Let's feed him something." I said.
"We are not keeping this cat." Trevor plainly stated.
"Fine, FINE, I don't want him, really. Let's just give him something
to eat, he looks hungry."
"We are not keeping this cat." Trevor repeated.
I stared at Trevor.
Trevor stared at me.
"ARGH. Alright. Feed him."
Trevor went to play some video games, and I crouched down to say hi to Germ.
He immediately jumped into my lap, and started to purr.
I was seduced.
I gave him a fat piece of turkey, and he ate it.
And he liked it. I went into my room, and drifted off to sleep.
"We are not keeping this cat!" Trevor screamed from the other
room.
I woke up about an hour later, and went into the living room.
Trevor was asleep on the couch, his mouth wide open in a gaping snore.
A thin string of drool quivered from his lower lip.
Germ was there, asleep in his lap. There was an empty can of tuna in the
kitchen.
Trevor had been seduced. |
