Billy the eccentric, show tune lovin' cat consultant is severely lacking in his cat duties. A little less time on Betty, Billy, and stop being so picky. If you don't get that cat out of my brothers apartment someones take- out might have some fur in it.
Mark is pretty much over the cat. He's kind of had enough. Turns out the cats not only a sneeze waiting to happen, he's also kind of a pain in the ass. To start he apparently stares and paces at my brother until he plays with him. I'm not sure what this "playing" entails, but it lasts about thirty minutes and the cats still not happy.
Today Mr. Cat (who incidentally doesn't have a name, it wasn't that I didn't know it) decided to do his business while smirking at my brother. After he was done reading the paper he went over and used the couch as his toilet paper. The same couch Mark is forced to sleep on so he can sleep on the bed and Mark can breathe at night. The cat doesn't seem to have a ton of respect for Mark's sleeping quarters. Or maybe he thought it was a pleasant odor (one doesn't know what is pleasing to a cat odor wise) and decided to spruce the place up for him. Maybe he was just being nice...
After Mr. Cat (who is being with great love referred to as "Chucky" now) ripped down the shower curtain. For real. I got this information in a txt. It gave me delightful daydreams of Chucky the Mad Cat with his pointy little nails walking in the bathroom, just minding his own businesss...and then, he sees the shower curtain. What goes through his mind do you think? Maybe, "That would look better as a rug?" or maybe he just stretched his sweet little baby paw and accidentally his claws slipped out and inadvertently ripped down the shower curtain. That's the story I'd go with Chucky, I'm just sayin'.
Billy the Cat Consultant is called. He says, "No one is good enough yet for Chucky." I'm going to tell you something and it's the truth. One time I was in San Francisco and I saw this homeless man that had the most beautiful ragdoll cat on a leash. I swear to God. The person I was with (who is operating all the time on a half a brain at best) said, "Oh, look, they must have been friends forever." Um, I don't think so. It was about a $1500 cat, the guy had on a dirty trench coat, two different shoes and a beard as long as Rapunzel's hair. The cat was also pulling as far away as he could. It was a sin, for all parties. My point is, Chucky, shape up. You're in New York City. Just smile and look pretty... things could be worse.