My feline, Itchy, awoke very, very vocally this afternoon. First, it was the usual gutteral growlings, 'nice to see ya,' 'take a sedative'and such. Then he got to the "meat of the matter." I went to open a window for him as this usually soothes his savage beastiness.
But today, this only made it worse! He glared at me with the blazing jackal eyes of Horus. "What do you want of me, Itchy?" "I am only Terran," 'Eeehharehrh!' "Ok, you are correct, technically, I am a Terran, Klingon, Vulcan hybrid, but what is your point, mofo?"
'Burrrraaarrroow." "Really?" 'Eehrrraow" "No way Itchy." 'Aahrrah" "Itchy, you have listened to that Aretha Franklin record forty times today--you expect me to play it AGAIN?!" 'RAUHRAH! 'NAAAR' "OK. OK. I'LL PLAY IT ONE MORE TIME YOU ZOOANOETIC FREAKAZOID!"
"Sorry Itchy, this very limited, irrationally-programmed, super-slooooow Terran 'computer' is not cooperating." Itchy pounced from my lap onto the keyboard. With a few rapid, deft strokes of his back left paw the computer not only unfroze but "All I'm askin' is for a lil respect...when ya com home!" ; the Aretha belted out of the tiny tinny computer speakers.
Itchy crowed 'rr rrr rrrrr rrrre 'pech," in alley-cat harmony. For a cloned Felis montanis hybrid, he had a pretty nice voice, Sometimes his rhythm was off, but hell, he is a fuckin' CAT, and he just woke up.
"Are you happy now, your freakin' majesty?"
He just smiled baring his fangs.
The Terran/Vulcan noted to himself, "I will remember he can do that when the computer malfunctions. To prevent so much goddamn frustration, one of the worst terran emotions."
