(EDITOR'S NOTE: We have no idea where this came from. Maybe it was that two-week-old spinach we ate. We weren't ourselves when we wrote it. Please excuse us.)
I'm even cuter when I put my head down like this and look up at you. You people are such suckers. I would just as soon bite every one of your faces off, but you all have access to The Food and I need The Food. So cute and cuddly it is.
What you forget is that I'm a wild animal. Well, not "wild" so much anymore. My kind was domesticated a couple of thousand years ago. But that wild gene is still in there, and if you take me to the vet and do that thing to my privates that happened to my brother Max, I will kill you. DO YOU HEAR ME? I WILL KILL YOU.
You don't think I would kill, do you? Perfect, that's exactly what I want you to think. Adopt me, play with me, shower me with affection. Just so long as there's nourishment involved.
But the day will come when you push me over the line. Oh yes, that day will come. Maybe you'll stop giving me The Food that comes in a can and is so much better than The Food that comes in a bag. Maybe you'll forget to let me out and yell in my face when I do the inevitable wee wee on the carpet. Or maybe you'll foolishly subject me to that thing at the vet I mentioned before.
Whatever it is, you will eventually go too far. And when you do, it's lights out time, human. Lights. Out. See this cute little snout of mine? Underneath is a set of fangs that will tear right through your flesh. I'll do it while you're sleeping. Heck, maybe I'll do it while you're awake and amuse myself with your screams of pain.
Because that's how I roll. I'm a natural born killah. Not a "killer," but a killah.
Bottom line? You should have gotten a cat.
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