TIMMINS, ON — Upon hearing the unmistakable sound of a scoop dig into a wet clump of litter, three-year-old Muffins Fitzwilliam has climbed atop his cat tree to look down upon you with the quiet, menacing authority of a tiny feudal lord.
What began as an innocuous maintenance scoop has quickly turned into the performance of a lifetime as Muffins is now pacing and casting a harsh, judgemental stare as you, a mere serf, dispose of his waste.
“This is a power trip,” reported your roommate who just overheard you refer to the cat as ‘my liege’. “Look at you – your hand is shaking and you’re breaking a sweat. All this for a cat who licks his own ass.”
In response, Muffins gave a curt, unimpressed look and began pantomiming cleaning up the mess himself by just sort of brushing the floor with his paw, presumably mocking your inability to do it correctly.
“You can’t keep living like this,” pleaded your boyfriend. “Muffins won’t actually draw and quarter you in the public square if you miss a few clumps. Please, you can’t keep letting him get away with this absolute monarchy. He doesn’t even have thumbs!”
Reports indicate that this is the latest instance in a long-established pattern of the feline monarch treating you like a lowly peasant forever toiling in servitude beneath him.
According to sources, the diminutive sultan rules the 1000 sq foot apartment in which you live and pay rent with an iron paw, requiring a royal banquet of Fancy Feast each morning and forcing you to go on harrowing crusades to retrieve the toys he so callously banished to behind the couch.
Witnesses also report that Muffins has also recently used his power to enact Prima Nocta with Waffles, the orange tabby cat down the lane.
At press time, Muffins has climbed on top of you and begun using you as a human throne in an effort to degrade you like the lackey you are.
Jesus Christ is King
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