BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat
Part 1:
BC: So your birthday's coming up right?
MK: Yes. November 25th, why?
BC: This year I want to go all out! You know, in appreciation for you feeding me kibble (aka fake food), and you only cuddling with me for four hours each day (the snuggles when you sleep don't count because you aren't awake to admire me), and you only playing with me for an hour each day, and you "protecting" me by not letting me outside . . .
MK: I'm sorry . . . was there appreciation in there that I missed?
BC: Right. Whatever. Anyway. I want to give you something extra special.
MK: I don't know, Bear. The hairball you gave me last year was almost more "special" than I could take.
BC: HEY! That was Grade A - Extra Premium Fancy Bear Cat Fur I gave you!
MK: In regurgitated fish innards and fish gravy!
BC: Right. Whatever. Now I'm hungry. Can I have some treats?
MK: No.
BC: Fine! But show some appreciation for my present!
MK: You mean like your statement of "appreciation" earlier in this conversation that was full of veiled complaints?
BC: Right. Whatever. I want to get you something special.
MK: That's very sweet, Bear! Spending the day with you is all I need though.
BC: Well, OBVIOUSLY. You can't get any better gift than MOI, The Great Bear Cat!
MK: I agree.
BC: So can I have a couple hundred dollars?
MK: For my gift?
BC: Crap! Make that four hundred dollars.
MK: Oh no . . .
BC: I know how you've been looking at all those whole chickens! I definitely think you should splurge and get yourself one . . . from me. And one for me too - since we'll probably get some kind of volume discount if we get more than one.
MK: How convenient . . . for you. But we both know that the only reason I've been looking at a lot of whole chickens is because you keep e-mailing me pictures of chickens from the internet . . . even though you're technically permanently grounded from the internet and the computer.
BC: Right. Whatever. For all I know, you send them to yourself . . . they're sent from the same account as the one you get them from.
{Pause}
BC: FINE. I'll compromise and we can get just one whole chicken . . . as long as it's mine. Because Bear doesn't share.
MK: Nice compromise.
BC: I thought so!
{Pause}
BC: How do you wrap a chicken?
MK: Let's hope we never find out.
BC: Can you at least get the bows out for me to roll around in?
MK: And that would be my birthday party?
BC: Well, since you're in denial about wanting a whole chicken and a party pooper about the chickens, it only seems fair.
MK: So we know how you'll celebrate . . . What about me?
BC: You're selfish! "What about me?" Me! Me! Me! Everything's about you!
{Pause}
BC: If you dump out ALL the bows, we can BOTH roll in them . . . as long as my pile is bigger.
MK: And I'm the one that's selfish?
BC: Never mind. You're right. I want all the bows to myself because otherwise you'll be selfish and hog them.
{Pause}
BC: You can clean out my litter box.
MK: You're SO kind and thoughtful!
BC: Can I get extra treats too?
MK: So who's birthday is it again?
BC: Who said anything about a birthday? I just want to roll in bows and eat extra treats.
MK: Right. I'll get on that after I clean your litter box and clean up the giant hairball you left next to my desk chair.
BC: Thank you. You're lucky . . the hairball almost landed IN your chair!
MK: Thank you for aiming elsewhere.
BC: I didn't! The actual rate of projection didn't match the expected rate of projection. I made a mistake.
MK: Lovely.
BC: Don't say I never give you anything! Even if it was unintentional . . .
If you missed Bear's whole chicken campaign . . . you can find it {HERE}.
Pictures of Bear's bow party . . .
Part 2:
BC: Momma? MooooooooommmmmmMMMa!
MK: Oh no.
BC: Can I at least make you a cake for your birthday?
MK: Let me guess . . . you'll mash a bunch of your fishy flavored wet food together - drench it in gravy - and throw a couple treats on top . . .
BC: You act like that'd be disgusting! That's quality baking right there! You could learn a thing . . . or twenty.
MK: More like quality smooshing and fish smells.
BC: Don't be ridiculous. If I made a fishy cake, I'd have to eat it . . . for err . . . quality control purposes and to ensure you won't be poisoned.
MK: Quality control people only take a small sample . . . as do tasters . . . not the whole thing.
BC: So you're saying you want a fishy cake?
MK: No.
BC: Fine. Since you don't have any taste. Then I'm make you a boring regular cake.
MK: You just want me to get the stand mixer out . . . don't you?
MK: No.
BC: Fine. Since you don't have any taste. Then I'm make you a boring regular cake.
MK: You just want me to get the stand mixer out . . . don't you?
BC: I don't know what you're talking about!
MK: You love to sit and watch the beaters . . . you're obsessed.
BC: I don't remember this.
MK: And when I stop them, you stick your paws in the bowl and play. Only you whip your paw out after touching the batter because it's wet . . . and you shake your paw . . . so batter goes flying all over the kitchen. Over and over until batter droplets coat everything in the room, except for you. How you manage that is beyond me.
MK: You love to sit and watch the beaters . . . you're obsessed.
BC: I don't remember this.
MK: And when I stop them, you stick your paws in the bowl and play. Only you whip your paw out after touching the batter because it's wet . . . and you shake your paw . . . so batter goes flying all over the kitchen. Over and over until batter droplets coat everything in the room, except for you. How you manage that is beyond me.
BC: I think you're remembering the wrong cat.
MK: No. It was DEFINITELY you. Kitty was smart enough to stay off the counter . . . because she knew I'd give her a bite or two of whatever I had in appreciation if I didn't have to police the counters.
BC: You never give me a bite or two! I'VE BEEN SCREWED! YOU LOVE KITTY MORE THAN ME! I've been mistreated and unloved and treated as a petty criminal by my own Momma!
MK: Back up a second. Why did I say I gave Kitty a bite or two?
MK: No. It was DEFINITELY you. Kitty was smart enough to stay off the counter . . . because she knew I'd give her a bite or two of whatever I had in appreciation if I didn't have to police the counters.
BC: You never give me a bite or two! I'VE BEEN SCREWED! YOU LOVE KITTY MORE THAN ME! I've been mistreated and unloved and treated as a petty criminal by my own Momma!
MK: Back up a second. Why did I say I gave Kitty a bite or two?
BC: BECAUSE YOU LOVE HER MORE!
MK: Noooo . . . because I didn't have to protect the entire counter space from counter cruisers and kitty thieves!
BC: But you could have something REALLY tasty on the counter!
MK: And you could have a taste . . . if you stayed off the counter and didn't make me work twice as hard to make dinner because I have to fend you off.
MK: Noooo . . . because I didn't have to protect the entire counter space from counter cruisers and kitty thieves!
BC: But you could have something REALLY tasty on the counter!
MK: And you could have a taste . . . if you stayed off the counter and didn't make me work twice as hard to make dinner because I have to fend you off.
BC: I'm abused! Always blame the victim! Forget it! No cake for you!
MK: Then no stand mixer.
BC: RATS!
MK: Not to mention how much you love dropping your micey in my mugs and bowls of food. I bet if I let you make me a cake, there'd be at least a few micey dropped in . . . which means either mangled micey - like when you dropped one down the garbage disposal . . . or baked-in toy micey.
BC: I try to share them with you!
MK: Oh, really.
BC: Well, no. I guess not.
MK: You just hope I'm disgusted enough to hand over the bowl or mug to you . . .
BC: At least a sniff would be nice!
{Pause}
BC: RATS! You always trick me into incriminating myself!
MK: Not really. I already know all the things you do . . . so you don't have to admit to them.
BC: I HATE YOU!
MK: Happy Birthday!
BC: It's MY birthday too?
{Pause while Bear looks around - puzzling over this}
BC: You were mocking me!
MK: Yes.
BC: I'll stare at you until you feel bad for mocking me . . .
{Pause}
BC: Do you feel bad yet?
MK: No.
{15 minutes pass}
BC: Do you feel bad yet?
MK: No.
BC: RATS! It's my nap time . . . I'll be back! Prepare to feel bad! Say in fifteen minutes?
MK: Fifteen minutes? I thought you were taking a nap?
BC: I am. Right. Say 47 years and 33 seconds . . . after my nap I'll want a bite of FAKE food and to use my FOUL facilities . . . to take care of my big boy's business . . . because by then . . .
MK: BEAR! You're a cat! Not an airplane! I don't need a flight plan!
BC: You're awfully grumpy for it being your birthday!
MK: Bear! I'm just trying to finish our Thanksgiving post . . . and you sitting a foot away and staring at me makes me uncomfortable!
BC: My plot worked!
{Pause}
BC: Our Thanksgiving post? You mean the one where you go on and on about how thankful you are for me?
MK: I'm thinking of doing some MAJOR editing.
BC: {with narrowed eyes} I HATE YOU!
{Pause}
BC: Oh. And by the time I come back, get rid of the camera . . . unless you think it floats . . .
MK: Then no stand mixer.
BC: RATS!
MK: Not to mention how much you love dropping your micey in my mugs and bowls of food. I bet if I let you make me a cake, there'd be at least a few micey dropped in . . . which means either mangled micey - like when you dropped one down the garbage disposal . . . or baked-in toy micey.
BC: I try to share them with you!
MK: Oh, really.
BC: Well, no. I guess not.
MK: You just hope I'm disgusted enough to hand over the bowl or mug to you . . .
BC: At least a sniff would be nice!
{Pause}
BC: RATS! You always trick me into incriminating myself!
MK: Not really. I already know all the things you do . . . so you don't have to admit to them.
BC: I HATE YOU!
MK: Happy Birthday!
BC: It's MY birthday too?
{Pause while Bear looks around - puzzling over this}
BC: You were mocking me!
MK: Yes.
BC: I'll stare at you until you feel bad for mocking me . . .
{Pause}
BC: Do you feel bad yet?
MK: No.
{15 minutes pass}
BC: Do you feel bad yet?
MK: No.
BC: RATS! It's my nap time . . . I'll be back! Prepare to feel bad! Say in fifteen minutes?
MK: Fifteen minutes? I thought you were taking a nap?
BC: I am. Right. Say 47 years and 33 seconds . . . after my nap I'll want a bite of FAKE food and to use my FOUL facilities . . . to take care of my big boy's business . . . because by then . . .
MK: BEAR! You're a cat! Not an airplane! I don't need a flight plan!
BC: You're awfully grumpy for it being your birthday!
MK: Bear! I'm just trying to finish our Thanksgiving post . . . and you sitting a foot away and staring at me makes me uncomfortable!
BC: My plot worked!
{Pause}
BC: Our Thanksgiving post? You mean the one where you go on and on about how thankful you are for me?
MK: I'm thinking of doing some MAJOR editing.
BC: {with narrowed eyes} I HATE YOU!
{Pause}
BC: Oh. And by the time I come back, get rid of the camera . . . unless you think it floats . . .
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