Monday morning, chez Yowl
Her Grace and Sleekness the Duchess of Yowl: Pick me up, I want to sit on you.
Me: I'm trying to work here.
DoY: I need to sunbathe here!
Me: ok, ok, come on up.
DoY: No, I want you to move to the left. I want to sit on you and get the sun through the window.
Me: (scooching to the left 3/4") ok, is this where you want to sit?
DoY: No. Move to the right.
Me: (scooching to the right 1/4") ok, come here, I'll pet you.
DoY: Your paws smell funny. You've been drinking toxic sludge again haven't you?
Me: If you mean Cafe Bustelo, then yes.
DoY: Civilized animals drink tea.
Me: You don't drink tea.
(sardonic glare standoff)
DoY: move to the left again, you're still not in the right place.
Me: As long as I'm moving around, you're not getting petted in the sun, yanno.
DoY: A beam on the head is worth two on the tush.
Me: I'm being out punned by a cat.
DoY: Better than being outbunned by a hot dog.
Me: You're in league with Colin Smith, aren't you?