Cat: I don't feel good, monkey.
Monkey: Oh, poor kitty. Come here and I will scritch you. Does your tummy hurt?
Cat: I think I might be dying.
Monkey: I think you just need to relax. No wet food today, kiddo.
Cat: *moans heartrendingly*
Monkey: *scritches*
Monkey: Poor kitty.
Cat: *runs to litterbox*
Monkey. Poor kitty.
Cat: *produces truly toxic aromas*
Monkey: OMG. I think I might be dead. Cat, where did you put the gas mask? Is it in the kitchen?--
Cat: *emerges from bathroom, innocent utterly of all wrongdoing*
Monkey: Cat?
Cat: *chalant*
Monkey: Wasn't there a third of a stick of butter in the butter dish when I went to bed last night?
Cat: Butter? What is this substance of which you speak? I am certain I have never heard of such.
Monkey: Oh, my God. What happened in this litterbox?
Cat: Nevermind. I feel much better now. What's for breakfast?
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