Norman and the Raccoon

Disgusting fat pig cat.

Battlecat is our very own little Norman Bates, here in our Roach Motel. He has 12 knives, built in. Sometimes a beetle or hopper will wander in by mistake. All who stay are soon slain, and in the off season, he drags them in off the streets. I'm glad -- I don't have to do any of the butchering or disposing of bodies. Battlecat deposits the corpses in Phil's shoes.

Yin-Yin, the disgusting fat pig cat, after recently discovering the smorgasbord of the kitchen trashcan, has become a little fucking raccoon with a taste for any half-rotted human food. She now refuses cat food, opting instead to wait ALL DAY if she must, until the humans are sleeping, when she can begin her raping and pillaging of the kitchen.

We have a small, lidless metal trashcan. I wised up the other night and covered it with a pot lid. At six in the morning, I found Yin in the kitchen sink, lapping soapy ice-cream water out of a dirty bowl. This cat is truly human. She will eat shit food that makes her barf all day, and will stop at nothing to get it. She is probably a good candidate for working customer service for AT&T or ComCast. Somebody, HIRE HER.