Another day, another punishment. I thought girls were supposed to like bad boys? SHE is apparently the exception to that rule and basically hates me lately. I suppose I deserve it... I broke into the treat cabinet again and devoured a bunch that were housed in some weird Chinese takeout container (meow-goo-gai treats?). But in my defense, I was merely practicing in order to audition for “The Treat-Off”—this reality show HE told me about in which the cat who breaks into the cabinet and eats the most treats first wins! I’m not really sure what I’d win, maybe a lifetime supply of treats... But I partake of those now pretty much anytime I please. I’m only in it for the glory, to hear my name announced as the rightful Treat-Off Champion. Meanwhile she should be cheering me on and getting me trainers to help in my quest, but instead she pointed her finger right in my face and branded me “Worstest cat.” Sticks and stones, Harlot...Look, I am SO getting on this reality show. Double sided sticky tape, magnets... These are no match for me. I can get in that cabinet anytime I want. And I did again once she went to sleep. I creeped over in the dark, jumped up on the counter, pawed open the cabinet, stuck my nose in to sniff out the treats... But didn’t smell anything. Hold up, where are my treats? I was just in here a couple hours ago, I know they are here. What is this garbage? She moved treatsville? There is nothing in this cabinet except claw clippers and my special cat brush... Neither of which are remotely tasty. I’ve been foiled!! How am I supposed to get on The Treat-Off now?!?! Arrrghhhhhh I’ll get you next time Gadget, nexxxxttttt time...
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