[3566] in Humor
Humor: Diary of a Paranoid Cat
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Victor P. Morales)
Tue Nov 13 03:20:42 2001
Message-Id: <200111130817.BAA04046@mail.elp.rr.com>
Date: Tue, 13 Nov 2001 01:18:47 -0700 (MST)
From: "Victor P. Morales" <morpheus@alum.mit.edu>
Reply-To: morpheus@alum.mit.edu
To: Humor At MIT <humor@mit.edu>
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DIARY OF A PARANOID CAT
Monday:
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling
objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat
dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape,
and the satisfaction from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.
Tuesday:
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while
they were walking almost succeeded; must try this at the top of the
stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I
once again induced myself to throw up on their favorite chair....must
try this on their bed.
Wednesday:
Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving,
incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.
Thursday:
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt
to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear
into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good
little cat I was....Hmm. Not working according to plan.....
Friday:
I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was
chosen for the water torture. This time however, it included a
burning, foamy chemical called "shampoo". What sick minds could invent
such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck
between my teeth.
Saturday:
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in
solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the
noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call
"beer". More importantly, I overheard that my confinement was due to
MY power of "allergies". Must learn what this is and how to use it to
my advantage.
Sunday:
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The
dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is
obviously a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got to be an
informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to
molespeak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my
every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety
is assured. But I can wait; it is only a matter of time...
