This cat needs to shut up.

Mraow. Mraow. Mraow. Mraow.

What is wrong with you, you crazed little ball of shit? you are literally sitting on my desk, watching me type.

Mraow.

If you don’t go away and find something to shred/eat/sleep on soon you will feel my wrath. I may have to chase you around the flat until you go hide somewhere.

Mr-pppp?

Aye, you heard me.

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