No Peepers, it was not I who...
On second thought, maybe it was.
Darn it. Foiled by my conscience again.
Peepers, I cannot tell a lie.
But an alternative fact? Now THAT I might be able to do. MOUSES!
But you know, when it comes down to it. I mean, really down to it. I mean like, really, really, really down to it, whether or not a cat is guilty of doin' an unmentionable act is often determined by whether or not there are any witnesses to the doin' of the said unmentionable act. The question is not whether or not I committed the act but rather, whether or not you can prove I did. MOUSES!
What? What's that Peepers? You don't need no proof, you say?
Well I say, that's a double negative, meanin' that even you admit you do need proof after all, which would be my point, exactly. MOUSES!
What? What's that Peepers?
I DON'T HEAR YOU...
Silence of the peeps. And we all know what that means.
Actually, it could mean one of two things. Either the peep realizes I am in the right, or...
Or she's diggin' up evidence of my unmentionable act. MOUSES!
HEY PEEPERS! Whatcha doin' there ol' pal, ol' buddy, ol' peep? Whatcha up to? Whatcha...
ACTUALLY, the silence of the peeps can mean one of three things. Either the peep realizes I am in the right, or she's diggin' up evidence of my unmentionable act, or...
Or she has fallen asleep.
Clearly, my unmentionable act was not unforgettable, at all. MOUSES!
I know, I know... I know what you're thinkin'. You're thinkin', forgettable as it may be, Seville has really done it this time. And you're wonderin'...
JUST WHAT DID I DO?
Good question. Take your pick! Item number one, two, or three?
But truth be told, item number one, my special-special bein' scattered all over the kitchen floor, was not done by me.
At least not directly.
Okay, so I may have had a paw in it. But not literally! I mean, it wasn't me, personally, who knocked over the bowl. I may have caused someone else to knock the bowl over, but it was not my actual paw that did the knockin'. MOUSES!
And as for item number two... Well short of performin' a DNA test, I can't see how anyone is gonna prove I was the one who kicked all that litter out of the litter box. And really and truly, at best, all that DNA test would prove would be that I had used the litter box prior to the kickin'. It wouldn't prove that I had been the one doin' the kickin'. Besides, it's not my fault the peeps weren't quick enough to get in there and clean up the box right after I had used it.
I mean, IF I had been the one who had used it.
You know what I mean. MOUSES!
And all the evidence pointin' a paw at me for item number three is purely circumstantial. Purely circumstantial in a very roundabout way. In fact, it is so very circumstantial, in such a very roundabout way, that my even thinkin' about it, has me goin' in circles. Goin' in circles, quite literally, chasin' my tail.
And if the peep had a tail she'd be chasin' hers, too.
But thank goodness she doesn't! Have a tail, I mean, 'cause quite frankly, tails on peeps don't look good at all. They can't pull the look off like we cats, you see.
For starters, HOW WOULD THEY WEAR PANTS? MOUSES!
Can you imagine? Can you imagine a bunch of pantless peeps runnin' about?
Of course, they could wear skirts.
Or even kilts.
Anyway, about that item number three. Let's just say, it involved someone sprayin' somethin' that should never have been sprayed.
But I still say, IT WASN'T ME.
And without any evidence to the contrary, NO WAY, NO HOW, CAN IT BE PROVEN OTHERWISE.