WATCH OUT, PEEPERS!
Fine. DON'T listen to me, then.
See if I care.
Just don't come complainin' to me later. You needn't come complainin' to me, at all!
'Cause seriously, Peepers, you'll get no sympathy from me. No sympathy, whatsoever. Not an ounce, nor an iota. Not a mite, nor a speck, nor a crumb. Not even a scintilla.
Uh Peepers, you happen to notice you've gone and wet your pants, there?
Oh my mouses, that's funny. Excuse me, Peepers, while I roll over onto my other side and laugh at you some more.
Oh my mouses, I'M KILLIN' IT HERE!
Peepers wet her pants... Peepers wet her pants... Peepers wet her pants...
Okay, so the peep didn't wet her pants all by herself. She had some help. Yup, she had a little help, for sure.
And that help came from, as you might have guessed, Andy.
So this is why it happened: The peep, bein' a peep, didn't listen to me.
What? I need to explain more? REALLY? 'Cause seriously, my friends, I thought my explanation was pretty self-explanatory. The peep didn't listen to me and, as a result of her not listenin', she went and wet her pants.
Okay, I shall endeavour to elaborate.
Andy was scarfin' down the treats, like only an Andy can do, immediately prior to hoppin' onto the chesterfield in the family room. Then, due to his scarfin', Andy threw up. Yup, that long-haired marmie freak of a brother of mine threw up right there on the chesterfield in the ol' family room.
But the thing is, the peep didn't realise Andy had thrown up. Oh sure, she knew he had coughed a little, but she didn't know he had actually tossed his cookies, so to speak.
And in a way, he hadn't. Toss his cookies, I mean. 'Cause firstly, he had been eatin' treats, and not cookies, so he had no actual cookies to toss. And secondly, what he threw up was mostly liquid. There were some specks of non-liquid sick, but those specks of throw-up were kinda the same colour as the cotton throw on the chesterfield, so...
So the peep didn't see 'em, at all.
Now here comes the important part. The most important part of this here entire story. This is the part that is more important than anythin' else, and had the peep been listenin' to me, LIKE SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOIN', she would never have gone and wet her pants.
I. TOLD. The peep. To watch. Out.
That's right, my friends. I. TOLD. THE PEEP. TO WATCH. OUT.
Yup, that's just what I did. I said to the peep, "WATCH OUT!" and I said it just like that, too.
But did the peep listen to me? Did the peep listen as peeps always should?
OF COURSE NOT. After all, she is just a peep. Apparently, Peep #1 thinks she's too good to listen to a kitty like me.
Well the next thing I knew, Peep #1 had gone and sat down on the chesterfield, right there on the spot where Andy had thrown up.
AND PEEP #1 WET HER PANTS.
It just goes to show you, peeps should always listen to us cats. Yup, they should always listen to us cats, for sure.
Hey Peepers! You know what? You really ought to go change those pants.