Oh what a horrible waste.
Of all the stupid, moused-up things for a stupid ol' peep to do.
Oh hello there, my friends. I was just thinkin' aloud. Thinking 'bout how stupid Peepers is and 'bout the stupid thing she did this mornin' and...
WHAT A HORRIBLE WASTE!
Pardon me? You wanna know what Peepers did this time?
Well are you sittin' down, my friends? You definitely need to be in a sittin' position to hear this, 'cause quite frankly, if you're standin' up and I tell you what I'm about to say, you'll likely collapse from shock.
I don't want my pals fallin' down and hittin' their heads, you see.
Okay, here it is...
Are you ready?
This mornin', I found Peepers....
Oh, I just don't know if I can say it aloud.
Okay. Deep breaths. This mornin'... This mornin' I found Peepers...
THIS MORNIN' I FOUND PEEPERS CUTTIN' APART BOXES WITH A BOX CUTTER AND STUFFIN' LITTLE ITTY BITTY BITS OF PREVIOUSLY PERFECTLY GOOD BOXES INTO BLUE BAGS TO PUT OUT AS RECYCLIN' ALONG WITH THE GARBAGE.
With the garbage.
CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?
And I was gonna use those boxes, my friends. I was gonna use 'em for nappin' and playin' and just... Well, you know... Hangin' out in, in general, but now...
NOW I'VE BEEN ROBBED!
How could she do such a thing, my friends? How could she? HOW COULD SHE STEAL MY PERFECTLY GOOD COLLECTION OF CARDBOARD BOXES?
It's not like I have an unlimited supply of boxes, you know. It's not like I have a room stuffed to the ceilin' with so many boxes that I could never possibly use all of them in all my nine lives.
I NEEDED THOSE BOXES.
I still do. *sniffs*
'Cept now... Well now they're no longer boxes, are they. *sniffs* Now they're just flat pieces of cardboard paper stuffed in a blue bag, never to be enjoyed by a cat like me, again. *sniff sniff*
OH THE TRAGEDY OF IT ALL!
If I weren't so distraught by this whole affair, I'd call up the RCMP, pronto, and make a complaint, askin' for charges to be laid. But seein' those beautiful boxes chopped up into bits and pieces before bein' hauled to the curb has left me in a desperate state of despair.
I'VE BEEN ROBBED!
Okay, so I said that before but seriously, I have, and it's worth sayin' once more.
I'VE BEEN ROBBED!
What's that? What's that, Peepers? What's that you're babblin' on about now?
NOT that I'm speaking to you or anythin' like that, Peepers. But say what you must. and then I'LL DECIDE whether I'll listen or not. Once I've heard what you've had to say, that is. And let me tell you somethin', you stupid ol' peep, your apology had better be good.
You're claimin' the boxes you decimated and destroyed were just the small ones? The ones too little for me to climb inside?
THAT A FAT JOKE OR SOMETHIN' THERE, PEEPERS? You makin' fun of my size? 'Cause let me tell ya somethin': it's a well-known fact that we orange cats are what one might call, BIG BONED.
And let me tell you somethin' else. Excuses do not apologies make. An excuse is an excuse and nothin' more. An apology, on the other paw, includes the word sorry, shows some sort of contrition, and contains an ample about of begging (LIKE A DOG) for forgiveness. Plus, an apology should include a promise to never ever commit such an horrific act again, so that I may then smugly inform you how you'd be better off thinkin' before actin', so that you didn't have to beg (LIKE A DOG) for forgiveness in the first place. Or ever again.
You know, that sort of thing.
But so far I'm hearin' nothin' but excuses from you, and...
What? What's that? What's that you're babblin' on about now?
You mean to say there are still two good-sized boxes in the family room at this very moment? Two good-sized boxes that are all totally mine? Two good-sized boxes that are...
They're not chopped up, right? They're both still in one piece? This isn't some kind of cruel and horrible trick?
Well then I think I might be able to find it in my heart to forgive you, Peepers.
BUT DON'T YOU DARE CHOP UP MY BOXES AGAIN.
Remember to mask up, too.