While visiting my sister, I asked her cat Patchy Patch if she would like to be my book Vanna.
At first she wasn’t sure this would work for her.
(I’m not looking at anything until I have a signed contract.)
Then she became a little curious.
(My agent said there would be a new squeaky toy. I still don’t see it.)
A little break …
( Oh man. I think I’m having a catnip flashback.)
Then back to work.
(Fine. I’m a professional. I will do this. But if that squeaky toy doesn’t appear, my agent is toast.)
And then, the money shot.
( Are we done now? I have to fire my agent AND buy my own new toy before three. I’m meeting Grumpy for drinks downtown.)
Thanks, Patchy. You’re the best.
( Tell me something I don’t know. Meow.)