For the last few weeks the boy has had a recurring role in our living room saga as a cat with multiple personalities.
Sometimes, he's a good little kitty who is snuggly and helpful, and sometimes he's a naughty little kitty who rains down brutal terror from the sky.
Today, he is terror kitty from hell!
That means pain for me...lots of pain! Pain in the head. Pain the stomach. The legs. The ass. Just pain everywhere!
When the boy is playing as hell kitty, he insists on climbing all over me and jumping on me and screeching his meows in my face. Basically, he just beats the crap out of me the whole time.
Normally, all this might be cute and endearing because it's fleeting. I mean, he can't be hell kitty all the time. He's got to be a nice kitty at least once in awhile...Well, that's what I so wrongly assumed before this morning anyway.
Apparently, Pizzly has more than enough stamina to keep his bad kitty act going all morning or maybe even day. I tell you. The boy's got determination!
He's scrambled around on all fours for hours, and he would still be at it except for the fact that he fell asleep just a few minutes ago, following a massive kitty cat tantrum.
I guess I made hell kitty angry by telling him that if he wanted a drink of water he had to use a glass and not the dog/cat water bowl, which is disgusting.
Of course, that resulted in hell kitty chasing me down, tripping me up (just like our real cat, the stupid, worthless one, has done before), and then pummeling me while screaming at the top of his lungs.
Luckily, he conked out pretty quickly.
Otherwise, hell kitty might have driven me insane.