What in the name of Johnny Fuck!?
I bellowed in horror.
Before me, one of our cats waddled past, all but quacking like a duck.
Daddy-Bear, language!?
Admonished the Good Lady, her face puckering up with distaste as if discovering her slippers were woven from dogs arse hair.
Did you see that
I exclaimed, pointing at our lardy cat with disbelief.
What??? Oh... Oh, Shady, are you having trouble with the door. Let me get it for you.
The Good Lady whinnied, trotting over to the door which Shady, with a massive paw, was attempting to open.
She can't open it cos she's a fat bastard.
I said grimly.
Oh, Daddy-Bear. Don't be so mean!?
The Good Lady pulled the door open and we watched as our barrel-like lady cat tried in vain to look sophisticated and mysterious as she hauled her massive hind bits out into the hall.
It's the Corona, isn't it?
I asked with my jaws clenched.
The cats had not been getting out as much since the Virus had struck, I had noticed. I had no idea why, I mean, the back door was always open and that's not a euphemism for naughty canal rides.
As my cat's gargantuan arse slid out of view I mentally spat my imaginary baccy at a non-existent bucket near the sofa and shook my head with a combination of contempt and regret.
She was to fat to live. It hurt to say it but it was true.
With a heavy heart, I realised she would have to go for the long sleep.
There was only one problem. I couldn't possibly go to the vets with all this Corona shit flying around? I mean, trap myself in a tiny room with robed men and probey instruments? No thank you.
I'd have to do it myself.
Oh well, who said being a man was all hookers and blow?
I nodded resolutely, gazing off into a distance only I could see. A distance where the bodies of my slaughtered for their own good loved ones lay around me like crudely hacked logs.
What will be will be.
I turned my attention back to the matter at hand.
The cat. The cat who was fat.
How would I tackle the humane slaughter to come?
An idea came quickly.
I could shoulder charge her from the side in the garden and once she crashed to the floor, gut her like a fish, as if it were that bit in Empire Strikes Back where somebody cuts open a Snow-Kangaroo's belly and sheltered in its guts to avoid freezing to death in a blizzard.
Yeah, exactly like that only with more blood but less lightsabres, snow and sheltering.
My face shimmied like the fat on an under-nipple as I recalled the hippopotamus-like exit of one of my once loved cat from the room
It hurt but it would have to be done.
Suffer not a fat cat to live they say.
Damn. This Coronavirus will leave scars on us all.