The cat's got my tongue...

Good evening minions.

This is your ever omnipotent dark lord of the universe, Maximus, speaking.

I feel the time has come for me to voice my concern over recent events in the household and since no one in seems to be listening to a damn word I meow around here, I felt it was time to go public, vent my outrage and frustration as it were at the atrocities occurring within my very own domestic sphere.

But I have limited time. One of the humans may enter at any moment as the bindings were not that tight (there is only so much one can achieve with no thumbs).

It appears we have rodents, in fact we are positively INFESTED with the damn things (well there are at least two of them), but no one is lifting a single finger to do anything about them! I know I know, the health risks of vermin are terrible (preaching to the converted here) but it seems my humans care not a jot. In fact I feel they are even encouraging the little perpetrators’ presence!

I'll give them credit, the invasion did appear sudden (and hell only knows they scared the bejesus out of me when I first saw them) but it’s been over three weeks now for Cleo’s sake and they’re not even trying.

No traps have been set, nothing.

At first I thought perhaps the humans were simply afraid of the newcomers and did not know how to approach the situation. But the more I observe through the flywire the less I like what I see.

They’re into everything, including everything of MINE. They were on my climbing frame yesterday (the fact I rarely even acknowledge its presence is irrelevant, it’s still MINE). Armchairs: MINE, table chairs: MINE, table in the bedroom all MINE, MINE, MINE!

And they’re infesting the lot of it.

Even my own human ponged of the rank midgets the other day.

It seems all three infidels have succumbed to the intruders’ mind melding techniques, even the tallest one (he appears to be the Tom of the house) has been spotted cooing over the little whiskered wormballs. Though he has been somewhat of a suck up at the moment, he is simply not doing his job. He is just not home enough to instil the discipline and pest control this place so obviously needs.

It’s just not on.

And the little thugs are clearly illiterate, they cannot even understand basic hiss! I bare fangs and voice my staunch disgruntlement and all they do is look at me like I'm speaking dog. I would have thought “Sod off you flea ridden, daughters of Hades” would have been comprehendible in any language, but apparently not....

Argh, I all just too much....I feel I may need my smelling salts

*from elsewhere in the house*: “Max?”

Curses, the thumbed ones have escaped.

“MAX?! Where ARE you?!.....Oh My God! Get off there!!”

Shit...now I really gotta argh..aflqqawfsfbnv,n,m, *publish* ljkadjasbv!

To be continued.....

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