Fancy Feast

Has anyone watched those fancy feast videos on youtube? the ones about the couple who fall in love and get married and advertise fancy feast? Yeah. They make me cry. Both from "awww that's just so perfect and cuuute" and "frik why isn't my life that perfect and cute!" I must be pathetic. But I really miss that kind of thing in my life. I want to get married and have babies already. And now I need a fluffy white cat as well, to whom I can feed perfect little tins of fancy feast to. I can see that going awry.

Here's a scenario.

Husband: Good evening wife. I see you're cooking me dinner with your heels and pearls on. There's a good girl. It's very correct to come home from the office in my dark blue suit and leather briefcase to the smell of roast beef. Where's our children?

Me: Playing quietly in the nursery upstairs, darling. Just like every evening. *Dazzling smile* Would you like a drink? Perhaps some bourbon? I have the newspaper right here for you. Sit down, put your expensively-clad feet up. Ah, here's our cat now, just like clockwork. Coming to sit on her master's lap. Remember how romantic it was when you used her as a kitten to propose?

Husband: Yes, yes. You said something about a drink? Fetch it while I stroke the cat and read the paper, would you? There's a good girl.

Me: Yes darling. Please remove your shoes before entering the dining room for dinner; I just had the white carpets cleaned today.

Husband: That drink, dear.

Me: Yes darling. It's just... you don't always remove your shoes and I spend so much time cleaning that it's really quite annoy-

Husband: *clears throat, rustles newspaper, looks meaningfully at the sparkling crystal bottle that the liquor is stored in*

Me: Yes darling. Come kitty, we'll get you your Fancy Feast after I make your master a drink. I cleaned your crystal bowl out for this special day: my wedding anniversary. You must remember the wedding?

Cat: *looking balefully out of perfect green eyes* Mrow.

Me: Yes darling. *pours drink, hands off to husband, opens a can of Fancy Feast chosen from the neat stacks of tins in the cupboard* Here you go kitty. *walks into kitchen* Husband dear, dinner's ready. I made it just the way you like it. The children have already eaten; we'll have this special dinner I prepared for hours all by ourselves.

Husband: Frankly my dear, I'd rather eat Fancy Feast with the cat.

Me: Suit yourself. *Takes a tin of FF, rips open Husband's mouth, and shoves it deep down his throat until the screams become gargles of blood and finally fall silent* Come kitty. You can eat in the dining room with me. *picks up cat and crystal bowl of FF and walks into the next room*.

The end.