I have stretched, taking my time, after a good sleep. I always rest better after a kill. And today, I performed a state-of-the-art assassination in the cellar. I didn’t know my victim.
He happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Poor guy. Never saw me coming after him. He was focused on an old newspaper when I jumped from behind and trapped him.
I must confess that I played with him for a while to make him suffer before I struck him fatally.
I don’t like the bloody part of the show too much. It’s too messy and dirty.
But then, after I cleaned the scene of the murder to leave no trace of what had happened there, I went to show proof of my job done to the woman who hired me. As always, she began to scream at the sight of the corpse. So ungrateful. As if she didn’t know what I was doing down in the cellar! She must show more respect for my work. Next time, I’m not going to clean up the blood and leave it to her.
Now is time for my nightly walk on my domains. Everything is under control. No undesirable creatures wander around. I can calmly walk through the hallways and rooms. Entering the bedrooms without anyone noticing and licking the inert hands of the sleeping giants until I laugh at their faces that, in the middle of their dreams, don’t scare anyone.
I like to entertain myself with shelves full of books or go out to sing to the moon.
It’s my kingdom; I’m the king, and I do what I want. It’s lucky to have been born a cat.