After months to no avail, John, 34, desperate to restore some order to his life, is starting to low-key beg his cat to stop using the hallway as his litter box. 

“Honestly it would be a big deal if this happened every now and again, Mr. Mittens, but you have been shitting in the same spot in the hallway for that last 17 months now and it would be nice maybe not to stand where you crap as I do my laundry. But, don’t get me wrong! I don’t want you to think it’s a problem or that I’m mad or anything. It would just be nice if you stopped please.” 

Meow.

“Look. Last week, HR pulled me into their office last week and they told me that there have been SEVERAL complaints that I always have the faint smell of cat shit on me. That wouldn’t happen if YOU shit in the $300 self-scooper litter box I bought you a year ago, instead of shitting on the carpet and making the whole place reek. If I loose my job, that’s the end of the Pharoh’s Sphyx Wet Cat Food. It will be back to Bitter Brown Bits Kibble. And you will have no one to blame but your fucking self.”

Meow. 

“I swear to God, please just stop and I will let that female stray that’s always in heat on our porch in a couple times a week. I will. I will get you laid. Just please, for the love of Christ, go where you are suppose to. I’d let her live in the house if you wanted! She can have that other cat’s kittens right her on my couch.”

…Meow…Meow.

“Please, I’m beggin’ ya. I’m on the verge of tears. Just please, please…*sniff* fucking please, stop.No date I bring to the apartment wants to stay because of the film of cat shit smell that haunts this apartment and everything in it. I don’t want to die alone. And everyone on my dating apps know me as “the cat shit” guy! *sobbing*

…Meow.

“Fine. Be that way! If you can’t beat’em, join’em. Right?!”

John stands in Mr. Mittens favorite corner and drops his pants down to his ankle and bare feet. 

“Is this what you want?!” 

He begins to squat down and shit on the floor and his piss puddles at his feet.

“Is this what you fucking wanted, Mr. Mittens?!”

John, hysterical, slips face first into the puddle. Trying to recover he falls back into his own crap.

“This is what you’ve fucking done to me! This is where I am because of you!”

Mr. Mittens turns his head to the side, “Get ahold of yourself, John. You look pathetic.” Strolling away with his tails twisting in the air with pleasure at the damage he’s caused to John, both physically and mentally.