Raisintail shivered. "It is COLD! It is COLD! La la LA! La la LA!" She sang, trying to warm her freezing lungs. Suddenly the fat cat appeared. He was wearing a black tux with a red bow tie. "Hello, my lady." He said, unrolling something that smelled delicious from a shiny metal thing.
Oh so I'm his girlfriend now. Ok.
"What is this?" She asked as she sniffed at the package.
"I brought us some fancy food. It's salmon, with lemon juice over the top and a few other spices. There's tuna as well, on the side. For our beverages I brought tuna-juice." The tux cat said.
"Yum," Raisintail said, licking her lips. "Delicious!" As the cat finished unwrapping the food she lunged forward- just to be blocked by the kitty-pet.
"NO!" He said. "Ok, I'm sorry, but it's not on the plate yet." He paused, placing thin slices of fish on each plate. "Do you know how to use a fork?"
"A WHAT?"
"A fork. It's a shiny silver utensil used for eating."
"Oh. Well in that case, no, I don't."
The tom sighed. He placed the plate in front of her and she dug in, despite his comments of how most she-cats he knew used forks.
"I DON'T CARE WHO USES FORKS BECAUSE I DON'T. K?"
Their departing scene was normal. Raisintail said bye and he said bye. That night she went to bed with an odd feeling in her stomach. One she couldn't explain.