"THE DAMNED CAT PEED IN THE KITCHEN AGAIN!" Uncle yells, pulling at the prayer cap on his head. The already disheveled head-piece threatens to comically fall off entirely. 

Tissues are thrown at the offending puddle of yellow: the cheap kind, you find between dinner plates at wedding dinners. Pink, purple, pink again...until they have soaked up most of the pee. 

Then comes the anti-bacterial liquid. Lemon and lavender to erase the smell. 

More tissues. More wiping. 

Uncle yells at Jax until he hisses off upstairs. A cloud of black fur flouncing off; likely plotting his next poopy revenge.

"So your cat sometimes acts potty trained?" the Vet asked, "might mean he's doing it on purpose, could also mean that he has...behavioral issues." 

"You mean he's an asshole? basically?" 

"Basically." 

...

"The damned cat has run off!" Uncle announces, the minute we arrive home. 

Shahrukh calmly continues to unload grocery from the car trunk. Two large bags of imported cat food for The Asshole are visible through plastic bags. 

"Well that is worrisome." he drawls, "who's gonna eat all this cat food now?" 

"He can't live on his own." Uncle's hands are wringing themselves.

"Affirmative."

"He is too domesticated."

"Yep. No cattish instincts whatsoever."

"He got beat up by a stray kitten once."

"He's a disgrace to his species." 

"FOR GOD'S SAKE FIND THAT DAMNED CAT!" 

"He's right behind you, pooping on the linoleum."

Word Count: 225

Inspired by the damned cat I live with. 

We know, that you know, that we know that you're an ass on purpose Jax. 

Drop it. (In the litter-box FFS!)