Cat-App

            The fat cat sat on the purple recliner, the one in which he commandeered from his owner weeks before. He didn’t even flinch when Kevin burst through the front door. “Lisa,” he shouted. “Lisa, I’ve got it! I think it’s finally ready!”

            Kevin’s girlfriend hurried into the living room. “What is it? What have you got? What’s finally ready?”

            “My Cat-App! I think it’s finally ready to test out.”

            “Your Cat-App?”

            “Yes! My Cat-App. You know, the program I’ve been working on for the past nine months. Remember—the App for your Smartphone that allows you to hear what your cat is thinking.”

            “Oh, that Cat-App. How does it work?”

            “It’s super simple. You just put this special collar on your cat…” Kevin pulled a small electric band from his pocket and wrapped it around his fat cat’s neck, “…and then you download the App, in this case, already downloaded…” he held up his Smartphone, “...and you just listen. I think…”

            “Boy, could I eat right now,” came a robotic sounding voice from the phone’s speaker. “But then I’d have to move. I’ll eat later.”

            “Oh my God!” Lisa squealed. “Is that Fluffy? Is that what Fluffy is thinking right now?”

            “Yes. At least I think so.”

            “How does it work? I mean, how did you do this?”

            “Well, I could spend the next eight hours trying to explain it to you, which you still wouldn’t understand, or we can just listen to what Fluffy is thinking.”

            “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

            “Yeah,” the robotic voice said, “you don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

            “Oh my God!” Lisa shrieked. “It works! It definitely works!”

            “What the hell is fatty so excited about?” The phone said.

            “Did he just call me ‘Fatty’?”

            “Yeah, I just called you Fatty. Wait, can you understand what I’m saying?”

            “Yes!” Kevin shouted. “Yes, we can understand you! Can you understand us?”

            “Of course,” said the phone. “What? Do you think I’m stupid or something?”

            “Oh my God!” Lisa yelped. “You must have so many questions for us.”

            “I suppose I have a few,” the phone said as Fluffy yawned. “First of all: you, yeah you, the tall, ugly one, you used to feed me four healthy portions of food each day but lately you’ve only been feeding me three. What’s the deal with that?”

            “Well,” Kevin answered. “The veterinarian said that you had pre-feline diabetes and recommended that I don’t give you as much food.”

            “Is this a fucking joke? I’m a fucking cat. What the fuck do I care about pre-feline diabetes?”

            Lisa’s eyes lit up. “Did he just swear?”

            Kevin picked up his Smartphone and shook it. “Maybe it’s malfunctioning.”

            “It’s not fucking malfunctioning, you idiot,” the phone said.

            “Is this some sort of joke?” Lisa asked.

            “Here’s another question,” the phone said, “You used to let me outside all the time—whenever I howled by the door—but lately you don’t ever let me out anymore. What’s the deal with that?”

            “Well,” Kevin responded, “you brought fleas into the house, so the veterinarian recommended that you stay inside from now on.”

            “But what about my girlfriend?” the phone said. “You didn’t consider her, did you?”

            “Your girlfriend?” Lisa asked.

            “Yeah, that sweet piece of ass three doors down. You know, with the orange and white coat.”

            “Well,” Kevin replied, “I’m sorry about that, but like I said, you brought fleas into the house…”

            “I didn’t imprison you when you brought crabs into the house, did I?”

            “Crabs?” Kevin asked in disbelief.

            “Yeah, the ones you got from that girlfriend of yours.”
            “I don’t have crabs!” Lisa shouted.

            “Not you,” said the phone. “His other girlfriend.”

            “Other girlfriend?” Lisa frowned.

            “Yeah, the one that only comes around when you’re at work.”

            Lisa glared at Kevin.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Kevin declared.

“Sure you do, stupid,” the phone said. “The short blonde, the one with the pig nose.”

Kevin grabbed for the collar. “This thing obviously doesn’t work.”

“Don’t bother.” Lisa grabbed her purse and headed towards the door. “I don’t ever want to see you again, you cheating piece of shit.” She slammed the door on her way out.

“Why did you do that?” Kevin fell to his knees. “I’ve never cheated on Lisa! Why would you make something like that up?”

“Why would you stop feeding me four scoops of food?” the phone asked.

“Seriously?” Kevin cried. “You ruined my life over a scoop of food. Why, Fluffy, why?”

“That’s another thing you pussy, why do you call me ‘Fluffy’? Was Whiskers already taken or something?”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you doing this? You’ve got to tell her the truth.” Kevin fell to his knees. “I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“I want unlimited food.”

“Done. Whatever you want.”

“I want you to build a cat-door so I can come and go whenever I please.”

“I’ll do it tonight.”

“And…”

“And what?” Kevin cried. “And what?”

“I want you to scratch my neck whenever I feel like it. Like right now. Get over here and scratch my neck.”

Kevin crawled towards Fluffy and scratched his neck.

“That’s it,” the phone said. “Scratch me. Scratch me real good. Who’s my pussy?”

“I’m your pussy,” Kevin yelped. “I’m your pussy…”

“Yes you are,” the fat cat smiled. “Yes, yes you are.”