cat named pig

I know, I know. Two loooonnng posts about death and it’s only Tuesday. Time to lighten things up around here. In the interest of which, I present to you: Elliot’s Inner Monologue From Earlier Tonight. (As interpreted by me, after careful observation of him while on the phone with Katie, who lives far away and thus deserves my undivided attention but has to settle for most of it, some of the time.)

Elliot: I want something to play with. I want the most fun thing in the world. I want MONEY! Money to play with. Clinky, clinky coins. SHINY MONEY. Yes. To put in things. I will put it in the animal hospital toy, and then in Mama’s boots. I will lose one money, one beautiful shiny money lost in Mama’s boot–

[Out loud]: “OH, NO! NO, MONEY!”

Mama [holds boot upside down, shakes, feels around inside]: Nope, no money. Sorry, Bud.”

Elliot: “WHY-EE?!?”

Inner Monologue: WHY? WHY, when I put the money, nice shiny money in Mama’s boot, why does it not come out? In is no good without out. WHERE CAN I PUT MONEY AND HAVE IT COME OUT? Ahh. . . yes. My shirt. In between the buttons of the shirt, cold money on my belly — hee hee — and then stand up and OUT! YES! Fantastic. Do it again. Cold on the belly and OUT! This is great! Again! . . . .

[Continues in this vein for quite some time -- long enough for Mama and Katie to discuss a number of important topics, including why we don't all live in Spain and how we totally need a lifestyle built around a daily siesta.]

. . . . Great! Fun! Money in shirt, stand up, money out! All over the floor! Awesome! Fantast–BORED. BORED of this, dying of boredom, dying, dying, lying on the floor dying, BORED TO DEATH. I need attention. NOW. MAMAAAAAAAAAAAA! Mama, I need you right now, right this second — get off the phone and play with MEEEE–Whoa. Mr. Potato Head. You’re a crazy looking dude. Why so crazy looking? Let’s change your face.

The End.