There I was, on my way to Primark, when some oaf stepped in my kitten! The foot just went right inside it, with absolutely no regard for manners or the laws of physics. I immediately shouted, "Hey! You! Get the frik out of my kitten! Desist! Desist, I say!" and before I'd even finished – before I'd even started, even – he stepped out of it again. I was just that authoritative. I just radiated a commanding aura, even. Or maybe he was just psychic. Can't be sure with these things.
So, despite this momentary lapse in realism, I continued my quest to buy some top quality designer labels at low, low prices. As I reached for the store, however, some young hoodlum came up and stood in my kitten for a second time! Well, I say young hoodlum now, but at the time it did look a little like a granny; judging by the person's actions, however, it's obvious to me that it was, in fact, a hoodlum in disguise. Anyways, I was just about to fly at her like a can of bricks, when she walked out of my funky feline friend; she even murmured an apology, evidently attempting to keep up the old granny façade. I was amazed: with the likelihood of the only two people in town to stand in my kitten also being psychic being extremely low, I must radiate authoritational* energy. Either that or everyone in town apart from me was psychic – as I said, you can't be sure.
So yes, I had made an incredible discovery – that either people around me automatically do what I want them to, or everyone in town apart from me is psychic – but more important a discovery was that my kitten was in immediate danger of being trodden in! To find out how I could combat Catbeingtroddeninitus, I went to my local veteran. He told me to get stuffed, so I went to my local veterinarian. At first all he had to say was, "Hello," but then he got to the good stuff. He said, "Yes, I know exactly what I can do-do, just put your kitten in that boxicle," (he was a bit strange) and pointed at what looked like a mircowave. "That looks like a microwave," I stated, but "No, it's not," he assured me, and that's okay then. So I put my kitten in the microwave, turned the dial to 30, and hit the on switch. Now, I know what you're thinking; I know how you fuckers think.
Was what came out a charred, thoroughly dead kitten?
T'was a GINORMOUS kitten; with LASERS for eyes; large, wiry ROBOTS for teeth; SCYTHES for claws; instead of fur, it coughed up giant BOWLING balls. And instead of hair, it had fine titanium spikes.
It was just what I'd always wanted.
So, now I'd buffed my cat. But there was still the most perculiar perculiarity: my authoritational energy. I decided that I needed to test these new-found powers. I thought that the best place to start would be with a weak mind, so I popped down to my local PC WORLD.
There did I find a boy with so weak a mind that it was a miricle that the stress of, say, maths, or something, hadn't killed him dead already. So I gallantly approached him, summing up all my integers, and willed him to bow and tremble in awe. He didn't even shiver.
Naturally, this worried me a bit. Just a bit.7
I tried it out on some other weirdos, but the result remained the same. It was evident that no one was psychic, and nor did I radiate authoritational energy. A shame, really. But I was eager to find out: what caused these people to immediately step out of my kitten? T'was a question worthy of the great thinkers of the age, like Jesus, or Mr T.
But, as with all questions – except maybe, "What kind of sick freak puts butter on their toast?" – I finally came to a busy high street.
What if it was the kitten with the authoritational energy? Ahh, that got me mind-tanks goin'! So I pitched my tent on the London high street, and began my experiments.
In my first test, I threw my kitten at a man's face. Nothing interesting happened, but I got some very funny looks, so it was definitely worth it.
Secondly, I tried stepping in the kitten myself. I was, of course, forgetting the titanium spikes. Then I remembered them, but by that point they had sliced my feet clean off. Never fear: I happened to have some Prittstick on my person, so I was able to glue them back on.
Thirdly, for this was getting a bit ridiculous, I decided that my cat was just fucking awesome.
*Yes, learned reader, I make up words. Got a problem? Good, 'cause I don't, so I've got the upper hand! Muaha•.
7A really, really, small bit. Like, this big: •
•Extremely short, evil laugh.