With the holidays upon us, I asked my cat, Stella, what she thinks of carolers. It went about as expected.
Hey Stella, what do you think about caroling?
Is that when the neighbors attack us?
They don’t attack us, Stella.
Waltzing up the front walk, howling and screeching, displaying TEETH — that’s apex-predator behavior right there.
That’s caroling, Stella. And you weren’t very nice last year, if I remember.
I saw Mr. Henderson’s MOLARS. It’s game on when you show a cat a molar.
They were just being friendly. It’s called Christmas cheer.
Hard to feel cheerful when you’re gazing into the abyss of Mr. Henderson’s gaping maw.
Can you stop with Mr. Henderson? He’s a nice man.
I think he has a second row of teeth. One right behind the other, like a shark. Or a manatee.
Anyway, you were very rude. They were even trying to give you candy canes.
You mean the steel batons disguised as candy canes? The batons they were going to STRIKE me with?
No, I mean the candy canes they were trying to give you because I told the neighbors you love to play with candy canes.
You told them I love to play with candy canes?
They asked what they could bring you.
Huh. And I suppose by singing We Three Kings they weren’t issuing a proclamation that they were going to take the house and throw us to the wolves?
Is that what you thought?
Have you heard the lyrics? It’s practically a battle cry.
I hate to break it to you, Stella, but caroling is about spreading joy, not threats.
Then somebody get Mr. Henderson a voice coach. He wouldn’t last a day caroling on the Serengeti.
I think he has a fine voice. In fact, the neighbors asked me to join them this year.
As what? Weapons holder?
As a fellow caroler.
Seems about right. When you sing in the shower I have flashbacks of fighting hyenas.
You’ve never fought a hyena.
I’ve thought about it a lot, though.
So you think I have a bad voice? Is that what you’re saying?
I don’t know. Sing something.
Fine, I will. ‘Cause it’s a thriller, thriller nigh —
OH, PLEASE STOP!
What? Is my voice that bad?
THAT’S what you choose to sing?
What’s wrong with Thriller?
You’re a middle-aged guy talking to a cat. Don’t add singing Thriller to the list.
Well, I was going to ask you to join us, but you seem to have the wrong idea about caroling.
Me? In the brigade?
Not a brigade.
Fine — platoon, mob, posse, whatever.
We’re just carolers. Go with “group.”
Can we at least be a squad? Seems like we’re missing an opportunity here.
Do you want to go or not, Stella?
That depends. Are there carols that don’t sound like they’ve been covered in dust for a century?
How do you mean?
Did AC/DC write any carols?
You know, maybe you shouldn’t go. It could get a bit nasty out there, what with all the attacking and whatnot.
You might be right. That Bulldog up the street is going to make a mess of you once he gets a load of Mr. Henderson’s molars. You should put him in back.
Don’t worry, he’ll take up the rear.
If you need to talk any more strategy, I’m here. I’ve watched a TON of Nat Geo.
I know you have, Stell.
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