How’s this for unfair? The Bipeds cooked this dinner last night that smelled like it should be mine. Very meaty, the aroma was all over the house. But did I get any?

Hell no.

The woman looks down at me and apologizes, saying that if I ate any in ten minutes I’d have flames shooting out my ass.

So what?

I don’t know what onions are and I don’t care, but goddammit if you’re going to cook something that smells like that, you better give me some. I mean it. Next time, you better give me some, or I really am going to poop on your pillow.

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