Yessssssssss I’m a copy cat. Meow.
But how could you NOT be, when the commercial shows an enormo pepperoni pizza, all glossy and majestic, with little individual CHEESE CUPS meant for your dainty, manicured fingers (I’m talking about yours, not mine) to pull away from the pizza, as the cheese strings tempt and taunt and tantalize your salivary glands. How could you not want to be a copy cat?
You know what, I would happily be a copy kitten stuck in a super tall oak tree, with a hunky firefighter climbing a ladder to save my fragile life. Even though as he got closer to me I’d most likely get scared of him and try to scratch his face and then he’d probably react hastily and turn on his high-powered water hose, forgetting that I’m a precious little animal with nothing in my heart but love, minus the scratching incident about two and a half seconds ago. And then the force of the water would send me flying through the air, landing on the roof of some house, next to a chimney, and I’d whimper and sob and muster up some pitiful meows, dripping from head to toe from that stupid water, trembling and clawing the chimney with my dear life. And then people would gather in the streets, looking up at me, and they’d say, “That poor copy kitten! All she wanted to do was make the pizza she saw in the commercial, and that horrible, yet absurdly chiseled firefighter tried to murder her with that Niagara hose!”
And then they’d bring one of those trampolines with the big red dot in the middle to the scene, and they’d start to chant for me, “Jump, copy kitten, jump! You have nine lives, and we love the pizza too, so jump!” And then I’d look around for that a-hole firefighter who got me here in the first place. Because I’m still curious how he gets that 5 o’clock shadow. Is it a certain setting on his razor? Is it natural?
And then I start to gain courage. I can jump onto that trampoline. I can do this. After all, three news stations have made it to the scene by now. Cameras are everywhere. Reporters, children and their parents. Other pets looking at up me with hope in their eyes. I can do this.
I begin to loosen my grip to the chimney, and I start to slide off the house. Not only do I slide, I like, tumble. It’s embarrassing. So not graceful. I hit the stupid water gutter with my tail, and it catapults me into the air, and the people below are moving the trampoline back and forth, predicting my landing. As I’m falling through the air, still wet as a rat, my life flashes before my eyes. I think of my parents. My siblings. My friends. All of my achievements as the copy kitten. And that firefighter’s face. I mean, it has to be Gillette, right? It is the best a man can get.
And just like that, I missed the trampoline and hit the pavement. Splat.
Wait, what was I saying? Oh yeah, this pizza is crazy awesome and yes, crazy obnoxious. Eat it.
Crazy Cheese Crust Pizza on the Tablespoon!
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