March 30th, 2009


Fluffy grey pwnage.

Me: I have food. I have a book. I do not, however, have a place in which to make use of them. Woe is me!
Ember: I am a sleeping cat.
Me: Yes. I have noticed that. I'm going to move you now, because I want your spot.
Ember: (being reasonable) But there are many other spots where you could sit.
Me: Yes, but I want that spot. It's convenient.
Ember: Yes, it is. Which is why I'm already here, and you aren't.
Me: You do realize just how easy it would be for me to pick you up and move you. You can't fool me with that cat gravity thing any more.
Ember: Yes, but you are quite aware of what happens when you attempt to move me when I do not wish to be moved. You do recall the extreme unpleasantness of my reaction. Right?
Me: But....
Ember: Would you like me to make those most displeased noises that let you know We Are Not Amused?
Me: ...ah...
Ember: And don't you forget who, exactly, it was who taught you the Look of Death (TM).
Me: ...
Ember: (pointed look) Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea on your part?
Me: ...
Ember: (smugly) What's the matter? Am I preventing your lingual apparatus from functioning properly?
Me: (hastily retreating into clearing another spot off the table)

And thus it was that I was summarily reminded of my place within this household.

Context is QWP and is going to go sit way over there now.