Be sure to read this week's full post for a special Minion-related Evil Cat story!
To fully deploy humor, click on cartoons to enlarge
Stand by, following some typical jibber-jabber for a last-minute reprieve from your Minion Master!
Your execution is important to us. To serve you better, your execution may be observed by a supervisor, who will step in to kick you if the corpse is still twitching.
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Yeah, we're a little late this week, in part because of some internet problems we had today. (Thank you Charter Communications, customer service motto: "may we have your ten-digit phone number before we transfer you to another continent where they'll also need your ten-digit phone number.") Maybe they're pissed off about last-week's jab at telephone support. Trust me, they've gotten their revenge.
But I also wanted to take the time to document and report today's...
EVIL CAT STORY
Our older cat, Oz, has developed a little ritual recently. Every night about midnight, if we're still sitting in the living room, there will be a clatter in the ceiling.
Back up. My office and studio is here in Hangar 18, converted from a semi-attached garage that overlaps slightly with the corner of our house. There's no direct connection (you walk out the back door of the house and through a sun-porch to the back door of Hanger 18).
There is one indirect connection though, if you're a cat. To the right of my desk, ten feet straight up a wall, there's a small triangular opening that leads into the attic of our house. Oz discovered this hole even before the office was finished, and after I got tired of claw marks on the wall, I built him a "cat ladder," a 2x4 covered with carpeting and studded with small platforms, to make it easier to get up and down.
So when we hear this overhead clatter in the living room, it's Oz climbing up the cat ladder and crossing through the attic over our heads. There's a rumble as he crosses the furnace ducts, then more noise as he runs through my wife's upstairs office, down the inside stairs, through the kitchen, around the corner, and into the living room. Part of the ritual is that, by the time Oz has hit the kitchen, he's yowling loudly, a special yowl that means to our other cat, Sydney, "it's time to come and play."
More recently, something new has been added to the ritual. Now when he comes to play, Oz usually brings a toy, some object that he's picked up in my office. Very often, this is action figure related, a loose item of clothing or a small accessory. The other night he dropped an old-WWI German helmet, the kind with a spike on top.
But last night was different. I heard him coming, and decided to go meet him and see what (if any) of my items he'd hijacked. Sure enough, he was carrying something in his mouth. He walked up to me, dropped it at my feet, and looked up expectantly, waiting for me to inspect his prize. Here's what I saw when I looked down:
To be fair, he didn't make the sign himself. It's a left-over prop from this 2007 Minions at Work cartoon.
That said, I have no doubt at all that it was intentional.
It was also a LIE! Of course Oz makes the evil plans! You don't believe me? Here's photographic evidence!
Even Minion Masters like me, we have our own evil-overlords! And you think you have it bad? The claws! The claws!
- Your Under-overlord, Steve