May 6, 2016-I went to the internet machine and Googled the word, Marriage, on the interwebs. Yuck. According to something called Wikipedia, Marriage, also called matrimony or wedlock, is a socially or ritually recognized union or legal contract between spouses that establishes rights and obligations between them, between them and their children, and between them and their in-laws, as well as society in general.
Wed-lock…sounds like another name for a prison…hmm. My question is why the hell would anyone agree to a legal contract that outlines rights and obligations of someone, (especially with someone called in-laws…sounds scary) aren’t stupid humans smarter than that? Perhaps I just answered my own question…Anyway, back to the task at hand; Now that I knew what a marriage was, I knew what Simba was up to for sure. He was going to hijack the catering truck and consume all of the delicacies himself and distribute them among his hired minions! Not on my watch! If he was going to get delicious meats and cheeses so was I, he would NOT stop me…NO ONE would stop me! I would allow him to execute his feeble plan and then I’d swoop down at the last minute and take charge…this is how proper villains work- they allow others to do the work and then take all the glory.
According to the map I found the marriage would take place tomorrow just, a few houses down from the prison. This was especially fortuitous because I would no longer have to rent an armoured car to get there. Since the warden and the large, stupid human were at their laborious jobs, I had all the time in the world to do my detective work…apparently you can have anything and I mean ANYTHING delivered right to your door. I ordered many things; a new scratching post, a box of delectable treats, a machete, rope, night vision goggles, and a delightful mask to hide my identity! Oh and fourteen bags of catnip…for the after party of course. I rubbed my paws together and waited for something called AMAZON to arrive.
May 5, 2016-It was finally time for the hell hound to go home. I had been consumed by taking over Simba’s plan that I left the poor mutt alone for his duration at the prison. A bit of regret washed over me that I had not made his stay more unbearable.
His stupid humans collected him and the transfer was complete. I was glad to see him leave, there were other things that needed my immediate attention. I had much work to do with getting ready for the hostile takeover; I needed to gather supplies and I also needed to draw a map. This would be particularly difficult because I do not have opposable thumbs but nonetheless I would manage somehow. This evening would be the perfect opportunity to venture out into freedom! I would survey the outdoor compound for clues about Simba’s plan. Hopefully there was some sort of directions to the place, I could take a picture of it in my mind’s eye to be more prepared for the actual event and then I would transfer the image to paper and work from a set of plans. This had to be perfect.
The warden and the large, stupid human were out at their jobs, I assumed that they were gathering monies to buy feed for us …they must not be paid much because the food here is bland and tasteless. I went to the basement and climbed onto the shelf, I entered the secret corridor and retraced my steps from the evening before. I reached the end but there was no light-only slivers…had I gone in the wrong direction? I could not seem to get my bearings, I felt around in the darkness and suddenly brushed up against something with my foot. I picked it up and carried it back down the corridor to the shelf; I sat down still puzzled at the barrier that now stood between freedom and me.
I looked at the paperwork that I had collected and this is how it read, “Celebrate our marriage with us! Black tie reception to be held at…” I needed to find out what a marriage was, but one thing I did know, was that this was what Simba had named, Operation Luigi and that I was thankful that I owned a black tie.