The Cat was smoking my last bit of tobacco when I finally got home.

‘You old bastard!’ I cried. ‘Have you dealt with the mice yet?’

This was the last thing I needed. My client’s story didn’t add up. I felt certain we would lose the case.

It smoked nonchalantly.

‘No,’ it said. ‘Have you?’

‘Me? It’s not my fucking job!’

‘God, you’re so old-fashioned; such an antiquated view of division of labour.’

‘Gimme that!’ I shouted, grabbing the fag from the cat’s overly moist mouth. Snatching the snout jolted the cat. It spluttered into a phlegmy cough. Finally it ceased.

‘You got any food?’ it asked.

A mouse scurried across the floor.

Story from “The Last Thing Anyone Needs Is A Dribbling Crisis (And Other Small Talk)” by Ed Spencer. Coming very, very soon…

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