"Yeahs. I saw them. Gotta cigarette? Thanks. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I saw those two, the pretentious chubby girl with golden locks and that uppity Duffy Dean. I could take him. He's soft, I tell ya. Pampered. That Sarah gal practically waits on him hand and foot. It's disgusting, youse knows. A cat needs to be on the street. Testing his nerve, grabbing the ladies, waking up the neighbors. It's what we do. In dis neighborhood we'd plant one on his mug. Yup. A pretty boy, I tell ya. Those locks ain't seen a burr in der whole existence. Bet she combs him nightly. She prolly makes him eat vegertarian, or sumpin. Cat's need meat. . .fowl and fish, says I. And don't forget it. Pate and caviar??!! Fugetaboutit. Pansy feast. She prolly paints his claws. . .if he even has any. Prolly why the little dame likes him. I could practically smell the cologne on him from a mile away. He better not come in this area again, or me and my boys will pop him one. Not that he seemed like a bad guy, just needs to toughen up. Ok, is that enough? Where's my dollar?"
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