Caturday

The city was silent. I had just poured myself a glass of whiskey when I heard a knock at the door. It was this ugly woman looking for her lost cat. I searched everywhere until I saw a man in a black hat and trench coat holding the missing cat in question. "Hand over the pussy, buddy," I said, pulling out my gun. He dropped the cat and disappeared into the night. I poured myself another glass of whiskey. It was just another caturday in this city, and I was already looking forward to tomorrow.