Just like last year, Her Royal Highness and I are sharing meal prep duties while My Rare One is away. Actually, HRH rather fancies herself as a gourmet cook and has made outrageous promises about the delicious meals she'll be serving. Pretty big talk for a little cat, I say.
Anyway, her friend Gordon came over today to be her sous-chef in the kitchen while she cooked. Who knows where she meets these people?
Gordon seems like a nice enough guy but he does have a bit of an anger management problem. And he swears like you wouldn't believe. Always dropping the F-bomb. It's a good thing that HRH is no slouch in that department. In fact, she is more than a match for him.
So . . . things started off well enough. But inevitably, the bickering began. Two temperamental chefs in the kitchen is NOT a good idea.
Eventually, of course, it all degenerated into flying fur, razor-sharp claws and blue air. Gordon narrowly escaped leaving with a cleaver in his back. The last words out of him were that we would be hearing from his "fuckin' lawyers." Pffft! Wuss.