Make Mine Mike

I think my fiancée Adelphia’s jealous.

Even though we’ve loved living together for almost a year at our cozy apartment, we’ve encountered a small problem. There’s been someone else. Another certain female has been vying for my attention, enticing me leave our happy little home every night.

Our neighbor’s cat, Maggie.

She likes to lurk around our patio, looking for food. I never feed the feline furball, but she’s smelling the peanuts that the squirrels Hamas and Fatah hide in Adelphia’s flower pots. Since Maggie belongs to the landlady, I try to tolerate our uninvited guest as she begs for attention. Of course, ten seconds after allowing me to pet her, she hightails it outta there.

This has been going on for a while now. Over time, the cat’s taken a liking to me, as short-lived as it may be, but not so much my fiancée. So when Adelphia are hanging out in our living room at night, she gets bemused as we’ll hear a jingle from the cat’s collar.

“Maggie’s here for you,” Adelphia says, smirking. “That little whore.” Then she does an imitation that cracks me up, talking in a feline floozy voice: “Ring a ding dinnnng! Can Michael come out and playyyy?”

As I step out to placate the pussycat, I tell Adelphia, I swear, it means nothing, and I’m thinking about her the whole time.