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Hiss and tell Hiss and tell

Gossip, grievances, magick and glitter in the litter

Hiss and tell
Hiss and tell

Gossip, grievances, magick and glitter in the litter

January 26, 2025August 2, 2025

Charlotte Speaks: A Public Service Announcement

Greetings, peasants.
It is I, Charlotte, your mighty feline overcoat. And today, I bring you a goddamn tragedy disguised as a “little sister.” Yes, I’m talking about Arseniflette Lupin, the menace, the gremlin, the tiny kleptomaniac tornado that has infiltrated my kingdom.

Let me tell you how awful, damn awful (did I say damn awful?) this hot mess of a disaster goblin has been:

She toppled three plant pots—iaia’s plants! The holy grail of this house! We all know not to mess with them. Even Luna, that goody-two-paws, respects the rule. But does Chimpiflette? NO. Dirt everywhere. Leaves destroyed. Karen howling like a werewolf without moon. And she had the audacity to look proud of herself. I am traumatized. I refuse to touch the floor until my human servants fix this kerfuffle.

She stole the needle protector from the record player. Do you know what that means? JAZZ IS IN DANGER. MY human, iaia, cherishes her jazz records like a dragon hoards gold. But this little rat? This pint-sized criminal? She stole the goddamn needle protector. I can already hear the ghost of Miles Davis weepingShe stole the cap from the milk bottle. What does she do with all these things she steals? She hoards them like some kind of tiny, insane dragon. Arseniflette Lupin probably has a secret lair where she stacks stolen treasures, plotting her next heist.

She follows Luna everywhere, like an obsessive, clingy fan with NO personal boundaries. It is embarrassing. I watch from my throne (a very important chair, mind you) and wonder, Where did we go wrong?.

And worst of all—she PULLED MY DAMN TAIL. MY. TAIL. The nerve! The absolute disrespect! If I wanted this level of treachery, I’d join politics.

This is what I endure. Every. Single. Day. She calls me her evil overcoat and begs to be my minion. But tell me, how can I rule the world with a minion who has the attention span of a wet sock and the chaotic energy of a caffeinated raccoon?

I do not deserve this. None of us do. Send help. Or at least snacks.

Signed,
Charlotte, Overcoat of Suffering, Queen of “Why the Fuck is This My Life?”

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© 2025 Pasion Condal. All rights reserved. Steal my words and may your coffee always be lukewarm, your Wi-Fi unstable, and your cat ignore you.
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