The white cat shook its paw at me. “Gimme your money,” it said.
“No! I already gave you enough for a dumpling.”I retorted back.
“That wasn’t nearly enough; I’m still hungry.” The cat rubbed its belly. “Hungggryy…”
I walked away, but the cat tailed behind. “Meow. I said meow, what else could you want?”
“Go away cat you’re ruining my feng shui.” And indeed it was, because I felt as though my transparent presence were fading. I pulled both of my feet into the air and flew away.
“Meow,” the cat complained, in a low, gruff, not very cute voice. Which, sounded so uncute, that it was kinda cute, if that makes any sense.
I couldn’t fly very far because I hadn’t gotten my license yet, so I reluctantly returned to the ground.
“You don’t need your money if you’re dead,” the cat persisted.
“Yes I do shut up how am I supposed to afford the exotic goods in Ghost Town? I want to buy the next generation of technology stuff.”
“You should buy me a new cell phone, my old one broke when I dropped it into space,” the cat said, for it had learned the hard way that cell phones don’t receive reception in space unless he paid the phone company extra.
“I will buy you a new religion.”
“I still have my old one, thank you very much,” the cat said. It opened its inventory with Ctrl+I (it runs Windows), and pulled out a mouse. “It tastes real, and lasts really long.”
Fed up with the cat’s persistent antiques, I held my breath and teleported away. Wheeeee, I thought, because teleporting makes me feel very high.