I had been prepared for a simple morning, ready to delve into boxes full of items I was itching to begin working on and immerse myself into new projects. The vampire I had mistaken for a human and nearly missed my chance to eliminate had been far too prominent in my thoughts. The artifacts and objects I'd procured for the shop were supposed to be a distraction â€" one I'd looked forward to enough that I'd decided I would go to the shop and begin work. With just my luck, a giant cat-man had been located in said boxes, rifling around in the products they had housed. What the actual fuck... Weren't there laws against things like that? ...Could weres even read, let alone did they comply with human law? Maybe supernatural beings didn't need to bother with mere human laws, and if that was the case... Why the fuck didn't I get the memo? The giant cat-man was comical enough that I hadn't bothered getting an attitude, and my surprising humor staying as good, much to my growing surprise. I had been surprised that the man was in my boxes to begin with, but only pleasantly surprised when he took so kindly to my crinkly offering.

If the ball was good enough for Church, my incredibly ill-mannered and horrendously stereotypical feline, then perhaps it was deemed good for all of felinity... I could only cross my arms and lean on one hip, observing the great, wild, giant man-cat fester around in the boxes, searching for his crinkly prey.

You have to admit: if work was inevitable, at least a show was a nice treat. Even if the fucker was generating more work.

After a solid several minutes of enjoying his prey, the giant cat-man seemed to remember he was being watched and that unfortunately for him, his humanity was showing. The very obviously feline eyes of his lost their cat-like golden color before morphing back to their human chocolate color. It always fascinated me, watching changes. Besides seeing something that you would never even fathom had you not met a were before, it was like watching something unnatural that almost made your bones hurt, watching theirs change so quickly. Then again, it was fucking badass as you could get.

"I'm pretty sure my cat won't mind. He has a horde of those things, and he is a gracious little feline." Oh, the irony. I'm pretty sure I've never met a generous or gracious feline, unless int included sharing a VIP view of their butt. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that doesn't qualify, either. Once the man gave me a once over, and deemed me worthy enough of his physical presence, his head was gracefully plopped on my feet while he assumed the hedonistic pose of every feline that only exuded one thing: you must pet me, because I require attention immediately, but only so long as I desire it.

I'm supposed to pat his paws? Would you look at that, a cat requiring attention. I have to admit, I'd had many conversations with Church that were one-sided, save for his indignant meows that a peasant like me attempt to speak to him. But talking with giant man-cat? That was pretty good. I almost wished I had smoked the blunt that was sitting on my coffee table without me before heading into work, because I would have been so into this. What a fucking dream- being stoned, and a talking half man half cat. I shrugged amiably, showing that I was in good faith going to, just as he asked, pat his paws. Gently reaching for them, I knelt beside him to attempt to please giant man-cat in a way that Church had primed me for.

Who the fuck would have thought: humans on this earth created to please these fluffy creatures. Once the man had fully shifted, I sat beside him to continue rubbing his paws as it was really quite the humorous situation, and something entirely unexpected or planned. Who said plans were good, anyway? Reasonable assessment of the situation said I was going to be pissed later when I didn't have enough time to work on my projects, but fuck it. His paws were pretty fucking fluffy.

"Good job growing your fur, nicely done," I complimented, humor seeping through my voice. "I am honored at your most generous statement, however this is my shop so you're pretty much stuck with that."

Humoring the now luxuriously lounging feline in front of me, I went back to rubbing his paws and highly debating whether or not I wanted to flick the crinkly ball and see him go flouncing off for it. Once my curiosity got the better of me, I reached for it while continuing the petting with one hand so he would suspect nothing and flicked it as far as I could, hoping that the pounce that was imminent was going to be as humorous as watching packing peanuts go flying at the hands of the giant man-cat.