So, earlier, I was getting ready to head out when all of a sudden I hear a wild ruckus. A great thunderous roar echoed from my living room, followed by a great crash; as if someone had plowed a 1967 Mustang through a brick wall. Frantic, and with great trepidation, I throw my papers down and rush out of my office to see what's going on when. Much to my surprise, there's a large Dr. Pepper box running around my living room. It zigged. It zagged. It spun around my coffee table like Mario Andretti on speed at the Indy 500.
Pieces of the floor lamp lay shattered on the tile floor. The bar chairs were flipped nearly upside down. And if that wasn't enough, the poor goldfish, God rest his soul, lay twitching and spazzing out on the carpet. Chaos filled the room from one end to the other.
And still, that mischievous Dr. Pepper box wouldn't give in.
After a pause brief enough to examine the situation, I take a running dive towards the unruly box. In perfect football player fashion, I tackle the the box and pin it to the ground. It struggled ferociously to get away, but I knew I had it. Victorious, I knew that I had tamed the wild box.
As I lay there, panting, my strength nearly exhausted, the box begins to make soft noises of submission.. "Meow.." I slowly lift the box. "Meow...purr.."
Apparently, my cat got his head stuck in the box and couldn't get out.
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