Wrath of the cat

Pusen Brede Cat

Celine Våga Translator

It was a pitch black, wet and heavy day and I had just demolished a package of servelami from Rema1000. I felt like a big hairy car trunk as I laid in a starry position comfortably on a bed in Mølla 502. I needed a change, an improvement, a dude which could karatekick my life back on track. For I was no longer keen on filling my rumen with garbage, gravel, dust and filth; I was keen on a male cat which could give me a proper lady-boner.

I saw him a couple days later on Instagram. Dark, mysterious, and totally coconutty-bananas “loco-bãng” in the head. Of course, I had to establish contact. “Hey baby, you up for spinning me around like a beyblade?” I wrote in his DM´s and instantly regretted it. It didn´t take long before Pelle, this bossy ass chief kitty replied: “You sexy beast, keen on a night out at Kattegat in rough weather?”, and of course I was.

Two days before the trip Pelle posted a pic on the gram with the caption: “Me when I think about Brede”. It was a video. Close up. Zoom. Slow-mo. Pelle, who dipped his whole top-floor in a bucket of lukewarm milk and dragged his tounge over his teeny-teethies to Erik Prydz iconic “Call on Me”. I got this deep warm feeling in my tail. Something was absolutely wünderbar. Never before have I felt such a ping-pong sensation in my rear parts, it was like a firework of sweaty salami and ice-cold skimmed milk. It made me insanely excited, but also nervous. How crazy is this handsome panther from Oslo???

The answer to this is: Pretty damn crazy. This guy was actually outside my front door an hour later with overalls, a flannel shirt and a huge sleeve of magnumcobra- condoms with 4% whole milk flavor. Simply a proper manly-man with underwear full of heaven, like a warm bucket of steel-stored-milky-whiteyummy filled to the rim. I wanted to bring his cat hide inside. He accepted the invitation with a sleek grin and was wild enough to exclaim: “Are you ready for this performance? My brass trombone could sure need some polishing.”. Well well, this reeks of badger but I guess I´ll let it pass, I thought and put my bangs up in a kitty-tail.

After that the rest is blank. Totally blackened. It´s kinda weird, but when I eventually woke up, I was cleanly shaved like a Siamese and on the top of Eika Sports Centre, laying in a bed of lukewarm rollerburgers from Esso and with five missed calls from Ås Joint Church Council. I have no bloody idea what Pelle did that night, but we had a new date the following Friday.

Instagram: @vulkanpusen