“Hey James?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“You know how you’re always drawing and writing stuff?”

“…yeah?”

“Well, you know…I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot too. Would you let me draw you?”

“I don’t know, Steve. That sounds like it could get weird.”

“No-no, I promise that won’t happen. If you could just put your hand like—-yes, like that. Eyes on me, keep them on me. And…try to stay still.”

“So serious!”

“Oh, and one more thing — keep your goddamn mouth shut, whore.”

“STEVE!! What the hell?!”

So yeah, things did get weird.

Just incredible.

The nerve of that cat!

I’ve never done anything bad to Steve.

…unless you count the time I had him castrated, after which I deposited his severed testicles in a jar of alcohol for preservation, which enables me to shake them around in front of his face like some evil snow globe whenever it strikes my fancy.

But that’s totally diff–

–okay, yeah…good one, Steve.

I DID deserve it.

By the way…quite the dish, aren’t I?