For the first time in my three years of living in this ass apartment building, the fire alarm went off.

Imagine this; it’s 10:30 on a Sunday night, I’m blasting cucks in Train Station with SEBJ, and the alarm starts absolutely blaring. I had to leave the squad. Bad teammate.

So I look into the hallway. No signs of smoke or a fire, but people are leaving their apartments and going outside. Fine.

I get outside and see someone from my hallway, and what do you think they have around their shoulder? Their fucking CAT in a little carrying case.


It did not even remotely occur to me that if there was an actual fire last night, Covy and Melon would be literal toast.

In my head, I was ready to run in and grab them if I saw a fire. But I have to imagine that’s against protocol.

The thing of it is though, I wouldn’t be able to get Covy even if I tried. He’s a baby. Loud noises scare him and he hides. If I had 60 seconds to find Covy and get him into a cat-carrier while an alarm is going off at 110 decibels, he’d be dead. 100%.

Melon on the other hand would be a piece of cake. That cat has no idea what’s going on.

So if a real fire happens tonight, I’ll be able to save the cat I don’t want, but the cat I do want will disappear forever.

RIP. Always be prepared.