“Where’s the bag?” Frederic asked.
“How should I know?” Kirk said.
“Because you bought it! You stored it somewhere, and we need to feed the cat.”
“Well, I put it in the usual spot, probably.”
“Probably? How is that a helpful answer? I checked the usual spot, and it’s not there. Can you at least help me look?”
“I’m busy, Freddy. I have other things to do than feed your cat.”
“Excuse me?” Frederic put a hand on his hip and pursed his lips. “My cat? You’re the one who said it would be cute. You’re the one who said you needed a companion. You’re the one who demanded we go to the shelter ‘right this instant’ and get a ‘fur-baby’. It’s your damn cat, I just do all the work of looking after it while you fiddle around on your computer!”
Kirk slammed shut it his laptop. “Well if you hate the damn cat so much, why don’t you toss it off the balcony!”
“Maybe I will!” Frederic shouted. He stormed off and slammed the bedroom door.
Standing in front of its bowl, the cat meowed. Kirk sighed, looking at it for a moment, then started hunting through the cupboards in search of its food.