Catsth Life

Alas, as must we all, Sylvester finally shuttled off his mortal boil and went to Heaven.

St Peter met him at the gates and said, "You have been a good, albeit frustrated kitty all these years, Sylvester. Now is your time. Anything you want, just name it."

Sylvester thought for a nanosecond, the light came on and he ejaculated: "Thufferin Thuccotash! I'm tho glad you askthed! All my life I thlept on hard wooden floorth. And now, Chief, I'd really apprethiate a huge fluffy pillow to thleep on."

St Peter consulted with Tetragrammaton on the blower, then turned and said, "Say no more."

Instantly Sylvester had a huge fluffy pillow.

A few days later, six mice were killed in a suicide bombing and they all went to Heaven together.

St Peter met the mice at the gates with the same offer that he made to the cat.

The mice said, "Oy! We've had to run all our lives--from cats, dogs, and even people! In fact, mostly people! If we could only have some tiny roller skates, we would'nt have to run anymore."

St Peter conferred with the big guy upstairs on the phone again, then turned and advised: "It's done, already."

Et voila! All the mice had shiny and very tiny roller skates.

About a week later, St Pete decided to check on Sylvester.

He found him asleep on his huge fluffy pillow.

St Pete gently awakened the old boy and inquired, "Is everything okay? How have you been? Are you happy?"

The cat yawned, stretched, then replied: "I'm tellin' ya, Chief, it justh couldn't be better! I've never been tho fuckin' happy in my life!"

"The pillow'th perfect!" he exulted. "I mean Jethuth, how good can it get?"

"And who thought up the Mealth on Wheelth?"