Alarming

Greyson and Quill sit at the end of the bed staring anxiously at their human Mom. Waiting. It's past breakfast time on a Sunday morning.

Greyson: When is she gonna get up, I'm starving!

Quill: Me too! Let me see what I can do.

Moving to mid-bed, Quill issues an urgent squeak. Mom's hand automatically comes up for a pet. Quill rubs her hand to begin an impromptu petting session before returning to Greyson.

Greyson: What was that?

Quill: A little cuddle time. Oh right I was supposed to get her up... but she seems really sleepy.

Greyson: Ridiculous! I'm going in! Should I walk across her shoulder, hip or head? ::Tummy Growls:: Right! Pace across all three!

Jumping on at mid-thigh, Greyson stumps across Mom. She wiggles and groans until he falls off.

Greyson: That's it! I'm bringing out the big guns!

Quill: Not the litter box?

Greyson: Yes.

Quill holds Greyson back with paw to whisper: Don't bury.

Greyson looks at Quill with newfound respect: Now that's the kind of evil genius thinking I'd like to see more of around here brother!