She’s laying on the servants’ bed. ON IT. In all her 9 months here, she has never willingly laid on the servants’ bed. (What? Don’t look at me. She’s the one who freaked out each time I chased her from that room. And it’s not my fault that she once got stuck under the bed while I lay in wait to attack her.)

Clearly, she has no business being on the bed. She’s laying on the he-servant’s side, which shows how low her standards are. His side of the bed is repulsively dirty – he bathes only once a day! And she is laying on THAT.

Despite the filthiness of the he-servant’s side of the bed, I own that bed. I own that whole room. It was the last part of my kingdom I was able to keep to myself after she moved in. She’s wrecking that, and it’s breaking my heart. I feel a tear coming on. Wait, that’s just one of my hairs tickling my eye. Interesting.

In three minutes I will launch onto the bed and pretend I didn’t notice her there… and I will land on her with all four feet. When she tries to run away, I will push her face down into the he-servant’s dirty pillow. After that, she will never be back on this bed. You have my word. His pillow is unspeakably gross.

By the way, I bathe at least 10 times a day… now being one of those times. Look away, please.