There are birds in that feeder, Fred. If Mom would just let us out there, we could have them for dessert.
You know Mom doesn't let us out after dinner, Bugs. She says something about coyotes. Pfft. I ain't scared of no coyotes. I'd claw their eyes out.
You're an idiot, Fred. A coyote would have you in one bite. You young whipper-snappers don't know anything. I'm staying in here where it's safe. Hey, how 'bout another nap?
Nah, too boring. Let's go run across Mom's lap while she's trying to write. Hahahahaha.
Or, I can scratch on the furniture while Dad's watching the news. He can't even tell us apart, and I always tell him it's you that does it. Bwahahaha.
That's just plain mean, Fred. Anyway, Mom likes me best, and that's what counts. C'mon, let's go see where she put my catnip.
With thanks to my models, who both came from the animal shelter: Bugs on the left, and Fred (aka the Bad Cat) on the right.