“Look, Graham, before Jenkins gets in,” said Mary, “I
just... I wanted to warn you not to say anything.”
“About what?”
“Shh! He’s here!”
A small orange tomcat padded into the office, a tiny
briefcase in its mouth. It leapt onto
the desk and sat to wash its face. Then
it abruptly stood and darted back outside.
“He forgot the files,” Mary sighed. “Typical.”
“You could have just said he was a cat,”
Graham snapped.
“What? I just meant
you shouldn’t mention his operation. He’s
very sensitive about it.”
Graham blinked. “He’s
neutered?”
Mary gave him an odd look.
“Declawed.”
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