“Hold on,” said Regret the cat, flicking his cigarette in the toilet. He giggled, stopped himself again. “Hold on, wait,” he shook himself all over, then flicked my toothbrush into the toilet as well. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”
“Goddamn it,” I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him gently into the hallway.
“Hold on,” he said, indulging in a little post toss grooming. “Wait, OK, I’m ready. Do it again.”
“Do what again?”
“Explain Trump to me. I can handle it this time.”