My name is Kaiser, and I am a cat—a very ginger cat. You see, that practically makes me royalty. With my vibrant fur and regal demeanor, I prance around my kingdom, which is mostly limited to the living room, but I have grand aspirations. I have a dream. I want to rule over the world. First, I will start with all of feline-kind.

As I sit atop my throne (also known as the back of the couch), I ponder my first decree: all humans must serve their feline overlords with the finest tuna. I can already imagine the headlines: “Ginger Cat Takes Over the World: Tuna for All!”

But first, I must devise a plan. Perhaps I can gather my fellow cats for a summit. We’ll hold it in the sunniest spot of the house, of course, and discuss important matters like the best napping spots and strategies for stealthily stealing treats from the kitchen counter.

I envision it now: cats from every corner of the globe, united under my ginger banner, plotting their rise to power. I chuckle at the thought—after all, who could resist a cat as charming as me? The world won’t know what hit it. But for now, I settle in for a nap. Ruling the world is exhausting work!

“Hey, Kaiser, we need to get you in some exercises if you want to stay healthy,” says the fatso who doesn’t share their pizza. I flick my tail dismissively, refusing to move from my cozy spot on the couch. After all, how can a regal ginger like me plot world domination while also engaging in strenuous activity?

However, his whining is too much. I decide to play along—partly to keep him quiet and partly because I need to distract him from that pizza. I stretch languidly, arching my back like a majestic feline yoga master, and then I finally rise.

‘Okay, human, I’ll show you my elite feline workout routine,’ I meow, giving him my best “I’m totally serious” look. I stroll over to the nearest window and perform my first exercise: the classic “watch the birds” position. I mean, nothing gets the heart racing quite like the thrill of watching a sparrow hop around like it owns the place.

‘See? Cardio,’ I try to say, purring with sarcasm. The fatso rolls his eyes, but I know deep down he’s impressed. I flick my tail in triumph and switch to the “chase the invisible red dot” routine. This one really gets my blood pumping, especially when I pretend to pounce on it with all my ferocity. I leap, I twist, and I even give a little hiss for dramatic effect.

“Wow, Kaiser! You really are a natural athlete,” he says, trying to suppress a laugh. I shoot him a glance that says, ‘Of course I am. I’m a cat, after all.’

With the warm sun streaming in and the thrill of the chase still tingling in my paws, I decide to escalate my exercise regimen. I scamper toward the towering scratching post that stands like a pillar of strength in the living room. It’s time for the “climb to the top of my kingdom” workout. I dig my claws into the sisal, scaling the post with the elegance of a seasoned climber.

See? This is what royalty does! We conquer heights!

“Alright, alright, your majesty,” he chuckles, “but maybe some actual cardio wouldn’t hurt.”

Actual cardio? Ha! What does he know about my plans for world domination? I smirk. This is just a warm-up. Soon, I’ll have my feline army and we’ll overthrow this lazy human who doesn’t share his pizza!

I settle back into my regal pose, surveying my kingdom. Who needs exercise when plotting world domination is this entertaining?

Five minutes later, fatso manages to drag me outside, leash in hand. It is humiliating. I am a royal ginger cat, not some common pet who needs to be tethered for a stroll! I grumble quietly as we step out into the vast wilderness of our backyard—oh, the horrors I must endure for my health.

Ten minutes later, as I try to find a suitable spot to display my disdain, I hear the unmistakable roar of an engine. Truck-kun arrives. Fatso doesn’t notice at first, too busy fumbling with the leash and muttering about “getting fresh air.” I spot it, though, and I know disaster is imminent.

With my sharp feline instincts kicking in, I spring into action. I claw at fatso's leg just as Truck-kun speeds by, narrowly missing him. “Ouch! What’s that—” he yelps, looking down at me in shock.

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What are you gonna say? You’re welcome? “T-thank you. Oh my, I could have died there and then—” he stammers, glancing back at the truck, but I’m already plotting my next move.

Before I can bask in my heroic act, chaos strikes again. Truck-kun’s cousin, Van-san, comes barreling down the road, loud and reckless. I barely have time to register what’s happening before he runs through me like I’m some rodent. I see the wheels and then... darkness.

The next thing I know, I’m in an endless void, floating with all my regal ginger thoughts. I’m sure I’m plotting my grand return to the land of the living, where I can assert my royal authority and continue my quest for feline supremacy.

The world turns white, and I suddenly find myself in an ethereal realm. A powerful tiger with a luscious golden mane appears before me, radiating an aura of divine authority.

“My name is Amarys! The Tiger God!” he proclaims, his voice booming like thunder.

I puff out my chest and declare, “And then I am the Cat God!”

He narrows his eyes. “No… You are not a G—”

“Wrong!” I interrupt, my tail twitching with indignation.

“I am telling you—”

“Wrong!” I counter, determined to assert my newfound divinity.

“Fine! Why is my species so wrong in the head?” he huffs, looking exasperated.

“Wrong! Wrong!” I shout back, waving my paw dramatically.

“Ugh…” Amarys groans, clearly regretting his decision to engage with me.

I can’t help but smirk. Who knew becoming a cat god would be so entertaining? It’s clear this majestic tiger isn’t ready for the sass of a regal ginger cat like me. I take a moment to adjust my imaginary crown, enjoying the absurdity of our celestial debate.

“Ok, here’s the deal,” Amarys begins, his voice booming as he gestures with his massive paws. “The other Gods keep on sending champions to other worlds and claiming they are doing good work. Since it is trending, I thought—hey, I should give it a try. Initially, I was thinking of picking your fatso slave, but who out there is better to represent us if not our fellow species?”

“Good,” I reply, nodding in agreement.

“What’s up with that attitude? I am a God, you kn—”

“Wrong!” I interject, feeling the thrill of my divine sass take over.

Amarys looks like he’s about to lose his cool. “You are going to give me an ulcer, damn it!”

I can’t help but chuckle at the image of a god with stomach problems. “Well, if you can’t handle the heat, maybe you shouldn’t be meddling with mere mortals like me.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a God?” he retorts, swishing his magnificent tail in frustration.

“Oh, please! I’ve seen fatso try to open a can of tuna. That’s a real struggle!” I say, waving my paw dismissively.

Amarys glares at me, and I can see he’s trying to keep his composure, but it’s hard not to crack up at the ridiculousness of the situation. A mighty tiger god and a ginger cat debating the merits of divine representation? This is pure gold.

“Listen, Kaiser,” he says, taking a deep breath to calm down. “We have a job to do here. I need a champion who can handle themselves.”

I give him my best royal smirk. “You’re looking at him, Tiger God! Just think about it: a ginger cat taking on the multiverse! I’ll be the greatest champion in history! And if you give me some tuna, I might even consider it.”

Amarys shakes his head, looking both amused and exasperated. “You’re impossible, but maybe that’s exactly what I need.”

I preen at the compliment, feeling like a true god in my own right. After all, ruling the world starts with having the right team, and who better to help him than me, Kaiser, the soon-to-be legendary Cat God!

“And no, the multiverse isn’t real,” insists the big cuddly cat, looking at me with that classic tiger indifference.

“LIES! DECEITS! HERETICS!” I declare, puffing up my chest dramatically, fully committed to my role as the Cat God of the Universe.

He rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “We are speaking the meow-meow language unique to your species. The place you will be sent to will have a different language system, so I will give you a full language comprehension packet. It is a singular supercontinent, so no need to fuss about vastly different tongues. There might be dialects though, but I think you can adjust just fine.”

“Of course! I am a cat! I am genius!” I proclaim, strutting around like I’m already preparing for my conquest.

Amarys raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Genius, huh? You just called me a heretic for saying the multiverse isn’t real. How smart is that?”

I wave my paw dismissively, not even breaking my stride. “Details, details! Just because I have strong opinions doesn’t mean I’m not intelligent. Besides, I plan to rule this singular supercontinent, and everyone will bow down to my furry majesty. I will be the toast of the catnip kingdom!”

“Sure, but first, you need to learn how to communicate with the locals. They may not appreciate your royal declarations right off the bat,” he warns, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Oh, pfft! How hard can it be? I’ll just meow at them until they understand!” I respond confidently, picturing myself on a grand throne made of the finest cushions, barking orders in my best cat dialect.

Amarys shakes his head again. “You might want to rethink that strategy. But fine, I’ll give you the language packet. Just remember, it’s a lot of meows and hisses, mixed with… uh, let’s just say some other vocalizations.”

“Sounds like a challenge! I’m up for it!” I beam, already imagining the awe on the faces of those who will witness my genius.

“Just don’t go around declaring yourself a god right away,” he cautions.

“Too late for that!” I smirk. “I’m already Kaiser, the Cat God, destined to rule all! I can’t wait to get started!”

With a dramatic leap, I land back on my imaginary throne, picturing my glorious reign. It’s time for this ginger cat to show the world what it means to be truly fabulous, one meow at a time!