His highness’s dignity permeated the room. Children gawked, men bowed, and women swooned. A certain radiance seemed to eminate from the feline king. That is, until he spoke: “gweetings my subjects! I am yo lod and wuler! May my beneficence wain down upon you.”

In that instant, the spell was broken. Awe was replaced by a communal urge to chant “pss,pss,pss” and to try to rub the erstwhile monarch.

He doesn’t always judge, but when he does, it’s from the comfort of his own chair and heated blankie.