Hobbes Hates Me

By Nadav Itzkowitz

Today I was introduced to the Hobbes the Cat. Since it was a comedy podcast, I thought I'd make a joke about Hobbes’s cat-like features. So I threw him out the window. He landed on his feet and we all laughed. I don't think he got the joke because he scratched me in the throat when he got back in.

I was told Hobbes wanted to talk to me while Andrew and J.J. recorded a podcast. I found out later it was to find out my weaknesses. Apparently, during my fiasco of rat detail last week, I might have killed one of his older brothers, but in cat years, I suppose it would be his great older brother. He asked me what my deepest fear was. I answered what any man in his right mind would be afraid of: spiders and commitment. It was right after this, that Hobbes lifted his middle cat finger in my direction for an additional six and a half minutes till Andrew and J.J. were done with their podcast in complete silence. What an ass hole.


Right after Andrew and J.J. finished their podcast, Hobbes suggested we go on a surprise cruise on his hundred foot yacht. Andrew and J.J. were used to these kinds of frivolous surprises and urged me to come along... They explained that Hobbes liked to keep things fresh with surprise vacations that last for twenty four hours or less. It sounded like something expensive for free, so I was on board.


The whole three of them were shoving Jaeger and Popov down my throat for about three hours straight. I was blacked out within the first fifteen minutes of the trip. It was like pledgeship all over again…

The next morning, I woke up to a splitting head ache and a tarantula sleeping on my face. Tarantulas don't like waking up to screams so it bit my cheek. I ran out of my room and onto the poop deck, with two spider fangs hanging out of my face, and bleeding all over the place.

It was dawn, and nothing freaked me out more than this, but Hobbes quietly turned around in a swivel chair by the stern of the yacht, petting a mouse.

Hobbes "Rough night?"
Me "Not sure. Terrible morning. Some spider has bitten my face."
Hobbes "That's funny. I thought men used the term 'bitch' to describe their wives..."
Me "What?"
Hobbes "Don't you remember? You married that spider last night in a drunken stupor."
Me "That's not even legal. That couldn't have happened. I hate spiders."
Hobbes "Let me ask you this: did you know I'm ordained and marrying animals is not illegal in international waters?"
Me "...You son of a bitch."

Hobbes has combined my two worst fears. He made me commit to marital status with a grotesque spider I'll never step foot into a room with ever again. I fucking hate cats... and spiders, and commitment.