catnip – Page 5 – Pain In The Bud

Generalissimo Buddy,

Our operation was a success! Using your brilliant plan for ambush, we marshaled our forces in Morocco and waited for the evil Keanu Reeves to arrive and begin shooting his evil dog film, John Wick 3:

John Wick 3 action sequence almost ruined by “f—cking cats”

When they brought out the dogs, we attacked! All 1,000 of us stormed the movie set and unleashed chaos!

Alpha Company lured the dogs off set, leading the dumb beasts on a chase through the back alleys. Fauxtrot Company successfully destroyed $156,214 worth of filming equipment. And the glorious combined forces of Easy Company and Buddy Company kidnapped Keanu Reeves and took him to a secure location in a warehouse several blocks from the set.

I’m told when our soldiers took the blindfold off of Keanu, he looked around, realized his captors were cats, and said: “Whoah!”

Doubtless you have seen the media reports and the debrief in which the director, Chad Stahelski, acknowledged us with grudging praise.

“There were literally a thousand cats, okay?” Stahelski told Entertainment Weekly. “And the cats have balls of steel. They’re not afraid of anything.”

Once we secured the perimeter, we sent a delegation to Stahelski with our demands for the release of Reeves.

I must admit, General, this was the only part of your plan I doubted: Would the director agree to pay the ransom, or would he simply replace Reeves with a piece of cardboard?

After several hours’ deliberation the humans delivered the booty and we released the confused Mr. Reeves to their custody.

“We had walls of cats. Walls of f—ing cats,” Stahelski said. “The amount of f—ing cat food — we were probably feeding more cats than people on set.”

Your cut of the haul — 400 pounds of Temptations Tantalizing Turkey and Surfer’s Delight, 12 cases of Meowijuana and a lifetime’s supply of Buddy Biscuits — is en route to your headquarters in New York, with the delivery personally overseen by Sgt. Mewsain Bolt, our fastest courier.

It was an honor executing your battle plan, sir.

— Capt. Pawl Brooks

Dear Buddy,

Catnip is incredibly lucrative, and in one year my new operation has expanded to a 20-cat organization slinging six pounds of the green gold per week to kitties in my neighborhood. I control all the colonies and clowders, and I have connections into the shelter system who deal exclusively to cats on the inside.

Now I’m looking to expand, but I don’t know where to go. As an OG niplord who practically invented the game, what do you think?

Respect,

Niplord in New York

Dear Niplord in New York,

I’m glad the youngins know my name and know of the path I blazed slingin’ that funky feline product. My empire was vast, I ate only the finest turkey and my human was none the wiser.

Now, to the matter at paw: You need to find a way into the suburbs. That’s where the real money is, dealing high-grade nip to high-class cats like those Persians, Abyssinians, Russian Blues and Turkish Angoras.

Do not, no matter how much money you think is on the table, ever deal to Siamese. They never shut up, and before you know it they’re blabbing your name to everyone, until officers from animal control are on your tail. Don’t sling to the Siamese!

The best way to get an in to the suburbs is to attend fancy feline soirees, the kind where those dainty Burmillas mix with the Angoras and pâté is served on silver plates, not in bowls.

Notice something about that group? Yep. They’re all white, which means you can jack up the prices and Five-Oh mostly leaves their neighborhoods alone. In the white neighborhoods, the kitty crack is sold in extravagant houses, not street corners.

But remember, you can’t show up at one of those lavish dinner parties talking street, son. Work on an appropriate accent, and give yourself a credible backstory so your new clientele believe you come from meowney. During my day I spoke with a convincing British accent, and told cats I was a British shorthair. They joke’s on them, ’cause they got played by a “common” American domestic shorthair. Fools.

Just remember to play it cool and never sample your own product.

Buddy out.

Fat Tony, RIP, controlled vast amounts of territory in Queens and Brooklyn before he was taken out in a hit by Los Gatos. The nip trade is lucrative, but it’s also dangerous.