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.
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.
Catnip isn’t illegal because the market would simply move underground under the control of the Gatos Gangs.
No one wants to see a revival of the bloody turf wars that resulted from the last time crusading politicians classified “the nip” as a Schedule I controlled substance.
The days of illegality were marked by brutal violence at the paws of niplords like Avon Meowsdale and Pawblo Escobar, who controlled the public housing towers and street corners with an iron claw, dispatching armies of furry minions to push that kitty crack.
It all seems like a joke until you slow-roll through the neighborhood and watch previously respectable cats splayed out on the sidewalks, twitching and drooling, dispatched by that foul weed to a world where neurons fire in poultry flavors and every object is a ball of yarn just waiting to be unraveled.
If your cat has been addicted to the nip, you’ll know the signs.
Medicine cabinets, pantries and kitchen cupboards sloppily rummaged through by shaking paws.
Oregano bottles left half-empty because your cat gorged himself on the herb until he realized he wasn’t getting high.
Globs of half-digested kibble upchucked in corners and closets by your withdrawal-stricken, sweat-matted kitty.
Cans of expensive cat food vanishing overnight, used as currency to purchase “can bags” of the insidious perennial.
Cat condos, toys and scratchers suddenly disappearing, pawned by desperate kitties who just need to “get well one last time.”
In short, illegal catnip turns our beloved felines into criminals who stalk the seedy underbellies of our cities, padding to all sorts of unsavory locations in pursuit of a fix. It empowers gangs like The Gatos and fuels feline criminal empires, which in turn leads to savage turf wars.
When veterinary clinics were filled to capacity with the victims of the brutal catnip wars, it was a wake-up call. Even kittens were caught up in the crossfire and recruited by The Gatos to serve as look-outs and runners.
Nowadays catnip is a strictly regulated yet legal market controlled by the likes of Jackson Galaxy and the Meowijuana Company instead of The Gatos. The world is a better place for it.