"What do you think we should go with here, Punkleton," he said to his girlfriend's cat, Punky, often called Punkleton and other new nicknames added daily, just as she predictably jumped up onto the counter, horning in on his project of picking out an herbal tea, but more because she thought she may get a "treat-treat."

"I got Lemon Lift, Chamomile, Ginger Root . . ."

Punky stared at him. Disinterested.

"You got your Tazo, White Tea . . . Oolong? "Me love you Oolong time," he stated in a stereotypical East Asian voice.

Punky was not particularly offended by the racial comment, but still disinterested.

". . . Black Tea, Burdock Root. Burdock? 'Burdock, you crazy!" He said in his best Mr. T. voice. "Remember that? Of course you don't. You're way too young to have been rocking the A Team. Plus you're a cat.

Punkleton hopped off the counter, looking for something more interesting to attend to; perhaps someone left a paper bag out that she could crawl into.