Crosseyed and painless

I socked the Big Rodent right between the eyes. The Woman seemed to think I had actually slashed at him, but no. If I'd deployed the claws on that hit, the whole neighborhood would have heard it. No, just a little rap on the forehead to remind him who's who around here.

You should have seen the look on his face — he was stunned and totally mortified. That's right, buddy. Chew on that for a while.

No one seemed to want to talk to me after that, so I figured screw 'em and decided to enjoy a cigar in peace — one of those special Cigarillo Euphoriaromatica ones that pack such a fine wallop. Probably should have known better, because once I start in on those smokes it's a fast fall into bacchanalia and then blackout.

I woke up on the floor hours later, the world spinning and no idea how I'd got there. I was flat on my back and covered in flecks of nip, with the spit-soaked cigar tucked under my arm. Fabio was looking at me funny. My gums hurt.

Upon reflection, I realize the Rodent didn't really do anything to warrant a whack on the noggin. Nor is it like me to smoke myself into a blurry stupor. It must be this damn winter is getting to me. The friggin walls are closing in. Between that and the spliffs, I think I'm losing it.

This is no good. I've got to pull myself together before I come completely unhinged.

In the meantime, just keep away from me for both our sakes. Understand?