So here's the scene from the kitchen with me turning my head back and forth from the cabinet to the cat in my bedroom doorway.
me: "I got some stovetop stuffing?"
her: "mow" (no) and just so you know she sounds a lot like gangster character actor Edward G. Robinson ....Mow SHEE, Mow. We're gonna rub ya out shee. Mow.)
me: "How about some green beans?"
her: "mow." (no)
me: "Crisco?"
her:"MOW!"
me:"corn?"
her: (agitated scowl)
me:"ok, corn is a no....eh how about soooooooome dehydrated potatoes?"
her: (reaching for broken beer bottle)
me: "Alright I'll take that as a no. Oh, here's some salmon. I hate salmon, you can have this.)
So I open the can which results in all kinds of frantic "mowing" as the cat goes bat-shit over the smell. I put some in her bowl.
me: "how's that?"
her: ::::Making sound like buzzsaw going through sequoia tree::::
me: "Want a napkin?"
her: "mowgglglarngal....BRRRRRAAAAAA!"
I'm hearing : "relax"---the glove
I'm eating : a sprite
I want : spicy Indian food