Yes. Although I would be mindful of the strange looks they give me occasionally, almost hinting at an intellect that doesn't belong in a cat or indeed anything in this world. I would feel uneasy with every new home I found and drink heavily as the stories of the unnatural deaths reached me.
You are in your high rise apartment sipping sweet cognac after a hard days work. Without warning, the lights go out and a chill hits the air. You hear a voice that whispers, its echoes haunting you in the dark; "You... took... my... cats..." You turn around to see the hunched and distorted figure of Elizabeth Hurley, greatest GILF of our time, slowly bending backward on all fours. She crawls with frightening preternatural speed as her legs part revealing what can only be described as an alien combination of masterful cosmetic surgery and the horrifying ravages of time. You hear the howls of a thousand tormented souls and you know you have only one chance to avoid the eldritch torments that lay in wait.
Do you jump out of the window?
