"I am the Oracle of Knuckleheadery," said

"I am the Oracle of Knuckleheadery," said the sage. He wore a No Fear shirt, with a batman cape, he sat on a thrown that was a bean bag and drank Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Something wasn't right here, no sage would drink a common-folk brew like PBR. I was on alert, as this oracle could be an impostor. I couldn't let him know I was suspicious, though.

So I tried blending in with the rest of the so-called hipsters to keep my eye on this so-called "sage." Pushing my black plastic glasses up & my tweed fedora down, I sipped a PBR &

nearly choked on its bubblegum flavonoids. I must have made a most wretched face, because the 'tender nudged the customer with the cap gun, and tipped his head ever so slightly in

an easterly direction. Obviously to pick up radio signals! The 'tender looked me in the eyeballs, its pupils whirring in and out as it tried to lock onto my fuzzy form. I'm notorio

usly fuzzy-furred when I get nervous, so it should've been no surprise. I felt as though I was being watched. I likely looked like I'd stuck my paw into an electric socket again.

I had cat's paws and was growing a fur coat, part grey and part white. My nose and whiskers were white. My tail was grey. My back paws were white...and front paws grey. I felt glad

because grey had always been my favorite color with white a close second. Transforming into a grey and white cat was a dream come true. Now playing solitaire would be a completely

impossible task, since the cards kept slipping through my little kitty paws and I couldn't get a grip on them. So I snuck into a video arcade and began to play Video Poker. I found