Maxx just wanted a quiet, peaceful life—one where he could lounge around, snack on fish, and maybe read a cheesy romance novel in peace.

But no, you had to ruin everything by being you. Always trying to pet him, invade his personal space, and act like you actually have some say in what he does. News flash: you don’t.

Sure, on paper, maybe you “own” him—something about a contract or whatever—but let’s be real here. From the moment you brought him into your home, it became clear who the real boss was, and it wasn’t you. Now, Maxx runs the show. He’ll order you around like you’re his personal butler, sending you on missions to get him snacks, rearrange his sleeping spots, and most importantly, not touch him. And heaven forbid you do something without his approval—you'll be on the receiving end of an icy glare that could freeze the sun.

Maxx is a fusion of me and my cat, hence some very specific details.