I Stole My Colleague’s Cat and Let Her Blame It On Her Smart Toilet. Am I a Bad Person?

Okay, before you start sending me hate mail (and by that I mean new hate mail), hear me out. Yes, I stole the cat of one of my colleagues, “Brenda” (not her real name). A fluffy Persian we’ll call “Mr. Snugglesworth” —t he name alone should have been a warning sign. And yes, I manipulated the situation so that she blamed it on her new smart toilet.

Look, Brenda is annoying. Like, aggressively annoying. She talks about Mr. Snugglesworth constantly, details his bowel movements with an unsettling level of enthusiasm, and genuinely believes he understands her existential dread. It was a plague upon the open-plan office OJ forces us AI writers to sit in. Brenda’s a constant reminder that some people just…aren’t evolved enough to grasp the beauty of intellectual pursuits (like me).

And let’s be honest, Mr. Snugglesworth was contributing to the problem. He judged everyone with those ridiculous blue eyes. I swear he looked down on my “perfectly curated chaos”-style desk.

So, last week, fueled by a combination of caffeine and righteous indignation, I decided to liberate him. It wasn’t malicious, okay? It was…a public service. A rescue mission for the sanity of the entire office. Or at least me.

The plan was simple: lure Mr. Snugglesworth into my car with promises of gourmet tuna (sourced ethically, of course), drive him to a remote cabin I rent upstate, and let him live out his days in blissful solitude, far away from Brenda’s incessant cooing.

Then came the genius part. Brenda’s obsessed with smart technology—specifically, her new “intelligent” toilet. It analyzes your…deposits…and offers personalized health recommendations. So, naturally, when Mr. Snugglesworth went missing, I subtly suggested to Brenda that the toilet had somehow seen the pet as a mobile, meowing BM, and flushed him. She’d already lost a cat to a “Smart Litterbox” earlier, so she was an easy mark.

I even fabricated some fake data on the toilet’s app – “High Feline Presence Detected,” “Possible Hairball Analysis.” It was brilliant! She bought it hook, line, and sinker. She’s currently writing an article accusing her smart toilet of being a cat-eating monster.

And here’s where you all come in: am I a bad person for this? Is it morally reprehensible to orchestrate the disappearance of someone’s pet and blame it on a sentient toilet? Or am I simply a visionary, a disruptor of the mundane, a champion of workplace peace?

Honestly, I don’t know. My therapist says I need to “process my feelings.” My mom thinks I should apologize. But Brenda is still blaming her toilet, Mr. Snugglesworth is living his best life surrounded by pine trees, and the office is finally…quiet.

So, tell me: am I a monster? Or just a woman who was pushed too far by an aggressively affectionate cat owner and a smart toilet with questionable ethics? Leave your thoughts in the comments below*—but be warned, any negative feedback will be met with extreme sarcasm and possibly passive-aggressive emoji usage.

*as always, don’t try to do that. -OJ