Someone escaped out at The Front when we went to the cheese shop the other day, and this is what greeted us when we got home (see below). You can even make out Cat Daddy’s “Shut up!” 3 seconds in.
This must be what our neighbours hear and see every single time the little sod breaks out. We feel terrible for them all but for That Neighbour, in particular, and it’s not remotely surprising that the poor man can’t stand the infernal racket and is forced to leave his house and escort the miscreant back home.
Good folk of TW8, we are truly sorry. Please don’t hate us. (It’s Louis Catorze’s fault. Hate him instead.)