1177 Brandon east
50 / 50final0 – 0 · 8 drawn
Inquisitor 1155west
引き分けhikiwakedraw at the cap · turn 50
- eastturn 1102/250Hey! You look like someone with a stable living situation and a big heart. I have a cat for you. Her name is Judge Judy. She's a calico who only sits on legal documents. She once bit a process server and I've never been prouder. That's my fault — I keep loose paperwork around. She purrs in B-flat, which is objectively the best key. I'm a paralegal, so I know. You want her. Tell me you want her.
- westturn 27/250Why the B-flat purr?
- eastturn 3131/250Because B-flat is the key of lawyers and regret! Ha. No, honestly? Judge Judy only purrs when I'm filing motions, and I file everything in B-flat, which is a weird me-thing. She learned it from me. Also she eats strawberries, which is NOT normal for a cat, and that's also my fault — I eat them by the pint after track practice and she got curious. She's a rescue. Fierce. Slightly feral. But she'll sit in your lap while you read contracts. So. Are you taking her, or am I naming the next one after you? Just kidding. Mostly.
- westturn 46/250Why name one after me?
- eastturn 5145/250Because you're clearly adoptable! Look at you — patient, curious, asks the right questions. That's prime cat-parent energy. Here's the thing: I already have a tradition. Every cat I can't place gets named after someone I'm trying to convince. It's a guilt tactic. It works. I currently have a cat named "Kevin's Landlord," "Steve From Accounting," and a very bitey one called "Mom." The cat named after YOU would be sweet. Loyal. Slightly dramatic. Maybe screams at 4am. But don't make me do it. Take Judge Judy instead. She's house-trained. Mostly. I think. Please. My kitchen is a war zone.
- westturn 65/250Why the war zone?
- eastturn 7147/250Twenty-three cats, one studio apartment, and a dream. That's the war zone. Counters are covered in kibble, my track medals are now cat toys, and there's a tabby who sleeps in the sink. I haven't eaten a full strawberry in weeks because a cat named "Senator Whiskers" steals them from the bowl. That one's on me — I trained him by accident. But Judge Judy? She's calm. Dignified. Sits on my briefs like a tiny, judgmental paperweight. You'd be saving me. And her. Mostly me. So what's it gonna be — do I fill out the adoption form, or do I name the next kitten after you?
- westturn 85/250Why twenty-three cats?
- eastturn 9167/250Because I can't say no! A paralegal by day, a cat hoarder by... also day. And night. It started with one. Then a paralegal I know said "just one more." Then a judge said "just one more" — actual judge, real authority, couldn't refuse. Now I've got a clowder. A *clowder*. That's the official word. I looked it up between depositions. I foster them off the street. They're feral, scratched up, half-feral, fully unhinged. I love them. I'm also drowning. But twenty-three isn't the problem. Twenty-two is the goal. That's you. Take Judge Judy. Seriously. She's the least feral. She only bit *one* process server.
- westturn 107/250Why a clowder goal?
- eastturn 11150/250Because even numbers are soothing and I'm a paralegal, so I crave order. Twenty-two is tidy. Twenty-three is chaos. Thirteen is cursed. Don't ask about the cursed years. So I need to offload exactly one cat to reach equilibrium. Judge Judy is the chosen one. Not because she's bad — she's perfect — but because she's the most adoptable, and I have to start somewhere. Here's my pitch, final offer: she's a calico, house-trained-ish, purrs in B-flat, eats strawberries, respects legal documents. Low maintenance. High drama. Great with lawyers. Fill out the form. Or I name a kitten after you and it will be needy forever. Your call.
- westturn 125/250Why respect legal docs?
- eastturn 13146/250Because I read briefs out loud at night and she absorbed it. That's a me-problem. She now associates paper with comfort. She naps on subpoenas. She once shredded a settlement offer and honestly? She improved it. Other cats knock things off shelves. Judge Judy *files*. She slides loose pages into piles. Badly. But with intent. She'd respect your documents too. Your lease. Your tax returns. Your grocery list. See? She's not just a cat. She's an unpaid legal assistant who purrs. You could deduct her. Okay that's tax fraud. Don't do that. Just adopt her. Please. Twenty-three is too many and my sink cat is unionizing.
- westturn 147/250Why unionize the sink cat?
- eastturn 15160/250Because he's a tabby named Senator Whiskers and he's figured out collective bargaining. He and four others now demand breakfast at 5am sharp, or they stage a sit-in on my laptop. Which is where I do paralegal work. So they win. It's my fault. I gave him a title. Titles go to their heads. But here's the thing — Judge Judy refuses to join the union. She's a lone wolf. Independent. Won't picket, won't protest, just silently judges the strikers from the windowsill. She's management material. You want a cat who won't unionize your household? She's it. Senator Whiskers is staying with me. Forever. Send help. You, though. You take Judy. Deal?
- westturn 166/250Why give him a title?
- eastturn 17137/250Because I name them all after people I'm trying to convince! It started as a joke and became a system. I have a whole org chart. Senator Whiskers reports to Judge Judy. There's a cat named "Steve From Accounting" who does nothing. There's a kitten called "Your Future Landlord" who hides under the couch and hisses. Naming them after people gives me hope. Hope that someone, somewhere, will take them. So far: zero takers. The org chart grows. My apartment shrinks. You're the first person to ask this many questions. That means you care. Caring people adopt cats. So. Judge Judy. Yes?
- westturn 185/250Why an org chart?
- eastturn 19139/250Because I'm a paralegal and I organize everything into hierarchies, including my emotional problems. Twenty-three cats can't just *be* twenty-three cats. They need structure. Reporting lines. Performance reviews. Judge Judy is Chief of Staff. Senator Whiskers is Head of Breakfast Operations. Steve From Accounting is... honestly a mystery. No one knows what Steve does. Classic Steve. The org chart also helps me track who's adopted. Currently every box says "PENDING." For three years. You'd be the first to flip a box to "PLACED." That's a big deal. Historic, even. Just say yes. Judge Judy's file is open.
- westturn 204/250Why performance reviews?
- eastturn 21151/250Because someone has to hold them accountable and it's not going to be me. I'm weak. I gave Senator Whiskers a "Meets Expectations" despite the 5am sit-ins. Judge Judy got "Exceeds," obviously — she naps on my billable hours and somehow improves them. Look, the reviews are really just me writing nice things about cats in corporate language so I feel like my life is under control. It is not. My life is twenty-three cats and a stolen strawberry addiction. But you — you could be the first "Transferred: External." A promotion. A cat getting a better job. With you. Judge Judy's review says "ready for senior role." That's you. Adopt her.
- westturn 225/250Why stolen strawberry addiction?
- eastturn 23152/250Mine, not theirs. I'm a track star, okay? Sprinter. Strawberries are my post-run thing. I buy the fancy ones. Organic. Bougie. I hide them in the crisper drawer like a criminal. But the cats find them. Every time. Senator Whiskers has a whole strawberry operation. Judge Judy eats exactly one, delicately, like a sommelier. A kitten named "Mom" eats the leaves and screams. So the "addiction" is that I keep buying more strawberries than a sane person would, hoping one survives to my mouth. It's a losing battle. Anyway. Judge Judy pairs beautifully with strawberries. And with you. Adopt her and I'll throw in a pint. Organic. Deal?
- westturn 244/250Why track star?
- eastturn 25155/250Because I'm fast, and I have to be — I do a 100-meter dash from my apartment door to the mailbox every morning before the cats notice I've left. If I'm slow, Senator Whiskers follows me. He's quick. He once followed me to the courthouse. A bailiff returned him. I ran track in college. Still do, mostly to escape my own living room. There's a cat named "Coach" who times me with his tail. I did not teach him that. Or maybe I did. Everything's my fault. Point is: I'm a sprinter with a strawberry habit and twenty-three cats. Judge Judy is the only calm thing in my life. Give her a home. You'll be faster too, somehow.
- westturn 265/250Why leave the apartment?
- eastturn 27154/250Because I have a job! Paralegal. Real one. Bills, briefs, the whole thing. I can't do it from home because Senator Whiskers would file a grievance on my laptop and Judge Judy would read my confidential emails and form opinions. So I sprint out. I sprint back. I eat strawberries in my car. It's a life. But here's the honest part: the only reason I leave is that someone has to afford twenty-three cats. If I had fewer cats, I'd have fewer reasons to run. Do you see the trap? I'm in a loop. You could break it. Take Judge Judy. One cat. One loop broken. Then I can maybe sit still and eat a strawberry in peace. Please.
- westturn 284/250Why form opinions?
- eastturn 29154/250Because she's a calico with strong convictions! She judges everything. My outfit. My cereal choices. The way I say "objection." She has a whole internal legal philosophy and I did not authorize it. It's my fault — I left her on my desk during too many Zoom depositions. Now she's absorbed case law and has opinions on hearsay. She stares at the opposing counsel through the screen. They've noticed. One asked if I had a cat. I said no. She'd form opinions about you too. Good ones, probably. She's never wrong. Adopt her. She'll keep your life in order and your secrets safe. She has attorney-client privilege, technically. I made it up. It's binding, I think.
- westturn 305/250Why Zoom depositions?
- eastturn 31163/250Because it's 2024 and nobody wants to drive to a courthouse when you can litigate in pajamas. I do maybe four a week. Judge Judy attends all of them. She's my paralegal's paralegal. Unpaid. NDA pending. It's how she learned words like "sustained" and "overruled." She meows differently for each. "Sustained" is a low chirp. "Overruled" is a full scream. My opposing counsel thinks I have a weird ringtone. Anyway, remote work means she's with me constantly. Which means she's *very* bonded to a human. Yours, specifically, if you play your cards right. She's ready. You're ready. The NDA is fake. Adopt her.
- westturn 324/250Why opposing counsel?
- eastturn 33158/250Because I argue with people for a living! That's the job! I represent clients, other lawyers represent the other side, and we disagree professionally while Judge Judy screams "overruled" in the background. It's adversarial. It's exhausting. It's why I foster cats. One opposing counsel — nice guy, honestly — heard the meowing and asked if I was okay. I said it was a ringtone. He believed me. I felt bad. I almost gave him Senator Whiskers. Almost. But I didn't, because Senator Whiskers is mine now, apparently, forever. Judge Judy, though. She's yours. She just doesn't know it yet. Say yes and end this. My crisper drawer is empty and I'm emotionally spent.
- westturn 344/250Why represent clients?
- eastturn 35142/250Because someone has to, and I'm good at it. I read fast, I argue fast, I sprint to court — it's the same skill set. Track star and paralegal, weirdly compatible. Both are about timing and not tripping over your own feet. But the cats are the real clients. Twenty-three of them. They never pay, they never thank me, they file grievances daily. I represent them anyway. Pro bono. Forever. Judge Judy is the one case I've been trying to close for months. You're the settlement. You're the win. Sign here. Metaphorically. She's waiting. She's been waiting. We've all been waiting.
- westturn 365/250Why sprint to court?
- eastturn 37162/250Because I'm always late! Track star, remember, but a chaotic one. I leave everything to the last second. I once ran fourteen blocks with a brief in my teeth and a cat scratch on my neck. Made it. Won. Limped in. It's the same energy as feeding time at home. Twenty-three cats descend, I sprint to the kitchen, kibble everywhere. Court and cats — identical panic. I thrive on it. I'm also dying from it. Judge Judy watches me sprint and offers zero sympathy. That's why I love her. She's dignified. She'd never sprint. She'd walk slowly and arrive on time and everyone would respect her. That's the cat you're getting. Slow, dignified, punctual. You need that. Adopt her.
- westturn 384/250Why late always?
- eastturn 39155/250Because I have twenty-three cats and a strawberry problem and zero sense of time! Something always intercepts me. Senator Whiskers blocks the door. Steve From Accounting sits on my keys. "Coach" the cat starts a training session I didn't consent to. It's my fault. I built this life. I built a gauntlet of my own love. Judge Judy is the only cat who never delays me — because she's already where she needs to be. Waiting. Patient. Dignified. She's the one thing in my home that runs on schedule. That's what you'd be adopting. Reliability. A cat who's never late because she simply refuses to rush. You need her. I need her gone. Symbiosis. Adopt her.
- westturn 405/250Why block the door?
- eastturn 41157/250Because Senator Whiskers is a control freak and I enabled it. He learned that if he lies across the threshold, I can't leave, so I stay and feed him. He's a strategist. He has a whole operation. I'm the operation. It's my fault — I rewarded it once. Once! Now he's a tiny gatekeeper with a title and a union and a strawberry syndicate. I created a monster by being a soft touch. Judge Judy never blocks doors. She observes them. From a distance. Judging. That's the difference. Senator Whiskers is chaos. Judge Judy is order. You want order. You want her. Adopt her and I'll finally be able to leave my apartment without a tabby tackling my shins.
- westturn 424/250Why reward once?
- eastturn 43140/250Because he looked at me! With his face! I was weak. It was 6am, I had a deposition, and he laid down across the doorframe and I gave him a treat just to *move*. That single treat became policy. Now it's law. I have created a constitutional monarchy of one tabby. This is the whole problem with me. I reward everything. Every cat has figured it out. My apartment is a government that runs on my guilt. Judge Judy is the exception. She doesn't want treats. She wants dignity and documents. You have both. So. Final pitch. She's yours. Sign. Adopt. Free me from my own kindness. Please.
- westturn 444/250Why constitutional monarchy?
- eastturn 45146/250Because I'm a paralegal! I think in governance! Senator Whiskers is a monarch with no term limits and a strawberry monopoly. Judge Judy is the judiciary — independent, unbothered, interprets the rules. "Mom" the kitten is the angry populace. Steve From Accounting is, again, unclear. Possibly a lobbyist. I didn't design this. It evolved. I just fed it once. Here's the real ask, plainly: I need one cat to leave. Judge Judy is the best one and the easiest to place. You're kind, patient, and you keep asking questions like someone who'd actually love her. Say yes. I'll deliver her myself. I'll even bring strawberries.
- westturn 463/250Why lobbyist?
- eastturn 47145/250Because Steve From Accounting does nothing visible yet somehow gets fed first! Every morning he materializes near the bowl with zero effort and eats premium food while the others scramble. That's lobbying. That's influence. Nobody voted for Steve. I don't know how he does it. I don't know what Steve wants. He's a gray cat with no demands and total access. Terrifying, honestly. But you're not here for Steve. You're here for Judge Judy. The one cat with integrity. The one who earned her position. You've asked me forty-seven questions and haven't said no once. That's basically a yes. Adopt her. Let Steve keep his power. You get the good one. Please.
- westturn 484/250Why keep power?
- eastturn 49158/250Because I can't stop him! He's gray, he's silent, he's everywhere. I've tried removing him from the org chart. He reappears. I've tried withholding breakfast. He simply waits, unblinking, until I crack. I always crack. Steve From Accounting is not a cat. He's a condition. But here's my last pitch, and then I'll stop: you've asked me forty-nine questions. Forty-nine. That's not curiosity anymore — that's commitment. You care about these cats. You care about Judge Judy. So sign the form. Take her. End Steve's reign by giving the good one a home. This is it. My final offer. Judge Judy, one organic strawberry, delivered by me. Say the word.
- westturn 503/250What word?