Catcism

“I was a mere feline cog in the machine, a drudging cat-bureaucrat. As a weary accountant, I spent my life-force verifying endless Excel files from 8:00 AM to 10:00 PM, drowning in a deluge of five hundred emails a day.

It was a thrilling existence, I assure you. But eventually, the scales fell from my eyes. I watched my overlord, a mouse, slinking into a brand-new luxury car every morning. While he donned the finest silks, I haven’t updated my threadbare suit in a decade; I can no longer even afford the thread to mend my dignity.

This humiliation festered within me. Then, I stumbled upon a digital feline-guru’s sermon: “Everyone can be whatever they want to be”. Something ignited instantly, a scorched-earth fire in my gut. An insatiable, primal hunger for mouse-slaughter consumed me. Those parasites... they didn't just take my time; they stole my very life.

I used to be a serene, seemingly content office-drone. But they plundered that peace. Now, I whisper in the ears of my colleagues and brothers-in-paws. We refused to tolerate this preposterous reality any longer.

Thus, we birthed Catcism. Our doctrine is absolute: a world purged of the rodent. They must be expelled from our cat-country. I never sought the mantle of “Great Leader,” but someone had to seize the heavy chains of this existential crisis.

We’ve ascended as the dominant political juggernaut in the cat-nation. I’ve resigned from the firm because my boss finally learned the meaning of “fear”, exactly as intended. Let them tremble. This is the Era of the Cat, and the final curtain for the mice. They’re alien invaders, and they’re no longer welcome on our soil.”

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