The Aristocats/Self-Demonstrating

Everything About Fiction You Never Wanted to Know.


A man walks into a Disney talent agency and says, "Have I got an act for you!".

The agent leans back in his chair and says, "Okay, tell me about this act."

The man begins: "Talking cats!

"But not just talking cats! They're from Paris, in the 1910s. So there's a filthy rich retired opera singer who leaves her entire fortune... to her pet cats! Crazy, huh? But that's not the best part. Her butler, Edgar, who wants the money all for himself, drugs the cats with sleeping pills (he drugs them!) and abandons them in the French countryside... the night after the will was made. Damn.

"But these cats, they don't just talk, they can think! Duchess, the classy one, and her three kittens, they wanna get back home, and so they meet some streetwise alley cat Thomas O'Malley. And then he takes them to hang out with his alley cat friends, and they dance to some wicked-ass jazz!"

"And then what?" says the agent in boredom, wishing to kick the man out.

"Duchess gets to fuck Thomas O'Malley, and Edgar gets his ass kicked, thanks to the alley cats. And raped."

The agent looks confused and baffled. "Huh... what do you call an act like that?"

And the man replies with a smile, "The Aristocats!"

The agent doesn't bat an eye.

"Aristo-cats!" continues the man. "Get it? Aristo-"

"You must be on the wrong building -- we don't do filthy stupid jokes. Get the hell out of here."


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