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      "Hewoo Mister BoooooBoooo! How aw you baby boyyyyyyyy! Wujujujuju…." I nuzzled my, cat, Sergeant Pierce Boyregard (Mister Boo Boo for short). He gave me an affectionately menacing glare, and then bit me on the nose.
     "Son of a bun! That's very bad Mister Boo Boo! Go away!"
      He landed on the floor with a thump, and walked away with his tail stuck up high, like he'd won a medal of honor. Or maybe he was proud of his butt hole and wanted to show it to the world. Either way, that cat's a piece of work. I had named him Sergeant because of his many battle scars; he was an alley cat once. I also named him Pierce Boyregard, because, well, lets just say he pierced my old neighbor Boyregard pretty good once.
     "When are you going to get rid of that fleabag? I woke up to him farting in my face last night."
     It was my roommate, Jude. Sometimes I call him "The Jew" to piss him off, which is surprisingly effective considering he isn't even Jewish.
      "I can't get rid of this cat, Jew! I spent two months teaching him how to use the toilet!"
    "JUDE! It's like dude but with a 'j'! Or maybe like jew, but a 'duh' at the end!"
     "I know Jew, DUH!" I retorted.
     "Whatever. Anyway, sure it knows how to use a toilet; that's if toilet is my face. Ands what worse is that bastard doesn't even flush his load."
     "He doesn't have thumbs, Jedi!"
     "Why can't you just scoop the poop?!"
      "Because, cat crap…smells like…cat crap! And  don't like messing with it. If Einstein here wants to scoop the poop, though, then go right ahead!"
     "I've had enough of your misplaced racist jokes, fugly duckling."
    Ducky has been my nickname ever since I was four. My mom thought that name Dudley was not a girly enough, so she called my Ducky sometimes. I refused to this precious name used in vain. I stood up off the couch, and maintained an aggressive stance (and by aggressive I mean that furious stance of a toy poodle makes the moment he spots the mail man and decides to tear his ass up.).
     "I go by many names: Dudley, Ducky, Milk Dud, The Duck, Daffy, Dudley Duck, The Duckster (my uncle made up that one), Daisy, Mother Ducker, and my knight name, Dudley the Studly.  No where on that list is 'Fugly Duckling'. Got that Judah?"
     He just smiled and ruffled my hair.
     "Aw, look she almost said my real name."
     I blew a misplaced hair out of my face.
     "You're so cute Cuddle Dud. Well, I have to class." He paused to pick up his back pack. "Fly safely."
     There was stillness after the door shut.
     And then I thought to myself, Cuddle dud.
     "Huh…" I mumbled.
     Then I heard Mister Boo Boo's Poop plopping into the toilet.

Description
      "Hewoo Mister BoooooBoooo! How aw you baby boyyyyyyyy! Wujujujuju…." I nuzzled my, cat, Sergeant Pierce Boyregard (Mister Boo Boo for short). He gave me an affectionately menacing glare, and then bit me on the nose.
     "Son of a bun! That's very bad Mister Boo Boo! Go away!"
      He landed on the floor with a thump, and walked away with his tail stuck up high, like he'd won a medal of honor. Or maybe he was proud of his butt hole and wanted to show it to the world. Either way, that cat's a piece of work. I had named him Sergeant because of his many battle scars; he was an alley cat once. I also named him Pierce Boyregard, because, well, lets just say he pierced my old neighbor Boyregard pretty good once.
     "When are you going to get rid of that fleabag? I woke up to him farting in my face last night."
     It was my roommate, Jude. Sometimes I call him "The Jew" to piss him off, which is surprisingly effective considering he isn't even Jewish.
      "I can't get rid of this cat, Jew! I spent two months teaching him how to use the toilet!"
    "JUDE! It's like dude but with a 'j'! Or maybe like jew, but a 'duh' at the end!"
     "I know Jew, DUH!" I retorted.
     "Whatever. Anyway, sure it knows how to use a toilet; that's if toilet is my face. Ands what worse is that bastard doesn't even flush his load."
     "He doesn't have thumbs, Jedi!"
     "Why can't you just scoop the poop?!"
      "Because, cat crap…smells like…cat crap! And  don't like messing with it. If Einstein here wants to scoop the poop, though, then go right ahead!"
     "I've had enough of your misplaced racist jokes, fugly duckling."
    Ducky has been my nickname ever since I was four. My mom thought that name Dudley was not a girly enough, so she called my Ducky sometimes. I refused to this precious name used in vain. I stood up off the couch, and maintained an aggressive stance (and by aggressive I mean that furious stance of a toy poodle makes the moment he spots the mail man and decides to tear his ass up.).
     "I go by many names: Dudley, Ducky, Milk Dud, The Duck, Daffy, Dudley Duck, The Duckster (my uncle made up that one), Daisy, Mother Ducker, and my knight name, Dudley the Studly.  No where on that list is 'Fugly Duckling'. Got that Judah?"
     He just smiled and ruffled my hair.
     "Aw, look she almost said my real name."
     I blew a misplaced hair out of my face.
     "You're so cute Cuddle Dud. Well, I have to class." He paused to pick up his back pack. "Fly safely."
     There was stillness after the door shut.
     And then I thought to myself, Cuddle dud.
     "Huh…" I mumbled.
     Then I heard Mister Boo Boo's Poop plopping into the toilet.