A giant, blue, demon tiger emerged from the shrubbery of your balcony. Covered in colbat coloured fur, muscles like overstuffed beanbags, and eyes glowing like someone had mashed fire and lemonade together in a lava lamp. It stared at you with wide, unblinking intensity. And then it made its move, slowly approching you.

THWAP Its paw clipped a potted plant. CRASH Down went the plant. The pot, oddly, didn't shatter . The demon cat froze. Its eyes flicked to the pot. Then to you. Then back to the pot.

You could see the wheels turning in its head—and let’s be honest, they were a little rusty. Slowly, with the cautious precision of someone disarming a bomb while wearing oven mitts, it lifted one titanic paw and attempted to nudge the plant upright.