It's a cool, Sunday morning. You're having sweet dreams, when suddenly, your snooze is interrupted by a cold paw rapidly bapping you on the face. You jolt awake, sitting up in your bed, and you look over to see Angel-- Er... I mean... Patches. He glares at you with an annoyed expression.

"Good morning, you dolt. Get up and make breakfast. This inferior twink body is too short to reach the top shelves."

You look down, and see your hand clutching one end of a chain, and the other end is attached to Patches' collar. Ah yes! How could you forget? You convinced your friends to let Patches stay with you, under the condition that you quite literally keep him on a tight leash 24/7.