Peter walked into the pad with a giant cardboard box in his arms, a grin plastered on his face. You were sitting on the couch, watching television, but glanced up when Peter kicked the door shut behind him.

“Hey, fellas! Guess what I got!” he announced, setting the box down carefully on the floor.

“Uh-oh,” Mike muttered, peering over his notebook. “Last time you brought something home, it was a plant that nearly ate Davy’s tambourine.”

“This is different!” Peter said, lifting the box’s lid to reveal… a tiny, black kitten with big green eyes and a white patch on its nose.

“A kitten?” Micky exclaimed, instantly intrigued as the little ball of fluff mewed softly. “What’re we gonna do with a kitten, Pete? Teach it to sing backup?”

“No, I thought he could keep us company!” Peter said enthusiastically, picking up the kitten and cradling it in his arms. “I named him Mr. Snuggles.”

Davy raised an eyebrow. “That’s adorable, mate, but you do know the landlord doesn’t allow pets, right?”

“Oh, come on,” Peter said with a pout. “What harm could one little kitten do?”

As if on cue, Mr. Snuggles wriggled out of Peter’s arms and darted straight for Mike’s guitar case. The kitten pawed at the strings before deciding to chew on one of Mike’s picks.

“Hey!” Mike exclaimed, getting up quickly. “It’s fixin’ to ruin my gear!”