It all began one rainy Tuesday morning,the kind of day that turns dogs into puddles and cats into tyrants.
Athena was lounging dramatically on the living room rug like a Victorian widow awaiting her inheritance. She had just discovered that the humans had run out of her favorite duck jerky treats and was in full protest mode. Obito, meanwhile, was busy licking the couch. No one had asked him to do this. He just felt it needed attention.
Munchkin, their four-legged feline brother, part-time anarchist, full-time professional menace strutted in with the confidence of a cat who’d just committed insurance fraud and was getting away with it. He walked across Athena’s tail, knocked Obito’s favorite toy into the water bowl, and then as the pièce de résistance, jumped up onto the TV stand and turned off the Wi-Fi router.
Athena barked. Obito howled. Netflix buffered. The humans screamed.
Munchkin blinked. Yawned. Left the room like a smug war criminal.
Athena turned to Obito.
“That’s it,” she growled. “We’re selling him.”
Obito gasped so hard he hiccupped. “Like… on Craigslist?”
Athena narrowed her eyes. “No. eBay. We want to reach international buyers.”
Obito nodded solemnly. “For the greater good.”
Thus began: The Great eBay Heist.
First, they needed a photo.
Obito tried to take a selfie with Athena’s help, but ended up just taking 46 blurry pictures of his nose and one of his butt. Eventually, they snuck up on Munchkin while he was sleeping in the laundry basket and Athena pounced, yelling, “SAY CHEESE, YOU FRECKLED LITTLE TYRANT!”
Munchkin hissed. The laundry basket flipped. Obito sneezed. The camera snapped. Perfect.
They uploaded the image and began filling in the listing:
Title: "Purebred Tabby Cat — Evil Genius — Slightly Haunted"
Condition: Used. Sharp. Comes with attitude.
Starting Bid: One rotisserie chicken OR three peanut butters
Shipping: May arrive in a box he’s already claimed as his own
Seller Notes: Will knock over cups for sport. May scream at 3 a.m. Must not be returned under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
To boost appeal, they added “FREE BONUS: Glare of Judgment included at no extra cost!”
They hit “Post.”
Athena sat proudly. “Now we wait.”
Obito, not entirely sure what “wait” meant, ran six laps around the kitchen and licked the toaster.
But their triumph was short-lived.
Within seconds, bids began flying in from usernames like “ILuvChaos666,” “GoblinMom,” and “TabbyDaddy420.” Someone offered a 200-pack of tennis balls. Another offered a lifetime supply of canned tuna and a subscription to “Feline Psychology Monthly.”
But just as Athena was preparing her victory howl…
Munchkin strolled in.
He had heard everything.
He blinked once.
He blinked twice.
Then,with a single elegant swipe of his paw, he deleted the listing.
He hadn’t even touched the keyboard. The laptop just shut down out of fear. Somewhere, an Alexa cried.
Athena gasped. “You can’t just—!”
Munchkin yawned.
Obito whimpered and offered him a soggy sock in peace.
But Munchkin wasn’t done.
He walked calmly into the hallway. Then returned five seconds later… wearing the dog’s Halloween costumes.
Athena’s taco outfit. Obito’s hotdog suit.
On him.
The message was clear: Try that again, and I will livestream this.
Later that day, the humans returned to find Athena sulking, Obito stress-eating a shoe, and Munchkin sitting on the laptop like a smug mafia boss.
The Wi-Fi never recovered.
And the dogs? Well, they never tried e-commerce again.
But they did keep the shipping box… just in case.

©️Lainey Green - Intwined.blog