Desperate Cry for Help 022

Bastardtron is now living in an exclusive retirement community, or so they've told me.

He lives in a communal setting where he is cared for by dozens of elderly ladies who knit him sweaters and feed him tuna straight from the can.

I'm sure he loves it there. Bastardtron always wanted to be pampered and loved and adored. He never liked the cat bed I got for him on eBay; it was just too cheap - below him.

But I've heard they no longer call him Bastardtron, and instead prefer to call him "Mister Fluffikins."

I'm sure he hates that.

You can't have that much self-esteem, that advanced of an ego, and still live with elderly ladies calling you Mister Fluffikins.

Any day now Bastardtron will escape from his own prison, and haunt the streets, until he tracks me and and returns to me...

Either that, or he'll just find some other reject to look after him.

Bastardtron is the captain of his own destiny.