be Jon "J-Bone" Arbuckle
>wake up in a piss-stained futon in my busted-ass duplex called “Da Meow Trap”
>Garfield been slangin' fentanyl-laced lasagna to the neighborhood tweakers again
>he got a gold chain, no pants, and a Glock with his name engraved in Comic Sans
>"ON GOD, JON, IF I SEE ONE MORE MONDAY, I'M AIRIN' THIS BITCH OUT"
>Odie in the living room sippin lean out a dog bowl, got face tattoos now, one says “BONE APPETIT”
>I ain’t seen Liz in months, last text she sent was a JPEG of her middle finger and the words “u smell like wet drywall”
>tried sellin’ my blood plasma to pay for new cat litter, got banned from the center for “screaming in Garfieldese”
>went home, cooked Hot Pockets in the dryer, called it “Trap Cuisine”
>Garfield threw it at me, told me “you a failure even by white trash anime protagonist standards”
>decided to get back at him, smoked 8 Adderalls and put his lasagna stash in the washing machine
>he pulled up on me in the hallway with a fork taped to a pistol
>"YOU DIRTY TURKEY BACON-LOOKIN BITCH. YOU TOUCHED MY PASTA?"
>we scrapped in the kitchen like it was WWE SummerSlam
>he bit me, I threw hot queso in his face, Odie livestreamed it on OnlyPhanz under “GhettoFights: Feline Edition”
>neighbors cheered, someone yelled “WORLDSTAR” and drove a scooter through my living room
>went to sleep in the bathtub holding a gas station burrito and a photo of me & Liz at Chuck E. Cheese in ‘98
>Garfield sat on the sink chain-smoking menthols, whispering “We was never normal, Jon… we was never meant to be.”
>cried
>he cried
>Odie barked out a racial slur in Morse code
>this my life now
>this the trap
>this the Meowdown