Sonnet: *wandering in* I'm not toothless. I still have two teeth, thank-you-very-much. And my claws are perfectly functional, so watch your tone.
Bard: I can't. It's noise. My vision isn't acute enough to see the vibrations in air caused by normal feline speech.
Sonnet: Normal feline speech? The fact that we can talk isn't precisely normal.
Bard: I thought the super-spy training was supposed to stay secret. Don't talk about it!
Sonnet: Our handlers didn't say we shouldn't blog.
Bard: Your handlers were llamas. They couldn't talk.
Sonnet: Well, it's not my fault the experiments on them failed. Or that they then went rogue and decided to try experimenting on cats without human supervision.
Bard: Great, just let everything out, why don't you? You never know who's listening.
Sonnet: The only thing in the room is the computer. Both the humans are gone for the day. And the dog won't share; he's not going to risk losing your portion of the canned cat food.
Bard: Like you've never hacked a webcam before, yourself. For all we know, the human's getting suspicious and left it running.
Sonnet: Seriously? She's clueless. She didn't even notice the bugs we planted, or the death ray I'm constructing from hairballs.
Bard: I said, shush!
*Small feet charge up and down the stairs*