Conversations With Elmo

elmo is a cat, he has 4 ears.


Me: Yeah, so the system you had installed? In your car? Like how little people have?

Elmo: It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t cheap.

Me: So it wasn’t your mom then?

Elmo: Ha ha, I like your style. But seriously, my mother’s dead, don’t be an asshole.

Me: Yeah I heard she died - didn’t she get run over? By a truck?

Elmo: Are you saying that I killed my mom?

Me: No!

Elmo: Okay okay fine I killed my mother but on accident - my feet could reach neither the gas pedal nor the break - but why do you think I take my little person safety system so seriously?

Me: Can I drive?

Elmo: You’re a terrible driver. Let’s go to a strip club, I want some wings.

Me: I could really go for a BLT on lightly toasted foccacia.

Elmo: Are you a pussy?


Elmo: Answer me boy -

Me:…I’m a lady -

Elmo: Is you is or is you ain’t ten kinds of a pussyish bitch with your herb gardens and your Tom’s shoes and your bangs?

Me: I don’t even have bangs.

Elmo: Baby boy don’t make me ask again.

Me: FINE. We’ll get wings.


(At this point we had reach the truck which was like a Ford pickup, but the cab was actually a convertible which was weird. Elmo leapt in over the side which looked so rad.

Once in the car he put on his sun glasses and tooted the horn.)

Elmo: Wings and Dick Wetting!

(I was pretty embarrassed so I got in to shut him up. He started the truck and the CD player began blasting “Until the World Ends” from Britney Spears’s ‘Femme Fatale” album. Elmo looked me dead in the eye, daring me to question him.)

Elmo: Twotypes of dudes listen to Britney. Awesome guys, and motherfucking WARRIORS!

(With that he peeled out of the parking lot at an alarming clip.)


Elmo: Man, sell that? Smells like A-grade cow fanny.

Me: I don’t know what that means.

Elmo: It’s what I call leather - cow fanny, we’re making that happen.

(He tapped my notebook with one tiny claw, I had realized earlier that he couldn’t read, so I nodded and just wrote my name and Michael Keaton’s name and drew a heart around it.)

Me: Cool.

(We were waiting at the bus stop right by the parking lot, but the leather smell had distracted Elmo - something in the parking lot caught his eye. His four ears twitched.)

Elmo: Oh shit that’s right I drove here! In the truck that I have!

Me: I didn’t know cats could drive.

Elmo: We totally can. I had to hire a guy to install that peddle and lever system that little people use - you know, the midgets?

Me: I don’t think they like being called midgets.

Elmo: Call them whatever want - hell, I’ll fucking throw them if I want - make ‘em dance at a party on Kanye’s roof, dry ‘em out - make ‘em into mummy maracas to shake for my pleasure!


Me: I hate it when we fight.

Elmo: Let’s buy shoes that match.

Me: Okay.

Elmo: Let’s go hear Tracy Chapman sing at a tiny folk club.

Me: Let’s eat flan.

Elmo: Chocolate flan?

Me: Totally.

Elmo: You remind me of a honey badger I once knew.