Welcome to my perfumed garden

Is our neighbour's cat. His name is Drew. He spends a considerable amount of time in our house, sunning himself in our window, drinking our milk - warm, we warm it for him - eating cat food, which we buy for him, stealing our toast, attacking us, drawing blood.

He's not a very nice cat so why do we feed and water him, put up with is violent mood swings and afford him every home comfort at no small inconvenience to ourselves? I have no idea. We're not even cat people yet he seems to exert some strange hold on us, a feline Derren Brown, perhaps?

We've been hearing tales about this cat, how he'll 'eat you out of house and home' (we already knew), how he broke in through an open window and stole a roast chicken from another neighbour's kitchen. How his own family have had to put a child lock on their fridge because gets inside and eats everything in there.

( If you see this cat... )
Run. Fast as you can for he is the spawn of Satan.

You'll already have heard the genius of Tim Key. If not, I recomend you trot along to Listen Again and have a delicious gander (Michael Palin and Mitchell and Webb are on too, if that helps).