The kitten jumped

Without any ceremony whatsoever, it was then lifted off of the counter and gently – oh so gently, like the first icy shard of snow approaching the ground on a still day – placed on the floor

Three instantlys later, the kitten was back on the kitchen counter. The gentle act of placing it on the floor recommenced. Before anyone could so much as blink, the kitten had teleported back up again

This repeated many a time. Any annoyance at the iterative repetitiveness was, however, firmly displaced by a fascination: just how fast could one small furball be?

Turns out

It was very fast indeed

“I can be your devil”

“Sounds scary”

“Or your angle”

“My what?”

“You know. Covert motive, hidden agenda, ulterior mission objective”

“I thought you were my main quest?”

“…I can be that too, I accept”