Posted by u/PookieThePurrminator, Feline Femme Fatale

I, Pookie, elegant calico and reigning Empress of Chaos, engaged in my nightly ritual of slinking into bed beside my human. The room was bathed in moonlight. All was still. The scent of lavender drifted faintly from her pillow. She whispered “goodnight,” and I answered with silence… and then, betrayal.

Mid-snuggle, I turned. My tail curled like a velvet ribbon. My hindquarters found their mark: inches from her unsuspecting, adoring face. And then it happened. A fart. So soft, so stealthy, it could’ve been a ghost passing through the veil. But make no mistake—it carried heat, vengeance, and the memory of every skipped meal and vet visit.

She shrieked, accusing me of “biological warfare.” I remained stoic. Regal. Unapologetic. This was not just a fart. This was a reckoning.

So I ask you, dear jury of internet justice:

AITA for releasing my fury in the form of air, or was this the noble act of a creature pushed too far by glitter collars and unsolicited belly rubs?