Oh, the shame. The complete shame. Just because I'm a hat you can't use me in any way, you know. I'm supposed to be put on heads, not abused and hidden. But let us start from the beginning. I guess you didn't know that we hats have minds now, did you? Very few people actually do. It's a pity. Oh yes, what a pity.
Well, I once belonged to a wealthy, rich man who wore me every day. Ah, those were the glamour days. But you see, as the time passed as it's being in the habit of, I grew out of date. I got thrown away and then I ended up in a junkyard. That, I would have thought terrible, if it hadn't been for a certain gentleman, in a fastidious coat, who called himself Bustopher Jones. I had seen him every now and then in the fine clubs and I considered him worthy to own me. I was happy, even as they used me to sit on. Not the best way to use a hat, but it was understandable. The gentleman wasn't very big and couldn't use me as a hat. He was round though, and after months of use I got torn by his heavy abdomen. I got holes.
I could still have lived in a rather nice ignorance, if not this little kitten had appeared on the scene. He used to sit next to me, and I find it quite understandable that I was flattered. I grew quite fond of him in time, you see. My affection could have grown even stronger if not for one special incident.
One day he decided to use me in a way I wasn't convenient with. He used me, to please his own little needs and I ended up pregnant. Can you believe it? Pregnant! I'm a hat! And it wasn't even within a proper ownership!
As I'm perfectly reasonable and also against abortion, I decided to keep the babies. I thought that when he found out he would take his responsibility and come back to me. I also hoped, foolishly I know now, that maybe he would show some affection and declare a proper ownership. So I continued, with my shame, to carry on. The one hope of a true ownership of love, was all I had.
Oh how wrong I was. When it was time for the kittens to come, he just picked them right out of me. Not caring the tinest bit about my dignity. There I was, upside down, showing off my most private parts and I had just given birth to seven kittens. And they all just stared! All the cats kept staring at me. The nerve!
And Mistoffelees, the cat I secretly called my Mistoffelees just threw me away without a word. And here I've been since then. All alone until you passed by.
The reason I decided to tell you this is because I think the world's hats deserve to know. They deserve to know that Mistoffelees is not to be trusted. He is ready to use anyone at anytime and wont take responsibility for his actions. So hear thee and learn from my mistakes. The mistakes of a molested hat.
Well then, now that you've read the story, how about giving us a nice little review.
A flame will also do, seeing as it's cold.