The streets are devoid of vehicles, their owners safe inside, kneeling in prayer with their families.
The sky is empty of clouds, the white puffs not daring to blot out the sun on this sacred day.
The Milking Cat headquarters are closed: the workers cozy in their beds at home, the bustling transferring of the mailroom silent, the underground medieval sweatshop where overworked halflings crank out jokes 24/7 for the Milking Cat executives and editors, finally quiet.
The whole world slows down to commemorate this magnificent day. It is our Editor-in-Chief's birthday.
And as a result, the whole Milking Cat staff smiles. This gives them an excuse not to write any articles this week.
By:
The Milking Cat Editors and Staff