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Based On A True Story
Dec. 19th, 2011 11:48 amI hereby submit this as an alternative lyric for “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,”* where the players are no longer Wolf and Mouse,** but rather Human and Cat.
I really can’t stay.
But Fluffy, it’s cold outside.
I’ve got to go ‘way.
Oh, fuzzball, it’s cold outside.
I’ve already slept
This blanket is wrecked
Sixteen straight hours
All during which we had snow showers
There’s birds huddled up in the trees now
You’d better just let them tease now
I could spread around some feathery gore
Tonight it’s supposed to snow more
Just turn the knob for me please now
You know that you’re gonna freeze now
Being inside is such a terrible bore
No way I’m gonna open this door
It’s only a storm
That's like three feet of snow
My fur keeps me warm
It’s, what, 20 below?
I could kill me some mice
They’re all solid ice
And I gotta poop
Just use the box; I’ll get a scoop
I plan to sit and stare at you, hopin’
You seriously want this door open?
Looking sadder than if somebody died
I warned you, cat. I totally tried.
I’m going out now—
Hey wut it’s COLD OUTSIDE!
JESUS IT’S COLD! OUT! SIDE!
*A song I almost categorically hate. When James Taylor and Natalie Cole sing it, it’s a nice jazzy bit of banter between two longtime on again-off again friends. Every other version sounds like it’s going to end with a sleazy defense attorney trying to convince a jury that his client was under the perfectly understandable mistaken impression that Rohypnol was an integral part of a martini.
**No, really. That song gets creepier the more you learn about it.
I really can’t stay.
But Fluffy, it’s cold outside.
I’ve got to go ‘way.
Oh, fuzzball, it’s cold outside.
I’ve already slept
This blanket is wrecked
Sixteen straight hours
All during which we had snow showers
There’s birds huddled up in the trees now
You’d better just let them tease now
I could spread around some feathery gore
Tonight it’s supposed to snow more
Just turn the knob for me please now
You know that you’re gonna freeze now
Being inside is such a terrible bore
No way I’m gonna open this door
It’s only a storm
That's like three feet of snow
My fur keeps me warm
It’s, what, 20 below?
I could kill me some mice
They’re all solid ice
And I gotta poop
Just use the box; I’ll get a scoop
I plan to sit and stare at you, hopin’
You seriously want this door open?
Looking sadder than if somebody died
I warned you, cat. I totally tried.
I’m going out now—
Hey wut it’s COLD OUTSIDE!
JESUS IT’S COLD! OUT! SIDE!
*A song I almost categorically hate. When James Taylor and Natalie Cole sing it, it’s a nice jazzy bit of banter between two longtime on again-off again friends. Every other version sounds like it’s going to end with a sleazy defense attorney trying to convince a jury that his client was under the perfectly understandable mistaken impression that Rohypnol was an integral part of a martini.
**No, really. That song gets creepier the more you learn about it.
