Garfield was fast asleep. He had a big day of doing nothing and was exhausted.
Arlene, his girlfriend, was lying next to him and had a worried look on her face.
"Garfield?"
"What?", he said as he woke up.
"Why do you eat so much? It's not good for you", she said.
"Get back to me when you stop getting botox in those lips", he snapped.
"Garfield, I'm serious. You already have type 2 dia-bidis. Eating so much is only going to make things worse."
"If I die, I die. Big fat hairy deal. At least I won't have to listen to you run your yap anymore."
Ding dong!
It was the doorbell.
"Must be the pizza guy", Garfield said.
Garfield opened the door and there stood Irma, Jon's date for the evening.
"Is Jon home?", she asked.
"No. That stupid jerk is at the flower shop", Garfield responded.
"Oh! Is he getting me flowers?", she asked excitedly.
"No. Donuts, you stupid bitch", he said as he slammed the door in her face.
Garfield walked to his litter box and tried to pee. A little blood came out. He died later that week from a heart attack. No one came to his funeral.